The next day went pretty much as I expected. The Cullens arrived just after breakfast dressed in designer jeans that looked like they’d been starched and pressed. Esme’s coat wasn't fur, but it was an unfamiliar fabric that was really soft when she hugged me. I was pleased with her greeting and unwilling to begin the day on the wrong track, so I let go all of my preconceived ideas and acted like this wasn’t a working ranch that had several things waiting to be done.
Seth had fed the animals that morning, but left the rest of their care for me to show the Cullens. Edward and I headed out to the new pen next to the horse barn, excited about our recent additions. We were lucky that the snow hadn’t stuck, but it was especially muddy as a result.
“Are those pigs?” Esme asked with a wrinkle to her nose as we approached. They didn't smell too great, but they were cute little pink weaners.
“Yep,” Edward answered with a grin. “And don't lean on that fence, it’s electric.”
“These are new. I’ve been wanting pigs for awhile, and I had enough money finally after the sales of my pies went through the roof.”
“Whatever for?” Carlisle asked with a look of utter distaste. He stopped several feet shy of the pen.
“Oh, their benefits are numerous. They eat all our scraps and provide us with fertilizer. After a few months I’ll move this pen down a ways and they’ll have left me with a lovely space to garden in, already tilled and fertilized. When it’s time for the butcher, they’ll bring in a great income.” Not that I would mention it to them, but the sale of one pig would pay for my upcoming wedding. The other two would occupy my freezers.
Esme nodded as I spoke as though she clearly understood every word. Well, maybe she did. She was more open to all of this than her husband was.
“Watch this,” Edward said, and I rolled my eyes because I knew what was coming. “Jimmy Dean, sit.”
The pig closest to him plopped its butt down like a dog following commands. I had to try hard not to giggle at the name he’d given the piglet.
“Good. Now lay.” The pig obeyed, and I looked over to see one of the others following instructions, too.
“Look, Edward, Princess Pig is listening.”
“Too bad Lord Pigsley never listens. You're first on the breakfast table, young man!”
Carlisle was definitely not impressed, so I moved on. “Do you like horses?”
“Yes, they’re beautiful. May we see yours?” Esme said.
I smiled and led them into the barn. It was much warmer in there, due to the heaters and the horses themselves. It smelled pleasant because Seth had recently mucked all of the stalls. We stopped at each stall while I gave the horse’s name and sex, and Esme really was pleased with them. She cooed at them like they were her grandbabies instead of my horses, and stroked their cheeks and shoulders, depending on which horse and how close they came. When Maria stuck her head over the stall door before we got close, Carlisle went off on his own to visit. I considered issuing a warning, but I decided to see what he would do if I didn't. When he wasn't acting superior or stiff, he wasn't a bad man. Maria huffed air through her nostrils and nodded a few times. Carlisle reached out a hand, and she made a low sound, but stood still with her head dipped. He scratched her on the poll and I knew she’d be his friend from then on.
“That’s her favorite spot,” I said as I came up beside them while he still scratched between her ears.
“She’s an attractive animal,” he commented.
“Yes, she is.” He always sounded formal when he spoke, and I wondered for the hundredth time if it was because he was uncomfortable or just an ass.
“How long have you lived here, Ms. Swan?”
“It’s Bella, please. I don't like reminders of my deceased husband, as he was a horrible human being.”
“All right.” His voice was low as he dropped his hand but didn't look at me. I spotted Edward and Esme spoiling Lucy across the aisle.
“I have lived here all my life. This farm has been in my family since this state was known as Oklahoma Territory.”
“And you’ve run it on your own for how long?”
He wasn't looking at me as he questioned me, but at Maria. I noticed Edward was watching us, so I shook my head at him so he wouldn't interfere. “My father passed when I was a girl. I was ten. When I was seventeen, my mother was diagnosed with end-stage renal cancer. She panicked, assuming that the farm and house and myself would be turned over to the state if she died before I became a legal adult. She put an ad in the Buffalo Gazette, our county seat, asking for an eligible man to take care of her daughter and run the ranch.” I took a deep breath in order to smile through my pain. “Unfortunately for me, the fifty-year-old man she married me to thought he had hit pay dirt with a young virgin and a profitable farm. He ran the farm into the ground. Hell, he ran me into the ground while he was at it.”
