In Farm's Way, page 24
“I want you to take a moment and think about what you said just now, and then think back to six months ago when you were sitting in a fancy LA office.”
I grimaced. The image was quite a leap.
“So what’s wrong?” she asked.
I sighed. I had hoped she’d forgotten about that question.
She shook her finger at me. “Don’t lie to me. I know something is wrong. You made that same face in biology class when you let Mr. Donalson’s rats out of their cage and they ran out of his classroom. They never did find Gertrude.”
I still felt bad about that. Poor Gertrude. Mr. Donalson was never the same after the incident. “I just wanted to pet one. I didn’t know it would try to bite me. I jumped back for half a second, and they made a break for it. How was I supposed to know they were going to do that?”
“They’re rats. They bite. Have you never heard of the Black Death?”
“That was a mistake. Fall Daze might be a mistake too. I didn’t bake enough for this many people.”
She grinned. “Not to worry. Jessa is on her way with more food. She’s bringing pies! Deep-fried Twinkies too.”
“I feel terrible pulling Jessa away from her diner. The afternoons there are always busy. Not to mention there’s the issue of her food not being organic.”
“Organic is in the eye of the beholder.” She grinned. Her daughters cooed and kicked their legs as if they were in agreement with their mother.
“No, it really isn’t,” I said and then added quickly, “Not that I’m not thankful for what she’s doing. She’s really saving me. Whatever she brings, I know it will be delicious.”
“Listen, you can just tell everyone Jessa baked and fried the organic out of her food. You don’t have much choice. There must be two hundred and fifty people here. How many did you plan on?”
I sighed. “Maybe one hundred? I thought I was being outrageous to make that much food for that many people.”
My father shuffled back over on his walker. I expected him to have gone into the farmhouse and putter with his collection of historical Michigan artifacts. It was typically how he escaped anything he found unpleasant.
“Hi, Mr. Bellamy,” Kristy said with a bright grin.
He nodded at my friend. “It’s nice to see you, Kristy. Congratulations on the girls. They are very cute.”
Kristy blinked. “Why thank you, Mr. Bellamy.”
I knew she was surprised. My father wasn’t one to use the word “cute” for anything or anyone.
Dad turned to me. “You said more food is coming. Where is it? Chesney is about to be mauled for that last piece of pumpkin pie.”
“What a terrible way to go,” Kristy said.
I shot her a look and said, “Jessa will be here soon. She’s the reinforcements.”
“You’re having Jessa’s Place cater?” Dad said. “No one in this crowd is going to go for your hippie granola when they have a fried Twinkie staring them in the face.”
“Dad, did you even look at what I made for today? There’s no granola at all.”
“I didn’t have to look to know it was a bunch of hippie stuff you brought back from California with you. Organic.” He snorted and shuffled away again.
Part of me really hoped he would hide in the collection room for the rest of the festival.
“I’m sure your dad is proud of you,” Kristy said as she watched him go.
I gave her a look and then bit my lip. “Maybe I expected too much out of him and myself to host an event this soon after moving back to the farm. We weren’t nearly as ready as I wanted to be. The fact that we ran out of food is all the proof we need of that.”
“This soon? Shiloh, you’ve been back since July. You have to do something if the farm has any chance of success. Also, everyone who is eating your baked goods has raved about them. I think you should apply for a booth at the farmers market to sell them. I can get you an in.” She winked at me.
“Really?” I asked. “I never expected to have a slot in the market this year. You said that all the spots are full.”
Her face clouded over. “We have a vacancy.”
I wanted to ask her what she meant by that when a shrill voice called, “Kristy Brown, I want a word with you!”
Kristy cringed.
From the pasture, Minnie Devani pushed her way through the line waiting to sign up for the corn maze. “Kristy Brown, you had better speak to me!”
Kristy sighed and turned around. Huckleberry galloped in the direction of the barn. I knew he was going to sit this one out with the barn cats. I can’t say I blamed him.
Minnie was a squat woman in her sixties. She had gray hair that fell just above her ears and wore a plaid green coat over her olive-green pantsuit. The coat was a surprising fashion choice. Most of the time Minnie was precisely color coordinated.
Minnie wagged her finger at Kristy. “You had better take your lies back or I’ll sue you!”
Kristy’s cheeks flushed, and she stepped in front of the stroller. “I don’t think you’re the one who should be calling someone else a liar. Watch yourself, Minnie. If you want to revisit the conversation we had earlier today, I’d be happy to do that, but I don’t think that’s something you want to do in front of an audience.”
