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.
Chapter 8
Lois watched as Clark steadily and competently stitched the gash on the steer’s leg. He spoke gently to the animal when it became restless and was always conscious of the position of her hands and arms. Once, when the steer kicked, Clark grasped the leg and stopped it from reaching her hand.
Her appreciation of his strength rose another notch.
When the final stitch was tied off and cut, Clark stood up and said, “Pretty neat job.”
“We make a good team,” Lois said.
He smiled at that. “Thanks for your help.”
He sprayed the whole area with blue antiseptic spray, untied the steer’s leg, and quickly removed the bars in front of the animal. It took a couple more mouthfuls of the hay and then sauntered away.
“Did you buy these steers?” Lois asked.
“No, they were born here last year.”
“You have others?”
“Yes, we have a herd of beef cows. They are in the far east field with this year’s calves.”
“Are we going to put these ones back in the field now?” Lois asked.
“I’ll just look them over,” he said. “If there are any other issues, we should deal with them while we’re here.”
Clark checked out the steers, moving easily among them, while Lois checked out Clark.
Looking back, she wasn’t sure she’d given as much as a passing thought to farmers. If she had, it was to assume they were boring, countrified, and dull. Backwards even.
Clark Kent was none of those things. He was intelligent, articulate, and thoughtful, with a well-developed sense of responsibility. He loved his mom dearly and had made sacrifices to try to help her through her grief, while dealing with the loss of his father.
He was some man.
He had dreamed of being a reporter for The Daily Planet.
Just as he had predicted, he had shocked her with that information.
She now owed him… something. He hadn’t mentioned it again. Lois wondered if he’d thought about it, if he had something in mind that he was going to ask of her.
His reluctance to use the ATV had set him apart from almost every other man she’d known. He had seemed genuinely concerned that she be comfortable – not only physically but with the necessary closeness required in sharing the not-overly-large seat.
His abdomen had been lean and muscular under her arms. His shoulders were broad. His back was hard with undulating plains of muscle. And his biceps… well, they were out and out spectacular.
The caring nature, the gentleness with the animals, the work ethic, the knowledge and capability, the strength of character, the terrific smile, the toned body… it was an enticing combination.
Why wasn’t he married? Did he have a girlfriend? Why hadn’t the local women noticed him right under their noses?
Who was Lana? The fragments of conversation Lois had heard in the café… had they been talking about this Clark?
Because, in the six days she’d known Clark, he’d given not one indication that he was interested in any particular woman. No mention of her name. No phone calls. No visits. And when Lois had asked Martha if Bess were Clark’s wife, Martha hadn’t said Clark had a girlfriend.
She hadn’t said Clark didn’t have a girlfriend either.
Maybe Lana was away.
But they could still call each other.
Had he spent any time thinking about her, Lois? He must have questions about why she’d been upset, why she’d been looking for Jack Mackenzie, and what had led her to rural Kansas. He must wonder, but he’d demanded nothing from her. No explanations, no answers.
Less than a week after deciding she would never again trust another man, Lois was close to trusting Clark Kent.
Not with her heart, obviously.
But perhaps there was no need for secrecy.
Of course, the information about Jack Mackenzie had to be handled carefully. There was a level of control in being the only person who knew something. As soon as anyone else knew, Lois would lose control over decisions about what and how and when and if Jack was told of their connection.
“They all look great.”
Lois jumped as Clark’s voice cut through her thoughts. She felt a splash of heat spread across her cheeks. “Ah, that’s good,” she said, looking at the steers to avoid facing Clark directly.
“We can open the gates and let them out.”
Once the steers were back in their field, Lois and Clark packed away the medical gear. As they returned to the ATV, Lois pointed to where, about fifty yards away, eight tall poles reached up from a level patch of ground. “What are they for?” she asked.
Clark looked in the direction she pointed. “That’s a project I started with Dad,” he said.
