house. First things first. “A lot of the farm is the way Grandpa left it. I’ve been making some improvements here and there as I’ve had time.” Would she see the potential? Or only that it was rundown?
“What do you think my class will like to see?”
So she was making this trip a two-fer. Corbin exhaled. He’d play along.
They stopped in front of the chicken house. “These are always a favorite. Of course, there aren’t any cute fluffy babies this time of year. You could bring them back in spring for that.” If she’d ever want to return. “Baby chicks, piglets, lambs... enough cuteness to make your eyes bleed.”
Sarah ran her free hand down the wire mesh. “That will turn all my students into vegetarians for sure.”
“Not usually. Given a balanced worldview, kids usually figure things out. Besides, most of them are addicted to chicken strips and hamburgers. It doesn’t hurt for them to know where those come from.” She hadn’t ordered vegetarian at the Water Wheel, had she? No. Chicken Cordon Bleu. Whew.
“So, those birds.” Sarah pointed into the pen. “They’re headed for nugget land?”
“Nope. The meat birds are already sold or in the freezer. Those are my layers.”
“Layers?” She looked up at him.
“They lay eggs, which I sell to Loco-to-Go and a couple of stores.”
Sarah nodded and turned away. “What else?”
He showed her the pasture where the pigs rooted, surrounded by an electric fence. Hmm. He’d have to make sure the kids understood not to touch that. Over the knoll, the sheep pasture. This year’s lambs had already been sent to the abattoir, and the young pigs wouldn’t be much longer. The horses followed them along the corral.
“No cows? And here I thought they were a farm staple.”
“Grandpa kept an old milk cow. She’s over in the far pasture with this year’s calf.”
“Interesting. I’m not seeing what will keep the children’s attention for long, though they’ll like the horses.”
How about her own? He wished he could see what was going on behind those deep brown eyes.
“Kids like to run and play and experience nature. At least I sure did.” Maybe they needed more structure. Corbin pointed to the area behind the house. “Let me show you the garden and orchard.”
She fell into step beside him again, her fingers still tangled in his. “What kind of fruit trees?”
“Apples. Several heritage varieties and some newer ones, too. We’re in the midst of picking.” He reached up, plucked a Honeycrisp from a tree, rubbed it on his T-shirt, and handed it to her.
Sarah took a bite, removing a chunk of the red skin and white flesh. Her eyes widened. “Wow, that’s good.”
Corbin grinned. “They’re so much better fresh than when they’ve been packed in a controlled-atmosphere cooler for months.” At the side of the orchard, he pointed out the garden area. “Pretty much everything is off now. I’ve still got some tomatoes and greens in the hothouse to send fresh produce into town until the frosts are heavier.” Thankfully he’d run the tractor and rotovator through the garden last week, tilling in the hay he’d used as mulch as well as the weeds that had been left.
“How many people work for you out here? All this looks like it needs a full crew.”
Is this where he told her he didn’t really have a life? “Just me, most of the time. I have someone a couple of mornings a week through the summer to help with the weeding.”
She turned to face him. “Really?”
Better be honest. “That’s all I can afford at the moment. I’m trying to do some repairs, too. Grandpa let things slide the last few years.” Last few decades, really.
“It must keep you busy.” She crunched into the apple.
“It does.” He eyed her. Was she wondering how she might fit in? “But I love it. I can’t imagine living anywhere else with any other career.”
“You’re not kidding, are you?”
Corbin grinned. “Quite a shock, eh? Yep, I
“What do you think my class will like to see?”
So she was making this trip a two-fer. Corbin exhaled. He’d play along.
They stopped in front of the chicken house. “These are always a favorite. Of course, there aren’t any cute fluffy babies this time of year. You could bring them back in spring for that.” If she’d ever want to return. “Baby chicks, piglets, lambs... enough cuteness to make your eyes bleed.”
Sarah ran her free hand down the wire mesh. “That will turn all my students into vegetarians for sure.”
“Not usually. Given a balanced worldview, kids usually figure things out. Besides, most of them are addicted to chicken strips and hamburgers. It doesn’t hurt for them to know where those come from.” She hadn’t ordered vegetarian at the Water Wheel, had she? No. Chicken Cordon Bleu. Whew.
“So, those birds.” Sarah pointed into the pen. “They’re headed for nugget land?”
“Nope. The meat birds are already sold or in the freezer. Those are my layers.”
“Layers?” She looked up at him.
“They lay eggs, which I sell to Loco-to-Go and a couple of stores.”
Sarah nodded and turned away. “What else?”
He showed her the pasture where the pigs rooted, surrounded by an electric fence. Hmm. He’d have to make sure the kids understood not to touch that. Over the knoll, the sheep pasture. This year’s lambs had already been sent to the abattoir, and the young pigs wouldn’t be much longer. The horses followed them along the corral.
“No cows? And here I thought they were a farm staple.”
“Grandpa kept an old milk cow. She’s over in the far pasture with this year’s calf.”
“Interesting. I’m not seeing what will keep the children’s attention for long, though they’ll like the horses.”
How about her own? He wished he could see what was going on behind those deep brown eyes.
“Kids like to run and play and experience nature. At least I sure did.” Maybe they needed more structure. Corbin pointed to the area behind the house. “Let me show you the garden and orchard.”
She fell into step beside him again, her fingers still tangled in his. “What kind of fruit trees?”
“Apples. Several heritage varieties and some newer ones, too. We’re in the midst of picking.” He reached up, plucked a Honeycrisp from a tree, rubbed it on his T-shirt, and handed it to her.
Sarah took a bite, removing a chunk of the red skin and white flesh. Her eyes widened. “Wow, that’s good.”
Corbin grinned. “They’re so much better fresh than when they’ve been packed in a controlled-atmosphere cooler for months.” At the side of the orchard, he pointed out the garden area. “Pretty much everything is off now. I’ve still got some tomatoes and greens in the hothouse to send fresh produce into town until the frosts are heavier.” Thankfully he’d run the tractor and rotovator through the garden last week, tilling in the hay he’d used as mulch as well as the weeds that had been left.
“How many people work for you out here? All this looks like it needs a full crew.”
Is this where he told her he didn’t really have a life? “Just me, most of the time. I have someone a couple of mornings a week through the summer to help with the weeding.”
She turned to face him. “Really?”
Better be honest. “That’s all I can afford at the moment. I’m trying to do some repairs, too. Grandpa let things slide the last few years.” Last few decades, really.
“It must keep you busy.” She crunched into the apple.
“It does.” He eyed her. Was she wondering how she might fit in? “But I love it. I can’t imagine living anywhere else with any other career.”
“You’re not kidding, are you?”
Corbin grinned. “Quite a shock, eh? Yep, I
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