by Tricia Goyer
“This car is yours? Sweet.” Jordan tossed his suitcase in the trunk and his backpack in the backseat, and then climbed into the front seat.
“Yeah, my Uncle Pete got it for me.”
“He sounds pretty cool, man.”
“Yeah, Pete’s cool. In fact, most of my family is, now that I’m used to being here.”
“So what are our plans for the week? Are we going on a cattle drive, or maybe breaking some wild horses?”
Sam paused, again wondering if he should tell Jordan about the music video or if he should wait. After all, neither of them liked country music, so there was no rush to share this information.
“Well.” Sam started the car and drove out of the airport parking lot, paying his buck at the toll booth. “The fair starts Tuesday, but we don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”
“The county fair? Like in Charlotte’s Web?”
Sam laughed. “Yeah, sort of. Only not quite as animated.”
Jordan laughed, getting the joke. “Well, that’s cool. I’ve always wanted to go to a real county fair.”
“You have? I thought you’d rather just hang out and skateboard. We don’t have any skate parks or anything but—”
Jordan waved his hand in the air. “Dude, I’ve been working so much that I’m a little rusty on my board. Besides, I can skate anywhere, but how often do I get to experience a fair?” Jordan sat up straighter. “Will there be any cute girls there?”
“Yeah, my girlfriend is real cute, but she’s not available. But some of her friends are all right.”
Jordan raised his hands, surrendering. “That’s all you have to say. I’m there.”
Sam laughed. It was great being with Jordan again, picking up where they’d left off as if only a week had passed, not a year and a half.
Sam pulled into the closest hamburger joint, deciding they had better get some food before driving home. Then maybe he’d tell Jordan about Shae Lynne.
Sam parked and turned off his car, but before he climbed out, Jordan’s laughter filled the car.
“No way! You can’t be serious.” Jordan pointed to two teens about their age, parking a hay truck in the back corner. The guys climbed out and strode to the restaurant. Their faces were smudged with dirt, and their hands were tucked into the deep pockets of their overalls. If Jordan hadn’t pointed them out Sam wouldn’t have thought anything about them. In Nebraska life meant work. And work meant, well, getting dirty and wearing clothes that fit the job.
“Yeah, I know. My Uncle Pete looks like that all the time. I wouldn’t be caught dead hanging around town looking like that.”
“Dude, where did they escape from, the funny farm?” Jordan slapped his leg.
Sam laughed. “Nah, most likely just got off the back forty.”
“Doing what? Rolling around with their farm animals?”
Sam’s smile slid from his face when Jordan’s laughter didn’t let up. “No. They’ve been working. You know, riding their tractors and—”
“Their tractors?” Jordan said the word with disbelief, as if Sam had just told him they’d been riding camels. “No way, Sam! Where’s my camera? I need a photo of those tractor boys.” Jordan turned and pulled his backpack from the backseat.
Before he could unzip the pocket, Sam reached over and touched Jordan’s hand. “Hey, I don’t think you should do that.” Sam didn’t want to tell Jordan that he often drove a tractor. Jordan had no idea what kind of work these guys did every day. No idea what kind of work he did. Or Grandpa. Or Uncle Pete. “Seriously, you just need to keep your camera where it is.”
Jordan was still laughing, but his laughter softened, and he looked at Sam in surprise. “What? Are you kidding? Our friends back home are going to die when they see these hicks.”
Jordan unzipped his backpack and pulled out a digital camera.
“Man, I’m serious.” Sam’s voice was stern, and it obviously caught Jordan by surprise because Jordan’s laughter finally stopped, and he turned to Sam with wide eyes.
“Sam, man, don’t get offended. It’s not like I’m making fun of you or anything.”
“I know. It’s just that things are different around here. When I moved here I thought it was all lame too, but then I realized it’s no joke. Not many people have an easy life around here. They work hard.”
