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Trust, or lack thereof, could make a break a spirit. At the window, a lone goldfinch tapped aggressively at the kitchen pane. Seeing its reflection, assuming another male had entered its territory, it sought to defend what he felt rightfully belonged to him. Ironically, as Kylie West watched the anxious winged lover defend his territory, she knew, based on the habits of the bird breed, that as soon as those eggs hatched, this dude would flee the nest. Her bottom lip quivered as she held the documents in her hand which nearly mirrored her relationship with the bird.

The West Family Farm, a heritage farm, that has existed in the West family for nearly 150 years, would come to an end under her watch. She was the last West in the family and her father’s only living relative. Grandpa West, a man of many talents in farming, had no skills in financial management, making a mess of the books. Today she would meet with his accountant and pray there would be some hope or semblance of opportunity to at least save a few acres.

Kylie, having returned from Oregon with her new man, prepared to take over the farm and start anew. Sheldon Biggs said he was ready to take it all on. He was ready to be a husband, a father, and a farmer. Filled with hope and blind faith, she and Sheldon packed her belongings relocating her to St Ansgar, Iowa to the West Family Farm. The first clue something was amiss showed up in the moving truck. The only items in the truck belonged to Kylie.

The second red flag appeared when Sheldon saw the size of the farm, thinking 120 acres was a great deal to manage, although only 24 of the acres were actually for farming. Kylie watched him balk at the state of the barns and outbuildings as he mentally calculated in his head the cost of repairs to such a property in disrepair.

“This is my family’s legacy,” she told Sheldon. “I am going to add to the legacy by bringing life to this place with children.”

She touched her belly. It was the first indication to him that she was expecting his child. The second time she told him she was expecting his child happened two days later. The final time she told him of the pregnancy, it was said to the back of his head. Sheldon walked away. He walked away and said he was returning to Washington state to pack his things. When he came back to Iowa, they could start working on all the ideas and visions she had for the property.

In her head, the barn would be turned into a rental space for parties, bridal or wedding showers, and large family gatherings. It would serve as a revenue generator to pay down the ridiculous mortgage from the loan her grandfather took out on the place to buy new farm equipment. Several of the acres could be sold, she explained, to lessen the tax costs which were also coming due.

“Yeah, this is a lot,” Sheldon replied looking at her stomach. “I need a minute. Let me head home and get my things, and when I return at the end of the month, we will figure it all out.”

She didn’t expect him to come back. Honestly, she didn’t want him to come back, everything she owned was here on the farm. The farm was all she had left and now, she was pregnant, alone, and scared out of her mind. That was weeks ago, and thus far, she hadn’t heard from him.

In the distance, her phone rang. Maybe it was Sheldon having a change of heart, but she doubted it. More than likely, it was another predator wanting to swoop in and pick off the remnants of her carcass as she sat, forlornly too tired to cry, and barely able to put up a fight. Reluctantly, she answered the call.

“Kylie West,” she said into the line.

“Ms. West, this is Kimbrae Phillips Brown, from K. Phillips and Associates in St. Joseph, Missouri,” the voice said, “do you have a moment to speak with me?”

“I have nothing but time,” Kylie replied.

“Very good,” Kimbrae said, “I am, or rather, was your grandfather’s accountant.”

“Why, he was terrible with money and has left me a farm and a boatload of debt. What did he need with an accountant?”

The hostility in her voice said enough for Kimbrae. She understood this moment more than most, and after many conversations with Ollie West, plans had been put into place to protect his only grandchild. Kimbrae saw to his wishes.

“Ms. West, I need to meet with you as soon as possible. Your Grandfather left a few provisions for you, in case you needed them,” she told the young woman.

“He did?”

“Yes, but let’s not discuss it over the phone,” she told her. “I am in St. Joseph, Missouri, which is about a five-hour drive. Ollie West would make the drive, spend the night in St. Joe, and have a good meal as we went over the books.”

“The books? He has so much debt,” Kylie said. “The buildings on the property are falling in, vultures are at the door, and if a little check you have for me is enough to cover all of this, I will be there tonight. If not, I am simply…I can’t right now.”

Kimbrae did the dance with family heirs one time too many to want to deal with this lady’s pity party. Life was unfair, harsh, and a bitter pill to swallow, but the medicine had to go down, with or without sugar. She didn’t mince her words.