There was sorrow in his voice, and she rested her hand on his back, just above his belt. “Sorry, Clark.”
He gave her a half smile. “Nothing to be sorry about,” he said. “Dad and I had talked about a barn out here for years. Instead of carting hay to the barn near the house, then carting it back out here to feed stock during winter, we could store it here.”
“Great idea,” Lois said, conscious of her hand still on his back.
“We had a great season three years ago. Good rain exactly when we needed it, fantastic pasture growth, high cattle prices. We used the extra income to buy the materials for the barn.”
The poles seemed a stark and lonesome reminder of an earlier time. A happier time. “I’m so sorry, Clark.”
His hand lifted, paused, and landed lightly on her shoulder. “We got the poles in and were hoping to get it done before last winter.” With a pat to her shoulder, he turned towards the ATV, and her hand dropped away from his body.
“Were you hoping to finish it this year?” Lois asked as she fell into step beside him. "With Jack's help?"
He shrugged. “There’s always next year.”
They reached the ATV and clambered on. They rode through the Irigs’ property and arrived back at the creek where they had left their lunch.
“It’s a little early,” Clark said, glancing at his watch. “But shall we stop here and eat?”
“Yes! This is such a beautiful spot.”
He smiled at her enthusiasm. “Shade or sunshine?”
“Sunshine,” Lois said, taking off her jacket.
Clark took the picnic blanket from the top of the basket and spread it out on the leafy grass under the sunny side of the oak tree. Lois unpacked the rest of the basket while Clark went to the creek to retrieve the bottles of lemonade.
Then he positioned the ATV along the edge of the blanket. When Lois shot him a questioning look, he grinned, which was kind of what she’d been hoping for.
“Back rest,” he explained.
“Good idea,” she said.
They sat on the blanket, Clark leaning against the front wheel, Lois against the back, with the basket between them. Clark opened the lemonades and handed her one.
“Thanks,” she said.
They each took a sandwich, and under the canopy of golden leaves, the picnic began.
~~~~
They ate mostly in silence, surrendering to the peaceful mood wrought by the warming sunshine, the balmy breeze, and the good food.
And the great company.
Clark had been surreptitiously watching Lois. She had put her hand on his back. Physically, it had been a light touch, but it had seemed imbued with something… understanding, perhaps. Concern? Maybe. Affection? Possibly.
Trust?
Did she feel ready to answer even one of the questions bustling inside his head?
Do you still want to see Jack?
Is the position at The Daily Planet vacant because you left?
When are you going back to Metropolis?
Who hurt you so badly you needed to stop driving to cry?
Are you still hurting?
How can I help?
Is there any chance you could fall in love with a simple farmer from Kansas?
He couldn’t imagine asking her any of those questions. And the last… well, just thinking about that sent his heart into overdrive and caused his stomach to become a tangle of nerves.
“Are you pleased with how things went this morning?” Lois asked.
“Yes. The steer should heal well. The rest of them are looking great.” He glanced across to her. “Was treating the steer too gory for you?”
“No,” she said. “It was fascinating. You’ve obviously done it before.”
“A few times."
“Did your father teach you?”
“Yes.”
She reached for some grapes but paused. “I appreciate you teaching me so much about your life.”
“You’re a great student. Very observant. Eager to learn.”
“Does it hurt you? Teaching me?”
“No,” he said. “Why would it?”
“Because your father taught you and teaching me must bring back memories.”
“It does,” he admitted. “But they’re good memories.”
“I will never forget my time here,” Lois said. “And I’ll always be grateful for the kindness you and Martha have shown me.”
That sounded like a lead-in to the announcement of her departure. Clark held his breath, waiting for the words that would destroy his flimsy and unrealistic hopes.
“I have a question for you, Farm Boy."
Clark released his breath and grasped the presented opportunity. “I have one for you, too, City Girl.”
She grinned at that. “OK,” she said easily. “Here's your question. What is the hardest thing about farming?”