“You can’t tell me what to do.” Minnie jabbed a polished pink fingernail into Kristy’s chest.
Kristy clenched her jaw. I grabbed the handles of the stroller and pulled the girls away from the fray. By the look on Kristy’s face, there was about to be some fireworks. I had seen the same look on my friend’s face so many times. It never ended well for the person on the receiving end of that glare.
“Don’t touch me,” Kristy said through clenched teeth.
I pulled the stroller back even farther. You could never be too careful. It’s not that I thought the two women would come to blows, but I wanted the twins out of the way just in case.
“I will do whatever I please after the way I have been treated,” Minnie said. “You have ruined me, and you did it out of spite. You’re a spiteful woman.”
“After the way you’ve been treated? I have been nothing but kind and lenient with you. Do you want to tell all these people here that you are six months late on your booth rent for the farmers market? Do you want me to tell them that to help you pay off the debt, I let you work at the market while I was on maternity leave?” Kristy took a step closer to Minnie, so that she was just inches from her face. “Do you want me to tell them that when I got back from maternity leave, I discovered that you stole over six thousand dollars from the market and still didn’t pay your rent?” She took another step closer to Minnie now. “Is that what you want me to tell them?”
Minnie opened and closed her mouth. Everyone in line for food, the hayride, and the corn maze stared at us. The festival grew deathly quiet.
I hurried forward and patted Kristy’s arm. “Kristy,” I hissed.
My friend looked at me, and there was fury in her eyes. I jumped back. In all my life, I had never seen Kristy this angry.
Minnie covered her face with her hands. The rings on her fingers sparkled in the late afternoon sunlight coming up over the barn.
“I think the two of you need to talk about this another time,” I said in a low voice.
Kristy’s face cleared, and her fury was immediately replaced with abject horror as she realized the scene she’d made. “I’m sorry, Shi. This is your event. I shouldn’t have let her rile me up so much.”
“It’s fine.” I turned to Minnie. “Minnie, I think you and Kristy should talk about this later, in private.”
She glared at me. “You shouldn’t be here at all, Shiloh Bellamy. No one wants to know what you think.”
I put my hands on my hips. “That may be so, but this is my farm and I’m asking you to leave.”
“I was leaving anyway. The only reason I came here was to talk to Kristy. I knew she would be at your little festival.” She made a dismissive gesture with her hand. “It’s a poor excuse for one, if you ask me. My dear friend Doreen Killian told me all about you, and I can very well see why she doesn’t want her granddaughter around such a bad influence.”
My face grew hot.
Before I could fire back, she pointed at Kristy again. “I will make you sorry, Kristy Brown. Remember this day. I will make sure you never forget what you did to me!” She spun around and stomped back in the direction of the pasture that served as our makeshift parking lot.
Utter silence fell over Fall Daze.
I waved at the crowd. “Welcome to Fall Daze, everyone! We have more baked goods on the way and fried Twinkies! Who doesn’t love a fried Twinkie?”
I don’t think anyone was thinking of fried Twinkies at the moment. They were thinking that if anyone could make good on a promise to make another person’s life miserable, it was Minnie Devani.
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Acknowledgments
Thanks to all my readers who continue to follow me from series to series. I love writing the Farm to Table series and am so glad you have enjoyed them too. I’m an Ohio girl, but it has been so fun for me to write about beautiful Michigan, a state that I visit often and I hold dear.
Thanks always to my agent, Nicole Resciniti, for her continued guidance of my career and her unwavering friendship. Thanks too to everyone at Sourcebooks for all they do to produce these novels and promote them. Very special thanks to my editor, Anna Michels.
Thanks to reader Kimra Bell, for her sharp eye, and to my friend Sarah Preston, who has shared her vast knowledge of birding and owls. I also give love and gratitude to my husband, David Seymour, who bought the farm that inspired this series.
Final thanks to God in heaven for allowing me to have this amazing career.
About the Author
Amanda Flower is a USA Today bestselling and Agatha Award–winning author of more than forty-five mystery novels. Her novels have received starred reviews from Library Journal, Publishers Weekly, and Romantic Times, and she has been featured in USA Today, First for Women, and Woman’s World. In addition to being a writer, she was a librarian for fifteen years. Today, Flower and her husband own a farm and recording studio, and they live in Northeast Ohio with their adorable cats.
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Amanda Flower, In Farm's Way