“I wasn’t saying they don’t work hard. It’s just like between here and the airport I’ve already seen more tractors, farmers, and cows than I’ve seen in my lifetime. It’s like I’ve been transported back to 1850 or something.”
“Yeah, well, you better be thankful for those things.” Sam pointed at the hamburger place in front of him. “Where do you think all the food you eat comes from? Do you think it just magically appears on the supermarket shelves?”
Jordan shook his head and closed the car door. “Man, Sam, what’s gotten into you? I was just messing around.”
Jordan stalked into the restaurant and ordered, paying for his food himself without waiting for Sam. Sam followed, ordering his favorite meal, but by the time he sat down with it he wasn’t that hungry anymore. He felt annoyed with Jordan, but also upset with himself.
What had gotten into him? What was his problem? Having Jordan here was supposed to be fun.
Sam pushed his soda aside, and glanced at the guy sitting across from him. That guy used to be his best friend.
Sam sighed, knowing it was going to be a long three hours back to Bedford.
ON SATURDAY AFTERNOON Charlotte sat at the dining table, looking over the fair schedule for the week ahead and penciling in where she needed to be when. Christopher sat on one side of her, reading over the new dog-training manual she’d picked up after safely dropping off the new batch of pies at Rosemary’s house. Emily sat on the other side of her, looking over the photographs she’d taken and occasionally asking questions about the video shoot.
Christopher glanced up from the manual. “Grandma, when are Sam and Jordan supposed to be here? I’ve been waiting forever,” he whined.
“Forever?” Emily sighed. “You love to exaggerate.”
“Okay, not forever, but for as long as I knew Jordan was coming. I like him. He always gives me shoulder rides.”
Emily glanced up from her photographs. “Yeah, well, you were a lot smaller then. You’re too big now.”
“No sir. Maybe Jordan got bigger too. You ever think of that?”
“Unfortunately,” Charlotte interrupted, “Sam called from the road to say he and Jordan were going to stop and hang out and skate around the high school for a while.”
“What?” Christopher folded his arms over his chest. “That’s not fair. Doesn’t he know we’ve been waiting?”
“Yes, but, well, I’m sure they just want to spend time together, to catch up before Jordan has to come and meet everyone.”
Even though Charlotte believed that, she also guessed something else was going on. When she’d talked to Sam she couldn’t help but notice the discouragement in his voice. She had a sneaky feeling he was trying to find stuff to do around town to stall before coming home to the farm.
Charlotte bit her lip, remembering the first days and weeks when her grandchildren had arrived. Would Jordan have the same shocked and dismayed attitude when he arrived here? She hadn’t really thought about that, and she hoped it wouldn’t be the case.
“Did the video guy tell you what day they’re going to be here?” Emily’s voice interrupted Charlotte’s thoughts. She glanced over to see her granddaughter pushing the photos to the side and opening a bottle of nail polish she’d brought down from her room.
“Actually I think they might be coming out today. He’s going to get back to us.” Charlotte wrinkled her nose at the strong odor of polish.
“I do have to turn my back on Toby after I get her to sit,” Christopher interjected.
“Uh-huh,” Charlotte answered, writing down the time when the dog show would be happening.
“So do you think they’re going to need extr
as in the video?” Emily asked, leaning close to the table as she worked on her nails.
The phone rang, and Bob rose to answer it. “Hello. Yes, this is Bob.” He was quiet, listening. “Sure, that’s fine. Yes.”
He leaned against the counter and picked at the grapes Charlotte had set out, popping them into his mouth as he talked. “Okay. Yes, I’ll let my wife know.”
Charlotte watched Bob as she chatted with the kids, noticing the ease on his face.
“Great. Talk to you later. Bye now.” Bob hung up the phone and walked to the dining room with lightness in his step. Everyone’s eyes were on him as he approached.
“So Will and the set designer will be here in an hour or so. They’re just getting something to eat in town. They’re going to scope out the farm, figure out where they want to do their shots, and check out the animals.
“The animals?” Charlotte frowned.
