by Christine
“Still ornery as ever.” He carried the boxes back the way he had come.
Jerry called after him. “I can’t imagine where he gets it.” Then she leaned over to Paige. “You know, that Sterling was the toast of the entire town. He was captain of the football team and the basketball team. After that little tussle with Darryl, he was even named captain of the baseball team. Triple threat is what he called it, and then he was gone. Without a word.”
“Really?” Paige remembered the glowing name on the ceiling in Linda’s room and wondered what his sister had to do with Sterling’s apparent rival. As they walked back to the register at the front of the store to pay for her purchases, Paige ran back and got the daffodil powder. If nothing else, it would be a pretty color.
The total was far less than she expected. Paige did some mental math and came up to twice the amount Jerry told her. “I think you haven’t charged me enough.”
“Well, I gave you half off on the condition you get Sterling to the Pit Friday night. Most of the town is planning on it. Deal?” She put out her hand.
“I’ll try my best.” Paige shook on it and reached in her purse. Sterling had insisted they take out some cash before leaving Vancouver, so they couldn’t be traced with a credit card. Paige would be happy when the next three days were over, and they could go back to their normal lives.
On the ride home Paige turned to Sterling’s dad. “I’ll never doubt you again.”
He laughed in response. “At least not when it comes to soap. Sterling’s mom loved making it. She wasn’t very good at it, but she loved it just the same.”
Paige gave him a confused look.
“I’m not disrespecting her or anything. See, my Cynthia was a city girl. We fell in love at the rodeo, and I took her home to the farm. She’d never cooked or cleaned in her life before then, but she took to it like a pig to a mud hole, happy as a clam to try every recipe known to man.”
“So you ate well?” Paige asked.
“Not most days. Did you see the pantry behind the kitchen?” he asked. “One year she got into this dill green bean recipe that makes me want to toss my cookies when I think on it. Waste not want not, they say, so I keep ‘em. But, you can bet dollars to donuts they’ll be there till kingdom come.” They pulled into the driveway and came to a stop, but Mr. Keller didn’t turn off the engine.
“You must miss her,” Paige said in the silence.
He nodded. “Yeah, I do, but what I really miss most is how she understood Sterling. She always told me that I only had to give him time, and he’d see the right way. Just give him time.” The last words seemed for her.
ANXIOUS TO GET HOME, Sterling floored the gas as he turned off Highway 22. Seconds later a siren whistled through the air. He cursed under his breath while pulling over. If it was Misty, he might be able to talk himself out of a ticket. In his rearview mirror he watched an officer with a grey butch-cut march toward him. His nose looked like it had been broken a dozen time. This must be the new sheriff Misty had mentioned. Sterling lowered his head and tried to look contrite.
The sheriff rocked back and forth on his heels. “Any idea what you were doin’ there? Just ‘cuz you think you’re a hot shot doesn’t mean you own the road, boy. I’m sure you know the drill, license and registration, now.”
He sounded more like a boot camp drill sergeant than a sheriff. Sterling handed him his information and then realized exactly who he sounded like. “Coach Newell?”
“I’ll be a monkey’s uncle. Sterling Keller. Always knew you’d make it big.” He ran his hand down the side of the car. “I heard you were in town.”
“Yeah, sorry about the speeding thing.” Sterling squinted.
“Don’t mention it.” Coach chucked the license back at him. “You can come home as fast as you want anytime you like. It was garbage how you got booted out in the first place. If it wasn’t for that stupid brother-in-law of yours, we would have been the ultimate triple threat that year.”
Sterling bobbed his head but really didn’t want to talk about it. It was history, and he didn’t have to think about the past anymore. What he wanted to do was get back to Paige and tell her not to worry. If Dotty was telling the truth, when Monday came, he should be able to iron everything out, and if he played his cards right, he could have his cake and eat it, too.
“Ya’ know, you weren’t the best athlete between the two of you.” The coach looked off into the distance as though looking back through the years. “But, you were a winner.”
“Wait.” Sterling’s brows lowered. “What do you mean?”
