by Lynne Norris
“I can guarantee that you would ache, be dead tired and sick at least three of the first fourteen days. After you got through that, you’d be on your way to being in the best physical condition of your life. It’s just no fun getting there.”
“If I didn’t know better I’d think you were trying to scare me off.”
“No, just telling you like it is.”
Emma waited for Grace to say something else. When it was obvious that Grace wasn’t going to Emma pointed out across the fields. “Tell me why you have the cows, pigs and chickens separated by fences out in the fields.”
“We use a multi-species rotational grazing model.”
“Come again? You need to tell me what that means in layman’s terms. You’re talking to a city girl,” Emma said laughing.
“You can’t graze one kind of animal on a pasture over and over again. They’ll graze and re-graze until they kill the roots and the plants die,” Grace replied. “We move the cows once a day.”
Emma stared out at the pasture where several of the large beasts were leisurely reclined resting in the middle of the field. “How do you move them? I mean, honestly, the ones lying down look like you’d need a crane to get them up.”
“We have a permanent fence that gives the framework of the pastures and then we use a portable fence.” Grace pointed to a post with a reel of wire hung over it. “Those are step in posts and the wire gets let out or taken up on the reel.”
“What do the cows eat?” Emma asked.
“Like grandfather used to say, all that’s green that grows on the land.”
“I thought cows just ate grass.”
“That’s a common misconception. If it’s green and leafy and they can reach it they’ll eat it. They’ll kill off their favorite plants if you leave them in the same pasture. The cows won’t graze by their own manure so you really limit the acreage they forage on unless you rotate them. We bring sheep in next because they won’t contract the cows’ parasites.”
“I had no idea there was so much to grazing animals.”
“The sheep will eat blackberry brambles, thistle and honeysuckle that grow wild in the pastures.”
“So whose turn is it after the sheep?”
“In our model it’s the chickens. Some people will use goats and chickens. We pull a mobile hen house on a tractor a couple of days behind the grazers. The hens scratch through the manure and harvest the larvae.”
“That’s gross.” Emma screwed up her face in distaste.
“To you it is, but the chickens get free protein and reduce the fly larvae population. They’re the sanitation crew and for their efforts we get a steady supply of eggs.”
“I may never eat eggs again.”
“Sure you will.”
“Where do the pigs come in?”
“Pigs prefer to root around. We keep them out by the woodlots. They’ll plow through downed trees looking for grubs. They’ll eat roots, acorns and anything else they find. They break up and clear a lot of the debris on the floor of the forest. It actually cuts down on the how much debris we have to clear out each year to decrease the risk of a fire.”
“I’m amazed how every animal has such a significant role to play.”
“That’s how my grandfather worked the farm. It’s a cycle and everything has its role to create the rich soil to grow the crops, the grass to feed the cows and develop the insect ecosystem.”
“It sounds like a lot of work to move the animals through the pastures.”
“The rotations are just part of what we do. We use portable electric fencing to hold them in a single paddock. It cuts down on the external inputs we have to buy and allows the grazed paddocks to recover and grow again.” Grace hesitated and then said, “Tell me if I’m going on too much about this stuff and I’ll stop.”
“No, no. It’s interesting. I’ve never spent any significant time on a farm except to stop at a roadside stand or buy food from a farmer’s market. I never gave much thought about the food industry until one of my sister’s boy’s was diagnosed with autism.”
“It’s easy not to when all people have to do is walk into a grocery store and put what they want into a basket and pay for it. I can tell you we’ve had people drive a hundred miles to buy our meat because they know it’s clean and we use local butchers.”
“I’m impressed. I had no idea your family did all this.”
“How are your legs holding up?”
“I could use a break from the saddle.”
“Let’s get down and walk for a while,” Grace suggested tugging on Honey’s reins to bring her to a halt. “There’s a creek up ahead where the horses can get a drink. We can give our legs a rest before we ride back down.”
“What else do you do?”
Grace laughed. “I ride this route almost every day to check on the animals and make sure there are no broken perimeter fences that need mending. Some days I spend time in the orchard inspecting the trees and pruning away dead branches. We plant spring, summer and fall and start the seeds in late winter. Right now, we’re out harvesting everyday rain or shine to get everything ready to bring to the market. In the fall we’ll move hundreds of pumpkins to get ready for Halloween and Thanksgiving.”
“You make me tired just thinking about all that.”
“There’s always something different to do,” Grace said.
The sound of water running over rocks reached Emma’s ears and the air became cooler when they passed under the branches of a pair of Maple trees. Grace let the horses go and they ambled toward the water lowering their heads to drink. Emma watched Grace pull the rifle out of the holster and carry it back with her.
“It’s beautiful out here.”
“I was hoping you’d like it.” Grace rested the rifle on the ground beside her and tucked one of her knees up close to her as she gazed out across the fields.
Emma sat down next to Grace and looked up into the canopy of the trees. Sunlight cascaded through the sun-dappled leaves. Squirrels chattered and chased each other among the branches, their claws scrabbling over the bark. “It feels like we escaped to somewhere far away. It’s so quiet and peaceful here.”
