Songbird Season

by Melanie Lageschulte

  “Those two won’t know what to do with all those toys.” Melinda laughed as she turned into her drive, then got out to check the mailbox. “He’s only had them for three days, and they’re already spoiled. Auggie’s happy, the cats are happy … they’re going to be the talk of the co-op, that’s for sure. Wonder what some of the regulars are going to think?”

  Dylan and Tyler must have been running late. The brothers were only teenagers but already seasoned sheep farmers, thanks to their dad, John Olson. Ed and Nathan both lived less than a mile away, but John was Melinda’s first call for sheep-related questions. The boys were eager to make a few bucks, and she was glad to get some extra hands for this task.

  It wasn’t a tough job, requiring only a few fence panels to create a makeshift chute across the barn aisle, but Melinda didn’t want to attempt this on her own. Sheep, like most animals and people, hated change, and there was no telling how the merge might go.

  Would the lambs resist leaving their section of the barn? What if some of the ewes didn’t readily accept the youngsters back into the fold? She thought about Annie, and her headstrong ways, and cringed.

  “I’m so glad the boys are coming over.” She carefully angled Lizzie in by the barn and cut the engine. “Maybe I can get them to help unload this chicken feed when we’re done.”

  Hobo ran around the front of the truck, barking his greeting. Sunny and Stormy barely looked up from their naps on the picnic table when she dashed by on her way to the back porch steps.

  It was just as well they weren’t looking for attention, and that Tyler and Dylan had yet to arrive. She’d received an email just before she left work, and couldn’t wait to open it again.

  Chase had come back two days ago, this time with an offer Melinda couldn’t refuse: forty percent off the farm photo’s digital package. This time, she said yes.

  She really wanted that photo. But more than that, she wanted to share it with Horace and Wilbur, and Kevin and Ada. Purchasing full rights to the image meant she could edit and crop it however she liked, make as many prints as she wanted. Every Schermann family member longing for a piece of the farm’s past could have one.

  Melinda powered on her laptop, and opened Chase’s email. She read his message again while the file downloaded, and couldn’t keep the smile off her face.

  So glad you decided to take advantage of this offer. It’s a great deal!

  And then: I’m usually off by five on Fridays.

  Chase has lingered in her yard for some time after she’d signed the invoice and given him her e-mail address. They talked about several things, none of them important, but she found herself feeling just a bit disappointed when he said he needed to go. It was more than thirty miles to his hometown of Meadville, and he needed to stop by the company office before his workday was done.

  Just before he got in the truck, Chase mentioned he’d like to see her again sometime, as long as manure wasn’t involved. He flashed that megawatt smile, and she couldn’t say no. And then, she flat-out asked if he was married.

  Nope, of course not!

  And then she’d said: “Maybe. That could be fun.”

  Maybe.

  Maybe she needed to give him a chance. Like Cassie had said, a nice guy had practically dropped out of the sky and landed in her yard. Maybe she shouldn’t be so quick to push him away.

  The printer gurgled to life, and the paper started to creep through. Melinda found herself holding her breath as the image began to appear. Seeing it on the screen was one thing; holding it in her hand would be another. And how stunning would it be once it was a real print, matted and framed and hanging on her wall? She gently lowered Hazel from her lap, snatched up the paper and a roll of tape, and hurried out into the hallway.

  “I know just where we’ll hang it,” she told Hobo, who ran ahead of her down the stairs. “Just wait until you see it!”

  Right there, between the front door and the dining-room window that looked toward the sunrise. The picture would be visible from several angles, and she could enjoy it every time she passed through.

  All the farmhouse’s windows were open, the heady scent of the lilacs blowing in with the humid breeze. The printout’s corners began to curl and move, and it was as if the leaves on its trees were rustling to life. She ripped off a small piece of tape, gently tacked the paper over the garish bluebirds, and took a significant step back.

  The house and the barn were exactly where they belonged. The tiny sheep grazed in the front pasture; which one might be Annie? And there was a miniature Hobo, trotting along the gravel drive.

