“Can I help you with the chicken house tomorrow?” she asked.
“I would love to have your help.”
“Great.” She stood and for one crazy, heart-pounding moment, Clark thought she was going to bend down and kiss him. She didn’t. She said, “There’s a position vacant at The Daily Planet at present. I could have a word with Perry White on your behalf if you wanted me to.” She turned and walked out the door, then poked her head back around the corner. “But I honestly couldn’t say if that would increase your chances of getting the job or utterly destroy them.”
Then she was gone.
Leaving Clark grappling with the certain knowledge that whether he farmed or whether he worked at The Daily Planet or any other newspaper – it was immaterial.
The only thing that mattered was being with Lois.
Chapter 7
It was just after 7:30 when Lois awoke the next morning. She leapt out of bed and showered in less than five minutes, worried that Clark would have gone without her or that she had delayed him.
She ran down the stairs, still pulling on her sweater.
Clark was at the bench making sandwiches.
“Good morning,” he said, shooting her a full-throttle smile that lit up the room.
“I slept in,” Lois said. “I’m sorry. I hope I haven’t made you late.” She looked around the kitchen. “Where’s Martha?”
“She’s out picking more apples, so they’ll have plenty to do this morning.”
“She hasn’t cancelled Anna?”
“No.”
“Good,” Lois said. “I was worried she would change her mind.” She nodded to the sandwiches. “Are they for our lunch?”
“Yes. But you’ve been saved from the chicken coop.”
“I have?”
“My neighbour, Wayne Irig, called. One of our steers in the far field has an injured leg.”
“Are you calling a vet?”
“Not yet. I’m going to take a look. And while I’m there, I’ll check the cattle and the fences.”
“Is it OK if I come with you?”
“I’m counting on it.”
His quiet words and accompanying smile sent her spirits soaring. “What do you need me to do?”
“Open and close the gates. That will save a lot of time. And an extra pair of hands could prove very useful, depending on what we find." He paused from packing the sandwiches into a container. "Is that OK?”
“Of course.” Lois cut two slices from Martha’s loaf. “I’ll get some coffee and toast. When do you want to leave? Can I help with lunch?”
“Twenty minutes? Will that give you enough time?”
“Yes, plenty.”
“Lunch is nearly done. Relax and enjoy your breakfast.”
“It’s going to be a quick breakfast,” Lois told him, “Because I want to go and check on Bess before we leave.”
Clark pointed a knife at her, grinning widely. “Better watch out, Lois. You’re turning into a farmer.”
Lois grinned right back and did a pirouette. “I’ve even got the clothes now.”
“I noticed them,” he said. “All they need are a few stains, half a million hayseeds, and a couple of rips from barbed wire and you’ll look like a real farmer.”
They were sharing a smile when Martha walked in. “I’ve left a couple of baskets in the orchard if you wouldn’t mind bringing them in,” she said to Clark.
He nodded. “Lois is coming with me to see to the steer,” he said.
Martha stopped, looked at Clark and said, “You’ll take the truck?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
When Lois had finished breakfast, she bid Martha goodbye and headed to the barn. She was almost at the door when Clark fell into step beside her.
“I figure you’ve already checked Bess this morning?” she said.
“Uh huh.”
They walked through the barn and looked over the fence into the field. Bess was grazing peacefully. “What did Martha mean when she asked if we would go in the truck?” Lois asked. “What is the other option?”
“There isn’t one really,” Clark said.
“Then why ask?”
Clark turned to her. “You’re good, Lane,” he said.
She grinned. “Meaning?”
“Meaning Mom was making sure I didn’t intend taking the ATV.”
“What’s wrong with the ATV?”
“Nothing.”
“Then why didn’t Martha want us to take it?”
“The truck will be more comfortable for you.”
“Would you take the ATV if I wasn’t going?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s quicker.”
“Can two people ride on the ATV?”
“Yes.”
“Then let’s take it.”
Clark led her to a lean-to jutting out from the far side of the barn. “That’s the ATV,” he said.
It was a bit dilapidated and clearly well-used. “The seat looks comfortable enough,” Lois commented. When Clark said nothing, she continued. “Why is this quicker than the truck? Surely the truck can go a lot faster.”
“About fifteen years ago, Dad bought a field from a neighbouring farmer. At the back of our property, there’s a creek. It’s our boundary. If we take the ATV, we go through our fields, cross the creek, continue through some of Wayne Irig’s fields, and to the far field. If we take the truck, we go around by road, which is a lot further.”
“Let’s take the ATV.”
“Lois…” He lifted his hands, looking uneasy.