Bob chuckled. “For props, or something. I guess they want to see how our cows, chickens, and pets look in case they want to bring fill-ins.”
“Are you joking?” Emily shook her fingers to dry her nail polish. “What if Trudy doesn’t cut it? They’re going to bring in a fill-in cow to take her place?”
“Our cow is going to have a body double?” Charlotte laughed.
“Can I show them the chickens?” Christopher jumped to his feet.
“I think we all can.” Bob approached the window and looked out.
“Did they say anything about extras?” Emily asked again.
“Yes, actually they did. But I don’t have any details yet.”
Emily smiled and went back to painting her nails with precision, as if prepping herself to step in as needed, humming a tune Charlotte came to recognize as Shae Lynne’s song “Just Another Friday.”
As Bob walked outside, Charlotte was sure she could feel the load lighten. They would be able to build up their nest egg. She imagined that took a ton of bricks off Bob’s shoulders. Charlotte just wished she could feel so at ease about the decision.
If they’re worried about the chickens being good enough, what about us? What if they change their minds? Are we depending on too much too soon?
THE PHONE RANG just as Charlotte was checking the pantry to see what they’d have for dinner, and Bob answered it again. Expectant eyes focused on him as he returned to the table.
“It was Frank down at the fairgrounds. They need to write a few checks and want me to come down. They need two signers on each check, and Chet is up in Harding.”
“But what about those video guys?” Charlotte looked up at Bob. “You’re not going to leave me here to deal with them, are you?”
“You don’t have to deal with them, Charlotte. You just have to show them around. The kids will help you.”
Charlotte narrowed her gaze at Bob. While it was true that this money would be a blessing to their bank account, she still worried about the video’s potentially negative influence on the kids.
She decided on roast chicken and potatoes for dinner while Christopher and Emily waited on the porch, discussing who should show what. Charlotte could hear them through the open window and was happy when they finally decided they would go together to give a tour of the farm.
Soon a black sedan pulled into the driveway. Welcomed by a barking and excited Toby, Will got out of the car and approached the porch, introducing his co-worker, Buck. This time Will was dressed in an ordinary pair of black jeans and a white T-shirt. Charlotte was happy to see he’d given up on the brightly colored vest and cowboy hat from yesterday.
“Mrs. Stevenson.” Will scanned the farm. “It’s even more beautiful than I remember. Don’t you think so, Buck?”
“Absolutely. This is even better than I was picturing. It’s like the Waltons meet the twenty-first century.”
“The who?” Christopher asked, scratching his head.
“Oh, just an old television show your mom and uncles used to watch,” Charlotte explained. “It’s about a big family that lived in the country.”
“Did they have a cow like Trudy?” Christopher asked.
“I’m not sure.” Will nodded his chin toward the barn. “Why don’t you show me, and we’ll find out.”
The tour took longer than Charlotte thought it should. Every few steps the set designer stopped to write some notes and take a few photographs.
“We have to choose the best spots and try to film as much as we can,” Buck explained. “There’s a lot of equipment to set up, and we want to move it as few times as possible.”
In the barn, it was Emily who took the lead in introducing their cow.
“This is Trudy. She’s a Holstein, and she provides the milk for the farm. We brought her in early from grazing. She usually stays out until dark,” Emily explained. “It takes about twenty minutes to milk her by hand.” She patted the cow’s back.
“You actually drink milk after it comes out of that?” Buck eyed the cow.
“Don’t you drink milk?” Charlotte asked, trying to hide her grin.
“Yes, but only in lattes or those gallon containers I get from the supermarket shelf.” Buck rolled his eyes; suddenly he didn’t seem as friendly as he had been when they first met.
“Do you want me to show you how to milk her?” Emily asked with a smirk. “Then you’ll know exactly what you’re drinking.”
Will shook his head. “Don’t think we’ll need that. We just need her to stand in the field during one segment of the video. No milking involved. But we would like to see your horses.”
“I’ll show you.” Emily led the way to the corral. The sun was lower now but still warmed the farm.