  “Look,” she told him, “there you are! I bet you didn’t even notice the plane, or had any idea your picture was being taken. But you were in the right place at the right time.”

  She picked up Grace, who purred and tucked herself into Melinda’s arms. “And you know what? We all are.”

  There was a cloud of dust down by the mailbox. “Looks like my helpers are here.” She set Grace down and gave Hazel a gentle pat. “Time for a sheep rodeo! Hobo, I’m sorry, but you’ll need to stay up by the garage.”

  Melinda was surprised to see John at the wheel. “Sorry you’ve got only one assistant, and not two.” He adjusted his faded-green cap against the still-bright sun.

  “Linda has both the boys helping her get ready for the graduation party. I can’t believe Tyler’s senior year is almost over. Where does the time go?”

  He pulled a pair of work gloves out of his back pocket and followed Melinda and Hobo to the barn. Hobo let out a mournful whine when Melinda blocked his way inside. “Sorry, buddy, but you’d only be in the way.”

  They moved two smaller feed bunks from the back of the barn into the sheep’s main area, then tied spare fence panels across the aisle. Melinda filled a bucket with cracked corn and slipped through the gate into the lambs’ quarters, where they swarmed her with pleas for affection and a nibble of what was in the pail.

  The largest male lamb, which Melinda had started calling Caesar, pushed his friends aside and tried to get in a mouthful before she could pull the bucket away. The ewes were clustered by their troughs across the aisle, stamping their hooves with impatience and a bit of trepidation. Melinda was their caretaker; the arrival of anyone else, including a neighbor they knew, was cause for concern.

  “I hope this works,” she said doubtfully. “Do you think the lambs will just follow me?”

  John waited in the blocked-off aisle, his hand on the other gate. “Oh, it always does. Food’s an amazing motivator. And as long as the ewes get their share, everyone’s going to do just fine.”

  The lambs were happy to follow Melinda wherever she went, even if that was into a part of the barn they hadn’t visited in more than a month. Their arrival was met with surprise and mild curiosity from the ewes, who quickly lost interest once the corn was scattered in their troughs. With such a snack available, even Annie seemed unconcerned. The lambs received their rations in the feeders along the side wall, and a comfortable silence settled over the flock.

  “Well, that was too easy.” Melinda was relieved, but maybe a bit disappointed.

  John laughed as they put the fence panels away. “There might be some sniffing and snorting for a day or so, but they’ll settle down. Let’s go out and watch for the lambs to come into the pasture, see what they think of all this green grass.”

  Two of the ewes came first, but three of the babies were right behind. One of them let out a high-pitched call and they were off, racing across the field. Caesar was next. He sniffed the trampled ground right outside the door for a moment and then disappeared around the corner of the barn. Little Clover and the other two lambs didn’t seem too impressed as first, content to hover near the big sheep, but soon they were playing tag, gleefully kicking up their hooves.

  “Look at them jump!” John hooted. “They’re loving this.”

  Caesar and the other lambs were back from their victory lap, finally ready to settle down and explore the part of the pasture
closest to the barn.

  “You’ve got yourself quite the flock, Melinda. Just look at them, all together. There’s, what, eighteen with the lambs?”

  “Nineteen. I have nineteen.”

  Her heart swelled with pride at the sight of all of her sheep together again. “There were times I never believed a day like today was even possible.” A hint of regret found its way into her voice. “That there’d be this many of them, and that they’d all be healthy.”

  “There were some dark days, for sure. But you made it through. I knew you would. Oh, hey, look at that.”

  John bent down and gave the rusting pasture fence a tug. Even Melinda’s unexperienced eye could see the wires moving more than they should. “There’s a hole starting here, right where this panel joins the post.”

  Melinda sighed. “I’ll add it to the list. Once more spot to mend. The work never ends around here.”

