by Judy Clemens
Sarah had decided to postpone her schooling for a year, choosing to stay home and help her dad take care of Elena, her younger sister, and do whatever she could for her mom. It seemed, she’d said, like the most important thing she could be doing.
Lucy finally declared it was time for an employee cookout to get our minds off of things, and set about planning the whole affair.
Now I was waiting for supper and hanging out with Tess at the calf hutches, where she scratched the nose of Wendy’s heifer.
She squinted up at me. “I’ve picked a name.”
I brought myself back from wherever I’d been as I’d gazed into the darkening sky. “Oh, yeah? What is it?”
“Rachel.”
Tears welled in my eyes. “That’s perfect, pumpkin. And lovely.” I laid a hand on the calf’s head. “Dr. Peterson would like that.”
Tess smiled.
“Everything okay?”
I dropped my hand and turned toward Carla, who stood beside me, her face closed.
“Everything’s fine.”
“Good.”
I looked over my shoulder to see Carla’s truck in the driveway, a new Port-a-Vet gleaming in the bed. “Looks good. You enjoying it?”
“Yeah.” She crossed her arms and leaned against the calf hutch. “You know, it has some features the old one didn’t have. A GPS system. Better gas mileage. A larger refrigerated section in the cap.”
“That’s nice.”
“Uh-huh.”
I glanced at Tess, who was down rubbing noses with Rachel, and turned my back on her. “Look, Carla, I’m sorry—”
She waved a hand. “Can we just…not go there?”
I stuck my hands in my back pockets and looked toward the bonfire, where Bryan and Nick were busy stoking the flames and splitting wood, while Lenny sat watching and offering suggestions and drinking a birch beer. You know. Man stuff. Queenie and Concord raced around the yard, stopping only to sniff at trees and water them. It was fun to see the old greyhound stretching his legs.
“You know Bryan’s old cross country coach called him?” Carla didn’t look at me. “Said some woman with a tattoo on her neck was at the school, asking questions. He couldn’t remember her name.”
I bit my lip.
“He felt guilty afterward for some of the things he’d told her. And he let Bryan know what all he’d said.”
“I—”
“Thanks, Stella.”
I blinked. “What?”
“I know you were trying to help. And you actually did. Bryan told me about his dad. And his sisters. His mom. It brought us a lot closer.”
“Oh, well, good.”
She gave a little smile. “I’m sure that was your intention, and not to prove that he was out murdering women.”
I stayed quiet.
“Anyway, do you think you have it in you to give him a chance now? He really is a good guy. And I think I might love him.”
Tears pricked my eyes again, dammit. “I will, Carla. I promise. If you love him…”
“Good. Now it looks like Miranda and Lucy could use a little help setting up the picnic table. Want to come?”
We left Tess and the calf getting to know each other and helped Lucy set out a feast. Deviled eggs, baked beans, homemade bread, fresh lettuce from the garden. Carla had called dibs on planning dessert and promised a full ice cream sundae buffet with warm chocolate pudding cake, if we could all save just a little room. I had a feeling she’d save more room than the rest of us.
Zach and Randy were washing the Caddy, which was fresh back from the garage, where the mechanic had replaced a few of the older parts and gotten it back into shape. Until the next part broke. But for now the old car shone with the love and care given by a teenage boy, and it would probably see him through many dates and days out with the guys.
I walked over to them. “You about ready to eat?”
Zach wiped the driver’s window before looking up. “I’m starved.”
“Randy?”
He was crouched down by the rear tire, where he scrubbed the white walls with a brush. “I can always eat.”
I gently took his chin and turned his face toward me. “Looking less black and more yellow. And I can see your eye. That’s good.”
He smiled. “Yeah. Doesn’t hurt anymore, either.”
“How about Crystal? Has that stopped hurting, too?”
He glanced at Zach over the top of the car.
I followed the look. “What?”
“Well, actually…”
I waited.
“I met a real nice girl when Zach and I went to the pool the other day…”
I laughed. “So Crystal’s history.”
“Oh, she is so done.”
I let go of his chin and patted his cheek. “Good for you. Now let’s go eat.”
Dinner was a cheerful affair, the teenagers eating as much as the rest of us combined. Well, the rest of us minus Carla. She held her own. Dessert was overload, but we managed to force it down, and had to sit for a while to let it settle.
Lucy finally got up to take in the leftovers, and I grabbed the empty deviled egg tray and the pot of baked beans and followed her into the kitchen.
“Thanks, Luce. This was…nice.”
She got out a Tupperware container and dumped the beans into it, scraping out the good sauce before closing it up. “You’re welcome.” She hesitated, and turned to me. “You know, Stella, that I’ll do whatever I can to help you. To keep things…working here. Whatever you need.”