“Oh, Darryl was a natural talent, but, you, you wouldn’t let anything get in your way once you knew what you wanted.” He punched Sterling in the arm. “Remember when you tackled the other team’s center in basketball? Twisted up his knee so bad he was out for the rest of the season? Totally worth the technical foul. We won. That’s what I’m talkin’ about. You’d do anything to get what you wanted.”
Sterling’s arm ached where Coach Newell had punched it. Still, his conscience hurt worse. “That was not one of my better moments.”
“Nah, Darryl was soft. That’s why he lost the dairy. He worked his butt off but hired a couple of milkers who stiffed him. Let it go on too long, worried about their families, he’d say. Then when his distributor contaminated that truckload of milk, it was too much to recover from. You’d have sued and come out better for it, but he said he knew the bastard and couldn’t do it.” Newell shook his head in disgust. “Yup, lost the dairy because he was a wussy.”
“Sounds to me like a run of bad luck,” Sterling said, thinking of his 401K. If he had known, he could have carried them through.
“Don’t you remember what I taught you? We make our own luck. Look at you. It’s what made you a winner.” The sheriff was beaming. “Hey, I still got keys to the high school gym. What do you say we get together tomorrow afternoon and shoot some hoops? I’ve got some moves left, ya’ know.”
“I’m a little busy.” Sterling started up his engine again. In high school, Coach Newell had been his role model. He’d swallowed every word he said as if it were gospel truth. Seeing him now, Sterling wondered if the years had been hard on him.
The coach lifted one eyebrow. “Heard about that cute young filly you brought home. If Misty says she’s a looker, you know she’s a knock out. Now you better be at the Pit Friday, or I will arrest you myself.” He put his hand to his gun.
Sterling raised one hand in the air. “I’ll be there, I swear.” Then he had an idea. “Hey, Coach, do you mind if I borrow those keys?”
“Sure thing.” He chucked them through the window. Sterling barely caught them. “Bring them back to Mike’s Drug at three tomorrow. All the fellas are gonna wanna see you again. Planning on a little hanky-panky behind the bleachers?”
“Something like that.” He pocketed the gym keys and slid the car into gear. “Tomorrow it is.” Sterling peeled out onto the highway, not caring how fast he went. It was time to get home and do what he came here to do.
Chapter Thirty-Four
PAIGE SPENT THE AFTERNOON in her element. Between the things she bought from Jerry’s and what was in the kitchen cupboards, she was set. The Kellers even had an entire closet filled with quilts for insulating the baked bars. Sterling’s mom had used wooden crates from the barn as molds and had sliced the large flats into bars with a wire tool. Paige figured she could quadruple her production in the same amount of time with the new shape and procedure.
While she baked, Austin poked in and out, telling her about the innovations he had made in tracking the goats and how he had used bailing twine to give them makeshift collars. He squinted his eyes as he said, “Don’t be mad, but I micro-dotted the twine.” He bit his lip and waited.
“That’s fine.” If she hadn’t prohibited him from doing that in the first place, it could have saved her a boatload of grief. “Is Sterling helping you?”
“He said he was busy. That’s why I’m not working on t
he milking station. I’ve got the design down but need a mechanical engineer to do the labor.”
“Sterling’s busy doing what?”
“I think he’s sulking.” Austin headed to the back door. “He took off this morning with the truck.”
Paige supposed he found out how his dad had got her the supplies and wasn’t happy about it. Did he expect her to sit around all day thanking him or maybe another trip to Make-out Meadow? She gritted her teeth as she poured her third batch in the mold. “We’ll need to milk the goats in the next hour. Could you start sterilizing those jars, so we can use them?”
Austin balked. “I’m almost done with this next subroutine. Can you give me another ten minutes, boss?”
“I’ll cover it.” Sterling stood at the back door, wearing his city clothes.
She looked out the window and saw the Lexus in the driveway. So he went back to Portland. He hadn’t spoken to her all day, and he never did apologize. She thought back to their time together in make-out meadow. He never did promise her anything. Is there a single phrase in the English language more noncommittal than, "I want us to be together?” That’s what he'd said. No time commitment, not even a definite meaning. She couldn’t read more into this relationship than was really there.