Clark chewed for a few moments, considering Lois’s question. “Do you mean the hardest? Or the most difficult?”
“Is there a difference?”
“Is the hardest to do with what is outside my control? And the most difficult to do with making decisions that are within my control?”
Lois considered that. “Maybe.”
“The hardest would be losing something.”
“Like an animal?”
Clark nodded. “That’s always tough. But losing a crop is disappointing, too.”
“And the most difficult?”
“Choosing which animals stay, which leave. Making decisions about animal welfare. Choosing the right time to euthanise an old or very sick animal.”
“Have you ever had to sell an animal you really liked?”
Clark nodded as he took a few grapes from the bunch. “What is the hardest thing about being an investigative journalist?”
“Is that your question?” she asked, tossing him a playful smile.
“It can be,” he hedged, annoyed with himself for wasting the chance to get at least one of his questions asked.
“Hardest?” Lois said. “Getting scooped. Most difficult? Knowing who you can trust.”
Something in her tone made him wonder if her trusting someone had caused the distress that had somehow led to her search for Jack and brought her into his life.
The thought of someone hurting her was unbearable. But without that pain, he might never have met her. He shuffled away from the ATV wheel and turned so he was facing her. “Lois? Do you mind if I ask another question?”
“No.”
“You said there was a vacancy at The Daily Planet.”
“There is. Are you interested?”
“No. But I’m wondering if the vacancy was your position.”
She hesitated, but only for a moment. “Yes. It was.”
The sense of loss cast shadows over her words. “I’m sorry, Lois.”
She shrugged. “I made mistakes.”
“Did those mistakes involve trusting someone?”
She winced and fixed her gaze on the blanket.
“I’m sorry,” Clark said quickly. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”
“Yes,” she said. “I trusted someone. I believed him. I wrote a story based on his claims. But he was lying to me. He was using me to protect his criminal activities.”
Clark longed to touch her. To hold her. To soothe away her distress. “Aw, Lois, I’m so sorry.”
She looked up, facing him directly. “Perry demanded evidence for what I wrote. I told him I had a rock-solid source. I told him that if he didn’t publish, I would leave.”
“Did he publish?”
“No.”
“You left?”
Dark memories churned through her expression. “Yes,” she said. “But not because of Perry. I left because…”
Clark had never wanted to hold someone as much as he wanted to hold Lois now. He inched a little closer and hung his forearm over his bended knee with his fingers dangling just a few inches from her shoulder.
She didn’t back away. “I was so easily misled,” she said. “I no longer have any confidence in my ability to be a reporter.”
“It was one mistake, Lois. It could happen to anyone.”
“It was a huge mistake. If Perry had published, The Daily Planet would have been facing defamation cases for years. It would have destroyed a fine paper.”
“Have you spoken to Perry since you left Metropolis?”
“No.”
“Do you think you should?” he asked gently.
“No.”
He stretched his hand enough to lay a touch to her shoulder. “Lois, I’ve read your work. You’re a talented, brilliant reporter.” He paused, batting down his own longings, knowing he had to continue. “You have to call Perry. You have to know if he wants you back.”
“Even if he did…” She glanced up into his face. “I’m not sure what I want anymore.”
“You’ll work it out.” He deepened his connection on her shoulder, adding another finger. “Perry is probably worried about you.”
She nodded slightly. “I’ll think about calling him.”
“Use the phone in the kitchen,” he said.
“Thanks.” She reached forward to take an apple from the basket, breaking their connection. She rubbed it on her jeans, but then paused as if she'd been caught up in thoughts of another place and time.
“I’m sorry,” Clark said. “I didn’t mean to pry.”
She met his eyes. She smiled sadly. “One day soon, I’m going to have to make some decisions,” she said. “I’ll have to go back and face the consequences of my mistakes.”
“You know you’re welcome to stay as long as you want,” he said.
