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  Horace’s hearing was obviously still keen, as he gave his nephew a sharp look. “Who worth their salt starts their work day at eight? Wilbur and I used to get up by four when we still had cows to milk. Hello there, farmer lady.” He gave Melinda a big smile. “What’s on the agenda today?”

  “First is breakfast. Then Ada wants to sort out the upstairs storage room while work hopefully finishes up on the machine shed. The trucks will be here by one, she says, so we’ll have to get the furniture out here and loaded.”

  “Kevin and I measured that stairwell yesterday.” Dave frowned and shook his head. “Man, are those stairs steep. I just hope we don’t have to remove the railing to get the bed and dresser out of Uncle Wilbur’s old room. And that rolltop desk.”

  Horace stopped short on the sidewalk. “No one touches that banister. Grandpa turned those spindles by hand. Someone got that furniture up there years ago; you boys can figure out how to get it down without ripping the house apart.”

  It wasn’t long before the yard was once again filled with vehicles. Once she had everyone fed and caffeinated, Melinda served as Horace’s go-fer while he sorted the bookcases in the living room. It was the one task he could accomplish from the comfort of her reading chair.

  Ada uncovered several family treasures upstairs, including an antique high chair and a set of kerosene dresser lamps far fancier than the ones Melinda relied on during the February ice storm. There were boxes filled with family photos, a few dolls and even an old phonograph player. Jen found the family’s ornate iron Christmas tree stand, which had been missing for years. Once the layers of stuff were removed from the top of the cedar chest in the far corner, its wonderful contents came to light: several delicate patchwork quilts, two elegant ladies’ hats, and a cardboard box that held Anna’s wedding dress. Ada gently laid the heirlooms aside, then she and Jen carried the chest out into the hall.

  “It’ll go in the back of Kevin’s truck,” she told Melinda, who’d rushed upstairs to examine the wedding gown. “And I’ll find someone to preserve mother’s dress. I’d always wondered what happened to it, and it was here all along!”

  After much measuring and deliberating, the guys managed to get most of the upstairs furniture down the narrow stairwell. Melinda had brought her own bed, but the mirrored dresser in her room was there when she arrived. It was nothing fancy, with a dark-varnish finish and simple lines, but she had grown rather attached to it. She hid her smile when Dave said it was too bulky to haul as-is, and they didn’t have time to take the mirror off.

  “Honestly, I don’t want to deal with it.” He put away his tape measure. “And we’ve got to take apart the dining room table to get it out the front door. It’s sure to bring a nice price at the auction.”

  Horace was still sorting books when they returned to the living room. “What are we doing with that quilt in there?” Dave pointed into the downstairs bedroom. “We need to get the frame apart.”

  Horace kept thumbing through a leather-bound book and didn’t look up. “We’re not taking it. The dresser goes, and so does our old couch.” Melinda had wedged the ratty orange-velour piece into the bedroom to make way for her own sofa. “But the bed stays.”

  “I don’t need it,” Melinda protested. “The iron scrollwork is beautiful, and it’s never been painted over. Ron’s housing inspector knows an antiques dealer and he said …”

  “Doesn’t matter.” Horace calmly cut her off. “It’s for Hobo. The quilt, too. That’s his bed.” He turned carefully in the chair to reach for another book. “Comes with the house.”

  Dave rolled his eyes and was about to say something, but Kevin shook his head. Once Horace made up his mind about something, it was done.

  “Well, maybe we can break for lunch before the trucks get here.” Melinda started for the kitchen. “I’ll get things ready.”

  The afternoon was starting to fade by the time the last boxes were loaded. “It’s amazing how much got done in just two days,” Melinda told Kevin as they stood by the picnic table, watching the volunteers pile two truck beds with items for the county recycling center and landfill.

  “Yeah.” Kevin yawned. “But I feel like we’ve left behind as much as we’ve taken. You sure you’re OK with all that stuff still being here? Most of it doesn’t have much value.”

  “Oh, you never know when something might come in handy. And I don’t have that much of my own in storage. It’ll keep the house cozy, if you will. Fill it up.”