“Ms. West, I understand how you feel, however, you can sit there and sulk, or come see what your grandfather left as a provision for your future,” Kimbrae said. “I am texting you the address, how soon can you be here.”

“I guess tomorrow afternoon,” Kylie replied, feeling even lower than she had earlier.

“Good, I shall see you then,” Kimbrae said, ending the call.

The call came in yesterday. Today she was making the drive to St. Joseph to meet with the Phillips woman. Five hours was a great deal of time to recount the misfortunes of life, and thus far, the last generation of the West family was seeing its fair share.

Ollie and Ruby West, gave birth to two sons, one of which was Kylie’s father. He, hating farm life, joined the military and married a flighty woman named Marian, giving birth to only Kylie. Jacob West stressed the importance of having a son to carry the West name and family line, as well as bring Marian to visit the farm. She turned up her nose and refused to visit again. Jacob’s life in the military came to a close when he received a job offer while in Seattle to move to Portland, Oregon where Kylie grew up.

Summer and Spring break were spent on the farm with Grandpa Ollie and GMa Ruby. Ollie made special nests and feeders for the goldfinches who mated in July. Outside of her bedroom window were the birdhouses with plexiglass backings so she could see inside when the eggs would hatch and the birdies would grow. Those feeders were now filled with mold from old clumped seeds where Grandpa Ollie stopped making gutters to keep the feed dry. Wet seeds meant mold and goldfinches were clean birds, who refused to return to the feeders, although they always returned to Iowa each year.

Jacob, like the goldfinches, did as well. His brother, Bryan, never left the farm and worked side by side with his father to keep the land. Younger than Jacob, and often given to flights of fancy, suffered a tragic accident on his thirty-third birthday, dying, and leaving no children. Jacob, then returned to the farm as Kylie went off to college. Her mother, finding herself suddenly free, filed for divorce, leaving Jacob to move to Paris and study art.

It was no loss to Kylie. She and her mother had a relationship, but it was never as close as either woman would have preferred. The unsaid words between them, over time, became a distancing tool that grew into a silence, neither knew how to break. Kylie gravitated to her grandmother, who loved to cook and was free with affection. She loved her GMa Ruby and Grandpa Ollie.

Ruby West, during Kylie’s sophomore year of college, suffered a massive stroke in which she didn’t recover. The heartbreak over the loss of his Ruby, sent Ollie into a funk, in which he also never improved. The sadness gripped her family in a way, where Kylie felt she wouldn’t bounce back from any of it either.

Her father, a stern man with no sense of humor, often talked to himself. She never understood how he and her mother connected, let alone made her since the silence between her parents also grew. The only conversations Jacob would have in his later years were with himself. Loud conversations where he seemed to argue with no one in particular, making him appear strange. Ollie’s depression deepened even more when Jacob, after having one too many, decided to argue loudly with himself on the side of a dark backroad on the Eastern border of the West land, an area, where very few people with melanin traveled. A truckload of ‘patriots’ decided to teach him a lesson for yelling at his betters, leaving a broken, battered Jacob on the side of the road to perish from internal injuries.

Another blow to Ollie who simply, had no will to continue.

“Hey there Grandpa,” Kylie said as she came to the funeral of her father. It appeared that every time she came to the farm of late, it was to attend a homegoing service.

“Hey Punka Puss,” as he loved to call her. “I was gonna work on those birdhouses for you, but my back, and this arthritis, a man just can’t get around like he used to.”

“I understand Grandpa,” she lied, “maybe later, we can pick one or two to fix.”

“Ain’t no fixing what’s wrong with this place,” he grumbled. “I’m leaving it to you. I trust you’re going to do right by this land and carry the West name on into the future. Find yourself a nice fella, that can see the vision for this place you talked about creating. Get you a man who can see more than just the right now. To make this place go, Kylie, you need a man who can also see you. A good man is waiting on you gal. He’s gonna take good care of you.”

“I will do what I can Grandpa,” she promised, and it was all there was to say on the matter. The promise seemed moot with the weight hanging about her neck like an albatross. She didn’t cry and she wouldn’t. First, she needed to see what the accountant had to say, then, she would make her next moves.

****

The offices of K. Phillips and Associates were housed in an older building with modern amenities. She entered the offices skeptical of anything the efficient-sounding woman on the phone had to say and furthermore, she didn’t trust anyone who claimed to have managed her grandfather’s finances considering the sizeable mess he left her to handle. Optimism left her after the first hour into the drive, now she was simply bordering on arriving with a pissy attitude.

