Her Country Heart

by Reggi Allder

  “I have to. Bobby and I have to live in this town. I’m his mother and I need a good reputation for him and for the farm. I can’t be the slut who runs the organic apple farm.”

  He recoiled from her words.

  She tossed the apple back in the bowl. “You’ve done enough to keep your promise to Granny. No one could ask more of you.”

  She pushed her eye glasses out of the way and rubbed her eyes. “Wyatt, I’ve been selfish, because I wanted your help. Bobby needed you, but we’re okay now. It never occurred to me that helping on the farm could hurt your job. I didn’t realize until now that while you’re here your career is at a standstill and your income has stopped. I definitely don’t want that. I—you can leave.”

  “Amy…”

  She left the room.

  ***

  Early the next day, Wyatt spent a couple of hours tuning Granny’s old Volvo. He fired it up and the old work horse purred. He’d made an appointment at the service station to get new tires, realignment and balancing and have new brakes installed.

  When he left the farm he’d have the peace of mind knowing, in case of another emergency, Amy and Bobby would have a safe car to drive. His heart thundered at the thought of either of them needing medical care again.

  Last night he finally checked his messages and found his brother was right. Both his boss and his agent sounded damn pissed that he hadn’t bothered to return their calls. He’d better get in-touch with them or he could be looking for a new livelihood.

  His only excuse for not calling sooner was that after his accident he wasn’t sure he wanted to go back on the circuit. Lying in bed in pain, he wondered what would make a relatively smart man, with a college degree in business, take the kind of risks he took just to entertain an audience who really didn’t give a damn if he was hurt as long as they got a thrill.

  At some point the money wasn’t a good enough motive. Fame sure didn’t mean anything. In fact it was an annoyance. So why did he do it?

  It might be time to do something with his degree. Was he ready to settle-down and sit behind a desk? Could he picture himself pushing paper all day and be happy to do it or would he be bored out of his mind?

  He slammed the hood of the Volvo down harder than he meant to. He didn’t know what he wanted to do. And the confused emotions he had for Amy weren’t making things any easier.

  His body hardened at the thought of her. He wanted her. If that was all he needed, he could take her and move on like he’d done with so many other women. But for the first time he didn’t just want that. He needed more.

  She was constantly on his mind, getting in the way of his usual thoughts. Until recently worry had been a stranger to him, but now it was a constant companion. Gut churning concern for Amy and Bobby pulsed in him. The sooner he left and got back to his old ways, the sooner his life would return to normal. He’d go back to the party circuit as well as the rodeo circuit. Yeah, that was the answer. Get out of town ASAP.

  ***

  The weather changed as September neared its end, the days not nearly as hot and the nights cooled. October’s crisp weather would be here soon. Amy noticed the leaves were starting to change color. Her favorite season of year, but this time it was difficult to enjoy it. The stress of making ends meet and the need to be sure the farm succeeded was pulling at her.

  Hard to believe it had only been a few weeks since Wyatt left to go back on the rodeo circuit. Without him the days went by slowly. And even the fall colors seemed grayer, duller. It was her own fault because against the advice of her friends and her own good judgment, she’d fallen in love with him.

  From the desk in the den she glanced out the window to the backyard and the cottage and saw the sign Bobby and Wyatt made together. Her son missed him too. Daily he asked when Wyatt was coming back. She was becoming good at avoiding answering the question. After all, she couldn’t tell him what she didn’t know.

  There’d been no word from Wyatt. She hadn’t expected one, but she’d hoped that he might send a text or an email for Bobby.

  He talked about horses and said he was going to be a cowboy just like Wyatt when he grew up. Thankfully, kindergarten had started and he was now busy making new friends. Soon he’d forget about Wyatt and move on. Wouldn’t he?

  With the horses gone, the only thing that gave her a belief Wyatt might return was the costly exercise equipment that sat gathering dust in the corner of the barn. Or maybe he’s send a moving company to pick it up.

