by Tricia Goyer
“Get up!” Sam heard Paul yell. “Get up! Get up!”
Sam struggled to his feet, but the ground was too slippery. Just as he started to rise, his feet slid again, and his body splashed back into the mud.
Sam tried a third time, and this time he made it up. He tried to wipe the mud from his eyes, but it did little good. He half-opened them and mostly listened for the shouts of his friends.
“We got it. We got it.” He heard Jordan call.
Sam reached them and the pig, and tried to help them hoist it up. It was no use. The pig wriggled and squealed, sounding like it was being butchered. Sam wrapped his arms around it just as the buzzer went off.
“No way,” Paul muttered.
The crowd laughed and cheered—mostly laughed—and Sam felt heat rising to his cheeks. They’d just made fools of themselves in front of everyone they knew.
“Good try.” He felt Jordan’s hand on his back.
“Maybe next year.” Jake wrapped his arm around Sam’s shoulders as they exited the arena.
“Or maybe not,” Sam mumbled, happy to get his feet on firm ground again. He’d barely made it two steps out of the ring when he felt Arielle’s arms around him.
“That was amazing!” She placed a quick kiss on his muddy cheek and giggled. “Watching that was the best thing ever. I’m so proud of you.”
“Really?” Sam straightened his shoulders.
“Come on.” Arielle tugged on his arms. “There are some hoses over here. They use them to wash off the cows and pigs.”
“Are you calling me a pig?”
Arielle reached up and pulled a clump of mud from Sam’s hair, flicking it to the ground. “Yes. Yes, I am.”
Chapter Nineteen
The evening air was still thick and muggy, and Charlotte looked forward to the days ahead when cool breezes arrived with the dinner bell. Most of the video crew had left for the evening, and now only a few of the guys sat around the dining room table working on the storyboard for the video.
She opened the window wider, hoping for fresh air … and hoping to see Bob sauntering in from the barn. No such luck on either.
“More coffee?” Charlotte asked Will and Buck. Both men had been especially nice to her after she’d returned home. Perhaps they were making up for the fiasco with the horse earlier in the week.
“If it’s not too much trouble.” Buck held up his mug and forced a smile.
“Oh, not at all.” Charlotte poured another cup and filled a plate with walnut-cherry cookies, placing it on the table in front of them.
She’d checked in with Bob, and he seemed to be taking things in stride.
“These cookies are amazing!” Will exclaimed, eating a cookie with one bite.
“Glad you like them,” Charlotte said.
The sound of a car rumbling down the driveway caused Charlotte to look out the window. She expected to see Pete’s truck, doubting Sam would leave the fair this early. Instead, it was a car Charlotte didn’t recognize.
She watched as it parked and four teen girls piled out. As they got closer, Charlotte saw that it was Emily, Nicole, Lily, and another girl she recognized from the school.
Charlotte waved, and Emily waved back. She was partially pleased that Emily had obviously made amends after yesterday’s disagreement with Nicole, but her smile turned into a frown when she noticed the girls grabbing sleeping bags, pillows, and overnight bags from the trunk of the car.
Emily hurried ahead, and Charlotte met her on the front porch.
“Hey, Grandma.” She looked up at Charlotte expectantly.
“I see you brought some friends.”
“Yeah, I was going to ask you about that. Can they stay the night?” Emily shoved her hands into the front pockets of her jean shorts and swayed from side to side.
“Were you asking, or telling?” Charlotte tapped her chin with one finger.
“Ummm, well, they just sort of invited themselves, and I didn’t know what to say.”
“Do you think Shae Lynne coming tomorrow has anything to do with this?”
Emily nodded, and Charlotte could see the anxiety in her granddaughter’s face. It would be hard on her and Bob having three more teens in the house, but she knew it would be even harder on Emily if the girls weren’t allowed to spend the night.
Charlotte saw the girls nearing, and she stepped closer and lowered her voice. “They can stay tonight, but from now on you need to ask permission first. Also, you can’t hang around and bother Shae Lynne when she arrives. Let her approach you first.”
