A Second Harvest (Men of Lancaster County Book 1)

by Eli Easton

  There was a full pot on the counter, so Christie poured himself a cup. “I want to go see. Feels like waiting around should be part of it. Like an expecting dad.”

  David smiled indulgently. “All right.” He poured himself another cup of coffee too, and they put on their coats and took their cups with them out to the barn.

  Chapter 17

  David had seen so many animals born on the farm it should have been old hat by now. Yet there was something about seeing a new being emerge from the womb, or even an egg, that never failed to invoke curiosity, wonder, and a hint of fear lest things not go well. He’d seen stillbirths before, and they were unsettling. It simply seemed wrong that nature could put so much effort into forming a creature from nothing, and yet fail to breathe in the last important component: life.

  Having Christie there for Buella’s calving made David more excited and anxious than usual. He wanted things to go well for Christie’s sake. When they got to Buella’s stall, he let them inside. She was standing stock-still and panting by the trough. She had mucus and gunk coming from her vulva, sign of an imminent birth.

  “Wow,” Christie said quietly. “Well, okay, then.”

  The surprise in his voice made David smile. “You’ve honestly never seen a live birth of any kind?”

  “I know, right? How sheltered are we these days? But no. We had a dog when I was a kid, but we neutered her. No puppies for us. I can’t even remember seeing one on TV.”

  “Well, come here and feel her side.”

  David had Christie feel Buella’s bulging flank. Her muscles were rigid and the body of the calf was large. Christie’s eyes widened as the calf moved. “How long will it take?”

  “It depends. It can be fast or it can be slow. Feels to me like the calf’s in a good position, though.”

  “Is it super painful for her like it is for women?”

  “It’s not as bad for cows. At least most of the time the mother doesn’t seem that stressed about it, and it doesn’t take hours like it can for a woman.” Unless it was a bad birthing, of course. But David didn’t want to jinx it.

  Christie took it on himself to pet Buella and keep her calm. She accepted the touch, preoccupied with what was going on with her body, her eyes glassy and focused on the beat of some internal drummer. She would move around quickly for brief spurts and then stand still again, panting.

  It was no more than an hour before something began to emerge from her vulva.

  “Look.” David pointed at the bit of brown.

  “What is that? A nose?”

  “The tip of a hoof. When the calf’s in the right position, it comes out front legs first, and its head is resting on its knees. We’ll see a few inches of leg before we see the head.”

  Once the calf was in the birth canal, it went quickly. Buella strained and soon two full hoofs were visible, side by side, then more of the legs. Finally a perfect little face appeared, eyes closed behind the gooey coating of the amniotic sack.

  “Oh wow!” Christie was enthralled. He stared at the little face. “That’s a calf!”

  David chuckled. “Funny how that works.”

  “That’s crazy!” Christie was very excited, and that made David smile like a loon.

  “It’s just nature.”

  “So what do we do? Do we need to pull it out or…?”

  “It’s best to let it happen at its own pace. But you can catch the calf if you want so it doesn’t hit the floor. It won’t hurt it to fall, but you can ease its way down.”

  “Awesome.”

  Christie took this duty very seriously. He stayed right by the calf as more of it emerged. He even held on to the front legs, not pulling on them, but just supporting the weight. The full head appeared, then the shoulders.

  “Its face is so perfect, but it doesn’t look awake,” he said quietly. “It’s alive, right?”

  “It’ll wake up once it’s out.” But David felt the calf’s throat just to be sure. Its heartbeat was steady.

  “So we’re about to see if it’s a boy or a girl,” Christie commented happily.

  “Yup.”

  He loved Christie’s shining face, the light in his eyes. He loved being able to give this experience to him. But as soon as he thought that, David was reminded of other births.

  He was in the room when both Amy and Joe were born. The thought made his stomach clench with anxiety, reminding him of Susan and the entire life he’d had with her. That life felt like it had happened to someone else. Christie would never have that experience—watching his child be born. And even if he did maybe have a baby with a surrogate someday, David probably wouldn’t be there to see it.