  Too much pondering and no answers, she turned her interest back to the computer screen. Granny’s Organic Apple Farm website was finally up and running. She’d been pleased that the local women had proudly shared their family apple recipes and allowed her to put them on the website with their names and photos proudly displayed next to each recipe. Her favorite was the apple butter recipe.

  Each day she learned information that could help with the running of the farm. Articles on the internet talked about the care of organic apples and how to nurture the organic soil. She learned about diseases and bugs that could attack apple trees. More than she ever imagined existed and she tried not to be repulsed by the information on creepy crawly critters, after all, she was a farmer now.

  Manny Gordon, the man who’s crew harvested her apples, ordered new trees for the north orchard to be planted next spring. And he offered to lend a hand to get the soil ready for the new plants. Though he cut her a good deal, she still had to make sure she had the money to pay him when the time came.

  Soon the pumpkins would be ready to pick. She and Bobby had nurtured a special pumpkin they hoped would win the “Biggest in the County Contest” at 4H. Every day he watered that pumpkin and checked to see if it had grown any bigger. Amy smiled. With the rains coming, soon he wouldn’t have to work so hard.

  Today she was setting up a Facebook page to talk about the farm’s maze and pumpkin patch for Halloween and Thanksgiving and had taken to tweeting every day. If she could entice families from Sacramento to come to visit the farm during the holidays, she was convinced it would pay off. And some of them might return for a Christmas tree in December.

  Of course none of that was going to happen if she couldn’t get the bales of hay out of the driveway and into the field and formed into a maze.

  Jonathan Hansen, the old man whose farm bordered hers, had brought the bales to her and they littered the driveway. But moving them into the field and forming them into a maze, proved to be harder than she’d thought. So now they sat waiting for her.

  If Wyatt was here he’d know what to do to get them in shape. Stop. Grow up and learn to depend on your own ingenuity.

  She’d proclaimed to Wyatt she could run the farm. Well, it was time to do it, the moment to prove she could manage and set an example of success for Bobby.

  She rushed out the back door and almost ran into the cord of wood piled near the bales of hay in the driveway. She’d forgotten she ordered the wood to prepare for winter. The oak logs waited to be stacked in the wood box on the porch and it needed to be done before the rains came and soaked the wood.

  No matter how tired she was, later tonight she’d have to work on the wood pile. She glanced at her hands. Her nails were broken and her callused hands.

  A decision about repairs on the chicken coop had to be made too. If she wanted to raise free range chickens and sell the eggs it would have to be fixed soon. The chickens needed a warm place to roost when the cooler weather returned.

  Why had she thought she could manage this farm on her own? She needed a handyman. No what she needed was Wyatt, but he wasn’t here, never would be. And even if he returned for awhile, he wouldn’t stay. To him a wife and family was a burden to be avoided.

  A warm breeze raked over her as she wandered up a dusty road to her neighbor Jonathan Hansen’s farm. With her sneaker clad foot, she kicked a clump of dirt out of her way. Could she keep her nerve and ask Mr. Hansen a question? A simple request for assistance had always been difficult for her. Even as a child
she didn’t like to ask for help. Her desire to do it by herself was always foremost in her mind.

  A small, natural wood, ranch house appeared in a grove of Ponderosa pine trees. With a deep breath, she walked up the front steps and knocked on the door.

  No answer. After several knocks, she wandered around the farmhouse and saw fenced enclosure. Mr. Hansen in his make shift barnyard was tending to his goats.

  A lanky man with grey hair and blue eyes, she couldn’t guess his age, but he carried his body with the strength of a man still in full command.

  He smiled when he saw her, and brushed the dust off his jean coveralls and blue work shirt. “Mrs. Long.” He bowed slightly.

  “Hi Mr. Hansen, nice day we’re having.”

  “How you doing with that maze of yours?”

  “Um.” She paused, surprised by his question, apparently not a man to make small talk. “Well I—that’s what I came to talk to you about.”

  He wiped his snarly hands on a blue bandana. “What can I do for you?”

  “I see you have a small tractor and I was wondering—” Amy hesitated. If she phased it wrong she’d loose the help she so badly needed. “I uh—”

  “Spit it out girl.”

