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“Okay, so Saturdays are our busiest day with the horses. We have to clean their stalls, sanitize and refill their water troughs, feed them, check their hooves, groom them, bathe them, and take them out for some exercise.”
Piper’s eyes widened. “Wow. That’s a lot of work.”
Lincoln chuckled. “This whole farm is a lot of work. That’s why we have so many workers running around. Your grandpa and I can’t do it all ourselves.”
Piper glanced around, noticing several farmhands and nodding. “Okay, what first?”
“Usually we take all the horses out to the pasture to graze for a bit so we can clean their stalls. Then, we’ll take them out for a ride and finish off with their bath and food.”
“Man, they have it made. I wish I was a horse,” I teased, giving Lincoln a coy grin.
Piper giggled, and Lincoln shook his head. “Let’s get to work.”
After a few hours of working with the horses, we headed inside for lunch. Mrs. Bennett made grilled cheese sandwiches with tomato soup for us, then Lincoln and I took Piper into the fields to harvest some strawberries so we could make jam with Lincoln’s mom later that afternoon.
Piper carried one basket, and I carried the other as we followed Lincoln to the strawberry patch. Several farmhands tended to the crops, and they all greeted Lincoln warmly as we passed by. From what I’d seen since we first met, Lincoln’s family treated their employees with respect and kindness, and Mr. Bennett made sure everyone was well taken care of.
Lincoln squatted down at the end of one of the rows of the red fruit. He picked one and held it up. “These look perfect; they’ll make a great jam.”
Piper smiled and knelt next to her dad. He handed her the strawberry, and she put it in her basket. Then, he pushed back the large leaves of the plant, explaining, “The fruit is near the ground, so you have to move the leaves out of the way to get to the actual strawberry.”
Piper nodded as she picked the fruit from the stem and placed it in her basket. We continued down the rows, harvesting the strawberries until both baskets were full.
Wiping the sweat from my brow, I stood. Although summer was almost over, the sun and heat were still out in full force.
“Is this enough?” Piper came over to me, lifting her basket for me to see how much she’d gathered.
I raised my eyebrows. “Looks like we’re going to have a lot of jam when we’re done with all these.”
She smiled. “Really? How many?”
Lincoln came over and took our baskets. “Oh, yeah. That’s more than enough. At least five jars’ worth.”
Piper giggled as Lincoln turned and started carrying our baskets back toward the farmhouse. “Let’s drop these off at the house, then we’ll head to the orchard.”
We took the strawberries inside and gave them to Lincoln’s mom to wash, then made our way to the orchard. Lincoln’s farm had fruit trees of every kind, and Piper’s mouth gaped in awe when we reached the first row of trees. “Wow. How many kinds of trees do you have?”
Lincoln chuckled. “Well, we have several kinds of apple, peach, orange, lemon, and pear.”
“Wow,” she repeated, eyes scanning the seemingly endless rows of trees. “I’m glad this isn’t my job.”
Lincoln and I both laughed as we entered the orchard.
“Now, the best kind of apples for pies, in my opinion, are Golden Delicious. They hold up the best when baking,” Lincoln explained as he led Piper to a tree with yellow apples.
“Those are my favorite,” I commented, approaching the tree and reaching up for one of the fruits. “They’re the best when they have some red on them, like this one.”
I picked the apple and showed it to Piper. She took the fruit from me, furrowing her brows. “I’ve never had this kind of apple before. My mom always buys the red ones.”
I smiled. “Try it. See if you like it.”
Piper bit into the apple. Her eyes widened as she chewed her bite, a grin spreading over her lips. “Yummy. This is good.”
My smile widened as Lincoln said, “Like mother, like daughter.”
We filled our baskets with the ripest apples from the orchard before heading back to the house. As we entered the kitchen, Lincoln’s mom smiled at Piper. “What have you brought me now, sweet angel?”
Piper held up her basket with a toothy grin. “Apples for pie.”