“What?”
“You’ll have to hang on to me. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”
“If we go on the ATV, you might have time to get other work done, and that will help Martha not to worry, won’t it?”
“I guess so.”
“We’ll take the ATV,” Lois said decisively. “If Martha objects, you can tell her I insisted.” Lois put a hand on his chest, just down from his shoulder. "There’s no point wasting time.”
“There’s every point if it makes it more comfortable for you.”
Lois smiled at him. “Remind me one day to tell you about some of the ‘uncomfortable’ situations I’ve gotten into chasing stories.”
“I don’t think I want to know,” he said, sounding terse, but with a dash of humour crinkling his eyes.
“You don’t,” Lois said. “But I think the ATV sounds like fun.”
His eyebrows lifted, but he didn’t comment.
“I’ll go and get my jacket,” she said.
“Good idea,” he said. “And I think ladies usually tie up their hair so it doesn’t get blown around.”
“Thanks,” she said, looking forward to this more every moment. “I’ll be five minutes.”
~~~~
Clark frowned at the ATV as if it were somehow responsible for Lois’s decision.
Riding on the ATV would be jerky and rough.
He would moderate that.
The ATV would require Lois sitting behind him, closely fitted against his body.
That didn’t seem to bother her.
Clark lifted his shoulders, cast away his shoal of doubts and decided he was going to enjoy the day.
He gave the ATV a quick check over and wheeled it into the yard.
Then he walked slowly back to the house.
His mom’s greatest concern – the anxiety that kept her awake at night and drove so many of her troubled thoughts – was that he would accidentally reveal his strange powers and once people knew, he would not be allowed to continue living and farming in Kansas.
It affected so much of what they did.
They’d given Jack work because Martha knew that farmers compulsively checked out each other’s fields and would notice if Clark achieved more than was possible for one man.
He’d driven the tractor up and down endless rows for three days when he could have ‘slashed’ the grass with a sweep of his vision.
But it would have looked different.
And his mom was terrified that someone would find it unusual enough to ask questions.
He could have flown to the far field… but Martha would worry that someone might notice he was there without a vehicle. So, he had to drive – by ATV or truck – and with Lois coming, Martha didn’t want them to use the ATV.
Not because she thought Lois would get hurt.
She knew he would deal with any danger that presented itself.
But that might reveal enough to start a domino effect that would, eventually, lead to Martha losing her son.
Clark tuned in his hearing.
“I want to go on the ATV,” Lois was saying. “Clark is already too busy. If we go in the truck, it will take time that could be used doing the chicken house.”
Clark allowed himself a small grin but stifled it quickly as he entered the kitchen. He went directly to the picnic basket, lifted its lid, and checked the contents. He added a couple of apples from the basket he’d brought in and smiled at both women.
Lois smiled back, looking happy and carefree.
Martha wasn’t smiling, and there was a clear message in her eyes: Be careful!
He nodded. “Ready?” he asked Lois.
“Yep.”
Clark kissed his mom’s cheek and picked up their lunch. “Have a great day with Anna,” he said.
“Don’t do anything silly,” Martha said.
“We won’t,” he promised, with another look to reassure her that he understood her warning.
Then, Clark walked out into the sunshine with Lois by his side.
~~~~
Martha watched them for a second, then turned away from the window. She slid into a chair and rested her forearms on the table that had been a wedding present from her parents.
How many hours had she and Jonathan spent at this table? How many conversations? How much laughter? How many plans made? Meals eaten? Friends hosted?
From the sea of memories, one rose now. Martha had sat here with Anna a few months before she and Jonathan had found Clark. Jonathan had taken Anna’s two young sons to see a new baler. Anna had told Martha she was expecting again. Martha had been delighted for Anna and Tom, but her own longing for a child had bubbled up, and Anna had held her as she’d poured out her heartache.
In Smallville, where everyone knew everyone else’s business, Martha had discovered that Anna might pass on detailed information about the Kents’ new baler, but she could be trusted absolutely to keep a confidence of a more personal nature.
As it turned out, Martha had had a new baby in her home before Anna did. Clark had become a regular at this table, and Martha’s world had been complete.
Until last year…
When that world had shattered. Fear had taken a foothold, and she had been powerless to stand against it. She knew it had affected Clark in so many different ways and that had added a debilitating layer of guilt to her grief. But Jonathan had been her strength and her stability, and without him, she’d been incapable of resisting the onslaught of anxiety.
