Celine and her kids headed down the hill toward thebarn, moving like three chaotic weather systems, each different from the last, anchored by one exhausted mother.
Her long red hair was tied up on top of her head and a halo of curls framed her face. She couldn’t have been more than five feet tall, and she had the wiry muscles of a woman who had carried more than her share of burdens. She was tiny but fierce. A body made by survival, not the gym.
As they made their way to me, she lengthened her strides, stepping in front of them, instinctively forming a protective barrier. Despite the confidence with which she carried herself, fear and hesitation radiated from her. And my instinct told me it had nothing to do with me.
I lifted my hand in a brief acknowledgment. Friendly took energy I couldn’t spare.
“Can we see the animals?” Maggie asked. She was wearing pink shorts and a T-shirt with a cat on it. Her hair was blond, and she eagerly smiled at me as she pushed her glasses up her nose.
“Depends,” I said. “On whether you can follow directions.” Clearing my throat, I put my hands on my hips and assessed them. “Which is still up for debate.”
Ellie rolled her eyes. “Jeez, Maggie. Chill. There are no horses.” She was all in black, and her strawberry blond hair was cut into a blunt, short style around her chin. Celine had mentioned last night that she was twelve, but she had the attitude of a jaded thirty-five-year-old and was already several inches taller than her mother. Behind the façade, though, there was a kid still in there. Maybe it was in the knobby knees and elbows or a flash here and there in her eyes.
“But why?” Maggie asked, scanning our surroundings. “Seems like you’ve got room for horses. They are very versatile animals.”
“This farm is illegit,” Ellie grumbled.
Julian, who was staring intently at Wayne, with a pair of headphones worn around his neck like a scarf, looked at his sister. “I’m pretty sure you could ride this dog if you needed to.”
Wayne sat up a little taller, preening.
Yeah, this would not be a quick and easy afternoon. Dammit. I supposed it wasn’t the first time I’d lied to myself.
I took a breath and attempted to smile at Maggie. “Back in the old days, we had giant draft horses. My grandma loved them and cared for them every day of her life. We’d load the sap from the trees into large buckets on sleds, and the horses would pull them through the snow to the sugar house.”
Maggie perked up, her face brightening. “I knew it. They are useful for everything.”
“But now we drive ATVs and snowmobiles out through the maple stand.”
Her mouth turned down thoughtfully. “What’s a maple stand?”
“A stand is a big group of trees. We’ve got over ten thousand maple trees,” I explained. “We use tubing and other equipment to gather the sap into massive plastic containers and then drive them on the ATV back to the barn.”
“So you killed the horses?” she asked, panic flitting across her features.
“Of course not,” I said, cringing. “They died of old age. They had wonderful retirements filled with treats and lots of brushing.”
She hummed skeptically. “So what animals do you have?”
I looked at Wayne, who was watching me with a nonplussed look. “We have chickens,” I offered.
She scoffed. “Chickens are boring.”
“Untrue,” I offered, rocking back on my heels. “They have complex social structures and do hilarious things. And some of them like to be picked up and cuddled.”
Head tilted, she studied me, her face relaxing a little. “You should think about goats,” she said. “They eat poison ivy.”
I nodded. The last thing I needed was another animal to care for, but goats really were great at taking care of poison ivy, which seemed to have been winning its power struggle with me this year, and my nieces had been going on and on about goats all summer. But if Logan caught wind of that, I’d have a dozen of them by the time I woke up tomorrow.
“Let’s walk up this way.” I nodded toward the largest barn. “I’ll show you around and point out potential dangers.” I added the last part, figuring it would satisfy Celine.
“What does sap taste like?” Ellie asked.
“Like watery maple syrup.” I slipped my phone back into my pocket and took off toward the barn. “The sap is mostly water, which is why it gets boiled down into syrup.”
“Because the water evaporates.” Ellie finished my thought.
“Exactly. It takes forty gallons of sap to make one gallon of maple syrup.”