“Did you ever go to camp?” Kat asked, probably after much consideration for a seven year old, the straw still resting on her lower lip.
I looked Kitty over. She was not acting like the wild monkey she usually imitated. I pulled a chair from the table to sit down next to her.
“Sure I did, Kitty.”
“What was it like?”
I realized Kat was afraid. “It was lots of fun!” I said, putting my arm around her. “I still look back at camp as one of the most fun times of summer. Ever. We’d sing songs, make crafts, go swimming….”
She looked up at me with her dark brown eyes, full of trust, and smiled. At that instant, I felt a deeper level of love for my sister.
“You’re going to have a great day!” I said, giving her an extra hard hug. Then I did what any other big sister would do: I tipped her chair far over on its side until she fell off onto the floor.
“Ow! Knock it off.” She got up, rubbing her rear end. Then her expression turned from fake pain to attack. “You’re going to be sorry for that.” She took the stance of a boxer, ready for a fight.
“Not if I get you first!” Like a wannabe ninja, I grabbed and pinned her down on the floor. Sitting on her middle, I tickled her armpits until she cried for mercy.
Somehow, the ten minutes it should take for a youngster to get dressed turned into twenty-five. Growing more frustrated by the second, I ordered her to wait in the car so she couldn’t find any more ways to waste time while I threw a sack lunch together. If I hurried, I could still get her there on time.
Sliding into the driver’s seat, I came face to face with the locket Alex gave me on the night I left Topeka. I hadn’t known what to do with it at the time, so I hung it around the rearview mirror. It’d been there, forgotten, ever since. Seeing it this morning, I didn’t experience the feelings that Alex was probably hoping for. Instead, it reminded me of the day he broke my heart. I should have thrown it out the window on the drive out here.
“That’s Alex’s locket,” Kat stated, like I needed reminding.
“Umm.” More painful memories reran through my mind. I unhooked the necklace from the mirror and tossed it in the glove box.
“Don’t you think it’s pretty?”
“Yes.”
“Why don’t you wear it?” she asked, obviously not understanding what it represented.
“Mmmm.” I didn’t want to start a graphic name-calling session. “I don’t know.”
“Can I have it?”
“I don’t think so.”
Reaching for the volume, I pretended to like the song playing on the radio and turned it up. While Kat sang along to the radio for the duration of the drive, I replayed the dreadful night Alex dumped me off at my house. Apparently he didn’t notice that my heart got caught in the door of his big black Jeep and was dragged through the streets of town, bouncing unmercifully on the pavement until there was nothing left but shreds.
Alex had been my Prince Charming, a knight in shining armor. Now, he was simply the moldy cherry on a melted hot fudge sundae.
Check-in for camp went without a hitch. Within minutes, I was headed back for the house as fast as I could. It seemed strange rushing towards the destination that only last week I viewed as my demise. Well, it wasn’t the house I rushed to. It was Sam.
Before heading to the farm, I brushed my hair one more time just to make sure there weren’t any tangles, then shoved a hair tie in my pocket for later when it became too hot outside. When I finally looked in the mirror, the reflection staring back at me didn’t seem to be dressed appropriately for farming. Denim shorts, layered cream and blue camis, with blue on the top, to show less dirt.
It would have to do.
Just as I was closing the door behind me, the phone rang. It continued ringing for too long…the answering machine part must be off. Making a dash, I answered with a heavy hello to a dial tone.
“Man, I hate that,” I hissed.
The Caller ID came up “Alex Hibbs.”
Just as well, I thought, setting the phone back in its charger. There could never be a second chance for him now...now that I found Sam.
Chapter Fifteen
SAM
AS GITTY AS A GIRL CAN GET, I set off out across the lawn in search of the trio of poplar trees. By the time I passed them, my breathing had already turned rapid, but not from exhaustion. I felt energized, and my skin prickled despite the hot temperature.
