Goodnight Moo Page 3

  Schuyler drove off waving.

  Brynn turned to watch the little furry cow. She stood in the field, awestruck. Brynn wanted to comfort her but figured it was best to wait. She didn’t want to frighten her any more than she already was.

  Brynn made her way into the house, where cinnamon scent wafted and drew her into the kitchen.

  “French toast this morning,” Wes said as he put the plates on the table.

  “Yum,” Brynn said. She moved to the kitchen sink and washed her hands, even though she’d already washed them in the barn, and then sat down at the table and checked out the food. “That’s an odd-looking French toast.”

  “It’s stuffed with ricotta cheese I made,” he said as he sat down across from her.

  “Fresh ricotta cheese! You’re getting to be quite the cheesemaker.”

  He flashed a grin. “That’s what I’m here for.”

  “Have you heard from Max?” Brynn asked as she cut her stuffed French toast.

  He nodded. “Yes, he loves his internship. Says he’s learning a lot and having a great time in New York.” Wes’s brother, Max, was a business major and was enjoying the whole college experience. Wes had had a hard time with it and had wanted to be a chef, but his parents weren’t thrilled. Brynn counted his confusion as her blessing. When he saw her cheesemaking operation while he stayed with Brynn during his grandmother’s funeral, he fell in love with the place and being a cheesemaker. His parents supported his move—he was failing school and wasting their money. When Brynn bit into the stuffed French toast, her taste buds exploded with joy. She swallowed. “God, Wes, that’s delicious.”

  “Thanks. Glad you like it. Tillie and Roy tried it out the other day and liked it, too. How’s the new cow?”

  She swallowed the next bite. “She’s very skinny and very shy.” The cow’s sweet, shaggy face played in Brynn’s mind. “But I think she’ll be okay.”

  “Busy day ahead,” Wes said, sliding over a sheet of paper containing the list of action items for the fair.

  Brynn put down her fork. “First things first. We need to inspect the cheese shed to make sure the refrigeration’s correct.”

  “I can do that. Why don’t you take care of calling all the contestants for the last-minute check-in?”

  Brynn nodded. “Sounds good.” They had also volunteered to make pies to sell. “When should we bake? Tonight?”

  “I’ve gotten two peach pies baked already. We need to make the chocolate ones.”

  “Great,” Brynn said, and lifted a bite to her mouth. “We’ll make the chocolate ones tonight.” They planned to bake them last night, but she and Wes had gotten the call about the accident. A knot formed in her stomach. She tried not to reflect on the tragedy. But, with each passing moment, it was getting harder. None of it made any sense.

  But then again, accidents never did. Did they?

  Chapter 6

  In between phone calls, Brynn took quick breaks and peeked out of the window to check on Jewel. She’d been standing in the same corner for hours. The dog had startled her. Not all cows liked dogs. Brynn had worried about that with her own cows, but the stray had wormed her way in, especially with Petunia. In fact, she’d made a huge difference to the grieving cow. People said animals weren’t sensitive beings. Those people needed to spend time on a small farm, like hers, and get to know them and their quirks.

  Now Brynn witnessed the sweet little Highland cow eating the grass and hay mix Brynn placed there for her. That was a good sign.

  A rolling hillside swooped up, over, and behind her backyard field, on the other side of which was the church that had burned down. A group of locals had formed a country church foundation and were raising funds to rebuild the place. And it was coming along.

  The house Brynn lived in was the old rectory from years ago. The church hadn’t been active for generations, which was why her friend Nancy bought it, lived in the basement, and planned to renovate it into a farm shop. That didn’t work out and Brynn was still mourning the loss of her good friend Nancy.

  Revitalizing the church was a good idea—so much better than living next to an empty building.

  A phone call from Wes interrupted her thoughts. “There’s a problem with the shed. There’s no AC, and I specifically asked for it.”

  “Can we get it at this late juncture?” Brynn asked, glancing out the window to her grazing cows.