“I was so lucky to stop at your gate,” she said. “You and your mother… you’ve given me exactly what I needed, even though I didn’t believe anything could help.”
“Do you still want to see Jack?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
“I was thinking… Is it possible he hasn’t returned because he’s looking for you?”
“No,” she said quickly. Then she appeared to reconsider. “I don’t think he knows I exist.”
“Jack doesn’t know you?” Clark gasped, as a significant number of his imagined scenarios dissolved. “So… it’s a story you’re chasing?”
She shook her head. “No story.” She hauled in a long, slightly shuddery breath. “I guess I owe you an explanation.”
Clark looked directly into her eyes. “You don’t owe me one single thing,” he said. “Certainly, you shouldn’t feel you have to tell me anything you don’t want to tell me.” His gaze dropped, wanting to diffuse his intensity. “But if you’d like to talk about it, I would like to listen. Talking about it might make it easier to work out what you want to do.”
“I think Jack Mackenzie is the result of one of my father’s affairs.”
“Your brother?” he gasped.
She nodded.
“Aw, Lois,” he said, wanting so desperately to buffer the disappointment he was about to deliver. “I don’t think you’ve got the right Jack Mackenzie.”
“Why not?”
“Jack’s Australian. He comes from a dairy farm in Victoria – a farm he works with his parents.”
There was shock on her face. Perhaps disappointment, too. She gave a cold, grim chuckle. “I got that wrong, too.”
He couldn’t help himself. Clark slid his hand to her neck and gathered her closer against his body. “I’m sorry,” he murmured into her hair.
She stayed within his embrace for a couple more breaths, then settled back against the wheel. She was staring at the horizon as she said, “I guess I should have opened up about Jack a lot earlier.”
Clark shook his head. “No,” he said firmly. “If you’d known, you might have left that first day.”
She turned to him then and smiled softly. “And I would have missed out on canning tomatoes and sewing up steers and all sorts of other farm experiences.”
And Clark would have missed out on falling in love with Lois. “Why did you come to Kansas?” he said. “Why did you think Jack could be here?”
Lois dragged in a huge breath. “I don’t have the whole story. There are holes… questions Dad can’t – or won’t – answer.”
“Is that one reason why you came looking for Jack? To find answers?”
She nodded. “Like a story. Except this story was personal.”
Clark waited, wanting to give her the choice to decide how much to tell him.
“I basically grew up in a warzone,” Lois said, her voice hardening. “My parents fought several times every week, and between the fights, there were periods of cold stony silence.”
“I’m so sorry, Lois. That would have been awful.”
“They split up when I was fifteen, and it was better after that. The acrimony was still there, but it was less intense because they only saw each other when they were swapping my sister and me between them like unwanted luggage.”
“You have a sister?” He had assumed she was an only child, like him.
“Yes. Lucy. She’s three years younger than I am. She got away as soon as she could. She lives in Texas with her third husband.”
“Oh, Lois,” he breathed.
“About five months ago, my parents stunned me by announcing they were moving in together and going to try to make it work. I was sceptical. But they did it. They moved in together. And they appeared to be making it work. The three of us went to Texas together to visit Lucy, and our parents remarried. It was the best vacation of my life.”
“And then… your mother found out about Jack?”
“Yep.”
“I can imagine that caused a few ripples.”
She laughed, harsh and tight. “A few ripples? More like a tsunami.”
“That bad?”
“My family… we have special skills in making the OK bad and the bad horrendous.”
Clark winced. “I’m sorry, Lois.”
“Mom found a letter from a Jack Mackenzie on Dad’s desk.”
“Your father and Jack are in contact?”
“I don’t think so. There’s an agency in Metropolis that helps adopted kids and their birth parents find each other if that’s what they want.”
“Jack was adopted?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know anything about his mother or what she did after he was born.”
“How did your father get a letter from Jack?”