Reaching the tree that read, “This way to Sam’s,” I examined it more carefully, trying to determine if the carving might be old. Although the exposed wood looked dry, there was a single bark curl still attached to one of the letters. I concluded this meant the letters were fresh. At least that’s what I hoped for.
Ready to continue on, I slipped my shoes off to wade in the clear, shallow waters. The cold water felt good flowing past my feet and helped to keep me cool. Even though it was still relatively early, the air already felt hot. The last thing I wanted was to show up at Sam’s all sweaty first thing in the morning. Like that would be attractive.
Making my way up stream, I expected a repeat of fabulous colors along the water bank. Instead, only a few flowers were in bloom compared to when Sam had walked me home. I scanned the terrain for the red pawpaw flower Sam had given me. No sign of them either.
Did I only dream about them last night? No, because I distinctly remember being impressed with all his knowledge.
Feeling the hot sun against my own skin, I reasoned the flowers must have a short life, due to the intense heat.
Finally reaching the rock crossing, I smiled, thinking of Jedd. Peering into the small hole underneath the tree, I called out the badger’s name, “Jedd—”
I tried to imitate the animal sounds Sam had made, but my sound sounded like me kissing the air.
“You’ll never call him out like that,” a deep, gentle voice said behind me.
Embarrassed, I spun around to see Sam standing on the other side of the creek. A huge smile erupted across my face.
“Are you stalking me?” I joked.
“You shouldn’t ask that question with a smile. It might lead people to the wrong conclusion,” Sam retorted. “Actually, you are very loud. I heard you a mile away.” He hopped from one rock to the next, coming closer. Butterflies tickled my stomach just seeing him. He knelt down next to the den and summoned Jedd.
Once again, I peered into the black hole. Two little shiny eyes emerged from the darkness, but hesitated within the confines of its den. The eyes blinked twice before disappearing.
We both laughed.
“I reckon he’s had his fill of you,” Sam chuckled, standing back up with his back against the sun. The sun shone so bright, it appeared to shine right through him, causing me to squint. “We should get to work before the sun gets any higher. Are you ready?” Sam asked, apparently eager to put me to work.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I replied, wondering what I was getting myself into.
As we crossed the prairie field, I was surprised to see that he had already tilled a small area of land into long rows, revealing dark, rich soil. A workbench displayed a large assortment of seeds. Lying beside the bench were rope, spades, thin wooden dowels, and other items I guessed necessary for planting vegetables.
“What do you usually plant?” I asked as I examined the packages of seeds lying on the bench.
“My parents were wheat farmers, but this land hasn’t been sown for quite some time now.” Sam said as he took a stance next to me.
His answer made me think that his parents were no longer living here. “So are you alone?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied.
“Where are your parents now?” Sensing the question made him uncomfortable. I offered a weak apology, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”
“No, that’s okay. They’re dead.”
“Both of them?” I wished I could take back my question.
Sam wedged his tongue in between his front teeth and u
pper lip like he was retrieving a stuck piece of food. He seemed to be thinking. “It’s been a long time,” he finally said. “But I still miss them.”
I thought of many questions, but asked none.
With a deep sigh, Sam’s expression recovered and he took a step closer to the bench. “How do you like the variety?” His thick hand brushed over the tops of the seed packages.
“I like it very much.” I looked up at Sam and he seemed pleased by my response. Unfortunately, I couldn’t keep the smile going.
“What’s wrong?” Sam asked.
How could I tell him that I was already worried? I looked at all the packages, then at the size of the newly formed garden. The novelty of gardening was already wearing out. “This is going to be a lot of work,” I groaned.
Sam covered his face with his hands as he tipped his head back towards the cloudless sky. “City girls!” He raked his hands through his thick hair. “I’m up at the crack of dawn breaking dirt while you’re fast asleep, probably snoring—”
“I don’t snore!”
“Probably snoring…” His eyes twinkled at me. “Just so you wouldn’t get here and complain.”
