Page 16 of Steinbeck (The Minnesota Kingstons #5)

“The day is young. We have miles of walking ahead of us. I gotta keep up my strength.” He kept his hand on her shoulder as they wove along the street, working their way to something called Machinery Hill.

The men parked themselves in front of the combustion engines, Conrad and Jack and Stein listening to their father explain something about pistons.

“I’m going to sit with your sisters,” Emberly said to Stein, who glanced over at a picnic bench.

Only the slightest hint of worry flashed in his blue eyes. “Okay.”

“Declan’s exhibition doesn’t start until late this afternoon. I promise, I’m not going anywhere.”

He blinked at her, his mouth opened, and then, “I know.”

Oh, he was a wretched liar.

She didn’t know why the truth pinched as she walked over to the picnic table, sat on the bench.

“Every year,” said Mama Em. “They have to study every engine, as if he’s never seen them before.”

“You do this every year?” Emberly asked.

“Family tradition,” Austen said. “We’ll hit the horticulture barn next, and then the dairy barn—check out the butter girls?—”

“The butter girls?”

Boo had joined them, carrying a bag. She reached in and handed her mother a disfigured donut dripping in glaze. “Amish donuts.”

“The butter girls are local pageant winners whose likenesses are carved into slabs of butter, and even as I say that it sounds creepy.” Austen laughed.

“We usually get ice cream at the dairy barn,” Mama Em said. “That’s a tradition on Grover’s side.”

Boo had ripped a donut in half and handed a piece to Emberly. “Try this and tell me you haven’t died and gone to heaven.”

The words hit her, burrowed in. “How long has the state fair been running?” She took a bite. “Oh, this is good.”

“Right?” Boo said, grinning.

“Since 1859,” Mama Em said. “It closed down six times—during the Civil War, the US-Dakota war, during the Chicago World’s Fair, of course, World War Two, and then twice for epidemics—polio and Covid.

It’s one hundred and sixty-six years old.

And I believe the Kingston family has attended every year since the early 1900s. ”

She leaned over to Emberly. “At some point I’m going to park myself in the bandshell and listen to the polka bands.” She winked.

Yes, Emberly had walked into a different life.

The sun started to bake the day, seasoning the streets with the smells of fried food, beer, cotton candy. The crowds thickened.

They got newspaper hats, wandered through the horticulture barn, bought apples, then went to the dairy barn, ate more ice cream, visited something called Heritage Square.

Then Austen grabbed cheese curds, and they shared as they watched a parade with marching bands and fire engines and baton twirlers and rescue dogs in need of adoption.

And finally, they indeed parked on a bench, watching polka.

Steinbeck came over and handed her a root beer float.

“I swear to you, I drink that and I’ll explode. Bam. Human shrapnel everywhere.”

“That’s disgusting. And I’m sorry, but you have to have at least one sip.

It’s a state-fair rule. I’ll let you opt out of the deep-fried Twinkies—but after we talk to Declan, you have to leave room for a turkey leg.

And the finale—cookies and milk.” He sat down next to her as someone played an accordion on stage, women in red hoopskirts dancing.

“They clearly have not eaten their way through the fair.” She took a sip of root beer. “Oh my, this is good.”

“Right?” He took a sip from the other straw. “Everything is more amazing at the fair.”

She looked at him. The sun had kissed his face, and he hadn’t shaved this morning, burnished whiskers on his chin. He wore a black T-shirt and a pair of cargo shorts, loafers. A normal man enjoying a normal day.

Admittedly, she didn’t hate the way his arm fell naturally around her, or the way that Boo, like a normal sister, handed her a big piece of her funnel cake, the powdered sugar dusting over her pants.

Or how Penny leaned up from behind her and pointed out a couple of kids, a boy and girl around five years old, dancing the polka, a perfectly normal gesture.

She could survive normal.

“It’s almost time for Dec’s exhibit,” said Austen, and she got up. “You coming?”

Stein held out his hand. And of course Emberly took it. Why not?