“I know. But thanks for saying it.”
She smiled. “Now why don’t you go sit down, and I’ll take care of the rest of this. Lenny will give me a hand, right, hon?”
He lumbered past me, setting the pot of sausage and vegetables in the sink for Lucy to empty. “’Course. Can’t have the boss lady doing all the work.”
“And by that,” I said, “you mean Lucy.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Who else would I mean?”
Lucy laughed and swatted at him with a dishtowel, and I made my exit before they got mushy.
Nick caught me outside the back door, spinning me around and giving me a quick kiss. He held up a blanket. “Can you manage a stroll to our favorite spot?”
I looked toward the campfire. Carla and Bryan were holding hands, looking into each other’s eyes. Tess threw sticks for the dogs. And the boys were busy flirting with Miranda, who was much older, and therefore very exciting. It looked like she didn’t mind the attention.
“Sure. My foot feels pretty good. Let’s go.”
He grabbed my hand, and we walked out toward the back field. The corn was the height of our knees, but the irrigation lane was open. The same lane we’d traveled a year ago when he’d questioned my loyalty to the farm. The same lane we’d traveled when he’d questioned my loyalty to him. The place I’d come often to be alone, to get away, to have some peace.
We reached the center of the field, and Nick let go of my hand. Together we spread out the blanket and lay on our backs, gazing up toward the sky. The stars were just beginning to come out, and the moon shined brightly, casting shadows of the corn onto us.
“Fun night,” Nick said.
“Yeah.”
“A lot of your closest friends are here.”
“Uh-huh. And then there’s your sister.”
He grinned. “She’ll become one of your friends. You’ll see. I mean, she did like you enough to save your life.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“Well, she helped, anyway.”
I rolled onto my side, my shoulder over its main soreness. “It’s important to you, isn’t it? That we get along?”
He looked at me, his hands behind his head. “Of course. Just like it’s important to Carla that you like Bryan. And to Abe that you approved of him marrying Missy. It hasn’t been easy for them to see you questioning their choices.”
I droppe
d back down. “God, I’m a bitch.”
He laughed. “Think of it as a strong personality.” He rolled over now, looking down into my face. “With all of those people here, don’t you think we should celebrate something?”
“We are. It’s a Royalcrest Farm employee picnic.”
“Sure. Okay. But I had another idea.”
“Like what?”
He sat up and reached into his pocket. When he brought out his hand it held a small jewelry box.
My breath caught. “Nick?”
“Go on. Open it.”
I sat up, my hands shaking, and took the box. The lid opened easily, looking as I expected, with the velvet cushioning, and the gold-plated name of a jewelry store. What wasn’t there was…a ring. Instead, a business card lay on the soft fabric. I pulled it out and squinted at the lettering in the fading light. The card had Rusty Oldham’s name on it, a long-time friend, along with his tattooing business’ address and phone number. I looked at Nick, confused. “You want to get me a tattoo?”
He smiled and took the box, setting it on the blanket, then held my hand in both of his. “Stella, I know you can’t risk stabbing cows or getting a ring caught in conveyor belts or whatever other machinery you use. Lord knows we wouldn’t want one scratching your Harley.” He kneaded my knuckles. “A diamond, beautiful as it would be, just isn’t…you. So I would be honored if…” He cleared his throat. “If you would let Rusty tattoo a ring on your finger. I want… Stella, will you marry me?”
A rush of dizziness overwhelmed me, and I closed my eyes. A vision of my farm passed through my mind. My cows, my land, my house, my barns. The friends I had in my little corner of Pennsylvania. The Grangers—the only family I’d ever known. Carla and Lucy and Lenny and Bart. Home. My home for as long as I could remember.
But now…
“Yes, Nick.” I opened my eyes. “Yes. I would love to marry you.”
The smile on his face matched the one in my heart, and I reached out and held onto him, wanting never to let go.
But after a minute, he started to squirm. I sat back.
“I think,” he said, “that there are some folks back at the farm who would like to hear the news.”
My grin felt ridiculous. But oh, so good. “So let’s go tell them.”
He helped me up, and together we shook out the blanket and folded it. Once he’d tucked it under his arm, he grabbed my hand with his.
“And then,” he said, “I need to go back to Virginia and start packing.”
I stared at him.
He raised his eyebrows. “You don’t expect me to move all the way up to Pennsylvania without bringing my stuff, do you?”
I looked into the face of my beautiful, amazing, incredible fiancé. And I laughed with joy, with disbelief, and with a heart full of love.
I was home.
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