“I remember when my father brought me up here when I was old enough to ride on the tractor with him. It was our secret spot to hang out and fish. I used to sneak up here every chance I got.”
“Do you still?” Emma asked.
“When I need to be alone or work a problem out.”
Lulled by the soothing tones of the water babbling through the creek, Emma couldn’t help but allow her body to relax. She closed her eyes, drifting pleasantly close to sleeping. Birds chirped and flew back and forth between the tree limbs. Emma wasn’t sure if she dozed off, but she was suddenly aware of a change in the breeze. The wind carried with it the intoxicating sweet scent of honeysuckle.
She looked over at Grace who appeared to be dozing with both legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. Grace wore scuffed brown work boots beneath a pair of threadbare jeans and her hands were lying folded in her lap. The rise and fall of Grace’s chest was captivating. Emma had an urge to reach out and slide her hand over the soft, supple skin. She imagined what it would be like to touch those hands and feel the strength of them on her body.
Grace opened her eyes and looked directly at her. Emma flushed and looked away feeling like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Her heart pounded wildly. She thought Grace might be able to hear it. “I thought you were sleeping.”
“Just a cat nap.” Grace’s eyes twinkled and Emma had the irrational thought that Grace could read exactly what she was thinking.
Grace shifted to face Emma and asked, “What brought you back here?”
“I couldn’t afford to stay in New York after I got laid off. I was going to, but Kate told me she was leaving and moving to Florida.”
“Who’s Kate?”
“My ex.” Emma said her eyes fixed on the green clover growing mixed in among the blades of grass. Never befo
re had a trefoil with its dense spikes of white flowers been so interesting.
“Were you together long?”
“Nine years,” Emma replied, her heart sinking and her eyes filling with tears. “Shit.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I can’t help it. I cry when I’m happy. I cry when I’m sad and I cry when I’m pissed.”
“I’m a pretty good listener if you want to talk about it.”
“Oh my God,” Emma groaned wiping away tears. “I didn’t come out to here to dump my sad story on you.”
“It’s okay. I don’t mind.”
“I just keep going over everything in my head.”
Grace reached across and squeezed Emma’s hand. “It might help. I promise I won’t tell anyone. Honey and Bella are pretty good at keeping secrets too.”
Laughing now, Emma wiped her eyes with her other hand and took a steadying breath.
“When I look back on what happened I think we both checked out a long time ago. I worked long hours and Kate bar-tended. Our schedules were crazy. My job didn’t leave me with much free time.” Emma didn’t smile, her gaze distant. She felt disturbed acknowledging what she just had said. “I wondered if Kate just got tired of being alone.”
“Were you doing the same kind of work when you met her?”
Emma nodded and swallowed the lump in her throat. “I had just started at the firm. Back then I was working six, sometimes seven days a week.”
“That sounds more like a jail sentence than work.”
“Isn’t that what you do though?” Emma asked.
Grace rocked her head back and forth. “There are few days off, but it’s different. I’m outside almost every day—all day. We’re planting, harvesting, doing maintenance or tending to the animals. The farmer’s markets are social events. In the winter, we take three weeks off and completely close down.”
“As a woman it was the only way I could get ahead in a brokerage of that size. We always had to work harder, faster and God forbid don’t screw up because everyone in the office would know if you did.”
“Seems to me Kate knew what the score was going in,” Grace said.
“I guess. I think she expected that the hours wouldn’t always be so demanding,” Emma said.
“Maybe, but she benefitted from your work, didn’t she?”
“Yeah, we took trips but—”
“But what? It wasn’t enough?” Grace asked.
“No, that was only once or twice a year.”
“Only,” Grace scoffed. “That’s more than what most people I know are able to afford these days or did she not read the newspapers or look online at the stories to see how lucky she was to have that lifestyle?”
“I don’t know.” Thrown back to her days as a child when life was easy and carefree, Emma twirled grass blades between her fingers pretending they were helicopter blades. “I think it’s easier for people, including myself, not to look at what’s going on around us.”
“Denial is a powerful drug,” Grace said.
Emma laughed in spite of herself. “Indeed.”
“She cheated on you, didn’t she?”
Emma’s head snapped up. “What?”
“Kate, she cheated on you.”
Emma felt Grace studying her and when she glanced her way those blue eyes revealed nothing of what lay in the depths behind them. “How do you know she cheated on me?”
“Because I’m looking at you and you’re wearing the hurt on your sleeve. Am I wrong?”
“No. I had to pull it out of her, but Kate finally admitted she met this woman six months before she left for Florida.” Emma was silent for a moment. “It’s not all her fault you know.”
“Every relationship has its problems, but if someone breaks that trust it almost doesn’t matter whose fault it is.”
Emma stared down at her hands and dropped the blades of grass she was playing with. “Kate told me she was leaving the day I got laid off.”
“Wow, way to kick somebody when they’re already down on their luck. What did you do?” asked Grace.
“I went into survival mode. I sold all my stuff. Looked for a cheaper apartment and finally decided to move into my dad’s old lake house. The end.”
“Oh I doubt that.”
“Why?”
“You’re a survivor. You already said you were.”