Emily nodded. “Understood.” Then she turned to her friends.
“Well, this is the farm. Nothing special.”
“Can we look around?” Nicole’s eyes focused on the camera and light stands that were scattered around the farm. “I promise we won’t touch a thing.”
“Maybe later.” Charlotte motioned to the house. “Have you all gotten permission to spend the night here?” she asked.
The girls nodded in unison.
“Ok, then let’s get your things inside and I’ll introduce you to the video producers.”
Nicole’s eyes widened in a way that made Charlotte partly glad she was able to give this to Emily—a chance to show Nicole up for one day. A chance to be the talk of the town.
Is that okay, Lord? Charlotte wondered as she held the door open for the girls. Is it wrong to want my granddaughter to have something to talk about? To feel special about?
Charlotte stood back and watched as the producers introduced themselves to Emily’s friends. The girls gushed over the prospect of seeing Shae Lynne and ignored Emily when she offered to show them her room.
Charlotte sighed. They are here for only one thing, and it’s not Emily.
All of Charlotte’s attempts to let the week’s events run off her failed as she approached the table. “Girls, why don’t you take your things up to Emily’s room. Then I can make you a snack if you’re hungry.”
“Do we have to?” Nicole asked, looking at Charlotte doe-eyed and not wanting to leave the video planners. Then, seeing the answer in Charlotte’s gaze, she turned to Emily. “So, where’s your room? I’m sure it’s just great.”
Charlotte could hear the sarcasm in Nicole’s tone, and she almost regretted telling Emily to try to befriend the girl. Then again, doing the right thing was the right thing, even if it meant holding your tongue and giving yourself time to stew.
SAM SHIVERED AS HE TURNED into the driveway. The night was warm, but his clothes were still wet from getting hosed off, causing a chill to race down his spine.
Eighties music was playing on the radio, and Jordan shook his head and turned it down.
“What is this stuff?” Jordan whined. “I thought that music disappeared ages ago, along with parachute pants and spiked hair.”
“It’s either that or country.” Sam changed the station. “I can’t always get the rock station.”
Sam thought about all the CDs and DVDs he could have bought with the prize money—if they’d won. If the pig hadn’t been so quick. If they’d done a better job at figuring out their strategy.
“Do you have Internet?” Jordan asked, almost bouncing in his seat. “Natalie said she was going to post the video of our pig wrestling on YouTube. I want to e-mail the link to all our friends back home.”
“Internet … well, our connection is slow. We still have dial-up, if you can believe it.” Sam chuckled. “And besides, I wouldn’t call that pig wrestling, if I were you. More like taking a mud bath.”
Sam twirled his finger in his ear. “I think I’m going to be finding mud in unexpected places for a month.”
“Whatever. I can’t wait to see our mud-bath photos. I want to put them all over MySpace.”
“Are you kidding? But we didn’t even win.”
“No one has to know that, although if they actually watch the video I believe they’ll figure that out.”
Sam parked the car, and they were getting out just in time to see Will and
Buck exiting the house.
All of the crew and cameras were gone, but Sam could see that some of the stands for lights were still in position—waiting for tomorrow. Waiting for Shae Lynne to show up.
“See you guys tomorrow?” Will waved in their direction.
“We’ll be here, sir.” Sam answered.
“You and the rest of Bedford High.” Will laughed but Buck didn’t seem quite as amused. Sam followed his gaze to the upstairs window of Emily’s room, where three girls’ faces, none of them Emily’s, peered down.
“Dude, you don’t have it so bad.” Jordan shook his head as they headed toward the house. “The best food. Your own car. Cute girls.”
“Think so, huh?” Sam asked. “Awesome, that means you can help me with chores again tomorrow.”
AFTER PUSHING HER BED against the wall, Emily had just enough room to line up four sleeping bags on the floor. Emily hugged her pillow to her chest and sat quietly as she listened to the other girls talking about the fair—about the cute guys they met at the cheerleaders’ booth and about going clothes shopping next week in Harding. They neither invited her into the conversation nor invited her shopping with them. Emily tried not to let her anger show, especially when they burst into laughter talking about the “losers” in the pig wrestling. Didn’t they know that Sam was one of those guys, and he was far from a loser?
