Stealing Kisses (Valentine’s Sweethearts)
Chapter 1
1
“…thy heart is ever harder than stone.”
Telemachus to his mother, Penelope
The Odyssey by Homer, Book 23
Sunday, February 7, 2021
R emarkable blessings exist in unison with proportional burdens.
On a Sunday afternoon in early February, Baylin O’Casey embraced both her blessings and her burdens as she rode her horse across the most beautiful land in all the world: a breath-taking combination of flat fields, rolling plains, creeks and streams, tall pines, and rounded oaks. Located just outside Green Hills, Oklahoma, all six hundred thirty-three acres of fertile ground had belonged to her family for the past hundred twenty-five years.
She woke well before dawn each day, allowing Baylin a front-row seat to experience the soft, gradual transition from dark to light as the morning sun rose over the hay field; if she slept any longer, she’d run out of hours well before she ran out of chores. The chickens further entertained Baylin, chatting amongst themselves and clucking at her in a feeding frenzy when she tossed out their breakfast and gathered their eggs each day. Checking water troughs, spreading hay and straw, feeding the rest of the animals…those jobs fell to Baylin as well. Hired hands helped — to the extent the farm could afford — but without full-time employees, the bulk of the operation and most of the chores sat heavy on Baylin’s shoulders.
She faced this reality with a gracious heart…because losing the land or closing the farm business would’ve broken it. Growing crops, tending animals, and managing the house brought with them purpose and stability. Her staunch determination guaranteed their O’Casey Farm legacy lived on.
At least once a week, Baylin rode fence lines to check for breaks or needed repairs. From her tall perch astride her horse, Baylin could see to the ends of the earth.
“Ah, Penelope,” she said, leaning down to rub the horse’s neck as they cantered over lush winter grass. “It’s another gorgeous day.”
Despite a cool, crisp morning, Baylin tugged her beanie from her head, shaking out her long, golden-red hair and lifting her face to absorb the sun’s strong, bright rays.
Life was good and Baylin was content.
Hard work exhausted her mind and body, and the various hobbies she enjoyed fed her need to be creative.
Since taking on full responsibility for running the farm a few years earlier, those creative endeavors had blossomed into full-fledged side gigs. Those side gigs had developed into profitable streams of revenue for the farm, even if those sideline businesses sometimes added a multitude of tasks to her already full plate.
February meant Green Hills’ annual Sweetheart Festival, and Baylin had a million things to do before it began in just a few short days.
She reviewed her to-do list in her mind while surveying the fence line, the fields, and the other animals out grazing. Everything the light touched belonged to Baylin…
Except one thing, something red and shiny off in the distance.
“Is that a car?” she wondered aloud. Penelope nickered in response. “I sooo do not have time for that to be a car — or a human — all the way out here.”
Baylin nudged Penelope into a gallop with a continuous prayer looping in her mind: Please don’t be a car.
She stood in the stirrups to see better as they flew over the earth.
Definitely a car, and definitely a human.
“Splendid,” she grumbled.
Baylin’s day took a deep dive for the worse.