While he filled the sink with soapy water, she stuck the thermometer in the cooking pot one more time before combining the lye mixture with the oil, which turned golden. As she folded the two liquids together, Sterling walked up behind her.
“None of the soaps I worked with were that color. Did you do something wrong?”
“No, it’s a new recipe I’m trying.” Paige continued to stir, waiting for the chemical reaction called trace that would cause the soap to thicken like pudding. “It’s made with a little mint from the herb garden out back and daffodil powder.”
He chuckled and returned to the sink.
She wanted to ask him what that was about, but the soap was ready to be poured in the waiting wooden crate and wrapped in a quilt until the next day.
As she tipped the pan, Sterling’s dad let the screen door bang behind him. He had a shotgun in his hand. “Quick, Sterling, Austin, we’ve got to go help Jack Wilkes down the road. Two calves have been killed on his property. We think it’s a big cat. Move ‘em on out!”
Austin quickly saved what he was doing, shut his computer lid and leapt to his feet. Sterling draped an arm across her shoulder. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He touched his lips to hers and darted out the door.
Alone in the kitchen, Paige couldn’t believe that one small kiss could take her from frustrated to flustered so quickly. She ran a hand across her mouth. Okay, she could admit she was attracted to him, but could she really trust him? For all she knew, he’d spent the afternoon with Elaine.
AFTER CLEANING UP, eating supper alone and milking the goats single handedly, Paige began to worry about the men. She decided to make one more batch of soap to take her mind off of it. She had never had the ability to do more than two sets of 24 in Vancouver because that was all the tins she had. With the apple crates stacked to the ceiling, the only thing holding her back now was the amount of milk she had. It was freeing to see the last drip get used. With her buck, King, now returned, she could breed him with some Nubians and be able to expand much faster than she had previously hoped. Sterling’s suggestion to streamline came to mind, and she looked forward to using the wire cutter to slice the bars instead of using the mold. The only other problem she hadn’t tackled was how to wrap the finished product, but she was so tired by the time she finished the next batch, she decided that was a mountain she’d climb another day.
Her gaze flit to the clock. It was after midnight, and the men weren’t home yet. She hoped they were alright. She reached for the last quilt. It was green with small yellow flowers like the one on her bed back home. She smiled as she folded it across her second crate of daffodil soap. Though uncertain if the ancient Japanese claims were true about its healing properties, the soap seemed to glow with sunshine and had a mellow, pleasant scent that comforted her.
A high-pitched squeal echoed in the distance. At first Paige thought it must be a trucker applying worn brakes on the highway, but as the sound grew, so did her concern. From the house she could hear the goats becoming restless. A shadow raced across the yard and then another. It looked like coyotes.
Paige knew what to do. Usually, it didn’t take much to scare them away. A flashlight or clapping pans together was enough. She'd been through most of the cupboards and drawers in the kitchen and hadn’t come across any flashlights, but she had plenty of pans—all dirty, but they’d work. Grabbing two large aluminum bread bowls, she ran from the house screaming at the top of her lungs and thwacking the bottoms together with a clang that would put the cymbals of an orchestra to shame. By the time she got to the barn, she saw three fleeing, doglike shadows. King was prancing around the outside of the clustered nannies, pawing at the ground and rearing.
“It’s okay, boy,” she said breathlessly.
From behind her a gunshot rang out, and a man’s voice yelled, “Get outta here, ya filthy varmints!”
Paige was bathed in relief.
Mr. Keller rounded the corner with a rifle at his hip and Sterling at his side, also with a shotgun. His dad headed for the outside of the barn, checking the perimeter, while Sterling hurried to her side. “Are the goats alright?”
“I think so,” Paige said. “What took you so long?”