“I apologize for bringing up bad memories.” Carlisle glanced at me, but it was brief.
“Look, I understand that you’re leery of what you don't understand, and why shouldn't you be? Your only son changed his life’s goal without consulting you, and that has to affect you. But Edward wasn't happy in that life, Mr. Cullen. He gave it a try, and it didn't fit. My ranch may be another world than the one you’re used to, but that doesn't make it any less valid. I worked myself to the bone before Edward came to help me over the summer. When he left, I had the money to hire help, to buy an electric butter machine, and to pay off all of the debts my late husband accrued. Everything you see here, I own it outright. I don't owe anybody anything, not money, and not explanations. And that includes you.”
He finally faced me, and I could see that I’d angered him. “You don't know a thing about my son.” The words were pushed out through teeth ground so tightly together it was a miracle his jaw didn't snap from the force.
My hands shook. “That’s where you’re wrong. I know that he’s kind, and that he puts himself last, and that he works hard. I know that he got his work ethic from you, and that he has a brilliant mind for finances and anything else he sets it to. I know that he loves this land we’re standing on as though it has been in his family for generations rather than mine. I know that he feels free here, like he has a purpose in life when he’s working on this farm and expanding my side business with me. I know that he’s proud of me, and that he—he—”
“I love her,” Edward said. He raised my chin with his fingers and wiped away the tears that had cropped up.
“Hey,” I said to him, because I didn't know what else to say. I hadn't even realized that he and Esme were standing with us now. Maria moved restlessly in her stall at the tension she felt.
“Jesus.”
“Yeah, Dad, I knew you’d have some sort of ugly reaction. The thing is, I’m going to marry Bella.” He was looking at me the entire time he spoke, his fingers still under my chin and moving tenderly.
“Edward, I think it’s wonderful,” Esme said with a bit of emotion clouding her voice.
“Of course you do,” Carlisle muttered.
“Um, the chickens,” I said, still looking up into Edward’s eyes and realizing belatedly that I wasn't speaking in full sentences.
He chuckled. “Yes, they were next on the list.” He looked over at his mother. “Unless you’d like a trail ride?”
“Oh, could we?” She sounded positively giddy.
“Absolutely,” I told her, sniffing a little and breaking away from the intense look in Edward’s eyes. I noticed that Carlisle was still staring a hole through my head, but if we had to spend the rest of their trip ignoring him, so be it.
Seth came into the barn like he’d been lurking outside and offered to saddle four horses for us. Rusty had been following him all day and ambled in to the barn behind him, only to plop down in a ray of sun shining on a pile of straw. Esme linked her arm through mine and walked me a few paces away.
“I’m so proud of you for standing up to my husband. Edward was telling me a bit of your story at the same time you were talking to Carlisle. I’m sorry I was a little standoffish yesterday, but I am so far out of my comfort zone, Bella. I admire what you’ve done here, and the work you put in every day.”
“I appreciate that, Mrs. Cullen.”
“Oh God, please call me Esme, or hell, even Mom.”
I laughed a little crazily. “You’re only a decade older than me. I don't think I can call you Mom.”
She patted my arm. “Esme it is.”
“Why don't I show you the chickens while Seth and Edward are saddling our horses? I need to collect their eggs.”
“I would love that.”
So I showed her how I lifted the back wall to expose the nests and collect any eggs that were there. I kept baskets near the coop to make the job easier, and she held one for me while I reached in. Esme wasn't keen on being pecked on the back of the hand, though I tried to reassure her the only hens I had currently were docile. The old biddy that had pecked Edward relentlessly the first time had passed away.
“And what do you do with them now? Take them into the house to the fridge?” she asked.
“No, fresh eggs don't require refrigeration. I can leave them on the counter in my egg skelter for the week. I use them every day for breakfast and in baking, so they don't have time to go bad.”
“But…”
I could tell by the look on her face that she was confused and trying to figure out what to say. “Freshly laid eggs have a protective coating on them. As long as I don't wash them until I use them, they’re safe. Store bought eggs have been power washed and sanitized, and that leaves room for bacteria to get in between the tiny pores on the shell. I have a holder that looks like a spiral so that the fresher eggs go in on the top, and when I choose an egg from the bottom, I know I’m getting the oldest egg first.”