  Horace came down the back steps, holding tight to the handrail. “Melinda, I want to see the sheep again before we go.”

  They started across the yard, Melinda slowing her steps to match Horace’s careful gait. Once they made it past the garage, he took a sudden turn and angled toward the machine shed. “Got another stop, first.”

  “Horace, I have to ask. Did you know about the still?” He nodded.

  “Dave and Kevin flipped a coin for it, and Dave’s going to take it home. Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “No need. What’s the point?” He tried, and failed, to get a strong grip on the knob of the shed’s rolling door. Melinda added her push to his pull.

  “Well, I find it fascinating. To think that, almost a hundred years ago, your dad and grandpa were bootleggers. It’s very exciting.”

  There was a twinkle in Horace’s blue eyes. “Oh, the still’s been used since then. Wilbur picked things up when he got home from the war. He was restless after getting out in the world, seeing all the things he had to see in the Army.”

  Melinda was so stunned she couldn’t speak at first. Wilbur?

  “So, what happened?” she finally said.

  “Well, a few years in, he was getting heat from some folks. And one of his big buyers, a roadhouse over south of Eagle River, shut down. He gave it up, decided farming was exciting enough, I guess. I never had any doubt, you know,” Horace added quickly. “See that truck back there?”

  Melinda was still trying to imagine the now-feeble Wilbur as a dashing bootlegger, so it took her a second to catch up to the sudden switch in conversation.

  “Oh, sure. That was your farm truck, right? Dave says it won’t bring much at the sale, but he thinks they can get it started. Every dollar will help.”

  Horace had a faraway look in his eyes that made Melinda’s heart ache. “Drove it everywhere. Hauled hay, straw, feed from the co-op. One time, we even brought a few calves home in the back. Impulse buy, you know. Didn’t have a trailer lined up.” He started to chuckle. “Wilbur drove and I stayed in the back, holding their halters, making sure they didn’t jump out.”

  He reached into the pocket of his canvas coat and pulled out something shiny, then put it in her hand.

  “Horace, you can’t!” Melinda was so startled she nearly dropped the key ring. “I can’t take your truck!”

  “Sure, you can.” He shrugged. “It’s mine to give away, isn’t it?”

  “Well, yes, but I don’t how to drive it. It’s probably a stick. And I don’t really need it, I’ve been getting by just fine with the car.” She left out how her trips to the co-op always ended with Auggie or his assistant trying to wedge fifty-pound bags of oats into her hatchback.

  “Every farmer needs a truck. I called Ed, he’s going to tune it up. And he’ll show you how to drive the dang thing.”

  Melinda squinted into the shadows at the back of the shed, trying to get a better look. The pickup appeared to be tan and white, but it was so dusty, she couldn’t be sure. There was a small dent, way back on the driver’s side, but the truck had a generous flatbed and seemed sturdy enough. With Ed’s help and a good scrubbing, maybe she could see herself behind the wheel.

  “You have to take it,” Horace said simply, sensing her hesitation. “Comes with the house. Ron spelled it all out in the sale papers, remember?”

  Melinda had to admit Horace was right. The purchase agreement clearly stated the transaction included not only the land and buildings, but “any and all items remaining on the p
roperty as agreed upon by the buyer and the seller.” Ron wanted to ensure no Schermann relative could appear on Melinda’s porch and demand anything left behind. And with the farm held in trust and Wilbur suffering from dementia, Horace was in the driver’s seat.

  “OK,” she finally said. “OK, I’ll take the truck. Thank you.”

  “Oh, and I’ve got another set of keys for you.” He reached in his other coat pocket, his hand trembling just a bit. “These are for the house.”

  He was trying to hide them, but Melinda could see the tears in his eyes. She covered his veined hand with both of hers, the farmhouse’s keys now trapped in his palm. “You just keep those.” She had a spare set already, as did her parents; and it was so easy to make more.