  “Nope.” John shook his head, but he was grinning. “I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. As long as I’m here, I wanted to talk to you about something. Tyler wants to start his own little herd, make some extra money to put toward college. He’ll need a buck, of course. We could start checking the sales over in Eagle River, but I think I’ve spotted the perfect guy already.”

  He pointed at Caesar, who was twice the size of the smallest lamb. “You were smart to leave that guy as-is, he’ll be in demand for breeding stock when he grows up. Would you mind if I made you an offer?”

  She didn’t. The price made her smile, as it would make a dent in a few projects around the farm. “I hadn’t thought that far ahead yet,” she admitted. “I hate the thought of letting him go, of letting any of them go.”

  “He’s got maybe a month before he should be separated from the rest, so you don’t have to decide today. And you could visit him, any time you want.” John thought for a moment. “I know this was all a crazy accident, having these lambs in the first place. What are you going to do with the rest of them?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll just keep them.”

  John laughed. “You’re hooked, that’s plain to see. But they can be expensive lawnmowers, when you’ve got this many.”

  “Well, what about their wool?” Melinda suddenly had an idea. “You know, someone’s starting a craft store in Prosper, wants to sell handmade gifts. My mom loves to knit. We could make our own yarn, dye it …”

  “Hey, there you go. I just sell our fleeces when we shear, but I know that kind of thing is popular these days. If you got serious about that, and wanted more wool …”

  They stared at each other for a moment, thinking of the possibilities.

  “Wait.” Melinda put a hand to her forehead. “I’ve got too many ideas for this place, and there’ll never be enough days to get them all done.”

  “Welcome to country life, I guess.” John looked out over the pasture to the fields beyond, where a soft green carpet of seedlings had finally replaced the bare dirt of early spring, and shook his head with admiration.

  “This piece of land has some of the best views in the township. Horace and Wilbur’s ancestors got it right when they decided to put roots down here.” He started to laugh.

  “Melinda, do you ever get up in the morning and pinch yourself? Just look at this place! It’s amazing. And you own a farm. This farm. You did it!”

  The sun was hot on her bare forearms, a sign of the season to come. Her neighbor’s euphoric laugh was so contagious, she had to join in. “You know, I’ve been too busy to really take a step back, take it all in.”

  “Well, here’s your chance, I’d say.”

  Melinda turned around and studied the acreage from one end to the other. Her gaze took in the charming farmhouse and stately barn, the lush pasture and leafy trees, the orderly rows of the garden and the chickens waddling in their run, the peonies just starting to bloom.

  And then she was crying, ridiculously happy tears running down her face. It was hers, all of it. At last.

  John gave her a hearty round of applause, and then insisted she match his high-five.

  “No, Melinda, I’m serious,” he said when they finally started back across the yard. “What are you going to do with it all? You can do whatever you want, whenever you want. The possibilities must seem overwhelming.”

  “They are. And to answer your question, I have absolutely no idea.” They had another laugh, then John fired up his truck and turned down the lane.

  She waved goodbye while Hobo danced at her side, ready for whatever was coming next.

  “I think we’ll start with something small,” she told him. “You know, one step at a time. How about we do chores?” Hobo barked his approval. “And as for what the future holds, I can’t wait to find out.”

  What’s next

  “The Bright Season”: This series is far from over! Melinda’s second summer in Prosper promises to be quite different from her first, but still filled with caring friends and neighbors and her precious animals. And what’s going to happen with that Chase guy? I’m not entirely sure yet, but I promise to find out and let you know! Look for “The Bright Season” in late 2019. Read on for an excerpt from the book.

  Stay in touch: Be sure to sign up for the email newsletter when you visit fremontcreekpress.com. That’s the best way to find out when “The Bright Season” will be available for pre-order.

  Trap-Neuter-Return: I love all animals but cats have a special place in my heart, especially “alley cats” and “barn babies.” The program Karen and Melinda started is part of a growing movement to provide medical services to these often-overlooked animals. Want to help? Learn more about TNR and then check with your local shelter or rescue group to see if they need volunteers!

