“That would be great, thank you.”
The boy wandered to the back and Christian looked for the next thing on his list. Milk dye.
He was still coming up empty by the time the boy’s dad came out.
“Heard you’re looking for something for Eric Jensen?” The older man rounded the aisles, his large belly nearly a foot in front of him.
“Yeah. I’m Christian. I’m helping out for the summer.”
“That’s good of you. The Jensen’s are some of the best people around.” The guy stuck out his hand. “I’m Robert Stetson. Let’s see what I can do you for.”
Christian shook his rough, giant hand. “I’m looking for gluten-free feed.”
The man spluttered out a word that immediately turned into a laugh and simultaneous cough. “Gluten-free feed, eh? What else you got on that there list?”
“Milk dye number 47,” another cough stopped him. Christian looked up at the man before continuing. “And a two-udder milker.”
Robert made little wheezing sounds, which made both Christian and his son look at him with wide eyes. Christian was five seconds from calling 911 when the man got ahold of himself.
The man placed a hand on his belly and grinned so wide his gold tooth caught the light.
“Son, I think someone is pulling your leg. Cows aren’t gluten intolerant. There’s no such thing as milk dye. And if therewerea two-uddered cow, well, we’d call that a goat.”
Christian’s face burned, and the boy started laughing behind his dad with no remorse.
“Maizie.” He gritted out the word like he was chewing on sand.
“Already made an enemy with that one, eh?” Robert said with a ragged chuckle.
Christian growled somewhere deep in his chest where he was sure his heart was. “We just got off to a rough start,” he muttered, already backing toward the door.
“Good luck with her this summer. That girl has her dad’s quick wit,” Robert said, still laughing.
He’d expected something from her, more names and city boy jokes. But this was next level. Christian counted the painstaking steps back to the front door.
He was so lost in his head he nearly tripped over a fake skunk on the floor.
“Geez.” He jumped back. It looked so realistic.
Extremely realistic.
He picked up the skunk and turned around. “How much for this?”
* * *
The familiar scrapeof the downstairs door echoed through the house along with Maizie’s dad’s voice. “Hey, Maiz.”
She knew better than to make her dad wait for her. She put her pencil and book down and met him at the top of the stairs.
“Yeah?”
Her dad paused to unlace his boots and looked up at her. “I just got a call from Robert.”
Her smile froze in place. “Oh?”
“Do you know why Christian would go to the feed store for gluten-free grain?” Her dad’s smile either said “How could you do that?” or “I’m so proud of you.” At the moment, she wasn’t sure which.
“Not a clue,” she said with an innocent shrug.
