Page 6 of If It's You

Grandpa shook his head. “Just wait ’til one of them buggers kicks you in the knee cap. You won’t care about who’s eating who.”

“What do you think we do with hurt animals?” Grandma asked. “The meat from one cow can last our family almost a year.”

He’d never thought of that.

“When the apocalypse hits, they’ll eat nothing but hamburgers and steaks until the zombies come,” Jayce said with a chuckle.

“And you’ll be begging to get in our door.” Grandma poked his side, and Jayce pulled her in for a side hug.

“You know it. No place I’d rather be.”

Christian could think of a few places. The beach, the mountains, anywhere the smell of cow poop couldn’t reach.

“Let’s go,” Jayce said after they’d helped clean up dinner. He headed for the truck and Christian followed.

“Where?”

“To my uncle Eric’s house.”

“And who’s that?” Christian had learned during dinner that Grandma and Grandpa had had six boys and four daughters, about nine too many to keep track of.

“The one who owns the farm now. Maizie’s dad.”

He itched at his shirt collar. “The girl from the barn?”

“That would be the one.” Jayce snickered at him. “You better hope she doesn’t bite off your head for giving her the cold shoulder earlier.”

Christian rolled his eyes. He’d already been repaid for that one. “Please. I’m not scared of her.” How lame did Jayce think he was? He’d been the one to prank the principal’s house in high school, and he’d never gotten in trouble. Okay, so he would have gotten in trouble if it hadn’t been for losing his dad. Kids “act out” when they are grieving. Or so he’d been told. But he wasn’t about to be intimidated by Jayce’s redneck cousin.

Mitchell and Mason, Maizie’s two younger brothers, met them at the door of the house. Mitchell was fourteen, and Mason was ten. The boys pulled out a board game, and Jayce and Christian were immediately roped into playing it.

“Are you here for the whole summer?” Mitchell asked while waiting for his turn.

Hopefully not.“Yup.” Christian moved his player then passed the dice.

“Sick! We are going to have so much help with chores.”

“Nice try buddy.” A middle-aged man entered the kitchen, and slapped Jayce on the back. “You must be Christian,” he said, holding out his hand. “I’m Eric.”

“That’s me.” Christian shook the hand of his new employer.

“We’re glad you decided to come help. One of my guys got rammed by the bull a few weeks ago and is in for one heck of a recovery.”

Christian gulped, his throat tightening. Of all the places he could work, he’d thought a dairy farm would be the safest.

“Oh, don’t worry. You’ll be fine. He didn’t see the bull coming until it was too late,” Eric said and sauntered off.

Sure. Of course that won’t happen to me. Gah. Imagine what my mom would say if I died on a farm.

* * *

It had taken two hours,but Maizie had achieved perfection. She felt beautiful in her favorite white top, tucked into her high waisted jeans that gave her curves she had only recently come to love. Her hair flaunted perfected beach waves, and most importantly, she no longer smelled like the farm.

Turner was going to love it.

Time for the final piece.

She opened her top dresser drawer and retrieved her tiny jewelry box from its hiding place. It was misshapen and the stain was faded, but she had loved it since her twin brother had given it to her for Christmas four years ago.