This fiction was pulled down recently for rewriting – there were a couple of plotholes going on within it so it had to be dealt with.
This is the sequel to my well reviewed fiction "Sheriff of my Heart" – I thoroughly recommend you read that one before you delve into this! And as always, please remember to leave a review if you enjoy!. ~ DC
It was early autumn, just a little after the trees around the farm had started to shed their first leaves.. The acreage was still and quiet, except for a figure walking across in the bitter chill, jacket wrapped around his frame tightly, brown hair blown by the wind. Stepping off the fields, the figure made its way across the gravel drive, around an old beaten up truck, and ascended the stairs of the farmhouse.
Shutting the door firmly behind him, Woody turned into the room, scanning the surroundings as he shrugged his jacket off his shoulders.
"You're back."
The delicate tones of his wife met his ears as he slung the jacket over the metal peg on the wall inside the door. "I told you I wouldn't be long," he called through to the slim woman in the next room. He could just see her removing a baking dish of some kind from the oven.
"Everything alright?" Her back remained to him, blonde hair waving down her back as she dropped vegetables around the meat in the baking pan, returning the whole thing to the oven to cook.
"Fine. Got the second barn finished just in time for the icy spell, I'd say." Woody returned, settling himself into a comfortable chair not too far from where the fireplace was – a roaring fire crackled there.
"I'm glad you hired some of the men from the village."
Woody glanced up at his wife's words. Bo stood not far from him in the doorway, wiping her hands absentmindedly on the apron she wore around her waist.
"Me too. I don't think Buzz and I would have finished it nearly halfway on our own. I had to make sure the animals were okay. We couldn't keep the sheep and the cattle altogether anymore."
"You sure we can afford the expense?" Bo asked, coming to sit in the chair opposite her husband.
"Well, the farm's doing pretty well, still. I admit since that other farm across the fields starting producing dairy too for the neighbouring village too, it's been hard…but we'll pull through." Woody said confidently.
"I don't know, Woody. I see an awful lot of people in town buying those Steedle products." Bo fretted aloud, her brow wrinkling.
"But people also buy Cattlesum," Woody pointed out. "What's more, they come direct to the farm to buy too. I don't see that happening with Steedle."
"That was one family last month," Bo's voice rose an octave. "People don't drive the dirt tracks so much when they can buy it from the village, Woody, you know that."
"One family is better than none," Woody said placidly. His eyes fixed on Bo. "I am not going to let the farm suffer. I made a promise to Mr Hayward, and I intend to keep it." He breathed deeply at the mention of the now deceased man who he owed so much to.
At that moment the timer on the oven pinged and made them both jump. Woody chuckled, settling right back into his chair, as Bo went to check on the food.
He didn't settle for long. A few minutes later the farmhouse door banged open letting in an almighty draft. Woody's head shot up to see his stable hand Jessie there, with his general farmhand, Buzz, just behind her, closing the door.
The icy blast locked firmly outside, the two of them proceeded to shed jackets, hats and scarves rapidly. Jessie was first to fling herself down into a chair, shivering a little, her long red hair braided as usual, her white long sleeved shirt covered with small pieces of straw. Her jeans were slightly grubby from her working in the stables, and she wore maroon coloured boots, which she now kicked off as she sat, revealing cow print socks.
Buzz flopped down in the comfortable chair besides Woody. He was wearing dark slacks, and a green and white striped sweater. His hair was matted and tangled from the harsh October winds.
"Everything alright with the horses?" The question fell from Woody's lips, breaking the silence.
"Fine." Jessie murmured, casting a look at Buzz.
"Never been better," Buzz responded, shifting in his seat.
Woody wondered at the attitude sparked by the simple question. In the next bout of silence that could be followed, there was a varying array of clatters and bangs from the kitchen, then they heard Bo calling that dinner was ready.
Like a toy army, the three of them rose and filed into the kitchen. Only the sight of the table caused them all to widen their eyes and voice their appreciation.
In front of them lay a full cooked dinner. In the middle of the table sat a hot dish with a joint of gammon in it, soaking in a deep puddle of gravy and assorted vegetables. There was a large dish of potatoes, and then three more vegetables in other dishes scattered around the table. There was also a water jug, which Woody took and began filling the glasses as Buzz and Jessie seated themselves. Removing himself from the table area under the pretence of re filling the now nearly empty jug, Woody took the opportunity to slip over to Bo.
"Any idea what's up between those two?" He asked quietly, shooting a backwards glance to the couple at the table. Buzz, he now noticed, had placed his hand gently over Jessie's and seemed to be speaking to her in the same tones he was presently using to talk to Bo.
"No idea," Bo responded, dropping a spoon with a clatter in the sink. "Now go and eat, and stop worrying."
Chastised somewhat by his better half, Woody returned to the table. Jessie was in the middle of helping herself to some vegetables, and Buzz was sitting there watching her fondly.
"I assume you would like me to carve then," Woody stated, picking up a sharp knife from near the dish where the meat sat bubbling still in its gravy.
"If you don't mind," Buzz said, still fixed on watching Jessie as she speared baby carrots from a bowl in front her.
With a sigh, Woody began to cut the meat as Bo settled down into a seat. He served Buzz, then Jessie, then Bo with the succulent gammon, accompanied by a spoonful of rich gravy, and then they all dove on the assorted dishes, passing bowls and settling down to eat, Bo insisting first that they all say grace.
Five minutes into the meal, Jessie excused herself and left the room. They heard her loud footsteps on the stairs – it seemed that even with socks on she managed to make a racket.
Woody shot a glance at Buzz, who avoided the gaze and went right on eating as if nothing had happened. Woody frowned, and went to get up, but Bo stopped him with a look of her own. Woody subsided and settled back into the dining chair under him, but not without vowing to himself to find out what this newest disagreement was about later.