“Good morning, welcome to K. Phillips, how may I help you?” The man behind the counter said. A black man, large in size, with numerous muscles greeting her like an old lover, raised her hackles. Her immediate thoughts went to shady dealings in the company if that dude was the receptionist.

“I’m Kylie West, I have an appointment with Ms. Phillips,” she said, looking suspiciously at the man.

“Ah, yes. It will be a few moments,” he said. “Did you come here straight from the drive from Iowa?”

“I did,” Kylie said.

She watched the man rise, leaving her standing at the desk. He returned a moment later with a bottle of water, an apple, and a bag of veggie crisps. Kylie’s eyebrows arched in surprise.

“Thank you for this,” she said, taking the snacks, not even realizing she was in fact, hungry. A phone buzzed and the man was smiling at her.

“Mrs. Brown will see you now,” he told her, leading her to an office in the rear of the building which took up the back half of the establishment.

A mid-sized conference table sat to the right. A black woman, in heels and a power suit rose as she entered the room. She offered a smile as she pointed to the conference table asking Kylie to join her.

“Good, Dax gave you something to eat,” she said. “Mr. Ollie always wanted a piece of fruit, a bottle of water, and something to crunch on when he came for his quarterly visits. I’m Kimbrae, nice to finally meet you in person.”

“In person?”

“Yes, Mr. Ollie bragged about you so much, I was starting to think you were imaginary,” Kimbrae said, taking a seat.

In front of her was a thick folder, loaded with papers nearly bursting from the seams. Kylie looked at the folder as well, opening the water to take a sip. The skepticism returned as she stared at the woman.

“I guess as imaginary as his financial ability to manage money,” Kylie replied. “Everything is a mess and unless you’re about to tell me he left me a million dollars, which is what I’m going to need to save that farm, then we can cut this short.”

Kimbrae titled her head. There was more going on with the young woman than just the farm. In her eyes existed a deep-seated pain she needed to expel and obviously she had no one to share the letdowns in her life. Instead of jumping into the matters at hand, Kimbrae called Dax for tea service.

“Excuse me? I didn’t come here for tea,” Kylie interjected.

“No, you came seeking help and hope,” Kimbrae said. “Besides, where else do you have to be, at the farm, alone? I am sensing, other matters are weighing you down, so if you want to talk, now is the time. I have resources and may be able to help.”

“Like you helped my Grandfather?”

“Actually, yes,” she said, opening the folder as Dax arrived with a tray. Two delicate tea cups with a matching teapot arrived with finger sandwiches and tea biscuits. “Thank you, Dax.”

Kylie’s eyes went to the man. “Is he like, your man or something?”

“No, Dax is my Guy Friday, as he likes to call himself,” she said. “He’s been with me going on eleven years. The man is great at his job and runs this office smoothly and efficiently.”

“I’ve never seen the likes.”

“There are things in the world Ms. West, you have no idea exists. One is good people who are willing to help you for nothing more than the sake of being there when you need a friend,” Kimbrae said.

“Is that what you’re doing, being my friend?”

“It appears as if you need one,” she replied, “but closing yourself off to shield the pain is not going to win you any champions.”

“Well, that’s what I need right now. I need a champion, a hero, a husband, a handyman, a rich man, a man who is willing to take on the burden of my life…,” she said, dropping her head. “Let me rephrase that. I need a life partner to aid me in restoring a legacy and building a new one.”

“And what are you willing to offer in return?”

Kylie’s head popped up, “what do you mean by that?”

Kimbrae replied, chuckling as she spoke. “You want a hero and a champion to take on your cause. In return, what are you willing to provide, companionship, love, three hot meals a day, and loving arms when he comes in the door at night?”

“Funny, laugh at my predicament.”

“What you need, someone is willing to provide, Ms. West, you simply have to place the request into the universe and see what answers,” Kimbrae added.

“Yeah, that’s my fear, what is going to answer,” she said softly.

“What, is it exactly that you need Ms. West?”

Kylie didn’t expect to have this sort of conversation with her grandfather’s accountant, but the woman was holding information close to her vest. The buttons were tight and she was waiting on Kylie to be honest. Honesty was all she had left.