A knock sounded at the door, and Emily guessed it was her grandma coming to tell them to quiet down.
“Come in,” she called.
The door swung open, and Emily was surprised to see Ashley standing there. As soon as she saw her friend—and the hurt expression on Ashley’s face—it all came back. They were supposed to go see Hunter’s barrel race and Ashley was supposed to spend the night!
Emily’s heart skipped a beat, and she jumped to her feet. “Ashley!” A heaviness filled the pit of her stomach.
“I thought we had plans. Did you forget?”
Laughter burst from the other girls, and Emily didn’t know what they were laughing at. Maybe it was the cowboy hat Ashley wore. Or the bandanna tied around her neck. Or maybe it was just because they thrived on making everyone else feel bad. Ashley opened her mouth and then closed it again. Then she turned and hurried down the stairs.
Emily vaulted over the other girls. “Ashley, wait!”
“Oh, no. It looks like someone has her feelings hurt. Maybe she feels—”
Emily didn’t wait around for Nicole to finish. She hurried down the stairs just in time to see Ashley rushing out the kitchen door.
“Ashley, wait!”
Ashley turned, and in the moonlight Emily could make out her red, watery eyes. In the driveway her grandma was talking to Mrs. Givens. Emily grabbed Ashley’s arm, and Ashley paused.
“I can’t believe you did this! You skipped the barrel races to hang out with them? Hunter is going to be so hurt. He won, you know. And he asked where you were. I, of course, had no idea.”
Emily knew that even though Ashley didn’t mention herself, she was also hurt.
“I don’t know what happened. I just totally forgot. The day, it just got away from me. Everything was crazy,” she said.
“Yeah, I suppose. Or you found a better option. You have your famous singer visiting tomorrow, and your popular friends tonight.” Ashley shrugged. “What do you need me for?”
Melody started to back out the car, waving good-bye to them, and Ashley motioned for her to stop.
Looking confused, Melody rolled down the window. “You aren’t staying?”
“No.” Ashley shook her head.
“You’re not staying?” Emily echoed.
“Why would I stay? You made other plans.”
“But I didn’t mean to make other plans. I didn’t mean for everything to happen like this. I feel horrible. I’ve been telling Hunter I’d be there … and you.” A lump formed in Emily’s throat. “I’d rather be with you than with them.” Emily nodded her head toward her bedroom window.
“Yeah, well, I really don’t want to stay. I don’t want to be here. I’m not mad.” Ashley shrugged. “Not totally. I just need to go home now.”
Emily’s shoulders sank as she watched Ashley trudge back to her mom’s car with her overnight bag in hand. Neither Ashley nor her mom waved as they drove away.
Grandma approached, and Emily couldn’t look into her eyes. Instead she focused on the peeling paint of the porch steps.
“So it seems that things didn’t turn out today quite like they were supposed to.”
Emily shook her head. “No, not at all.”
Charlotte let out a heavy sigh. “Yeah, but the truth is that you have three girls you need to entertain for the night. And … tomorrow is another busy day.”
“Grandma? Can I sleep with Trudy tonight?”
“In the barn?” Her grandma wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “I don’t think so.”
“Yeah, well, I think I’d be more comfortable. I don’t like this at all.”
“Live and learn, Emily. That’s what all of us do every day. Live and learn.”
Chapter Twenty
Charlotte awoke Thursday to the sound of a horse whinnying just outside the window. She peered out to see a muscular man in a leather vest and no shirt riding into the pasture.
“Oh my!” She pulled on her bathrobe over her nightgown.
“What is it?” Bob sat up, rubbed his eyes, and glanced at the clock radio with surprise. “Is it really after seven o’clock?”
“Yes, it is. And a young Arnold Schwarzenegger is riding a body double of Britney. I guess they gave up on trying to ride her.”