  Recipes: I’ve added a brunch casserole and my grandmother’s from-scratch chocolate cake to the collection on the website. And there’s a new format to make it easier than ever to find your favorites from all the books in the series!

  So, what did you think? If you’ve got something to say about “Songbird Season,” please hop on to Amazon.com and leave a review. Or, share your thoughts with your friends on Goodreads.

  Thanks for reading!

  Melanie

  Sneak peek: The Bright Season

  June: Rural Prosper

  Melinda was ravenously hungry, just as Angie had asked her to be. And excited to visit with a few neighbors she hadn’t seen much of lately.

  Angie had to be the busiest of them all, Melinda decided as she turned east at the crossroads and headed up the hill to the Hensleys’ farm. She had two little girls to look after, and was eight months’ pregnant with her son. And now, she was in charge of the annual women’s luncheon at their rural neighborhood’s church, an event expected to draw seventy attendees or more. Angie wanted to run several dishes by her friends before finalizing the menu.

  “How are you ever going to manage all this?” Melinda asked as she came into Angie and Nathan’s kitchen. The house smelled wonderful, thanks to the savory aromas drifting from appetizer plates and deep casserole pans as well as the sweeter notes added by a cake and two kinds of cookies.

  “Oh, you mean in my delicate condition?” Angie snorted and rubbed her lower back, then adjusted the topknot that was trying to keep her auburn curls out of her flushed face. Even with the air conditioner running, the kitchen was steaming from the wealth of food. “I’ve been on the run for days. We’ve got some late calves coming on, Nathan was up half the night. I’d give anything for a shower.”

  Mabel came back from the living room, where she’d taken her purse. “Helen is running a bit late, says for us to get started.” She handed a stack of plates to Melinda. “We don’t have much of a social season around here, but this luncheon is certainly the highlight. What’s the program this time, Angie?”

  Angie suddenly beamed as she stirred a pasta salad. “A bridal fashion show, wedding dresses through the decades. I can’t believe how many we’ve found so far. Now if we just can get enough model
s to wear them.” She looked hopefully at Melinda.

  “Oh, no.” Melinda crossed her arms. “I’ll eat whatever you put in front of me, but I’m not parading around in someone’s gown. Besides, I’m forty now, remember? Can’t you find some girls to do it?”

  “Hey!” Mabel made a face, then winked. “If you’re not a girl these days, what does that make me? I’ve got thirty-some years on you, dear.”

  “Actually, Mabel, is yours in wearable condition?” Angie set a potato casserole on the kitchen table. “We’d love the gowns to represent women from the township, not just the congregation.”

  “My dress might be, but I’m not.” Mabel sighed. “I outgrew it decades ago.”

  Melinda thought of Anna Schermann’s wedding dress, which was nearly a hundred years old. Ada took it home when the family removed their prized possessions from the farmhouse. But was it too fragile to be worn, even for just a few minutes? She would ask Ada before getting Angie’s hopes up.

  “And Melinda, I thought you may not want to model, but decided to ask,” Angie shrugged. “We’ve got a few weeks to round up some more. I do need your help with something else, though.” She passed a pitcher of citrus punch around the table. “We’ll mail postcards to all the ladies of the congregation and former members, like usual. But could you hand-deliver invites to some other women in the township? I wish I had time to do it myself.” She patted her growing stomach. “I’m thinking ten or twelve stops, if you’re up for that. Just those who live close by. It’d be more personal, that way.”

  “Absolutely.” Melinda raised her glass. “Count me in.”

  Her car was hot and stuffy inside, even though she’d cracked its windows once she got to Angie’s. Between the heat and her full stomach, Melinda was suddenly sleepy. The garden needed to be weeded again, but the first thing she wanted to do when she got home was take a nap.

  But where? Every room in her house was in turmoil. The electricians, who were on their second day of upgrading the farm’s system, would be there until at least three. While Hobo had simply decamped to the yard, the organized chaos had poor Grace and Hazel on edge. And to make things worse, the air conditioner was out of commission until the project was done.