  “I hope so. I’ve raised enough of a fuss. But the contestants are bringing their cheese here by tomorrow at noon. They won’t be able to install the AC until tomorrow morning.”

  “Can we get a few window units on our own?”

  “It’s against the contract.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah, only the rental company can install window units. Insurance or some excuse like that. Let’s remember this next year and find another company.”

  “Absolutely.” Brynn didn’t want to go into the whole rigmarole of trying to find a shed rental company that would even talk about bringing a shed to the Shenandoah Valley. It’d add to the stress of the moment. “Well, let’s hope they mean early in the morning.”

  “I’ve told them that. If they don’t, I say we don’t pay the whole rental fee. They’ve screwed this up.”

  Brynn agreed. But she also believed in giving people chances. “Let’s give them the benefit of the doubt for now. If they don’t get it done early, I’ll have words with them.”

  “I ran into Willow.” Brynn heard the car door open.

  She walked over and sat back down at the kitchen table, where her list of cheesemakers sat. Two more calls left on the list. “How is she?”

  “Not good. She’s still shaken.” He paused. “I’ve heard strange rumors. Like that Josh had threatened Evan. I can see a father stepping into this situation. But Josh? He’d not intentionally hurt anybody. I don’t get it.”

  Brynn thought of her own father during her teenage years. He went a little crazy about the boys visiting the house for her, though there weren’t many. She didn’t date much. She often wondered if she’d dated and gotten serious with someone in high school how her father would have reacted. “Dads can be overprotective.”

  “As they should be,” he said. Brynn heard the car door shut, and the car started. “I’m a guy. I know.” He laughed.

  “You’re one of the good ones,” Brynn said.

  “Thanks.” He laughed even more. “Not sure my parents would agree.”

  After they hung up, Brynn called Willow. “You should come over tonight for some of the best tomato sauce I’ve ever eaten in my life.”

  “Just tomato sauce?” Willow said.

  “Well, no, over pasta. We ate it last night and talk about a foodgasm.”

  Willow paused. “Well, who can pass up a foodgasm? Besides, I can use the company tonight.”

  “You know you don’t need an invitation, right?” Brynn said with a more serious tone than she meant.

  “I know, but . . . I hate to barge in on people. Schuyler’s got the market cornered on that.” She laughed.

  “Yes, but you can’t help but love her,” Brynn said. Perhaps she’d invite Schuyler, too. Maybe not. Maybe Willow needed to eat and have a quiet dinner with friends, relaxing. Schuyler would inject another brand of energy. Not that Brynn didn’t love her. But Willow might need some extra care.

  “How’s the craft hall shaping up?” Brynn asked.

  “Not bad. There are some talented people around here. How do they find the time to quilt and crochet and all of that stuff, let alone do it so well? Listen, I’ve got to go. I’ll see you tonight.”

  “Great,” Brynn said, clicking off.

  She remembered the Parmesan cheese she’d had aging in the basement. Tonight would be a perfect night to try it.

  She hoped tonight would help Willow forget about the hideous accident she witnessed—even if just for a little while. Good food, wine, a special cheese to go along with it all, along with the relaxing company, should help Willow’s spirits
. At least Brynn hoped it would.

  Chapter 7

  Brynn opened the makeshift pen for Jewel. The other cows were curious and had followed her to the corner of the field where the new cow stood. Freckles kept a respectful distance. The new cow was different looking—smaller, shaggy—and Freckles had tried to make friends once and must have sensed the cow’s fear. In any case, the dog would not push it. Brynn was glad.

  The cow sniffed at Freckles and made her way through the small group onward to a shady patch of the field. She was hot. Brynn sympathized. The girls followed behind her.

  Relieved it was going as well as she expected at this point, Brynn turned and moved into the house to clean up and see about supper. Willow would be here any minute.

  * * *

  When she arrived, Brynn saw that she still had a haunted air about her. Pale and forlorn-looking, Willow’s normally beautiful mocha skin held a hue of shock or sickness. “My God, it smells good in here!” She entered the kitchen with a bottle of red wine.

