Almost every day without fail, Van would stop by the farm and visit. Some visits lasted mere minutes based on her business, but her favorites lasted hours. She would never turn down time with you, even when you'd drag her to help her with the things your daddy assigned. Some were more enjoyable than others, your favorite was picking the fruit that would grow on the bushes and trees, mainly because you could snack during your chore.

It's been this way for years. Van was raised to be a tough cowgirl, while you were the more soft and sweet farmer's daughter. It was only natural that you two gravitated towards each other, and had practically been attached at the hip since. To the rest of the town, Van was hardened and someone to not be messed with. To you, she was your cowgirl who you know would do anything you'd asked.

Another apple dropped in the basket she was holding, courtesy of you. You loved to pick the fruits, so she would be your basket-holder. She watched as you inspected the apples you'd picked, and had to hold back a laugh at your squint.

"Relax your face, sweetpea. You'll give yourself wrinkles." Her slight accent shone through her words, and she laughed when you smacked her arm playfully.