  He shook his head and she looked him in the eye. “No, listen, it’s my turn to say how I want things to go. You don’t need to give those away. And besides,” she smiled, “it’s always a good idea to have a friend with a spare key, just in case you get locked out.”

  “Oh.” He looked down, obviously pleased. “Well, fine. Not sure how much help I can be from over in Elm Springs, sitting in my recliner.”

  “Just keep those keys as a reminder that you’re not off the hook.” She patted his arm as they started for the barn. “I’ll be calling you, and stopping by to see both you and Wilbur. Who else can tell me the right way to do things around here?”

  CHAPTER 10

  It was a glorious spring morning, the faintest hint of green showing in the pastures along Melinda’s route to work. The fields were at last clear of snow, but more rain was in the forecast for later that week. Auggie had been in a frenzy, trying to nail down when the threat of frost would pass and how soon the farmers could plant their crops. The co-op had been a hive of activity, so much so that Melinda stocked up on grain and chicken feed in hopes of avoiding the place for at least a few weeks.

  As she marked the last few miles into Prosper, Melinda had to admit Horace was right: she needed a truck. Not only for hauling animal feed, but just about anything else. Ed had come by the other night and, after a thorough assessment, gave the truck a cautious thumbs-up, but it would be a while yet before it was ready to drive.

  Melinda already had one big project in mind. When she moved out of her Minneapolis apartment just before Thanksgiving, she had rented a trailer and dropped her extra furnishings at a storage unit. If Ed got the truck running, she wouldn’t have to find someone to haul her stuff to the farm. She could do as she pleased, and at her own pace.

  Maybe it was just as well she couldn’t bring much home right away. With so many of the Schermanns’ belongings now out of the house, she was knee-deep in spring cleaning. Once the rooms were scrubbed and polished, she would decide which of their left-behinds she wanted to keep and what she might give away. And, she grinned with excitement at this thought, what else she might buy to feather her nest.

  The Schermann family’s auction was, according to Kevin, wonderfully dull. Competition for the dining-room table had been fierce, and it was finally snapped up by an antiques dealer from Waterloo. A few smaller items also went higher than expected, due to the handful of collectors at the sale and a few minor in-family rivalries. Melinda felt bad she missed it due to work, but all that mattered was Horace was satisfied with the proceeds.

  She found herself humming along with the radio as she drove down Main Street. Everything was working out, most of it according to plan. And settled on the passenger seat was a tray of blueberry scones, the perfect treat for such a fine morning.

  But her rambling tune came to a halt the second she hit the brakes. Two utility trucks were parked in front of Prosper Hardware. Men in flame-orange vests and white hardhats were milling about on the curb, unloading equipment.

  Melinda gasped, and then she swore. “What are they doing here? They weren’t supposed to come until Thursday!”

  Fed up with waiting for the landowners next door to respond to several inquiries, Frank and Miriam resigned themselves to ordering a new lot survey on their own. What would happen after that, no one was sure. They were going to break the news to the coffee group this morning, and hoped to grease the skids with the sweet treats Melinda baked last night. But apparently, that was going to be too late.

  And the second sign of trouble soon appeared in her rearview mirror. Before she turned off on Third Street, Melinda could just make out Auggie’s truck pulling out of the co-op’s drive.

  She whipped into the gravel parking lot behind Prosper Hardware, fished out her store keys and ran for the back door.

  “He’ll be here any minute!” She scooted through the wood shop, nearly dropping the plate of scones on the concrete floor. “He’ll blow a gasket when he finds out what’s going on. And Doc, and George and … oh, it’ll be all anyone will talk about for days. And Frank’s going to be pissed.”

  Her heart pounding in her ears, she dropped her things on the counter and texted Miriam with shaking fingers. The surveyors are here! Come ASAP.

  She jumped when one of the engineers knocked on the front door. Taking a deep breath, she slid the deadbolt and tried for a smile that didn’t show her panic.

  “Morning, ma’am.” He stepped into the store, a clipboard in his hand. “We’re here to confirm that variance reported to the county office.” He flipped through some papers and pulled a pen from his vest pocket. “Has anything changed since last week? Anything we need to know?”