“We were following their tracks, and they circled back.” Another shot rang out from behind. “I better back up Dad.” Sterling rushed outside, and Paige decided to count the goats, just to make sure. Though her herd was less than thirty, with how much they were moving, it was impossible for her to number them. She felt badly for laughing at Austin earlier. If she could have separated them into smaller groups, she might have done it, but there was only one gated area in the barn itself, and with the coyotes still out, she couldn’t put them in the field. She stood and ran her fingers through her hair, trying to figure it out. She couldn’t see Petunia, but the goats were clustered so tightly, she could be in the middle of the herd.
“One’s across the highway,” another voice called from near the house. Austin’s computer screen looked like a bouncing light as he ran toward her, his laptop in the crux of his arm.
“I didn’t see Petunia in the barn.” Paige remembered how Austin had put microdots on the goats’ collars and ran to his side. Instead of little boxes in a table, goat icons flashed against a GPS satellite readout of the area. Paige knew the goat's location right away.
She hadn’t noticed Sterling come up behind her and jumped when she heard his voice. “Don’t worry. I’ll get her.”
A yapping howl sounded from the direction of the highway. All fear fled as Paige thought of her favorite nanny who was due to kid at any time. “I’m going with you.”
Austin tapped his screen with his fingernail. “She hasn’t moved for a while. You better hurry.”
Paige sprinted forward, racing across the dark highway to the gate. Sterling started working the lock, but Paige climbed over the fence and kept running. She could hear the coyotes yapping in front of her right where she supposed Petunia to be. What if she had come out here to have her baby, and the coyotes found her? “Petunia, I’m coming,” Paige screamed. “Hold on.”
The path was steep, and she tripped in the gloom, falling hard. Sterling bent to help her, but she pushed him forward. “Go. Save her.”
He lunged on, and she was soon at his heels as they entered the darkened meadow. The pack of predators was huddled by the log where she and Sterling had sat together two days ago. She tried to sift shadow from animal and noticed a tall one with matted black fur. “Those aren’t coyotes.”
“It’s a pack of feral dogs.” Sterling aimed and fired just above them. They yelped but wouldn’t leave their prey. Paige couldn’t wait a second longer. She bolted out in front of him, screaming, “Get away from her. Get away.” As
she drew closer, she could see that one had its jaws around Petunia’s nose. She raced over and kicked its side. The yellow mongrel snapped at her, and her reflexes made her lurch back. The dog bared foaming teeth, ready to pounce. In that moment another shot rang out, and the predator fell over dead while the others scattered.
Petunia was still on her feet. She didn’t make a sound and was trembling. Paige knelt by her and ran a hand along her side. She could feel her tighten and release. “She’s in labor.” She checked each leg. Her right front was covered in hot sticky blood. Her nose was torn, and each breath brought a whistling sound. “Come on, mama. We’ll help you.”
Sterling was beside her. “Tell me what you need me to do.”
“Wait with me. There’s nothing much else we can do right now.” She smoothed her hand down the goat’s neck, whispering to her and hoping she wouldn’t feel alone.
Sterling watched on, his gun across his lap.
It didn’t take long for the newborn’s first two legs to emerge. Normally, Paige didn’t assist with deliveries, but with how injured the mother was, she gently pulled on the wet legs until the head and shoulders pushed through. Once that happened, the kid slid free of the birth canal and into Paige’s waiting hands. “It’s a girl. It’s a little girl!”
She cleaned off the kid’s face with her hand and put her up to Petunia’s udder right away. “Come on, little one. Come on.”
Sterling touched her arm. “Why are you forcing the baby to eat? Let the nanny rest for a while.”
Paige looked at Petunia’s glassy eyes. They were growing dim in a way she understood. “If the baby doesn’t get colostrum from the mother, she probably won’t survive. It’s only produced right after a kid is born. I don’t think Petunia has much time.” Saying the words somehow made it real, and Paige blinked the tears away. She couldn’t fall apart now.
A growl to their left caught them both off guard. Though the pack of hungry dogs had been driven away from the goat, the smell of the afterbirth was too much for them. The dogs edged closer, despite Sterling yelling and batting at them with his rifle.