“I still manage to crawl into some pretty dark places in my mind.”
“You seem to be handling what happened pretty well.”
Emma gave a self-depreciating laugh. “I’m glad you think so.”
Grace nudged Emma with her shoulder. “Well if the worst you’ve done is fall into the bottom of a bottle of wine that’s handling your losses pretty well in my book.”
“Thanks,” Emma said, wondering how it was that Grace seemed to be able to get her to talk about herself and yet Emma knew practically nothing about her. Curious, she asked, “What about you? What’s your story?”
Grace’s jaw twitched and her shoulders stiffened. “Does there have to be a story?”
“No, there doesn’t have to be.” From the cool tone in Grace’s voice, Emma knew she had touched upon a sore subject. “I’m sorry. It’s none of my business,” she said, but the rebuff stung.
“What made you think there was a story?” Grace asked.
“Life is messy. At this stage of it we all have our stories,” Emma said watching a cloud of emotion fill Grace’s eyes.
Grace stood, carried the rifle over to Honey and secured it into the holster. “There’s nothing much to tell. Coaching and recruiting new soccer talent at the high school level took up most of my time.”
“No one special?” Emma asked.
“Not in a long time,” Grace said quietly.
Emma studied her face now, frowning. “Listen, I didn’t mean to pry. I just was curious to know something about you.”
Grace ran her hands absently over Honey’s neck in a soothing motion. She paused then said, “You do know something about me. I come up here to think and work my problems out. I don’t think my family even realizes I still come up here to do that anymore.”
Emma looked away self-consciously. She took in the lush green vegetation and the surface of the pond reflecting the blue sky and clouds overhead. Grace’s admission was unexpected. There was more to what Grace was telling her, Emma felt that for sure. Today wasn’t going to be the day to find out.
Out of sorts and feeling a sense of disquiet, Emma stood and said, “Thanks for sharing this place with me. It’s really beautiful.”
Grace blinked, seeming to come back from wherever she was in her mind. She brushed the dirt from the seat of her pants. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
Emma walked over to Bella. She ran her hands over the horse’s muscular shoulders and patted her broad neck. “Thanks for letting me ride you today and not tossing me onto my ass.”
Grace laughed and gathered Bella’s reins. “Next time I’ll teach you how to ride her while she’s trotting.”
“Next time?” Emma asked.
“Why not? You can’t just have one riding lesson. Besides you’re still going to come on Sunday aren’t you?” Grace asked.
“Is the invitation still open?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?” Grace’s brow furrowed and she stuck her hands into her pockets.
Emma stood on her tippy toes and spoke into one of Honey’s ears. “Tell your Mom I don’t think I’m ready to learn how to trot just yet.”
Grace climbed up into the saddle. “We’ll see about that. You might be surprised at what you can do with a little practice.”
Chapter Nine
EMMA DROVE TOWARD home beneath a canopy of Maples. Across the landscape the leaves were beginning to fade from a vibrant green of summer to shades of yellow. It made her sad to think that summer was coming to a close and fall was right around the corner. Autumn portended winter and for Emma the long nights and short days left her feeling melancholy.
&n
bsp; Ten minutes later, when she pulled into her driveway, Emma saw a white Audi parked in front of her.
Irritation pricked at her as she shoved the door open. “Who in the heck is here? Oh it better not be that damn realtor. I’ll kick her sorry butt.” Emma stepped out of her car her eyes searching until she saw her sister, Lindsey, walk around the corner of the house.
“Oh my God! What are you doing here?” Emma exclaimed throwing her arms around her in a fierce hug.
“Visiting you. You never called back and I got worried. You sounded depressed the last time I talked to you,” Lindsey said returning the embrace. She wrinkled her nose when she pulled away. “Where have you been? You smell like...horses.”
“I was horseback riding this morning.”
Lindsey placed a hand to Emma’s forehead. “Okay. No fever. What gives? My sister does not ride horses. What have you done with her?”
“Hey.” Emma pushed Lindsey’s hand away. “Knock it off! I decided to learn something new.” Emma walked past her and unlocked the door, realizing as she did that she was looking forward to another riding lesson with Grace. “Do you want coffee?”
“If you’re offering sure. Whoa!” Lindsey stopped in the living room and gawked at the holes in the wall. “Holy crap! You weren’t kidding.”
“What would make you think I was? My lovely tenants left me quite a welcome home present.”
“Oh my,” Lindsey said with her hand fluttering over her chest in that “oh you poor thing” kind of a way.
“You should have seen this place. It took me weeks to get it clean.”
“The insurance would have paid for it. Why didn’t you just hire somebody to do all the work?” Lindsey’s phone pinged and she pulled it from her bag to check it. Her fingers quickly typed a response to whoever sent her a text and she tucked the phone back away.
“This is where you’re going to think I’m an ass.” Emma walked into the kitchen, opened a cabinet and retrieved two mugs.
“No I won’t.”
Emma turned and faced Lindsey her cheeks flaming. “I forgot to pay the damn home owner’s insurance.”
“You did not.” Lindsey’s eyes popped open wide. “You never forget things like that.”