Leave Tomorrow Behind (Stella Crown Series) (13 page)

Chapter Twenty-two

I stopped outside the building and called Willard. When he answered, I told him what had just happened. “Can you find out what they know? Is this official?”

“I haven’t heard anything,” he said. “I’ll check it out.”

I thanked him, then caught up with the girls at Laura’s stall after trying to call Carla. I wasn’t going to let her be ambushed by Watts without warning. Even if there was no way Watts could reorganize the timeline to implicate Carla, she still might try to pin the stolen meds on her. That would tear Carla apart, if it were true. Carla didn’t answer, so I texted her, telling her briefly that Watts might be around asking stupid questions. I did a quick sweep through the dairy barn on my way to the calf barn, but didn’t see her anywhere. I hoped she would see my message sooner rather than later.

“Stella!” Taylor was still at Laura’s stall. “Laura just left.”

“Come on. Let’s get a seat.”

Taylor and I hoofed it to the arena just as the bucket calves were being judged. This is the youngest class, born only months before the fair, between March fifteen and May thirty. They were still in their adorable knobby-kneed stage, not as awkward as newborns, of course, but still fresh and innocent. The 4-H’ers were knobby-kneed, too. Younger than Zach, since they had to be between eight and thirteen to show this class. They looked as cute as their calves, wearing their white clothes, their nervousness showing in their stiffness and obvious discomfort about where to stand and how to hold the halter ropes. The older kids were fairly experienced, in most cases, but the eight-year-olds still had a lot of learning to do.

Bobby and Claire had found seats across the arena, Bobby very bright in an eye-splitting neon shirt, but there was no room with them, so Taylor and I squeezed into some free seats on the bleachers. Only then did I allow myself to relax. My sore foot, which I’d been on way too much that morning, let itself be known, but I didn’t care. I was just glad to be where I wanted to be for the first time that day. I would have hated to miss Zach’s market judging event, and poor Laura would have been devastated if her opportunity to show her calf had been lost. No matter that what we’d just done was necessary, missing her event would have tarnished Laura’s 4-H experience forever—what hadn’t already been tarnished.

The final six bucket calves were lined up in the front of the ring now, and the judge was looking them each over, marking a tablet, stepping closer for a look at this or that. He seemed agreeable enough, talking with the kids, asking questions we couldn’t hear, and nodding or smiling at their responses. Twice he had calves change places, until he seemed satisfied with his arrangement.

He visited the table to the side of the ring, and a ring man accompanied him back to the center, carrying ribbons. Using the handheld microphone, he praised the class for their care and quality of their calves, and congratulated them all on a job well done. The group in the back line realized by now that they wouldn’t be ribbon winners this year, and their disappointment showed in their hunched shoulders and forlorn expressions. The younger few were still excited, watching everything with wide eyes, but the older ones understood it was over.

The judge handed out the ribbons, from sixth to first place, and took a moment to acknowledge the attributes of the champion. The girl holding the halter appeared ready to burst with pride and joy, and practically danced her way out of the ring when it was all over.

“We’re next?” Taylor said.

We. She and Zach were already a “we”? Or was she lumping herself in with me? Were she and I a “we”? Not my usual speed for bonding.

“Zach and Laura will show in this next group,” I said, “along with Austin and Randy.”

“And them.”

I followed Taylor’s gaze to the bleachers on the other side of the ring. Mrs. Gregg perched on the edge of the first row, with her two older girls beside her. One of them was texting, and the other one was practically sitting on the lap of the guy next to her. He didn’t seem to be protesting.

Mr. Gregg slid into aisle space beside Mrs. G, but didn’t sit. His arms were crossed, and while he’d smoothed down his hair, his face still bore the expression I’d last seen in the cop building. Pissed off and freaked out. I guess that’s what happens when you get called out for being an asshole, and you don’t have any defense. Especially when you’re used to people pandering to you because they want something. His wife didn’t look overjoyed to see him. In fact, she didn’t even acknowledge his presence. Couldn’t blame her.

“You think they’ll win?” Taylor’s pretty face bore a frown.

“Unfortunately, there’s a good chance of it.”

“Cheaters.”

“Hey, there. Room for us?” Nick stood beside me, Miranda with him, showing what some might consider to be an expression of curiosity. I knew she was just trying not to smell anything.

I nudged Taylor with my hip, and she scooted down, making room.

Nick sat beside me, slipping his arm behind me, grabbing the edge of the bench. “You okay?”

“It’s been a long morning. I’ll explain later. Your day?”

“Productive.”

“Well, at least that’s one of us. What are you doing here?”

“Didn’t want to miss Zach’s event. He’s practically my nephew, you know.”

We smiled at each other, until I fully realized who’d come with him. “What about her?”

He gave me his innocent look. “She wants to spend quality time with me, while she can.”

I tried not to show my skepticism.

“Here they come!” Taylor chirped.

The first of Zach’s group paraded into the ring, and we all sat up straighter, watching for our friends. Austin was the first we saw, with Zach entering a few calves behind him. He looked very handsome in his whites, which Taylor appreciated, if the way she clutched her program meant anything. Laura showed up several calves later, with Randy directly behind her.

The calves were all beautiful, their coats glossy and combed to perfection. Barnabas, in particular, had never looked better. Zach had worked wonders with our ordinary, non-genetically planned calf. Zach led from Barnabas’ left side, his right hand holding the halter rope, his left his show stick. They filed into their spot, and Zach used his stick to gently prod Barnabas’ feet into straight, square positioning. He then rubbed the stick on Barnabas’ belly, to ease any nerves he might be suffering. I didn’t see any nerves, though. Barnabas looked like he might as well be standing in his stall back at home. Sleeping.