“After Mom found the letter, Dad admitted to an affair but denied there was ever a child. I went to the agency and said I was researching a story about reuniting families and asked about their system. Anyone can register details with them – date of birth, hospital, names. When the details match, they offer both parties the chance to write a letter of introduction and send it to the agency. The letters can be forwarded on if both agree.”
“Does that mean your father registered his details? He was interested in finding his son?”
“He denied it, but I think he was lying. He could have done it during any one of the times when things were really bad. Maybe he thought Jack was a second chance to have a family.”
“Jack sent his details and they matched?”
Lois nodded. “The letter Mom found was Jack’s introductory letter. Dad claimed the mother was lying and he didn’t know why the agency had sent him the letter.”
“You don’t believe him?” Clark asked gently.
“No.” She swallowed down a sob. “My father lies a lot. He also had multiple affairs.”
“Do you know any more details from the letter? Where Jack lives? His work? His family?”
“No. I didn’t see the letter. I assume Dad – or Mom – destroyed it.”
“Why did you come to Kansas?”
“Whoever destroyed the letter wasn’t careful enough. I snooped around Dad’s office and found the envelope from the agency in the trash can. Inside it was the original envelope from Jack. The postmark was Smallville.”
"But no return address?"
"No. All I had was the postmark."
“When was the letter sent?”
“April.”
Clark replaced his hand on her shoulder, wanting to soften the coming blow. “I'm sorry, Lois, Jack didn’t come to Smallville until June.”
“I don’t suppose there is another Jack Mackenzie in this area?”
Clark shook his head. “None that I’ve heard of.” He ran his thumb across the ridge of her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Lois.”
"I guess 'Jack Mackenzie' isn't an uncommon name. But wherever he is now, he was in Smallville a few months ago."
"Maybe he came here to post the letter to cover his actual whereabouts."
"Maybe."
“Do you know if your father sent a letter to Jack?”
“I doubt it. He’s not the sort of person to write letters. Or take responsibility for his actions.”
“That’s rough on Jack,” Clark said.
“Not as rough as finding your family and then discovering they bring nothing but heartache.”
“Lois, I’m so sorry.”
Clark was still trying to work out how he could hold her without crowding her when Lois stood and patted his shoulder. “We have a chicken house to fix, don’t we?” She offered her hand to haul him up.
“Yep,” he said, taking it, swinging to his feet, and accepting her closure to their conversation. He packed away the remains of their lunch and secured the basket to the back of the ATV, feeling very relieved that he’d asked some questions, got some answers, and not destroyed his friendship with the woman he loved.
~~~~
The afternoon gave Lois another example of Clark’s wide set of skills as he removed some of the damaged roof of the chicken coop and then replaced it with new timber and tin.
She ‘helped’ although her part was small, and more, she guessed because Clark wanted her company rather than her assistance.
Farming could be lonely, she’d realised.
Particularly for a man who’d worked so closely with his father and was now doing it alone.
They chatted as Clark worked, her asking questions about the job at hand and him answering in his usual straightforward modest way.
The highlight, for Lois anyway, had been when Clark had climbed onto the roof. He’d done it easily, seemingly with little effort, leaving Lois a little breathless.
The breaks in their conversation had given her space to think about Clark’s revelation. His Jack was not her Jack!
In hindsight, it had been too easy. She should have realised.
But she hadn’t been in the mental or emotional state to be thinking clearly.
If she had a brother, he was still out of her reach. And she still had serious doubts about whether finding him would benefit anyone.
But her trip to Smallville had been far from a waste.
She had found Clark, probably the best friend she’d ever had.
She’d found other blessings, too.
Martha. And Bess.
And a whole way of life so entirely different than anything she’d experienced before.
She smiled at Clark as he jumped down from the almost-finished roof.
He smiled back, warming her heart.
“It looks great,” she said.
“It should keep them snug and dry over the winter,” he said.
“What would you like me to do now?” Lois asked.
“Mom has probably returned from Anna’s place. Would you mind seeing if she needs some help with supper?”
