She also couldn’t imagine making that drive by herself, then walking in alone, though she’d hated every moment of the past few days since Brandon had left to go help his brother.
Loneliness followed her like a phantom now, and she found herself looking over to his cabin more often than not, almost expecting him to show up laughing about how he was a little late or how Dumpling blocked the way and wouldn’t let him come to work until he’d been fed a second breakfast.
The thought of Brandon and his cat made her smile as she walked toward the skid steer. He’d brought up what would happen after the job ended, and she hadn’t had an answer for him. She hadn’t stopped thinking about it either, but she still didn’t know what to do.
She’d never imagined she’d have any romantic feelings for the person who’d seen her at her absolute lowest and had to dig through the mire of what the homestead had become.
She had no handbook for this kind of thing. Her parents had been married for ten years before they’d moved here with her grandparents, and subsequently bought the homestead from them.
What should I do?she wondered, keeping the words contained inside her own mind. She’d asked several times,hoping something wise her mother or grandmother had said in the past would come forward. Perhaps God would tell her what to do.
No one had yet, and Lenore patted her pocket for the skid steer keys. When she found she had them, she headed for the machine. She might as well do the work she told Brandon she was going to. After all, she didn’t want to be a liar on top of insecure and indecisive.
Tuesday morning foundLenore gathering her eggs as usual and checking the gate every five seconds as if Brandon would drive through it before eight a.m. Of course, he wouldn’t. He probably wasn’t even up yet, and an irritated scoff fell out of Lenore’s mouth.
Dawson and Caroline had not brought their new baby boy home until yesterday afternoon, and Brandon had called her to ask what he should do.
“Whatever you want,” she’d said, completely unaccustomed to having to give her opinion to another person.
Her opinion was that he return to the homestead as soon as possible, but he’d decided to stay and cuddle his new nephew. Dawson had named his new son Bronco, and that fit perfectly with Colt.
But she’d wanted Brandon back on the homestead with her. Then she wouldn’t have to spend another night alone in her cabin. They could hit the ground running that morning. As it was, she only got him for three and a half more weeks. It felt like every minute mattered.
But it didn’t matter. He’d stayed, and he’d get here when he got here.
She finished with the eggs, cartoning them into the orders that would get picked up tomorrow. Lenore sometimes arranged to meet her buyers somewhere, but she’d explained that for the next few weeks while she had Brandon with her, she would not be able to make any trips to town. Thankfully, everyone had agreed to come pick up their orders.
She didn’t have much else to sell this month, unless she could somehow rent Calvin’s planer again. But her water catchment tank was full, thanks to a few more storms in the past couple of weeks.
In these milder winter months, she now had enough to water her strawberry plants, everything in her greenhouse, and her chickens without having to buy water at the store. She only had to do that for her drinking water, so that bill had been reduced significantly.
A flash of gratitude moved through Lenore. She took a moment to turn in a full circle and look around at the massive amount of progress that had been made on the homestead: the fully functional and beautiful barn, the well-organized array of supplies and equipment she could choose from for any project she needed to do, cataloged and easy to find.
The chicken palace, the solar panels, the greenhouse, the fully stocked woodpile, which stood literal steps from her back door.
The wagon hoop beds and the cleared land beyond where she could plant more in the spring. The wind-breaking garden storage sheds, the tire planters, and the mobile mini-coops, which brought such joy to Lenore’s heart every time she looked at them.
The land behind the livestock enclosures, which she’d sketched out to be the planting grounds for the pumpkins andalfalfa. The partially completed goat enclosure that Brandon would be sure to finish before he left. The waiting turkey enclosure.
With her savings, she planned to add to her livestock before Brandon’s deadline arrived.
So she pushed the worry away, because if she had animals, and meat, and crops, and honey, and eggs, she’d have enough tobuythe water to keep the homestead alive.
But….
“Everything would be easier with a well.” Lenore felt like she was in a chicken-or-egg situation. Which came first?
She hadn’t been to the bank, because she had nothing to show them for consistent income. No. She’d decided to try to earn more from the homestead, save, and fund things herself.
She turned to the sound of a loud, rumbling engine, pure excitement bounding to the top of her skull and bringing a smile to her face. That quickly dropped off when she saw the truck entering her property did not belong to, nor was driven by, Brandon.
Instead, an enormous industrial truck seemed to breathe fire over the land as it entered, the width and breadth of it making it a hulking giant in a place that should be serene.
She recognized the long arm tucked into the top, as well as the logo on the side, and a frown settled over her face and deep down into her soul.
What in the world was the well-drilling truck doing here?
Two men rode in the cab, and the driver came right up on her. His partner handed him a clipboard, and he got out of the truck using a set of steps on the side to do so.