I went to give him a whack on the arm, but must have misjudged our distance. My hand whizzed past the point of intended impact. He looked a bit shocked.
Hoping he didn’t think I was some violent lunatic and regretted inviting me here today, I decided to not acknowledge his reaction. Picking up the package containing peas, I waved them in the air. “Shall we start with these?”
Planting seeds proved to be easier than I anticipated. Plus it really helped working with someone like Sam.
In between nesting the seeds in dirt, I imagined what it would be like to kiss him. I tried to pretend I hadn’t seen the locket that Alex gave me because it reminded me too vividly of how painful love could be.
But Sam seemed different.
“If you’re lucky,” he said, striking up a conversation, “you might find an arrowhead. I remember finding a few when I was a little kid.”
“Here, in the dirt?” I knew that the Potawatomi Indian Reservation was located north of here, but hadn’t given much thought to the fact that Native Americans actually once occupied the land. This land, right here, where I was sitting. “I think it’s cool how many Kansas counties, towns and cities are named after Native American tribes.” I think I said that just to make myself feel better for forgetting about them in the first palace.
Sam nodded in agreement. “Except that most names aren’t tribes.”
“Oh?”
“Take the city of Olathe for example. That word best describes you in the native Shawnee language.”
“Me?”
Without answering my question, Sam returned to work. So did I.
As I watched Sam work, I wondered what happened to his parents. It definitely had to be a tragedy. How else would such a young person not have living parents? It was obvious, however, that Sam didn’t want to discuss the matter. Maybe that’s why he worked so hard, as a diversion. I continued to watch his large muscular frame, hunched over, with his knees firmly planted in the dirt; my heart felt a twinge of pain as I imagined the emptiness he must be experiencing. Suddenly, the spray and scatter of incoming dirt redirected my thoughts to a happier time, the present.
“You’ve become awfully quiet over there, Miss Emily.”
I hadn’t realized that I had stopped working, only to be caught ogling at the incredible work of art on the other side of the garden.
“This is labor-intensive work! I don’t know how you do it.” I took the last sip of water from my bottle.
“Are you whining again, city girl?”
“Not at all. I’m trying to tell you that I’m developing a keen appreciation for farmers.”
Sam arched his back and smiled. “You do fine work yourself.”
By now, the sun hung high in the sky and it was miserably hot. The dirt on his shirt had turned into mud and the white cotton material stuck to his damp skin. I wondered if I looked as hot as he did. Pun intended.
What was wrong with me—are all single girls this boy crazy? What about Sam? Did I even stand a chance of being attractive to him? How old was he, anyway? What would I tell my parents? Would they ever begin to approve? What if they forbade me to see him?
Wiping the sweat from his forehead with his arm, Sam strolled over towards me.
“I think I heard a coyote last night,” I said.
“I bet you don’t hear that in the city.”
“It sounded so close! Will they ever come into the yard?”
“That’s what I was trying to tell you yesterday. They are close!”
I tensed with fear. I’d never seen a coyote before, but always imagined them to be fairly lethal.
“Don’t worry yourself too much, little lady.” Sam looked down at me. His deep brown eyes made me want to throw my arms around him. “You’ve already appointed me to keep you safe and I intend to honor that agreement.” Like a mighty warrior, Sam thumped his fist against his wide chest. “Besides, those varmints are more interested in eating rabbits than you.”
“It is difficult being a city girl in the midst of the country, you know.” I gave him my best pout.
“Well, this ol’ country boy thinks this here city girl just might make it if she’s careful.”
“Really?”
Ignoring my rhetorical question, Sam asked, “Are you thirsty?”
“Parched!” I said, holding up my empty water bottle. The feel of sweat rolled down my back and I hoped to God I put on enough deodorant.
“Follow me,” he said, leading me past the house and around the corner. Much to my surprise, an eighteen-foot windmill sat behind the classic Ford truck. I faltered a bit, not recollecting the windmill being there yesterday. We had walked all around the house and field, and I couldn’t recall seeing a windmill being anywhere.