“Okay, um, thank you for explaining that to me.”
I tried really hard not to laugh at her, but there she was in her fancy jacket and pressed jeans, sneakers with mud covering the logo that declared how expensive they were, and extensively styled and sprayed hairdo. Compared to my broken-in boots and black cargo pants—because I utilized the pockets, not because they’d ever been in style—my fleece-lined denim jacket and french braid, it was beyond clear she had never contemplated where her food came from. I also realized that laughing at her would put me on the same level as Carlisle, so I sobered up quickly.
“No problem. I know that it’s not the sort of thing that’s thought about unless you’re a rancher.”
The smile she gave me was my reward for being able to hold in my laughter.
Our ride was interesting. Edward rode Maria since he was officially a pro, and I rode Harley, the young colt I typically used to stud with my mares. Esme was on a gentle horse named Marshmellow, because he wasn't excitable in the slightest, and Carlisle rode a gelding that was getting up there in age. Carlisle sat stiff as a board in his saddle and ignored my warnings to loosen up his knees while we were simply ambling along. While good posture was helpful to avoid being sore, his knees were going to ache like a bitch when he dismounted Blaze. Esme listened with rapt attention to every word I uttered, lifting in the saddle when she went over a fallen branch. Edward and I stopped so we could move the good sized limb, but Esme had reached it before I saw it in time to stop. Marshmellow was going to keep right on going whether she wanted him to or not, so the least I could do was give a warning.
“Oh, honey, be careful!” Esme called as Edward and I bent at the knees to lift the log. I wasn't sure who she was speaking to, so I didn't reply.
When we had it up off the ground, one of us at each end, we walked it over to the trees that lined the path we were taking and dropped it. Esme watched our every interaction; for instance, the way Edward needed to help me back up in my saddle by placing his hands on my butt. Despite the fact that I had been riding since I was a little girl and mounting alone since I was seven, I loved that he helped me.
The longer we rode, the more Carlisle shifted in his seat. “Are you all right, Mr. Cullen?” I asked innocently. His rear end was probably on fire.
“Yes, thank you,” he said politely. Esme had given him a tongue lashing while I had taken the eggs into the house. I’d heard them, or rather her, as I opened the back door to come back out.
“What did you say the acreage is, dear?” Esme asked as she looked at me.
“Fifteen hundred.”
Carlisle groaned and then coughed to cover it up.
“Don't worry, Dad, we’re not covering the entire ranch. You’ve only seen about ten acres.”
Esme’s eyes widened. “Really?”
“Yes.” I nodded. “It is much bigger than what you’ve seen. There’s a creek, fallow fields so that I can rotate my crops, pastures that I take the steers to for grazing, and training paddocks for the horses. I have a large enclosed field for the horses to roam, as well. We’ve truncated much of our chores today for your sake.”
“You mean you do more than what you’ve showed us?”
I smiled at Esme’s incredulity. “Yes. Seth has been a great help. He’s mostly worked with the horses, steers, and dairy cows for me today. He moved the steers out for grazing, there’s fifty head currently. All of the heifers have to be milked or they get sore from full udders. The horses have been fed and watered for the morning, their stalls have been cleaned and given fresh straw, and Seth will be taking those that we aren't riding out to the field right about now for exercise. He fed the chickens and the pigs, and after lunch he’ll either check my winter garden or make butter. After that we have to feed all the animals dinner and clean the stalls again.”
“It’s not even noon, Bella! He’s done all of that?”
“Yeah, Mom, and Bella did it all alone before I came out for the summer. She and I did it over the summer, and then she and Seth handled it until I returned. There’s also planting and harvesting; corn, wheat, and barley. She has an apple orchard and pear trees, a vegetable garden and some other fruit like figs and berries. She cans her own food, makes all of her meals from scratch, and now she makes jams and pies to sell.”
Even Carlisle was looking at me like I had three heads. My face flamed. “What?”
“I just didn't understand the scope of it until now,” Esme murmured, glancing at her husband.
“I tried to tell you,” Edward said. “But I knew I would have to show you for you to fully understand.”
No one had anything else to say as we headed back to the house for lunch. I hoped Carlisle would think about everything we'd showed him so far… and remove the stick he appeared to be impaled with.
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