  “It’s coming!” Christie said.

  The remainder of the calf suddenly slipped from Buella in a gush. Christie carefully lowered it to the floor. It was on the large side for a newborn since Buella had run a little late, but it was perfectly formed.

  Buella turned and began licking the calf at once, clearing it of sticky fluid. After a few moments, the calf opened its eyes and lifted its head.

  “It’s okay!” Christie exclaimed. “Oh my God! I just saw a calf being born!”

  David grinned. “Yup.”

  “And it’s a girl! Look!”

  David grabbed a box of wet wipes from the windowsill and handed some to Christie. He cleaned his hands as Buella licked the calf. The newborn was looking around as if entirely bewildered to find itself in a barn. It seemed content to just hang out in a tangled lump on the floor, but Buella was having none of it. She insistently nudged the calf to get up. Being a mother seemed to bring out the bossy streak in most animals.

  Christie tossed the soiled wet wipes and then put his arm around David, rested his head on David’s shoulder. They watched the calf struggle to its feet, fall, and struggle again until at last it was standing.

  “This is amazing. Thanks for sharing it with me,” Christie said.

  David kissed his blond hair. “Glad it worked out.”

  “It’s just beautiful. This whole thing.”

  David knew what Christie meant. The morning light was streaming in through the windows of the open half door of the stall. The straw was thick and clean. The barn interior always had had oodles of rustic charm, and there was a happy new mother cow and her newborn calf. It was the kind of moment you wanted to linger on, to remember. Life could dole out a lot of manure, so you had to weigh the good stuff like gold.

  “There are things I’d miss about the farm if I left,” David said without thinking about it.

  “Is that something you’ve thought about? Leaving the farm?” Christie asked with surprise.

  David nodded. He pulled Christie closer, and Christie tightened the arm around his waist. “I’ve thought about it. But I wouldn’t get so much for it that I could retire in luxury. I’d have to find another line of work.”

  “But if it’s paid off. You’d probably at least get enough to support you for a few years if you wanted to go to school. Hell, you don’t even need to get a degree. You can fix anything. In a place like New York, a handyman who’s actually reliable and can fix stuff is like the holy grail.”

  “I don’t want to be a handyman. I’m not that good with people, and I’d rather use my brain.” For once. He didn’t say it. Christie looked like he wanted to argue, but he swallowed the words.

  So far Christie had never pushed him, and David appreciated that. But he knew Christie wouldn’t stick around forever if he remained in the closet. In the closet. Geez, it seemed like only yesterday he couldn’t even admit to himself he was gay. Now he was officially “closeted.” The weight of Christie in his arms reminded him why he was more than willing to cop to it. If Christie was the prize, he’d admit to being the damned tooth fairy.

  Christie turned so he could put both arms around David’s neck. “But you could sell the farm if you wanted to? I mean, it’s yours all free and clear?”

  “On the deed, yes. But it’s Amy and Joe’s heritage too.”

 
“Do either one of them want to be a farmer?”

  “No. But they’re still young.”

  Christie frowned. “Listen, I appreciate that you’re a great dad and all…. But you need to think about yourself too.”

  “Thinking of himself” had been a foreign concept for most of his life. He never had that luxury when there were mouths to feed and bills to pay. But now? He had more freedom now than he’d had since he was eighteen. Heck, this thing with Christie wouldn’t have happened if that weren’t the case.

  “Maybe so. And I need to think about you too,” David added. Holding Christie like this, it was a growing conviction. The crack he’d created in his world was ever widening. He couldn’t imagine giving this up, going back to his previously lonely existence, back into denying himself. And yet he had no idea how to reconcile this… love affair… with the life he’d lived for so many years.

  “I know what you mean, though,” Christie pulled back a little so he could look at David’s face. “There are things I’ll miss about this place too, when I go back to the city.”