“We’ll meet you guys at Oaken’s show,” Stein said.

“He has backstage passes for us,” Boo said.

“So what will your parents do after the polka?” Emberly said as they walked away with Austen.

“Oh, they’ll head over to the natural resources building and Dad will watch the muskies, and then they’ll grab some sweet corn and eat it near the WCCO building.

Maybe read a paper. Then they’ll tour the grandstand and Dad will buy something random, like a waffle maker or homemade caramel sauce or some other fair special.

And then they’ll mosey back to grab a turkey leg, and maybe end watching a horse show. ”

“And eating cookies.”

“And eating cookies.” He grinned down at her. “You like the fair.”

“I like”—she shrugged—“this day.”

He made a soft hum, deep inside, and nodded.

They walked past Kidway, with its amusement-park rides and a giant Ferris wheel, and overhead, a skyride carried yellow and red cars along a cable.

“What is this exhibit Declan is doing?” Stein asked Austen as they passed a giant karaoke area.

“He’s been working with a robotics department at a local college on a project aimed at meeting the need for service animals for the vision impaired. The students are trying to earn a grant to develop the program.”

“Using Declan’s AI program, Axiom?”

“A version of it designed for this project.”

They entered a building on the far side of the fairgrounds, more of a warehouse, but with booths hosting various college-led technology projects. Emberly spotted Declan standing off to the side as a handful of students set up animal prototypes—two dogs and a monkey.

The tech billionaire was dressed in a T-shirt and jeans, like just a guy hangin’ out at the fair.

Austen walked up and took his hand, rose on her toes, and whispered into his ear.

Probably something along the lines of Don’t panic, but Phoenix is here.

It didn’t work. He turned, and his mouth gaped a second before he sighed and then... smiled?

What?

They walked up and he held out his hand. “Stein. Phoenix.”

Stein shook it. “We need to talk to you when this is over.”

He nodded as the exhibition started. A small crowd had gathered in the space, industrial fans whirring to keep everyone cool. Emberly noticed a display not far away that advertised robotic fish. A few kids stood around a small pool, watching and pointing, others directing the fish on tablets.

She was missing the presentation and turned back to it just as a big dog, built to look like a friendly Labrador, navigated an adult through an obstacle course. The students reset it, and the AI dog went again.

“The dog can be trained to respond to voice commands, of course, but the best part is that it can predict danger, like a real trained service dog.”

They’d set up a racecourse with battery-operated cars circling around the dog. The man urged the animal to move, but it waited, pressing against the trainer’s legs in warning, then walked the subject through the maze of objects.

Applause. And then the dog barked.

It sounded so real, the crowd stilled.

Then it turned, growled , and launched itself at its trainer.

Screams as the man went down and the dog, toothless but still powerful, locked onto his arm.

The man howled, and Emberly probably just imagined hearing a bone snap with the chaos erupting from the crowd.

Steinbeck bolted, plowed into the middle of the mess, and launched himself onto the animal.

Man against dog machine? Emberly sprinted into the fray even as the dog turned on Steinbeck, obviously thinking , reacting , and clamped down on his knee.

Stein grabbed its throat, trying to tear it free, and Emberly kicked the robot’s head.

A grunt from Stein as the clamp dislodged, and then Emberly seized the dog by the neck, the robot writhing in her double-fisted grip. “Help!”

Stein scrambled up, nabbed the robot’s tail.

Declan showed up, threw his arm around the dog’s neck, clamping it to his body.

“The pool!” Emberly shouted.

“Make a hole!” Stein’s shout, but it was unnecessary since the onlookers had already fled.

They dropped the dog into the water, Steinbeck jumping in to hold it down. Declan too, right beside him, shoving the college project under water, the robot jerking.

Dying.

Steinbeck looked up, breathing hard. Met Emberly’s gaze.

Declan wore a look of horror.

“Well,” Austen said, standing at the edge, her hands on her hips. “I’ve never seen that at the fair before.”