  CHAPTER 16

  Mr. Hansen’s voice sounded sharp, but his eyes remained kind, a smile still on his face.

  “I could give you free range eggs if you help me get my hay bales into a maze. I don’t have any money, but I’d give you as many eggs as you want.”

  He waved his hands in the direction of his chicken coop. Then he wiped his brow with his bandana and put it in his back pocket. “Do I look like I need eggs?”

  “Well, I—”

  She could feel her cheeks burn. Without another word she turned walked away.

  “Don’t run off girl,” he shouted.

  She stopped and looked back at him.

  “You give up awful easy. If you’re gonna be a famer you can’t quit at the first sign of trouble, cause farming is nothing but trouble.” He winked.

  “Uh, I—”

  “Now Mrs. Long, like I said, I got lots of eggs. But I don’t have no apple pie. Since my wife Lucy died a few years back, I’ve had none.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that.”

  He rubbed his hand over his mouth. “I’d sure fancy some homemade pie.”

  “You know I’ve got lots of apples and I can make pie. Even if you can’t help me move the bales, I’d be pleased to bake you an apple pie. Of course I know it won’t be as good as your Lucy’s pies, but I’ll do my best.”

  “That’s good enough for me. I’ll bring my tractor down to your place tomorrow morning and move them bales to wherever you want.”

  “Oh thank you Mr. Hansen. Thank you so much.”

  “Call me Johnny. All my friends do.”

  “I’m Amy to my friends.” She grinned and offered her hand.

  He hesitated, cleaned his hand on his jeans and then took her hand. “Nice to make your acquaintance Amy.”

  ***

  Just after she returned to the farmhouse, Amy’s smart phone rang. “Hello.”

  “Are we on to meet at the ice cream parlor at noon today?” Vanna asked.

  “Yeah. Does that still work for you?”

  “It’s fine. My teaching assistant will cover for me at school. Emma will stop by Laurie’s house and give her a ride. Noon should give us all enough time to talk before you have to pick up Bobby from the after school program.”

  “Great. See ya.”

  She glanced at the regulator clock in the den, just enough time to shower and dress. She should wash her hair and put on make-up, but if she did she’d be late.

  ***

  When Amy arrived at Sophie’s ice cream parlor, dressed in old jeans and a new white t-shirt, Vanna shouted hello from the table near the window.

  “Hey,” Amy said.

  “Emma and Laurie are on their way. They just texted me.”

  “Great. It’s been a long time since we were all together. I kept up with them on Facebook, but it’ll be fun to see them in person. ” She sat down at the table. “Vanna, is that a new tablet?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Let’s see if we can connect.”

  “I wouldn’t exactly call my mom’s store a hot spot, but I’ll try. What do you want to look up?”

  Before Amy could answer, Vanna typed in Wyatt Cameron’s name in the search engine. “Bet you’d like to know what he’s doing right now.”

  “Vanna, not here.”

  “No one’s looking over our shoulder.” Her friend laughed.

  Amy had never told anyone, but she’d followed Wyatt’s progress on the rodeo circuit online. She was glad he’d recovered from his injuries and was winning again. No one seemed able to stop him. Even his brother wasn’t successful against him.

  “Look Amy, here’s a photo.”

  She glanced at Wyatt’s smiling face. Too often, in photos, he had a gorgeous woman on his arm when he accepted one award or another. In this picture he and an unknown brunette grinned at the camera.

  “Amy.”

  “Yeah. I see it.” She tried to sound uninterested as she stared at the gorgeous woman next to him. What had made Amy think he’d cared for her? For an intelligent woman, sometimes she was stupid, darn stupid.

  “I wonder who she is,” Vanna said.

  She watched Vanna scroll down and saw several photos of Wyatt with different women on his arm.

  “I don’t know who they are, but there sure are a lot of them.” Amy yawned and hoped her voice had just right amount of boredom in it.