  “Me, I hope.”

  Christie stared at him. “That’s not what I meant. I don’t want to have to miss you. It’s not inevitable, is it?”

  David’s heart gave a weighty thump. Leave it to Christie to be blunt. He touched Christie’s cheek. “No. Not inevitable on my end.”

  Christie’s face softened. “You’re the end that matters. Because I’m all in.”

  David huffed a laugh. He couldn’t resist drawing Christie in tighter, hands on Christie’s back. He kissed Christie’s forehead and let his mouth rest there.

  “I’m the end that matters? You’re the one who’s young and beautiful.” Successful, generous, amazing. “You could do a lot better than a grizzled old man like me.”

  Christie shook his head. “Forty-one is not old! And I’ve been out there. I’ve sown probably almost as many wild oats figuratively as you have literally.” He laughed sadly. “I know a good thing when I have it. And you know how stubborn I can be.”

  “Be stubborn,” David urged. Be stubborn for me, Christie. Be stubborn for both of us.

  Christie pressed tighter, kissed his neck. David sighed, letting his head fall to the side. He smiled at himself—already horny and feeling deprived because they hadn’t had sex the night before. He’d gone for months between orgasms before. But everything about Christie aroused him. He couldn’t get enough.

  He looked toward the door, thinking about scooting Christie in that direction and back to the house. Something moved in the window. Startled, David pushed Christie back.

  “What is it?” Christie asked.

  “I thought I saw someone.” David hesitated, a sense of cold dread washing through him. He was sure he’d seen a face at the window.

  “Do you want to go see?” Christie suggested nervously.

  Right. No point standing here like a fool. Making his legs move, David went over to the door and left the stall. He didn’t see anyone outside the barn, but he thought he heard the slam of a car door.

  The dairy man wasn’t due until later that morning. Earl? But Earl never showed up before three. David walked quickly around the side of the barn and then past the old pump house. By the time he got to a clear view of the yard, he was too late to see who was there, but he heard the sound of a car driving fast down the driveway on the other side of the house.

  Please, God, let it have been the FedEx or UPS man. Maybe there would be a package at the back door. Maybe the guy was looking for a signature or something.

  David walked up to the house, Christie trailing behind him. On the porch stoop was a large platter covered with foil. Definitely not FedEx or UPS.

  He lifted the foil and saw it was a platter of Christmas cookies. They were in a decorative ceramic dish shaped like a Christmas tree, but the dish was cracked down the middle, and some of the cookies were broken too. Whoever left it had dropped it on the stoop, either accidentally or angrily, or in too much of a hurry.

  His heart pounding, he picked up a piece of cookie and tasted it. Way too much flour and not enough sugar. Evelyn Robeson?

  “Is everything all right?” Christie came up behind him. “What happened?”

  David looked up at him. “She must have seen us.”

  “She who? It wasn’t Amy, was it?”

  “No.” David sighed. “A woman from our church.”

  “I’m sorry, David.” Christie looked worried.

  “It’s not your fault.” I shouldn’t have been holding you, kissing you in the barn in broad daylight.

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  The moment felt wretched, almost as bad as when Joe was there. David hated the way he felt—fearful, ashamed, and guilty. And he didn’t like the look on Christie’s face—worried and unhappy. This wasn’t Christie’s problem.

  “It’s fine.” He stood up and brushed off his hands. “Maybe it’s for the best. She’s been trying to suggest she and I should date, and I wasn’t interested.”

  Would Evelyn hold her tongue? That was the real problem. Would she tell people at church what she’d seen? If she did there was a good chance Amy and Joe would hear about it. Maybe she’d be too embarrassed to talk about it, though. And what had she seen other than a hug? Maybe she’d misinterpret it.

  But the broken platter didn’t bode well.

  “I should go home and get to work. It’s after ten,” Christie said in a worried voice. “Thanks for letting me see the birth, David. It was amazing. And I’m so sorry about this.” He waved at the cookie platter.