She’d overreacted about the ATV. They were dangerous, but, unlike most moms, it wasn’t the chance of a collision or a rollover that fed her fears, but the chance that Clark would use his phenomenal strength to ensure Lois was safe. She knew that if the choice came – Lois’s safety or the protection of his secret – Clark wouldn’t hesitate.
Because her son was in love with Lois.
And Lois was Lois Lane, city girl, career woman, and The Daily Planet’s top investigative reporter.
~~~~
When Lois and Clark reached the ATV, he secured the basket on the back. “If it’s too uncomfortable, you can change your mind," he said.
“OK.” She seemed happy this morning. He wondered if it were the new clothes. Or the time away from the farm relaxing with Martha. Or maybe farm life had worked its charm, making Metropolis and all its troubles seem far away.
Clark straddled the ATV and stood as far forward as he could. He offered one hand to Lois. She took it and clambered on behind him. “Ready?” he asked.
“Yep.”
He sat down, and Lois’s arms came around his waist. “Hold on,” he said.
Her arms tightened. He started the motor and headed for the first field. He kept the pace slow as they approached and rode through the orchard. He stopped when they reached the first gate. Lois was off the ATV before he could say anything. She opened the gate and stood waiting for him, grinning.
“Thank you,” he said as he passed her.
He turned to watch her shut the gate. “Are you sure the ATV’s OK?” he asked as she walked towards him. “Not too uncomfortable?”
“How could I know with you going so slowly?” she asked. Then she grinned at him, flip-flopping his heart in his chest.
“You’d like me to go a little faster?” he asked, trying to curb his grin.
She nodded, slipped in behind him, and her arms circled his waist again.
They rode across four fields and through four gates, and each time, Lois jumped from the ATV to open the gate, giving him a wide smile as he passed her.
It was a little taste of the dream Clark had nurtured since he was a small boy. Except it was better than his imaginings. He’d never had the audacity to dream he could be with someone like Lois.
They reached the boundary of their property and came to the creek with an old and rickety bridge crossing the water.
Clark stopped the motor, and they both dismounted from the ATV. Lois slowly spun around, taking in the creek, the soft green grass, and the large oak tree beginning to shed its leaves to form the first layer of a crunchy carpet.
“Clark,” she said. “What a beautiful place!”
Clark unfastened the picnic basket. “I thought we could have our lunch here on the way back.”
“Perfect,” she said, grinning.
He took out two bottles of lemonade, tied them together and put them in the creek, tethering them to a post positioned for exactly that purpose. He stowed the basket under the tree. Lois was looking dubiously at the bridge. “Is that going to take all the weight?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said, knowing it wouldn’t have to. “But if you’re not sure, you can walk across.”
She contemplated the bridge again.
“I’ll go first,” Clark said. “If it can hold the ATV and me, it’s not going to collapse under your weight.”
“OK.”
Clark rode across, not using any extra help. The bridge creaked a little, but it held fine, as he knew it would.
Lois jogged over the bridge and got back on the ATV. “How much further?” she said.
“About the same distance through Wayne’s fields.”
Her arms encircled him, and Clark set off.
Twenty minutes later, they reached the end of the Irig property and arrived at the boundary of the far field.
Once through the gate, Lois looked around. “Wow,” she said. “I love all those trees.”
“It’s a great field,” Clark agreed. “It was a good decision of Dad’s to buy it, even though it’s away from the rest of our farm.”
In the distance, Clark could see the steers. As Lois remounted the ATV, he said, “We’ll have to go slow, Miss Speed Queen. Best for everyone if the cattle stay calm.”
“OK,” she agreed. “This is fun, Clark. Thanks for letting me come.”
“It’s great having you along,” he said, wondering if she had any idea just how much he was enjoying her company. He rode to the yards and quickly checked their condition. He stopped at the main gate and turned off the motor.
“Do you want the gate open?” Lois asked.
“Yes,” he said as he dismounted. He swung the large gate. “I am going to bring them all in. If I try to separate one, he’ll get twitchy. Once they’re in here, I’ll be able to assess if there’s a problem.”
“What should I do?”
“Could you stay here?” he asked. “Stand well behind the gate. As they approach, stand really still. Once they’re all inside the yards, shut the gate behind them.”
Lois stood behind the open gate. “Here?” she called.
“Yep. I’ll put out some feed, then I’ll go and get them.”
He went to the small haystack tucked under a makeshift roof, took down a bale of alfalfa hay, and spread it on the ground in easy sight of the steers. A couple of the more intelligent ones had already started making for the yards.
As he walked past Lois, he said, “Whatever happens, stay right there.”
She waved in acknowledgement, and Clark mounted the ATV and rode slowly towards the steers.