  “Wes has been busy making this incredible tomato sauce from fresh tomatoes. It’s amazing.” Brynn reached into the cupboard and pulled out plates. She set the table, glancing out the window at Jewel, off alone in the shady corner, sitting on the ground. The others weren’t ignoring her, just going about their own business.

  Willow stood next to Wes at the stove. She drew in the scent. “Heavenly. My mom used to can tomatoes and make a sauce from it. She stopped when her arthritis got to be too bad. But it makes a world of difference.”

  Brynn pulled down wineglasses from the cabinet and set one at each place. “Have you seen the cow Schuyler dropped off?”

  “What?” Willow turned and walked over to the picture window and gasped. “That’s Jewel! Oh my gosh!”

  “You know her?”

  “She belonged to Lucy Rhodes. Lived up in the hollow. She was a friend of my mom. She was a schoolteacher and kept cows and chickens but then got sick after she retired.”

  “She died and left Jewel behind.” Brynn set the last glass on the table. “I guess she couldn’t take care of her. I’ll fatten her up and help Schuyler find a new home for her.”

  “Pasta is done,” Wes said, bringing the bowl to the table.

  “Oh, let me help you,” Willow said.

  “I got it,” he replied. “Please, just sit down.”

  The dinner conversation shifted from food and cows to Lucy Rhodes’s English class. It was as if they were tiptoeing around the elephant (or cow) in the room. Brynn didn’t know if it was good to discuss the accident or talk about other things to keep Willow’s mind off what she’d witnessed. She figured it was best to let her friend take the lead. Willow had been such a good friend to her, introducing her to the community, especially the members of the CSA, which Brynn had become a part of, and she filled Brynn in on all she needed to understand about the locals. She was the most helpful person Brynn had met when she’d moved to Shenandoah Springs.

  And when Nancy died, Brynn didn’t know what she would have done without the support of both Willow and Schuyler, not to mention Wes and Max, Nancy’s grandsons.

  “You’re a lot like your grandmother,” Willow said, smiling at Wes.

  Startled, Wes grinned. “What?”

  “She was a great cook and embraced the farm to table movement. She must have influenced you in a fantastic way.”

  He batted his eyes as a winsome look played over his face. “You know . . . you’re right. I’d never thought about it. But I was close to my gram. Some of the best memories I have of her are when we were in the kitchen together. She even tried to make Pakistani food and did a good job. Though we were adopted when we were babies and I don’t remember anything about the place, she thought it was important that we maintained some cultural connection.”

  Willow nodded. “I get that. I barely recognize the Native American side of my family. But my mom always cooked traditional dishes for me. And then there are the other things. The stories. The mythology. All of it.”

  “Yes, Mom always made sure we were aware of Pakistani culture, though I’m an American, not Pakistani. I don’t remember anything about Pakistan. It’s kind of weird.” He shrugged.

  “Would you like more cheese?” Brynn asked, holding up the finely shredded Parmesan cheese.

  “Yes! Are you kidding?” Willow beamed. She took a sip of her wine.

  They each took more cheese and sprinkled it on their pasta.

  “This is so nice,” Willow said. “I can’t tell you how much it means. I don’t mind living alone most times. But these days . . . it’s good to have company.”

  “How are you doing with everything?” Wes asked.

  “When I close my eyes at night, I still see the accident playing in my mind. Josh on the big green tractor. His arms wildly trying to steer the tractor, yelling at people to get back. And Evan caught beneath the wheel.”

  “Why was he so close to the tractor? I don’t understand.” Brynn twirled spaghetti around her fork.

  Willow stopped buttering her bread. “I’m not sure. I think he dropped something. He was crouching over into the dirt.”

  “It makes no sense. Why would he get that close to the tractor when Josh was yelling for people to get away?”

  “I’ve asked myself that question a million times,” she replied with a somber tone.

  “And also,” Brynn said after swallowing her spaghetti. “Why was he telling people to get back? What was going on?”