“Take this ladle.” Sam handed me an old tin cup welded to a long handle. Dismissing my incongruent memories, I watched Sam clench the metal pump lever and pull back. Instantly, the blades of the windmill twirled in the wind. The pump gurgled and with a belching whoosh, ice-cold water gushed out from the spout, splashing up freezing mud all over me.
Slapping his knee, Sam laughed so hard I thought he was going to fall over. Fuming, I grabbed a metal bucket that hung near the spigot.
“You dare to laugh at me?” I asked, filling the bucket with more freezing cold water. Taking aim at the still laughing tall target, I launched the water with deadly precision.
“What the?” I uttered in disbelief. I couldn’t believe it. The water missed him.
He just smirked all the more and filled his own tin bucket.
“Don’t you dare.” I shook a pointed finger at him.
Holding the full bucket, Sam cocked back his arms. Like something out of a Tom and Jerry cartoon, Sam let the water fly.
“Nooo!” I shrieked as I struggled to keep from slipping in the mud, dropping my pail in the process.
“Missed me,” I taunted, scrambling to my feet to take cover on the other side of the house. When it didn’t seem like he was going to follow me, I waited another few seconds, just to be sure, and finally peered around the corner. Seeing no one, I stepped out to face the open end of a garden hose. Three seconds later, I was drenched.
“Gotcha,” he said.
As quick as it began, the water war was over and I suffered heavy casualties. I stood there, trying to be brave, as the water from my wet hair and clothes ran down my legs. The well water was painfully cold and despite the hot air, I began to shiver. As the remaining drips fell to the ground, I wasn’t sure which, but I either looked like a drowned rat, or a contestant in a wet t-shirt contest. By the way his laughter exploded, I figured it was the first.
“Sss…S… Ssaaamm, I nneed to knnow your llllast nananame so I cccan yell at yyyou pppropperlllly!”
Somehow, my chattering only increased my outrageous state and he responded with greater
intensity.
Letting out a girly growl, I charged straight at him. Expecting a hard impact against his tall frame, I prepared myself.
Landing in a pile of dried straw was the last thing I expected. Rolling over onto my backside, I held up two fists of the yellow stuff. “Where did this come from?”
“Ah, I picked it up late yesterday,” Sam explained without missing a beat. “I’m making plans for a few chickens and I’ll need it for nests.”
I dropped the straw and pressed my fingers into my forehead and temples. I was starting to think I was losing my mind. All day long, things were not as I expected. Flowers went missing while windmills and straw stacks popped out of thin air. I couldn’t even seem to focus accurately because I missed whacking Sam twice. Totally confused, I let my head drop to rest my on my knees. “I think the heat is getting to me. Maybe I need to take a break.”
A much quieter Sam disengaged the windmill, but not before filling the water pail. He came back over and took my hand.
Suddenly, I tasted something weird. I needed to spit. I began fishing for foreign objects.
“What’s wrong? Did you manage to eat the straw as well?” he asked, picking it out of my hair.
“It doesn’t taste like straw. I’m not sure what I got into.” I licked my lips, trying to wipe off the smoky residue that had settled on my tongue. It reminded me of men’s cologne, but I had no intention of telling him that.
“Sit down here.” Sam gestured to a very large rock. I climbed up on the boulder and pulled my knees tightly against my chest. “Take a drink of water.” He held out the bucket.
Despite being wet on the outside, my throat was dry. Maybe I’d become dehydrated or something. I appreciated the offer and took the cup eagerly. As I took the sip, he climbed up next to me.
“Did that help?”
I nodded. Besides peculiar, I didn’t really mind the taste, it was rather sweet.
Between the sun and the heat radiating off the rock’s surface, I was warming up nicely. A bit more relaxed, I closed my eyes and tipped my chin to the blue skies.
“Are you mad?” Sam’s gentle voice inquired.
A Kiss for Emily (Emily Stokes Series) Page 8