  “No, um, nothing that I’m aware of,” she stammered. “It’s still a mess, if that’s what you mean. And it’s going to get worse.”

  Auggie had just parked along the curb and, with amazing speed for someone his age, was already out of his truck and making a bee line for one of the surveyors.

  The foreman only chuckled and made a few notes, his back turned to what was happening outside. “Oh, you’d be surprised how often we get cases like this. Always gets people stirred up. Give us an hour, and we’ll be out of your hair.” He looked closely at Melinda for the first time. “Is everything OK?”

  “No. No, it’s not.” She put her hands over her face, hoping to hear the comforting sound of Miriam’s footsteps coming through the back room. “Very few people in this town, outside of my family, know about this yet. You guys weren’t supposed to be here for two more days.”

  “We’ve got another job over in Eagle River this morning, figured we’d save ourselves a trip.” The man’s tone changed, but Melinda wasn’t sure if he was irritated or just in a hurry. “And honestly, I’m surprised you were able to keep things quiet this long in a town this small. So what, people find out. What’s the problem?”

  “Him.” Melinda pointed out to where Auggie was flapping his arms in frustration, his voice so loud she could hear it through the closed door. “He’s the problem.” She ducked past the crew leader and ran outside.

  “Melinda!” Auggie quickly turned his fury her way, and the surveyor wisely took the opportunity to skitter back to his truck.

  “What the hell is going on? He says he can’t tell me, that it’s private business. That’s a load of crap! It’s a public street, part of the county highway, even. If the city wants to go through with those sidewalk improvements, they need to talk to all the property owners.” Auggie’s face turned an angry red. “This isn’t even legal. The council needs to discuss this in public and vote on it, for God’s sake. Just wait until Jerry gets here, I’m going to …”

  “They aren’t here to measure the sidewalks, Auggie.” She tried to grab Auggie by the arm and give the crew an apologetic smile, but failed at both.

  “Don’t try to cover for Jerry and the council, just because Frank’s on it! I can see plain as day there’s a crew here to do just that. And I bet they aren’t cheap, either. What do you all make an hour these days?”

  He pointed at the youngest guy, who clutched his equipment to his vest and took a small step back. “I bet it’s highway robbery, whatever it is!”

  “Auggie!” Melinda pointed at the door. “Get your bu
tt inside. Right now!”

  Stunned into silence, he gave the crew another glare but did as he was told.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said to the supervisor. “I’m afraid there’s been some … misunderstanding about everything.”

  “Well, my guys are here to do their jobs. Not to be yelled at.” The foreman bit off the ends of his words. “And by the way, that flat fee we quoted? It’s based on the estimated time of completion. If we aren’t allowed to work without interruption, there’s an additional charge. It’s in the fine print of the contract. Clock’s ticking, meter’s running, if you will.”

  “Got it.” Melinda nodded. “I’m so sorry …”

  The roar of another truck, this one splattered with dried mud, interrupted her apology. “Oh, here comes Doc.”

  Doc merely evaluated the situation and raised an eyebrow at Melinda before starting for the door. In his thirty years of veterinary work, he had seen it all and was surprised by nothing.

  “I’ll explain in a bit,” she told him. “Can you see if you can calm Auggie down?”

  Doc laughed. “I doubt it, but I’ll try.”

  “So, are we going to get started, or what?” One of the workers pointed at the front of the store.

  The crew leader slapped his clipboard on his leg. “The sooner, the better.”

  Melinda hurried inside, fearing the worst. Auggie was strangely silent as he gathered the spoons and napkins, but he banged the ceramic cups on the sideboard’s metal counter with obvious fury. She had no idea what Doc had said, but he apparently felt his work was done and was already partway through his first scone.

  “Hey, these biscuits are something.” He wiped one hand on his jeans, which were still clean at this early hour. “Those blueberries taste like fresh, not frozen.”

  Auggie stormed off toward the utility sink, and Doc lowered his voice. “He’s so frazzled he almost forgot to start the coffee. I told him to calm down, and await instructions.”