“Of course not. I’ll head over there now.”
“Thanks,” he said, his brown eyes warm and soft. “See you soon.”
Lois walked back to the house, her mind full of the memory of Clark – competent, warm, safe, caring, gentle, strong, understanding.
And a farmer who lived in Kansas.
Lois sighed as she stepped up onto the porch.
~~~~
“Did you check on Bess?” Lois asked as she and Clark finished clearing away their supper. Martha had already gone upstairs, saying she needed a long soak in the bath and an early night.
“Yep.”
She detected excitement in his single word reply. “And?”
“Her pins have gone.”
“Excuse me?”
He laughed at her confusion. “Her pins have gone. The ligaments in her hips loosen before she gives birth. Once they’re gone, the calf should be here within twenty-four hours.”
“It’s really close now?” Lois said, feeling ridiculously excited.
He nodded as he finished wiping down the table. “I’m sorry, Lois, but I’m not going to be good company this evening. I’m a week behind with the farm accounts, and I need to get them done before Mom starts worrying about them.”
“That’s OK. I wanted to read more from that green book I found on your shelf.”
“The One Straw Revolution?” Clark said, leading the way into the living room.
“Yes.”
He took it from the shelf and gave it to her. “I do the accounts there,” he said, pointing to a small desk in the corner. “You could sit in here and read if you wanted to.”
“Thanks,” she said, taking the book.
“Would you like a drink? Tea? Coffee? Something cold?”
“Tea, please.”
Five minutes later, he returned with two cups of tea. Lois took hers, smiled her thanks, and continued reading the first page of the book. Clark sat down at his desk.
Silence settled around them. Silence and peace.
Lois stared at the words but didn’t take in any of the meaning. Since she’d arrived here six days ago, she’d barely thought about the chaos she’d left behind in Metropolis.
Eventually, she was going to have to return to her real life.
But for now… she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so relaxed.
It felt good.
Really good, actually.
~~~~
Clark stared at the columns of numbers before him but not one of them registered in his mind that was filled with so much else.
Lois.
Lois here.
What she’d left behind in Metropolis.
A family dealing with a past affair.
The sudden revelation of a son and a brother.
Someone who had gained Lois’s trust, only to betray her.
Someone Lois had cared about deeply, Clark surmised.
He really couldn’t understand how anyone could have used her, hurt her so badly.
The man had had Lois’s affection, maybe her love, and he’d used her for his own gain, putting her career in jeopardy in the process.
Clark shook his head, unable to comprehend the other man’s motives.
Mom.
Anna.
Apples and pears.
Lois.
How long would she stay?
Could he eke out another couple of days to add to his memory bank?
Jack Mackenzie.
Lois’s family in turmoil.
She said she’d grown up in a warzone.
There was no reason for Lois to stay until Jack returned.
Would she decide to continue her search?
Was there any way he could help her find her brother?
Bess.
The calf had been in a good position when Clark had looked through Bess’s side earlier.
Dad.
How Clark missed him.
Mom.
Was this the beginning of her healing? Was it possible she could regain some of her old happiness?
Lois.
Was a miracle worker.
He’d enjoyed pizza on the porch with her.
He’d enjoyed the middle-of-the-night meetings with her in the barn.
Truth was, he’d enjoyed every moment he’d spent with her.
She brought light and vitality to a life that had degenerated to little more than existence.
Would she want to be there when Bess calved?
City people sometimes found those things difficult.
But she hadn’t flinched when they’d been working on the steer.
Lois.
How could he fall in love with her in just a few days?
The room was silent.
Lois and him.
Sharing a room.
Sharing an evening.
How he wished they could share a life.
Farm Boy.
She’d teased him.
It had felt so good. Addictive.
He couldn’t really be in love with her.
Could he?
He was.
He was sure he was.
And he was sure he always would be.
Last edited by Female Hawk; 06/12/24 05:20 PM.