Austin’s Halladay fared just as well, and I remembered the pride in Austin’s voice as he described his “lucky” calf. Austin wore his whites well, although he looked awfully pale. Probably because he didn’t eat a bite of that lunch he’d bought. Even with the vampire impression, I couldn’t help but notice the difference a couple of years made. Where Zach was gangly and just growing into his nose, Austin had matured to the point he looked like a man. It was time for him to be done with 4-H and move on to other things. He was ready.

He needed to be ready, because Melody Gregg’s calf was gorgeous. Melody’s showmanship wasn’t up to Austin’s standard, but that didn’t matter in this category, where the judges were looking at the calves themselves. Her champion looked every bit of one, from his high, straight back, to his straight, strong legs, and wide, even hips. He walked right along with her, not minding her unsure—and lazy—hold on his halter, and when it came his turn to take his place in line, he placed his feet like a veteran, which he was. I wondered what Gregg had paid for him, and whether it was worth it to him. Maybe that depended on whether he won or not. Or maybe just whether or not Melody was a pouty mess when it was all over.

Randy’s calf gave him a little trouble, jumping around, but it looked like it just wanted to play, not that it was scared. He tried rubbing its stomach, but eventually gave up and took a firmer grip on the halter rope. The calf would calm soon, and as I said, this wasn’t the showmanship portion of judging, so it didn’t matter as much as it could. Randy, being the kind of kid he was, would be able to weather it.

Laura and her calf were another story. The girl was obviously still feeling anxious from the past hour with the detective, as well as from her realization of what she might have witnessed, and that had transferred to her calf, who skittered sideways, colliding with Randy and his calf. Randy jumped, yelping and hopping on one foot. Ouch. Even with a yearling, that was a lot of weight when it landed on your tender bones. My foot throbbed with a sympathetic pain. Laura pulled her calf away, apologizing to Randy, then walked Bunny forward, out of the line. She circled around again to the back of the group, re-positioning herself and her calf in their assigned spot, next to Randy. Bunny’s eyes rolled, and he balked, turning his hind end in a half circle, with Laura’s grip on his halter rope as the center point. Randy and his calf avoided contact this time.

“Why doesn’t someone help her?” Taylor asked me.

“They can’t. It’s all on Laura. At least this event is about the calf, and not about Laura’s performance. The next one is the one on their showmanship, so this would have been a disaster for her and for Randy.” I was proud of Randy for how he’d recovered from the incident. Looking at him, I’d never know anything had even happened. He’d turned his back on Laura and her calf, focused totally on his own thing. His calf was calm now, standing squarely, eyes forward.

Taylor gripped her knees so hard I thought she might cut off circulation to her feet, but I liked that she felt so much compassion for a girl she’d just met. Zach, I was sure, would have been worried, too, if he’d been in the stands, but he had his own little guy to think about, and was so focused on keeping him happy and still I don’t think he’d even seen what happened.

The judge began walking up and down the line, studying the calves, viewing their heads and faces. He then walked behind them, checking them out from the rear. I knew he was looking at the structure of their hips and hind legs. These male babies wouldn’t be having their own calves, of course, but their bloodlines would determine future generations of dairy cows, so the judge wanted to see straight, wide bones, and excellent symmetry.

When the judge returned to the front of the line, the ring men had the kids begin walking around the arena. Soon the whole lot of them were parading in a circle, with the judge taking a look at the calves’ feet, and the way their bodies moved as they walked. Laura’s calf had calmed down, probably because of Laura’s own demeanor, and by getting some action going, instead of standing in a static line. Seeing that Laura and Bunny would be okay, I switched my focus to the others.

Zach was doing great, Barnabas meandering along in his usual carefree style, like he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. He was almost too casual, flirting with the crowd, like he should have been participating in the Lovely Miss Pennsylvania pageant, instead. I couldn’t help but laugh, and pointed him out to Nick.

Austin’s calf was living up to expectations, striding purposefully, head high, following Austin’s lead exactly. He really was a beautiful calf, and seeing him in the ring showed him off. I hadn’t really taken the time to check him out in his stall, and realized I’d overlooked his star potential. He would make a fine stud someday, with his beautiful dairy characteristics.

Randy’s calf, the other one from my farm, walked along smoothly enough, but while he was a fine calf, he certainly wasn’t of the same caliber as Austin’s. Randy could maybe end up in the top ten, but I couldn’t see him placing any higher than fifth or sixth.

Melody Gregg’s calf…well, he was perfect. She, on the other hand, looked like she’d rather be somewhere clean, preferably without livestock.

“Who is
that
?” Miranda’s shocked voice pierced the air.

I followed her gaze across the ring, and it didn’t take me long to see Summer, in all her plastic glory, surrounded by a posse of fans, including her mother, a couple of less flamboyant girls, and her boobs, which were large enough to count as people.

I laughed. “That’s Nick’s new girlfriend.”

His arm tensed behind me. “Stella…”

“Oh, stop it, Nick, she knows I’m kidding.”

“Seriously,” Miranda said,“who is she?”

I glanced at Taylor, who was watching Zach with such concentration I didn’t think she heard our conversation. Ah, to be so young and tunnel-visioned.

“Her name is Summer. She’s a contestant in the Lovely Miss Pennsylvania pageant. We met her and her lovely mother yesterday, when the girl tried to abduct Nick by stuffing him into her cleavage.”

“Does she look…like that up close?”

“Worse. And I’m fairly certain the only real thing about her is maybe her earlobes. And those are disguised by earrings.”