  “You can quit yawning. You don’t fool me Amy McCarthy Long. I know you want him,” Vanna whispered in the crowded shop. “You told me how much you miss him. You fancy him. Admit it?”

  “Do not. What’s so great about him anyway? I don’t get it.”

  “Uh, well, let me see. He’s single, tall, handsome, and rich. Oh and he likes kids. Yeah, I don’t get why women like him either.

  “Enough.”

  “Okay Amy, you don’t want to talk about him, all right.” Vanna laughed. “You want a diet coke?”

  “Sounds good. As far as Wyatt is concerned, I haven’t heard a word from him since he left. So it doesn’t matter how I feel. He wants Charlene.”

  Vanna winkled her nose. “She’s not in any of the photos. There’s a different female in every picture. And none of them are Charlene. She must be an old story. Out of the picture so to speak.” She grinned.

  “Somehow that doesn’t make me feel better. He’s got a lot of women after him and I’m not about to be just another one in a long line of females wanting Wyatt Cameron. Nuff said.”

  “Liar, liar pants on fire,” Vanna said.

  Amy giggled. “You’ve got to get away from the daycare kids more often. You’re sounding just like them.”

  “I know. Isn’t it pathetic?”

  They both laughed.

  “I’ll get the cokes,” Vanna jumped up from the table heading toward the counter and then ran quickly back. “Look who just walked in,” she whispered and sat back down at the table.

  Amy glanced at the front door in time to see Charlene, wearing red leather pants and a matching waist length jacket, saunter in her four inch black sandals into the ice cream parlor.

  She tossed her long black hair back and even from where Amy was sitting, she could see the woman’s perfectly manicured red nails and painted lips. She was dressed to flaunt her beauty.

  Amy might have found her amusing if she weren’t now feeling underdressed and unfeminine in comparison.

  “Sophie, sugar, get me a diet coke with a drop of vanilla to go please,” the woman purred.

  “I’ll get our cokes.” Amy got up before Vanna could and strode to the counter. “Hi Charlene.”

  Lack of recognition spread across her face. She squinted. “You’re the apple girl. Aren’t you? From Granny’s farm.”

  “Yeah. I’m Amy.”

  “Wh
ere’s that darling little boy of yours?” She continued without giving her a glance. “Is his daddy back from San Francisco?”

  “We’re divorced.”

  “Oh.” Her eyes narrowed and her smile faded. “Wyatt belongs to me. Keep your dirty stubby little hands off him.”

  Unconsciously, Amy glanced at her own callused hands and then back at Charlene’s manicured fingertips. “I have no claim on him.” She hesitated. “And from what I’ve seen neither do you.”

  “You little witch.” She hissed. “If I were you I’d consider your reputation, especially with Wyatt living on your farm. For your little boy’s sake, I’d be careful who you piss off. It doesn’t take long for a nasty rumor to start in a small place like Sierra Creek.” The woman grabbed the paper cup so hard it looked like the coke might explode over the top.

  “Back off. Wyatt’s mine. I won’t warn you again.” The words squeezed out between her nearly closed perfectly white teeth. Then Charlene marched out of the shop.

  The wave of feral cat behavior shocked Amy. What brought on that tirade?

  “What just happened?” Vanna asked when she returned to the table carrying two diet cokes.

  “You got me. Guess I’ve gotten under her skin. Don’t know why.”

  “Maybe she’s seen the photos of Wyatt with all those women and knows he’s been living at the farm with you.”

  “Vanna, don’t look at me like that. We’re living in separate buildings. He stays in the cottage. Anyway, if she’s been watching him on the internet, she can see I’m not in any of the photos.”

  “Yeah, but neither is Charlene. She can’t get to the other women, but you’re here. Wyatt probably said something nice about you and it set her off.”

  Amy took a quick sip of cola and considered her friend’s words. “Maybe he said something nice about Bobby. They get along really well, but not about me. I’ve been nothing but a pain to him. He had a promise to keep and as executor of Granny’s will he has a job to do. That’s all.”

  “If he likes you, don’t push him away. You say you don’t need a man but…