Colleen: I thought I felt a disturbance in the twin-verse.

My sister always texts full sentences, including punctuation, but she’s fast. Before I can respond, she jumps down my digital throat.

Colleen: What the heck, Sam? Were you even going to stop by?

“Everything okay?” Carlos asks. He sure is extra for an old guy.

“Yeah, she’s just being nosy,” I explain as I type out a reply.

Me: I’m working

Colleen: I thought you worked on the other side of the state.

Shit. Now I’m screwed.

Me: I might be getting transferred

Colleen: To Fork Lick?

Me: Kinda

Colleen: Where are you staying?

Me: Not sure

Colleen: You better come home, Sam. Gran’s heart will be broken if she finds out.

Wincing, I look up. Instead of checking his own phone like a normal person, Carlos is just waiting expectantly. “I’ll never hear the end of it if my grandmother finds out I was within spitting distance of the farm and didn’t stop by. Any chance we can slot in a stop after lunch?”

Carlos’s smile is a little too pleased for my comfort. “It’s a farm, ain’t it? Visits are part of the job.”

Maybe it’ll be good for my new boss to see what I’m up against. I just hope neither of us regrets it.

CHAPTER 6SAM

Every time I pull up in front of my grandparents’ farmhouse, a fresh wave of grief laced with guilt rolls over me. Gomer must feel it too, because the moment I turn off the engine, he squirms out of his harness and sets his jaw on my forearm, pressing heavily. After giving him a scratch behind the ears to let him know I’ll be okay, I hop out of the truck and open the back door so he can hop out.

Gesturing for Carlos to follow, I head around the porch to the side door to use the boot scraper before ushering him and my dog into the kitchen. Something’s simmering on the stove, so I know my grandmother must be around somewhere.

After yelling upstairs, I try the basement.

“Samuel? Is that you?” she calls from below. “I’ll be right up.”

But the moment she appears, she says, “Samuel, get that dog out of the kitchen.”

“Gran, Gomer is trained to be with me at all times.”

“You know I don’t like animals in the house.”

“I’ve seen your sheep in the living room.”

“Only when there’s a flood warning.”

“Gomer’s not a pet, Gran. He’s a service animal.”

“I think there’s a reason why he failed at that, and you know it. He’s not any smarter than his namesake.”

“Namesake?”

“Gomer Pyle. From the TV show?”

“Never heard of it.”

“I suppose it was on before you were born. In any case”—she marches to the screen door and opens it—“out, Gomer.”

After a quick glance at me, he skulks past her to flop down on the porch with a grunt.

Gran pulls the door closed and then turns a sweet smile on Carlos. “Samuel, are you going to introduce your guest, or are you going to make this man think I didn’t raise you right?”

“I’m Carlos, ma’am. Sam’s new boss.” Carlos offers both his hand and a smile that’s a bit too flirtatious. “Lovely home you have here.”

“Ethel Bedd,” she says, shaking his hand. “So nice to meet you. What happened to his old boss?”

“I might be getting transferred,” I say, unwilling to give in just yet, “to the Columbia and Greene Counties’ office.”

My grandmother’s smile widens. “Well, that’s wonderful. So you’ll be staying here?”

“No, I, uh… It might not happen, and if it does, it won’t be for several weeks.”

“Well, you let me know if that changes.” Her lips twist to the side. “I have two WWOOFers moving in later this month. I was going to put them in your old bedroom. But you could take the attic.”

“Since when do we have WWOOFers?” Even though my brother begrudgingly allowed me to hook him up with some Cornell Ag student interns over spring break, anytime I’d suggested the family bring in volunteer labor in exchange for room and board with a program like World Wide Opportunities on Organic Farms, my ideas had been shot down. Just like all my plans for the farm.

“When Lia started setting up the new community market, I expanded my kitchen garden and canning operation. I need help, and we have the room.” She gestures vaguely upstairs. “So I signed up, and these girls are coming.”

“I wish you’d’ve talked to me first,” I said, struggling to keep my temper in check. “I could’ve gotten you set up with people who know what they’re doing. But of course, no one ever listens to my ideas, whereas anything Lia or Molly says goes.”

“We’re doing just fine, Samuel—which you’d know if you ever came home.” My grandmother would never raise her voice at me in front of a stranger, but her tone shifts just enough to cut.

“I’m sorry, Gran. I’ve just been⁠—”

“Busy,” she says, finishing for me. “I know you work hard. In any case, you are always welcome here.”

“I know, Gran. But it makes more sense for me to have a place near the main office.”

Her lips press together briefly, but she forces a smile as she turns to Carlos. “I’d feed you all lunch, but I promised I’d pick up Diane from the Crowders’ farm.”