“The black one is Shania. The bay with the blaze on his face is Tom. Ben is the other bay with the star on his forehead,” Emily explained, pointing.
“Yeah, Princess is the one we ride,” Christopher cut in. “And Stormy is Britney’s baby,” he recited with pride. “The horses belong to Uncle Pete.”
Charlotte stood in the back of the group, watching as the two men looked at the horses and the farm with a critical eye. For the first time it became real to her that their farm was going to be featured in a video that thousands, maybe millions, of people would watch. It was an overwhelming thought, really, that their place had been chosen for its rustic charm and quaintness. To her, rustic just meant they hadn’t been as diligent at repainting the house and barn as they should have been. And quaint … well, it was a nice way to say that things were old.
The more the men walked and talked, the more they seemed to relax. They exclaimed over the horses in the corral, the tall stalks of corn, and the rows of soybeans. Walking back to the house, they even eyed Charlotte’s garden with its tall sunflowers.
“We could show you the creek too.” Charlotte pointed to the line of trees in the distance. “That’s what the farm’s named after, Heather Creek.”
“Oh, I’m sure it’s beautiful, Mrs. Stevenson, but we couldn’t get our crew down there without tearing up a lot of your crops and land. We’ll have to stick to shooting around the house and barn this time,” Will explained.
“That’s fine, but please call me Charlotte. And I’m sorry I’ve been so rude; I haven’t been very hospitable. It’s hot out here. Would you like something to drink? Water, juice, milk?” She couldn’t help but smile as she said that last word.
“A bottle of water would be great,” Buck commented.
“I’ll take one of those too,” Will said. “That’s kind of you.”
“We don’t have bottled water, but it’s cold from our well.” Emily offered a huge grin as if she were trying out for a toothpaste commercial. “Would you like water in glasses? Or maybe lemonade?”
“Either would be great, thank you.” Will eased himself down onto the front porch steps. Buck reluctantly sat beside him. Charlotte could picture him in some nice studio, but he seemed very uncomfortable on the farm.
Emily hurried into the house to get the water, and Will whistled to Toby.
“What’
s your dog’s name again?”
“Toby. It’s a she. You want to see her tricks?” Christopher asked, tugging on Buck’s arm.
Buck pulled his arm back. Then he leaned close to Christopher and talked low. “Hey, kid, I’m here to shoot a music video, not an episode of Toby the Wonder Dog. Why don’t you two go run off and chase the chickens or something?”
Charlotte turned and eyed the man, letting him know she’d heard his remark. Then she focused her attention on Christopher.
“Maybe our guests will be interested a little later. I was just going to ask if they wanted some pie.”
“Pie? Homemade pie?” For the first time Charlotte noticed a smile on Buck’s face.
“Yes, we have peach, strawberry, and apple-caramel.”
“Yeah, we have a lot of different kinds because Grandma was driving them into town when a lamb ran in front of the car. She slammed on the brakes, and the pies got smashed, so now we get to eat them.”
“Smashed?” Will cocked an eyebrow.
Charlotte chuckled. “They just hit each other, and the crusts got a little crumbled. They still taste great, I promise.”
The men seemed more relaxed when Charlotte and Emily returned with the water and dessert. Buck had chosen strawberry, and Will had picked apple-caramel.
Will closed his eyes as he took a bite. He chewed slowly, savoring it. A smile filled his face as he swallowed. “I have to say, Charlotte, this is the best pie I’ve ever eaten. You should go into business. You could be the next Sara Lee or Little Debbie.”
Charlotte and Emily looked at each other and laughed.
“Oh, we’ve done that,” Christopher commented. “It was called the Heather Creek Pie Company, right, Grandma?”
“That’s right.” Then Charlotte went on to explain about their venture.
Interestingly enough, the men seemed to enjoy hearing about the pie company. They finished their pies and began asking more questions about living in Nebraska. Soon the kids were telling them about the tornado and the tractor accident.