  “It’s all right. I’ll see you tonight. At your place?”

  Christie nodded and managed a smile. “Okay. Have a good day.”

  But nothing felt quite right as Christie walked away.

  Act III: The Reaping

  Chapter 18

  God, Christie hated being in New York for Christmas.

  No, that wasn’t true. He loved being in New York for Christmas. It was being in New York without David he hated. It felt like someone had surgically removed half his ribs, so he was walking around unsupported internally. They also took all of his sense of humor while they were at it, excised that sucker with an X-Acto knife.

  Kyle did his best, blond bundle of holiday bliss that he was. They went shopping at Macy’s, Tiffany’s, and all the best holiday stores. They walked around Rockefeller Center and Central Park. They went to a midnight off-Broadway production of Scrooge. But all the wonderful tastes and sights, the cheerful times with his friends…. He wanted to share those with David. Without him there it all felt pointless. Christie tried not to let that show. He didn’t want to be a downer.

  He was glad to see Kyle and Billy seemed happy. They argued now and then because Kyle was opinionated and Billy was no pushover, but they were also affectionate nearly all the time and seemed to have slipped into hardcore coupledom—finishing each other’s sentences, dividing up household chores with the grace of a well-oiled machine, and still having enthusiastic sex, if the noises that came from their bedroom at night was any indication.

  Christie and David did those things too. But the difference was Kyle and Billy were permanent. They were secure. They were in a place Christie could only dream about.

  It was pretty much impossible for him to lie on the couch in his mounds of bedding and not think about David. To be fair he thought about David all day, but at night in particular, with the sounds of Kyle and Billy making love in the next room, his brain wanted to take the long view.

  He wondered if he would still be with David when next Christmas rolled around. And if so if they’d be in a painful long-distance relationship, or if he’d still be at his aunt’s house or what. He couldn’t imagine himself spending a family Christmas at the farm. It was hard to see himself ever fitting into the family unit that included David, Amy, and Joe. And that was upsetting and depressing as hell. It triggered a lot of his deepest insecurities. Christie had been raised that a family was a mama, a poppa, and the
kids. There was no place in that picture for the gay boy.

  They went to The Boiler Room on Christmas Eve. Kyle was all excited about seeing their old friends. But it felt flat, like watching an old movie you’d seen way too many times before. Nothing about The Boiler Room had changed, including the regulars who commented on, bitched about, or tried to get a quickie from the fresh newbies. But Christie had changed. He couldn’t believe he’d spent so much of his life there, all of his twenties, in fact. He’d so much rather be spending a quiet evening with David, cooking dinner, cuddling on the couch with their books, or watching a movie, spending long hours exploring each other’s bodies.

  To make it worse, he had to fend off quite a few advances. Every time he said no he thought about how much of himself he’d given away all those years. This was a life he definitely didn’t want to return to. But if things with David didn’t work out, he could see himself getting sucked back into this because… what else was there, really?

  He knew he and David were incredibly important to each other, that they had a singularly unique connection. They had from the start. But he also knew David had some very difficult decisions to make.

  He spent most of that evening at The Boiler Room texting David on his phone. Kyle got annoyed with him and dragged him outside for some “fresh air.”

  “Jesus, Christie, I’ve never seen you like this,” Kyle bitched. “You’re pining more than our goddamned Christmas tree.”

  That made Christie laugh. “Sorry. I’m trying not to be pathetic, believe me.”

  “Look, I’m glad you’ve met someone, but I’m worried about you.”

  “I’m worried too. What if I can’t hang on to it this time, Kyle? The one time when I desperately want to. When I have to.”

  Kyle pouted sympathetically and gave Christie a hug. “If you guys are meant to be together, you will be. He’ll do the right thing. And if he doesn’t, then it never would have worked out and he doesn’t deserve you. No matter what you’ll be okay, Christie. You always have been, and you always will be.”