“I’m pregnant,” Kylie said. “The father of the child dropped me off, lied, and said he was returning to Washington state to collect his things, and that was two weeks ago. I have heard nothing from him. My bank account is low. The farm is falling apart. I am using gallon jugs of water to keep clean. Grandpa left nothing but debt and I am lonely, sad, and scared. I need a hero and a million dollars.”

“Okay,” Kimbrae said, passing her a check.

“What is this?”

“Mr. Ollie was terrible with money,” Kimbrae said. “Each time he paid me a visit or paid my fee, I added it to a special interest-bearing account in your name.”

“What?”

“Roughly, when I closed it out yesterday, it came to three hundred and fifty thousand,” Kimbrae said passing her the check. “Granted, Mr. Ollie also gave me twenty-five thousand to invest and save for you, which is also a part of this total, minus a small management fee I kept for myself.”

“He did what?”

“Ms. West, this is not enough to take care of everything with the farm,” she said. “We can make a plan to help you hold on to the majority of the acres, but some will have to be sold off to keep it in the family you’re about to start.”

Kylie’s hand shook as she looked at the check. She’d never seen that many zeros in her life and had no idea how to handle that much money. Her eyes misted as she looked at Kimbrae and passed the check back to her.

“I don’t know how to handle this kind of money,” she said, “I will need help. Can I give this back and you give me a monthly allowance or something.”

“Of course, if that is your wish,” Kimbrae said. “How else may I help you?”

“Can you get me a husband to help raise this child, fix that farm, help me sell off the acres we can’t use, start a business to make money, so I can stay on my family’s land,” Kylie wanted to know?

“I can’t, but I know someone who can,” she said, picking up her cell phone. She searched her contacts, locating the number for one Coraline Newair in New York City at the Perfect Match Agency. The phone rang several times before a voice came over the line. “Coraline, Kimbrae Phillips Brown, I have a client for you.”

Kylie watched the woman chat into the line as if this were a thing she did every day. She provided the person on the other line with information about Kylie as if they had known each other all their lives. All the while she spoke, Kimbrae’s eyes remained on Kylie.

“Yes, she is expecting,” Kimbrae said, “I would say about two months along. Yes. College Graduate, Reed College, liberal arts, she is a photographer. Yes, her grandfather left her a farm in Iowa that is about 120 acres of run-down buildings, and in debt. Oh, okay. You can. How soon? I will get her on a plane and to you tomorrow. Thanks so much.”

Kimbrae ended the call, smiling at Kylie whose eyes were wide in fear. “What the hell just happened?”

“A company in New York specializes in matchmaking,” Kimbrae said. “You head to New York tomorrow to meet with her, take a few tests, and a database will spit you out a perfect match that wants a ready-made family, a farm, and has the funds to get done what has to happen. More than anything, he will be willing to take it all on.”

Kylie was shaking her head no. “What kind of man wants to marry a woman carrying another man’s child?”

“Maybe a man who can’t have any of his own,” Kimbrae said. “At some point Kylie, you’re going to have to learn faith and trust are synonymous. Go through the process, be open, and be willing to see what life can bring you next. Thus far, you are alone and have nothing.”

“And what if this perfect match is a weirdo who wants to beat me and my child, and on the same farm I’m trying to save, it becomes my prison?”

It was Kimbrae’s turn to bug out her eyes, “Good grief Sis! Relax.”

She called Dax to her office. He entered, bringing a fresh pot of tea, and stood at the side of the table awaiting instructions. His eyes were on his boss and not the woman.

“Dax, can you please book Ms. West a hotel close to the airport,” she told him. “She needs to be on a flight to New York to meet with Ms. Newair tomorrow. Book her an overnight stay in midtown and a return flight here to St. Joseph, the following day.”

Dax turned to Kylie, “Ms. West, do you have an airline preference or a frequent flyer program?”

“Not really,” she said, looking at Kimbrae. “You are serious, aren’t you?”

“I’m as serious as this life situation you have,” she told Kylie. “Let’s work on getting you some happily ever after.”

Kimbrae knew a few things she wasn’t ready to share with Kylie. If the universe was listening, everything would align perfectly. The answers Kylie needed would be handled by the man who understood unasked questions. It would be interesting indeed and she couldn’t wait to see if her hunch was correct.

“This will be very interesting indeed,” Kimbrae said.