Bob rose and hurried to the bathroom. “I can’t believe I slept in,” he called. “I have to get going on the morning chores before they start filming.”
“Don’t worry. I’m sure Pete took care of that. Besides, I don’t blame you for sleeping in. Those kids were up all night. I even heard Christopher’s voice among the bunch. I think they were all wound up with the idea of Shae Lynne showing up today.”
“Yes, well, maybe that means they’ll sleep in a while. I don’t want those kids pouncing on her as soon as she comes.”
Charlotte dressed and then ran a comb through her hair. “So, did they tell you what time she’d be here?”
“Nope. I never heard, but I imagine when she comes rolling up in that big bus of hers we’ll all know it.”
“Yup.” Charlotte slipped on her shoes. “I imagine it will be quite a show.”
“Oatmeal for breakfast?” Charlotte moved toward the bedroom door.
“How about oatmeal and sausage?” Bob peeked around the corner of the bathroom and grinned.
Charlotte chuckled. “Well, this is a special day. I’ll call you when it’s ready.”
Charlotte noticed the house was completely quiet as she hurried to the kitchen to get some coffee on. Outside was a different story. Cameras were already set up near the barn. The door to the wardrobe trailer was open, and Charlotte saw Tami and Tracy hurrying in that direction.
Charlotte took some coffee cake out of the fridge and sliced it. Then she started a fresh pot of coffee. She paused as she walked past the kitchen window, startled by the young woman sitting on the porch. Toby was sitting by her, or rather, on her.
“That dog,” Charlotte mumbled to herself. She hurried out the side door, noting that the warmth of the morning promised it would be another hot day. She hurried with quick steps toward where the young woman sat.
“Toby, you’re such a bother.”
The girl glanced up, apparently surprised by Charlotte’s quick approach.
Toby slumped back with an “I’ve been caught” look on her face.
“Oh, he’s okay.” The young woman patted Toby’s head. “I called him to me.” The woman was thin and petite. She had long blonde hair that was pulled back in an easy ponytail. She wore no makeup on her face, but she had a natural, simple beauty.
“Are you sure?” Charlotte set her hands on her hips. “Toby�
��s a she, and she has a way of butting into other people’s business.”
“No, really, it’s okay. I love dogs—especially farm dogs—but I’m on the road so much that I decided it wouldn’t be fair to have one at home.”
“Oh, so do you travel with this group often?”
The young woman’s eyes lifted in surprise. “Uh, yeah, I suppose you can say that.”
“Well, if you’re on the road that much I bet you’d enjoy a nice cup of coffee and some homemade coffee cake. Would you like to come in and join me?”
“Sure.” She stood, and a large smile filled her face. “I’m Shayla, by the way.”
“Nice to meet you Shayla.” Charlotte stretched out her hand. “And I’m Charlotte.”
The young woman followed Charlotte into the house. Charlotte opened the screen door for her.
Shayla paused in the doorway. “Oh, my goodness. I love your home.”
Charlotte glanced around at the worn wood floor. The dingy, butter-yellow cupboards were at least fifty years old. She noticed all the junk—Christopher’s cross, her old teacup, and a hundred other things she’d stored in every nook and cranny. She sighed as she realized the living room was still a mess from where they moved the furniture. “Well, it’s really nothing special …” Charlotte let her voice trail off.
Shayla stepped inside. “No. It is special. It’s so cozy and warm. Inviting. To me, it says home.”
“Well, to my husband, Bob, it says cluttered, but I’m not very good at getting rid of stuff. I’ve kept some of my mom’s things and some things that belonged to Bob’s mom.”
Shayla sighed contently and moved to Charlotte’s hutch. “I love your dishes. My grandma used to have the apple-patterned ones just like that. Oh, and you have Depression glass. When I have a free day on the road I like to go junking, and sometimes I come up lucky.”
“Junking?” Charlotte chuckled. “Yes, my husband does sometimes call my stuff junk.”
Shayla turned and placed a hand over her heart. “No, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just my word for antiquing. It’s my favorite thing to do. In fact, I’d love a kitchen just like this someday.”
