Let’s write a story – Chapter Five
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CHAPTER FIVE
SIERRA
Sierra held a red plaid shirt up to her chest and studied the effect in her mirror.
Too farmish. She tossed it on her bed and grabbed another option from her closet. Her favorite bold green scoop neck was next. Holding it to her collarbone, she admired the way the rich emerald shade made her eyes pop.
“Are you going somewhere special, Aunt See?” Noah skipped over to her bed and plopped onto the mattress.
Sierra frowned at her reflection. Too dressy. With a sigh, she tossed the green top onto the growing pile of rejects. Noah stretched out, knocking his feet together.
“What time is it, buddy?” Sierra pulled a cream-colored Henley from a drawer and held it up. She looked at Noah in the mirror.
“The big hand is on the ten and the little hand is on the nine.” His face scrunched as he pointed at the wall clock, counting under his breath. “…forty-five, fifty. It’s nine-fifty.”
“Eight-fifty. See how the little hand isn’t at the nine yet? Good job.”
Noah beamed. “You should wear that shirt.”
“Oh yeah? Why?” She pulled a pair of brown alpaca socks from another drawer.
Noah hopped off her bed, coming over to stroke the shirt she held. “Because it’s your favorite and it’s soft.”
Sierra laughed. It was soft because she wore it all the time. He was right. “Good point. You go downstairs and keep an eye out for Mrs. Meadows and Mr. Zach, okay?”
“Yes, ma’am.” The boy saluted and ran from the room.
As Sierra came down the stairs, Noah called from the living room. “They’re here!”
Her heart skipped a beat. Right on time. She rounded the landing as Noah flung the front door open and bolted onto the porch.
“Jacket, buddy.” She grabbed his denim jacket from the coat hook. Through the screen door, she tracked him bouncing from step to step.
“Trouble. You’re only bringing trouble.” Her mother glared from her favorite relciner, facing the TV still playing the children’s show Noah had been watching.
“Mom, be nice. Mrs. Meadows is looking forward to visiting with you.”
“You mean keeping me occupied so I don’t ask how he plans to pay for the electricity,” her mother muttered, pulling her frayed cardigan tight across her chest. “We can’t afford to run up our utility bills, Sierra. You’re throwing good money after bad.”
Sierra bit her tongue and counted silently. One alpaca, two alpaca, three alpaca.
“Why don’t you tell Mrs. Meadows about your last trip to Africa? I’m sure she’d love to see your pictures.”
Her mom perked up. “Grab my photo album.”
Most people kept their memories electronically, but despite her mom’s adventurous nature, she’d still insisted on physical prints. Sierra found the Africa album and handed it to her mother before stepping out onto the porch.
Zach and his aunt approached the house. Mrs. Meadows lifted a decorative tote bag. “I come bearing gifts.”
Zach tucked a hand under his aunt’s arm, guiding her up the porch steps. He grinned. “And she brought preserves as well.”
Sierra’s cheeks heated, but she ignored his teasing. “Welcome. Come inside. My mom is waiting to see you.”
Zach looked over his shoulder toward the barn. “If you don’t mind, I’d love to see that steel building first.”
Mrs. Meadows tapped his forearm. “Zachary, manners?”
“It’s okay.” Sierra slipped into her jacket. “Noah, would you take Mrs. Meadows inside to see Bibi?”
“But I want to go with you and Mr. Zach.”
Mrs. Meadows jiggled the tote bag, making the contents clink. “What about my preserves? I brought an extra jar for a special boy.”
Noah’s eyes widened, his expressions displaying his dilemma. The preserves won. “Come on in!” he said, tugging the screen door open.
Sierra led Zach down the porch and turned left. A path of flattened grass took them toward a row of trees shielding the steel building from the main house.
“So, how are the new locks holding up?” Zach asked. He kept pace beside her.
Sierra breathed in the light scent of hay in the cool morning air, listening to the familiar, quiet hum of the herd in the distance. “Too early to tell. The lock was still intact when I did the morning chores, but they were still sleeping.” She pointed across the yard. The faded red barn sat closer to the house on the right. “That’s where we keep the alpacas.”
“Where does Reg go when he gets out?”
“Thankfully, his escape attempts only leave him out in the field here. The perimeter fencing keeps him contained. Usually.”
Zach studied the multiple lines of fencing around the barn. “Usually?”
Sierra ducker her head, not sure if she wanted to admit to a stranger—and potential tenant—just how clever Reg was. But if Zach was going to be working on the property, he needed to know. “It only happened once, but Reg strolled right up to the back porch. Turns out, he’s smarter than he looks and figured out how to nudge the latch open. I’ve since replaced that latch with a heavier one.”
They walked through the row of trees, the green and orange leaves providing a brief canopy with cool air and damp earth. The farm sounds disappeared in a peaceful quiet.
“There it is.”