  “He said he lost control of the tractor,” Willow said, her eyes meeting Brynn’s. “That’s one of the hardest things for me to swallow. He’s been driving tractors since he was a kid. He knows tractors.”

  “Perhaps there was something wrong with it,” Wes said, and sipped from his wineglass.

  Brynn remembered the emotion that played out over the tractor salesman’s face at the fairground. “It was a brand-new tractor, evidently. I met the guy who sold it to him at the fairground when we took the quilts over.”

  “The new tractors are amazing. They’re sleek, sophisticated machines,” Willow said. “It’s hard to imagine him losing control. The older ones are harder to manage.”

  “I’m sure the police will be all over that tractor,” Wes said.

  Willow reached for more bread. “I hope they find something wrong with it. Or else our friend Josh is in deep trouble.”

  A shiver moved up and down Brynn’s spine. Difficult to imagine Shenandoah Springs with one of its most vital community members in prison for murder.

  Chapter 8

  The next morning after taking care of the cows and eating breakfast, Brynn and Wes parted. Brynn went to the fairground and Wes headed to several homes to pick up last-minute craft, pie, or cheese entries.

  Brynn strolled through the fairground, pleased by how it was coming together. She remembered when she was here last with her ex-fiancé, Dan, and how much they enjoyed it—a real country fair, with displayed crafts, baked goods, animals, gardening, and tractor contests. All in good fun.

  She walked by the colorful carnival trucks. A crew scrambled setting up the Ferris wheel, which was one of the most popular rides. Banners lined the fairway, with lights attached. A radio blared country music as she walked by, finding her way to the cheese shed, with a basket of linens. When she walked in, frigid air met her. Holy smokes! The place had ice on the wall!

  She dialed Wes as she opened her basket.

  “Yes, Brynn?”

  She laid the table linen on the shelves. “Did you speak with the shed people?”

  “Yes, I asked them to lower the temperature because it was too warm in the shed,” Wes answered.

  Brynn took a breath. “Well, they did exactly as you asked. But it’s too low. There’s ice on the walls.” She smoothed over the linen on each shelf and shivered.

  “What?” Wes asked through the receiver. Brynn heard the car door slam in the background. “Did you say ice on the walls?”

  “Yes, I did. I’ll give them anot
her call,” she said, exasperated. Two more shelves to line with her linen. She hurried to get it done.

  “No. I’ll call them. Let me deal with them.”

  Brynn hesitated, only because he was so busy running around today. “Are you sure?” She placed the linen on the next shelf.

  “Yes, positive.” He paused. “I have two more stops to make; then I’m done.”

  She finished as fast as possible. She couldn’t stand another minute in the freezing shed.

  “Well, you’re moving right along, aren’t you?” She stepped out of the shed, shut the door, and locked it. “We need to set up tomorrow. The fair starts in two days.”

  “It will be okay.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “It’s the first year this has ever been done here, right? Nobody has anything to compare it to. Whatever we do they will love,” Wes said firmly.

  Brynn smiled. “Okay, whatever you say.” But she was more concerned with the health and safety aspect of eating cheese not stored at the right temperature. It could get funky. She shivered as her body warmed up to the heat outside of the shed. “See you soon.”

  “Okay,” Wes said, and clicked off.

  She walked around the corner and saw a trailer with horses inside. A man walked by them and opened the door of the trailer. He smiled up at Brynn. She smiled back, sad for the horses on this hot day. She was certain he was leading them into the barn, though, where there was probably a great deal of water and it was definitely cooler than in one of those trailers.

  Brynn walked by the tractor tent. At least five tractors were there already. Colorful and shiny. Not the old, clunky tractors she recalled, but those tractors ran for generations. Old and clunky—but sturdy.

  The dealership had several signs displayed about financing, sales awards, and information about their tractors.

  “Can I help you?” a voice said from behind her, startling her.

  “Oh! No, I was looking at the sleek new tractors. They’re very pretty,” Brynn said, and smiled.

  “Thank you. I’m David Reese. I think we’ve met, a few days ago.”