“What?! I thought it was going to you.” Hattie’s eyebrows furrow.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought too. I’m too angry to understand this.” I lie back on the bed.
“That doesn’t make any sense. Do you think it’s some sort of mistake?”
“I did, but her lawyer says the paperwork is exactly what she asked for,” I grumble.
“So, what happens now? I can’t move Ollie. He loves being homeschooled here. And you know what happens when he can’trun around—imagine having to be in school almost eight hours a day,” Hattie whispers.
“I know. I just know it’s being taken over. But they could decide to sell or keep it or hire someone else to sell it.” I sigh.
“I wish we knew more,” Hattie says quietly. “I barely saw you last night, though. Did you have fun?”
“No.” I grit my teeth. “The woman I hooked up with last night happens to be the woman who just inherited the orchard.”
“WHAT?!” Hattie spins around from looking out the window to face me again. “How? What? That’s insane. Once again, how?”
“We didn’t exchange names last night. I thought she was some random woman. I didn’t do a formal background check, but now I wish I did.”
“Well, did you do a good job? Like would she consider letting us live here because of your skills? You’re always bragging, so they have to be good for something,” Hattie teases.
“Now is not the time for jokes!” I groan.
“I mean, did she know who you were? Or that she was getting this place?”
“I don’t think so. She looked pretty shocked at the lawyer’s meeting. But I don’t really know her well enough to say,” I say, thinking back to earlier.
“Okay, well then maybe she’s reasonable, and you can convince her with your charm to not give up on this place.”
“You think I have enough charm to convince her not to go back to her cushy job in the city and instead take up being a farmhand on an apple orchard?” I raise an eyebrow.
“I thought you didn’t know that much about her?” Hattie raises an eyebrow back.
“She said she’s from the city, and she’s dressed like someone out ofThe Devil Wears Prada.It’s not hard to guess she has a nice job.” I wave her off.
“I see.” Hattie nods.
Benny let Hattie move into the neighboring house on the property seven years ago when she was pregnant with Ollie. Her very religious parents kicked her out for getting pregnant out of wedlock. Benny gave her a job as the orchard’s official veterinarian. Hattie was only a few credits shy of the title, and Benny convinced her to keep going to get her certificate, with the promise of free room and board.
Hattie has always been easygoing—and she calls me out on my shit. I don’t know why I enjoy being called out like that, but I do. She’s a better mom to Ollie than either of us had while growing up, and he brings more joy to this place than she does. I never imagined enjoying having a kid around all the time, but now I’m proudly Aunt Tilly, and I can’t imagine my life without him. Which is why the thought of moving hurts so much worse than just having to find a new place. I’ll probably have to move away from them too.
“There has to be some kind of law against this sort of thing. Like we have to have some sort of rights, right?” Hattie asks, pulling me from my thoughts.
“You’d think so, but I have no idea.” I sigh.
“I have to go put Ollie to bed, but as soon as he’s down I’ll come over with some food and my brainstorming glasses,” Hattie says before leaving.
“Ugggggh,” I groan, closing my eyes.
I wish I could talk to Benny and get some sort of explanation about what’s going on here. The one person I want to talk to about this just isn’t around anymore. The grief I feel is weird. I was with her until the very end, so of course I miss her, but I’m also so angry. How the hell could she leave this place in the hands of someone who will probably sell it for a nickel? I don’t have any hope about the woman saving the place. Hattie tends to be more hopeful than I am. I’m realistic, because most of thetime, if you give people the benefit of the doubt, you’re the one who gets hurt.
My phone alarm goes off, and I realize it’s feeding time for the horses. I don’t have it in me to feed them tonight, but it’s not like I’ll let them go hungry just to prove a point. I get off the bed and change into my work clothes—boots and all. Heading outside, I toss on a baseball cap to keep my hair out of my eyes. It’s late spring, so although they’re welcome out of the barn, the horses often stay inside all day. We haven’t had too many people stop by for visits, so I get it.
I ring the bell, letting them know it’s time for dinner, and grab the water pail first. Getting fresh water from the sink, I make sure everyone has a good supply for the night. It’s rare they ever finish it all, but I don’t want them getting hot at night. We have six horses, all varying ages, who take the same amount of food. One by one, I make sure everyone’s in their assigned stall and lock them in for the night. I don’t want them getting into any mischief while I’m sleeping. Then I get each one food and pet their manes to tell them goodnight. I don’t bother locking up the barn—no one ever comes on the property, and it’s not like someone’s going to steal our horses.
The lights at Hattie’s house flicker off as she puts Ollie to bed, the only remaining light being the one in his bedroom. It’s a night-light, but it’s bright enough to see from the barn. He’s still getting over being afraid of the dark, so for now he sleeps with the light on. Heading back into the house, I get changed and wait in the living room for Hattie. The front door’s unlocked, and because the houses are close enough together, she can bring the baby monitor over for Ollie in case he needs something.
I put on some water for mac and cheese. I’m suddenly starving from the hard labor. Just as I’m draining the pasta, I hear someone knock at the front door.