The dark evergreen steel building stood silent and proud in its secluded pocket. “This time of year it’s not visible from the house.”
Zach quickened his steps, reaching the white entry door ahead of her, his hand already on the knob.
She chuckled. “Go ahead, it’s open.”
He stepped inside, catching the door with his arm, and waving her through in a gentlemanly fashion.
Sunlight from the two skylights highlighted specks of dust floating around the various boxes stacked in the center of the space. Sierra flipped the wall switch. Overhead fluorescent lights buzzed to life, revealing a large space that could easily fit two farm vehicles.
While she lingered by the entrance, Zach strode across the concrete floor. He skirted boxes and stopped in the center of the room, turning in a slow circle as his gaze moved from floor to high ceiling.
“The light in here is incredible,” he murmured, his voice echoing slightly. “Where’s the electrical panel?”
She pointed to the far wall. He popped the gray metal door open, examining the breakers. He walked the length of the building, crouching to inspect spots on the floor, running his hand along different spots in the walls, studying the roof.
When his attention returned to her, his eyes simmered with excitement, though his mouth was set in a tight line. “This could work.”
Sierra stiffened, oddly defensive of her grandfather’s old workshop. “Could work?”
“I’d need to upgrade the electrical panel and install proper ventilation, if you’d be agreeable to it. Everything has to be up to code for commercial equipment.”
“That sounds costly.” And not within her budget.
Zach rubbed his jaw. “Running my equipment on your current set-up would blow the property’s transformer at best. At worst, it’s a fire hazard. We can’t compromise on safety.”
“Of course not.” Sierra crossed her arms. “Maybe this isn’t a good fit. My family and the herd come first. The only reason I’m considering renting this building is to bring in extra income. I can’t afford to sink money into the building.”
“I understand.” Zach looked around the building, “What if I pay for the upgrades out of pocket and you give me a break on the rent for the first year?”
“A year?” Sierra shook her head. “I was thinking a month-to-month until we see if it works for both of us.”
Zach frowned. “If I’m investing in this building, I need the security of a long-term lease.” He walked toward the back wall, gesturing with wide swings of his arms. “I’d put the furnace here and have a large ventilation hood fixed to the wall.”
He stepped to the wooden workbench, gripping the edge and shaking it. “This is a great bench, nice and sturdy. I’d utilize this space for the more detailed work.”
The praise of her grandpa’s workbench weaved its way through her heart. His passion filled the room. She could almost picture the glowing glass and roaring fire.
Still, reality dragged her back. She looked out the side window toward the distant barn.
“What you’re suggesting is a lot of work for a space that you need right away,” Sierra said softly, hope draining from her. “Even if I were to agree, there’s no guarantee you could have everything done before you have to move from your current space. You have to hire licensed contractors, pull permits, and get inspections. That could take months.”
Zach leaned against the workbench, running a hand through his hair as he looked around the space again. “You’re right. The timeline doesn’t work. The big furnace is out.”
Hearing him say the words out loud caused a pang of disappointment in her. She needed the extra income, yes, but she also wanted to help him out. Despite not knowing him well, she liked him.
Zach stepped away from the bench and paced the length of the building, skirting around boxes in the middle of the floor, muttering to himself. Something about Zach’s brainstorming was encouraging. He wasn’t a quitter.
He froze, snapped his fingers, and pivoted back to her. Excitement burned in the brown liquid of his eyes. His woodsy scent wrapped around her as he came close.
“Okay, hear me out,” he said, his voice vibrating. “What if I split my work? I can run my small torches and smaller kiln on the existing set-up. I’ll do the detail work here. It’s safe, and doesn’t require any structural changes. I’d just have to rent time at another studio for the large-scale furnace work.”
Sierra uncrossed her arms, her pulse quickening. “That sounds much safer for the farm. But what about your heavy equipment? You still have to move it out of your current space.”
“Aunt See! Is Mr. Zach gonna blow his bubble glass here?” Noah pulled Mrs. Meadows by the hand into the building. His mouth was red around the edges, probably from enjoying the preserves. The boy bounded over to Zach, peering up at the man in adoration.
Zach smiled down at the boy, his hand dropping gently on Noah’s shoulder. The easy, natural warmth of the gesture made Sierra’s heart do a flip.
He looked from Noah to his aunt. “Maybe some small ones, buddy. But I need a place to store my large furnaces until I arrange for a permanent shop.”
“Of course you can use my garage,” Mrs. Meadows said without missing a beat.
Sierra pulled a clean tissue from her pocket and wiped Noah’s face. He swatted her hand. “Aunt See, I can do it.”
“Did you leave any preserves for me?” She watched as he smeared the remnants of his snack across his chin, and then turned to Mrs. Meadows. “How was your visit with my mom?”
