Page 68 of Things I Read About

“Yeah, try that.” I say, watching him tap until there it is, a three-car-garage-sized pantry. Shelf after shelf, all the way to the twelve-foot ceiling, filled with everything from beans and rice, to solar powered satellite-connected, well, everything. Solar powered everything.

“You’re…preppers.” Nate is processing.

I am still processing, and I saw it months ago.

“My dad wants us to be preppers. For the end times. And remember I said Shep really loves my dad.”

Nate just stands there for a second, staring. He tucks the hand with the iPad under one elbow and brings his other hand up to cover his mouth in thought. Maybe in horror.

“Yeah.” What else can I say?

He looks down at the door in the floor.

“Storm shelter. A normal one, for tornadoes. But Shep plans to have it expanded into a true bunker. Because”—I gesture around—“all this is, apparently, not enough.” I weave around through the shelves to the mudroom and then the garage door.

“I warned you last night,” I say over my shoulder to him.

“Okay, I guess this is a little weird.”

“Oh,” I say, grabbing the door handle. “It’s about to get weirder.”

17

I open the door to reveal the various sounds and smells. Shep’s three Rottweilers, Harry, Ron, and Hermione, rush at us barking their scary barks.

Nate steps in front of me right away, but it’s clear they’re just happy to see us. Ringo, Sam and Emerson’s Golden Retriever, comes up behind them.

I hit the button to open the fifth garage door, which is off to the side rather than ahead of us like the other four.

“What is…”

“That’s a chicken coup,” I say, my voice filled with dread. No point hiding my true emotions now that it’s just me and the all the creatures. And Nate.

Nate frowns down at his phone. “I only saw stables on the blueprints.”

“Well, the chickens and goats are fairly new.”

“Goat?”

“Goats, plural. This is why I’m here, house sitting.” I look out into the bright summer sun beyond the garage. “Well, homestead sitting.” I lead him through the garage out into the fenced chicken area. “There’s the garden, greenhouse, two horses, two goats, a cow, the chickens, a barn cat, a family of deer, and the dogs, including Sam’s dog because she wanted him to quote ‘be with family’ while they were gone.”

After a minute or two of staring in silence, Nate looks down at me. “But you aren’t an animal person.”

I stare into his eyes, surprised.

He remembers that? He remembers things about me? His frown deepens and he looks back to the fields.

“It’s all right. I have a few weeks before—” I stop myself from saying med school. As if he doesn’t already know my age and true profession.

“You’re telling me they don’t have ranch hands for this place? There were names listed.” He starts tapping through files on the iPad.

“They haven’t found a full-time person to live on the property yet. Leonard takes care of hay and grain, fixes the enclosures—odds and ends.”

“What about this person listed, Regina?”

“She’s the housekeeper and chef. Comes every couple of days to do household stuff.”

“And you?” he asks, not looking up.