Bales and Brawn (Foggy Basin Season Three)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

DEVIN

All the hope I felt on the journey here slumps to the bottom of my boots as a figure emerges from the feed store building. With his shorts, bright crop top, and this time, non-sparkly cowboy boots, Nova is hard to miss, which means his rottweiler of a brother can’t be far behind.

“Dawson?” I ask, turning to Evelyn as she cuts the engine of her car. I hadn’t known the brothers’ last name.

“Zane and Nova Dawson,” she says brightly. “Though their father Clive used to run the farm until he got sick.”

I look for signs of irony but find none. She isn’t to know that she’s just brought me to the one place in town that was least likely to offer me a job.

I open my mouth to tell her it’s fine, I appreciate her help, but that maybe this isn’t right for me . . . but she’s already half out of the car.

“Hi, Nova, did you enjoy the pride parade this weekend? I think it went really well for the first one. You should be proud.”

“Hey, Evelyn. Yes, it was great, wasn’t it?

But I was so tired I slept almost all day yesterday and Zane had to do my chores for me.

” He grins, completely without guile, and I can’t help but stare.

I have three brothers who are all able to manipulate their way out of doing things, but Nova’s smile seems like it was genuine.

He spies me through the car window and waves.

It would be rude to ignore him, so I climb out.

“Hullo again,” he says, tipping his head to one side and giving me a smile so bright it could melt ice on a cold day, and I can almost understand why Zane acts like his guard dog.

“Hi.” I keep my reply short, expecting a growling canine in human form to chase me off.

“This is Devin, he’s new to town and looking for work,” Evelyn chimes in before I can think of an excuse.

“Oh yes, Zane mentioned he was looking for help. He just went to town but he’ll be back soon.”

I can’t deny the sense of relief that washes through me that maybe I don’t have to meet Zane after all.

I’m probably being irrational, but I’ve managed to traverse the length and breath of this vast country for the last seven years, I’ve been involved in several barroom brawls and even almost got on the wrong side of a motorcycle gang, but I’ve never met anyone who makes my skin prickle like Zane Dawson does just from looking at me.

“Never mind, maybe some other time,” I say, hoping Evelyn can buy whatever supplies she needs and we can get back to town before he arrives. I can look for work elsewhere, maybe cut my visit short and go back to Sacramento. Or try my luck in some other town.

Evelyn and Nova disappear into the feed store, and I lean against the car looking over the yard while I wait.

The feed store is a medium-sized building, maybe big enough to house a couple of eighteen-wheelers.

Large double doors stand open, and I see pallets with sacks of feed arranged in rows as well as some large items like tools and gates beyond.

Next to it are three very large buildings.

Evelyn said this was a hay farm, so they could house machinery or store hay.

They look a lot larger than the ones we have back home, though the hay the Walkers make across the valley is the only experience I’ve had.

I remember long hot summer holidays as a teenager shifting bales onto trailers in the field and then offloading and stacking them in the barns.

We lived in shorts and T-shirts, and I remember the itchy scratches the hay left on our arms and legs.

It was worth it to earn some money, though.

Next to the large barns is a smaller wooden one, more traditional looking.

The doors are also open and I can see a few horse stalls inside.

Across the yard from the farm buildings is a farmhouse, old looking but in good repair.

There are a few chickens scratching around to complete the idyllic look, though I doubt they’ll find much to eat as the whole place is tidy.

Swept to within an inch of its life, it looks too neat, too clean.

Like an out of place piece of hay would be a rebellious act.

It makes me want to kick some dirt onto the yard, to mar the perfection of it all. Nothing should be that flawless.

Suddenly the door of the farmhouse opens and a short lady with curly brown hair comes bustling out and across the yard toward me.

“Evelyn, is that you?” She comes to a stop in front of me and eyes me up and down in surprise. “You’re not Evelyn. I was sure this was her car.” She peers round me at the vehicle.

“It is, she’s in the feed store,” I reply just as Evelyn and Nova reappear, Nova with a sack of feed balanced on his shoulder. Evelyn opens the trunk and he drops his shoulder to let it thud into it.

“Hello, Arlene,” Evelyn says, clicking the trunk shut. “I see you’ve met Devin. I brought him up to see Zane about the job you mentioned.”

“Oh good. Yes. He looks strong. Are you strong, young man?” She turns her attention back to me.

“Yes ma’am,” I answer, amusement at her manner eliciting a response I didn’t really want to give.

“Well, why don’t we all go inside for a cup of tea and wait until Zane gets back.

You can tell me all about what happened at the parade after I brought Clive home on Saturday.

I want to know all the details.” She links an arm with Evelyn and they set off toward the farmhouse.

I look down the road toward town, the low-slung buildings a dark smudge on the horizon.

I suppose I could set off on my own, walk back, pack my things, and be on the next bus to Sacramento.

No one would notice I’m gone or miss me. No one ever does.

“Aren’t you coming?” Nova calls from halfway across the yard, where he’s standing with his hands on his hips. “Aunt Arlene will probably have baked some cookies.”

It would be rude to leave now, shun the hospitality offered.

My parents taught me better than that. With a sigh, I trail after Nova into the farmhouse and a large square kitchen.

The center is taken up with a stripped-pine table, and Evelyn and Arlene are carrying on a conversation while Arlene places a large teapot on the table.

She adds a tray full of cookies, which look like they’re still steaming and smell delicious.

“Have a seat. I hope tea is alright. We have coffee as well, but I like tea. It’s English tea. I have the grocery store order it for me especially.”

“Tea is fine. Good, actually.”

I sit opposite Evelyn, facing the door. The scene is surprisingly English.

It could almost be the kitchen at home with my mum handling biscuits she’s made.

I swallow back a sudden knot of homesickness that forms in my throat and pour tea into a cup.

I add milk, stir, and take a sip. It tastes divine, like home, and I close my eyes so I can concentrate on it more.

“That’s lovely. I’ve found it hard to get a good cup of tea over here. I’ve gotten used to coffee but it’s not the same, is it?” I look up to see Arlene smiling indulgently at me.

I dip my head and wait until she returns to talking to Evelyn, then I reach for a cookie and take a bite, letting the warm buttery taste crumble on my tongue.

The sudden bang of a door makes me almost choke on the cookie, and I raise my eyes to see Zane’s tall form filling the doorway.

His eyes sweep the room before they land on me.

I swear his lip nearly curls as his brows darken.

“Hey, you’re back. How did it go? Come and join us for tea. The cookies are fresh out of the oven.” Arlene doesn’t give him any time to answer as she sets down another mug. Zane hasn’t moved, his gaze is still fixed on me.

“This is Devin, he’s come about the job,” she adds brightly.

Zane’s eyes narrow to small points, devoid of light.

“No.”