He saw the steer with the gashed leg very quickly. He had a blood stain down his back leg and was limping. Clark went around behind them and eased them towards the yards. Seeing the alfalfa, a few began to trot, and the rest followed.
Clark rode into the yards. Lois shut the gate and came over to him. “That was easy,” she said.
“I bring them into the yards regularly,” Clark told her. “So when I need to work with them, it’s not too difficult.”
“I saw the one with blood on his leg. It looked pretty bad.”
“It might not be as bad as it looks.”
“What are you going to do?”
“After they’ve finished this hay, I’ll put some in the smaller yard. Then I’ll take them through the chute and have a better look at the leg.”
Lois’s expression indicated she didn’t really understand. “What can I do?”
“See the shed over there?” he said, pointing to the edge of the yards.
“Uh huh.”
“There’s a medical box in there. I’ll need a syringe, needle, lignocaine, sewing needle, thread, scissors, and the antiseptic spray. It’s all labelled.”
“He’s going to need stitching?” she said, looking aghast.
“I think so. I got a closer look when I was bringing him in.”
“Don’t vets do that sort of thing?”
Clark smiled. “Yes, they do. But so do farmers.”
“OK. You need syringe, needle, thread, sewing needle, lignocaine, scissors, and antiseptic spray?” she said, counting them off on her fingers.
“I told you you’d make a great farmer,” he said.
She grinned at that, and Clark watched as Lois walked away.
She was totally wonderful. He enjoyed her company, revelled in her smile, and was constantly surprised by her reaction to new and unfamiliar things.
Under his breezy compliments about being a great farmer, there was honest admiration at how easily she’d adjusted to a completely foreign environment.
It was easy to understand how she had become such a successful reporter. She probably went places, did things, followed people where her safely wasn’t assured.
Clark frowned. The thought of Lois being hurt felt like a solid block of concrete settling in his gut.
He left the ATV and walked into the next section to put out more hay. The steers followed. He shut the gate behind them and then opened the chute and put more hay at the end.
The leader steers walked into the chute, knowing the routine. A few followed including the injured one. With a quick glance to the shed to ensure Lois wasn’t watching, Clark moved extra fast to slip three steel bars in front of the steer and then three behind him, caging him in.
He looped the rope around the steer’s hock, pulled his leg back and tied the rope to the chute. He looked through the blood at the gash. It was long, not too deep, not infected.
After opening the front of the chute to let out the other steers, he got a bucket of water and a clean cloth. Lois arrived just as he’d finished washing the area.
“Poor boy,” she said, looking at the leg.
“It’s not too bad,” Clark said. “He probably got it caught on a sharp branch.” He looked up from where he was squatting next to the chute. “How do you feel about being a vet nurse?”
“Happy to help,” she said.
Clark wondered if there was anything he could suggest that would cause her to baulk. He drew up the lignocaine and injected some above the gash. The steer shuffled, trying to kick, but was securely tied. Clark injected in three other spots around the wound.
“Local anaesthetic?” Lois guessed.
“Yep. We’ll give him a few minutes, then we’ll sew him up.”
“Can I give him more of the food?”
“It’s alfalfa hay,” Clark said. “And yes, that’ll keep him occupied. Walk quietly to the edge and pick up some. The steers won’t take any notice of you.” She went to the scattered bale, walking directly between two steers without any sign of apprehension. He watched, glasses lowered, ready to shoot heat at any steer that threatened Lois’s safety.
None did. She picked up a couple of flakes and brought them back.
“He’s going to love you,” Clark said.
“He deserves a treat,” Lois said. “Poor boy.” She dropped the hay over the bar and the steer started munching on it.
“Thanks,” Clark said.
“You’re welcome. Why is he called a steer? Why not a cow?”
“Cows are female. Bulls are male. Steers are castrated males.”
“Oh. Why is he castrated?”
“Because it makes them calmer, less likely to fight and damage each other, less likely to go through fences, and safer for humans to work with them. And they can be in the same field with young cows – females – who are not ready to be bred.”
She motioned her arm in the direction of the herd. “Are they all steers?”
“Yes.”
“Did the vet do it?”
“No.”
“Eww,” she said, puckering up her nose.
Clark laughed. “Nothing like that today. Just a few stitches.”
“How many?”
Clark considered the gash. “Five or six.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Cut the thread. His leg is tied pretty tight, but don’t let your hands get between him and the bars. You don’t want to be crushed,” he said, knowing he would not allow that to happen.
“OK.”
Clark threaded the needle, muttered a few calming words to the steer and began to stitch.