Zach’s aunt took a wipe from her purse and handed it to Noah. “Good. Those Africa pictures are breathtaking. Your mom should make a book about her travels. She excused herself to rest, though. I hope I didn’t wear her out.”
“Mr. Zach, wanna see the alpacas now?” Noah hopped from one foot to the other.
“Sure.” He turned to Sierra. “Can we talk later today?”
“Of course.”
She followed the three out of the building, locking the door behind her. A low hissing sound caught her attention from the side of the building. Leaving the others, she rounded the corner and found a steady stream of water coming from the exterior spigot. Her mother’s warnings about the utility bills echoed in her mind.
Sierra lunged forward and grabbed the cold metal handle, but when she twisted it, the corroded piece broke off in her hand.
“Everything okay over here?” Zach’s voice drifted from behind her.
“Just a broken spigot,” she said, forcing her voice to remain calm, despite the rising distress of another expense. “I have to run to the house to turn the water off. Noah can take you to the barn. I’ll be right behind you. Don’t go through the gates until I get there though.”
ZACH
Zach watched Sierra jog toward the house, appreciating the way the morning sun highlighted the shades of brown as her hair swished. He pictured creating that same collection of colors in glass.
“I’m going to pop back inside the house to say good-bye to Sierra’s mom.” Aunt Jenny said, waving as she followed Sierra’s path through the trees.
Zach turned to Noah, who was marching in the other direction, across the wide stretch of open grass toward the barn.
“You like alpacas, Mr. Zach?” Noah bounce walked beside Zach, his small steps trying to keep up with Zach’s longer stride.
Zach slowed his pace. “Well, I don’t know much about them, but I like Reg.”
“Me too. Reg is my favorite. Look, there they are!”
Green grass gave way to a packed dirt and gravel path. The serene quiet of the steel building was placed by light thuds and melodic hums. A cluster of alpacas milled near the fence.
As Zach and Noah approached, something seemed off. Zach kept silent as he studied the group.
“Oh no, Reg got out, again.” Noah pointed.
With his black markings, Reg stood out from the herd of varying browns, creams, and whites. Getting closer, Zach saw the problem—the alpacas were on the wrong side of the fencing, standing loose in the outer yard.
“Looks like Reg isn’t the only escape artist.” Zach murmured. “Noah, where is the main gate?”
Before they could reach any gate, they were surrounded. In a sea of alpacas, Zach lost sight of Noah.
“Noah, you okay?”
An excited boy’s giggle calmed him. The backs of Zach’s hands tingled as soft, cottony alpaca fiber brushed him. He kept his arms against his sides.
“Don’t be scared, Mr. Zach. Just talk nice to them. They like it when you’re nice.” Noah’s instruction floated over the fluffy sea.
“Talk nice. Nice alpaca.” A white head moved in his direction, large, dark brown eyes observing him. “What’s your name, huh? You’re a good looking guy.”
The alpaca turned its head and the group slowly moved away from him.
“Oh my goodness! Noah, where are you?”
Sierra jogged toward them, her face flushed. She stopped short at the edge of the herd, searching the sea of fleece as her mouth moved in a rapid, silent count. Then she scanned the perimeter of the yard before dropping her shoulders in a sigh.
“How did you get out, ladies?” She waded through the herd, holding her hands out to guide them one by one, her movements deliberate.
Wanting to help, Zach threw his arms out, causing several animals to jerk away and draw closer to Noah.
Sierra sent him a sharp glance and shook her head. “Just stay where you are, please. Sudden movements can make them nervous. I don’t want them scattering.”
She crooned to each animal as she expertly led them toward the barn. Soon Zach could see Noah’s jean clad legs between alpacas. Three surrounded the boy, standing still and moving only their heads. One by one they would swivel their heads to stare at Zach, and then turn away.
“Noah’s okay, ladies. Thanks for keeping an eye on him.” Sierra stepped between the group and Zach, tossing her sentences over her shoulder. “Sorry about this. You’re a stranger and they can be very protective.”
Zach followed at a distance. “They were protecting Noah from me? Fascinating.”
Once Sierra, with a little help from Noah, got the herd back behind the fencing, she pulled the gate hard until the latch clicked loudly. Her shoulders slumped and then she straightened and turned, embarrassment coloring her cheeks. “You alright, guys?”
“Does this happen often?” Zach asked, walking up to the perimeter fence. “I thought Reg was the only escape artist.”
Sierra looked over at the barn. “This is the first time. Reg?”
The black and white alpaca popped his head out from a stall, tilting it as if to ask, who, me?
“Looks like he’s actually innocent this time.”
“Hey, Reg,” Zach called out. “You teaching the ladies your tricks?”
Reg lifted his snout and pulled back inside the barn.
Zach could understand Sierra’s hesitancy over his glassblowing now. A glass studio with and unpredictable herd could be a problem.
As Sierra bent down in front of her nephew, Zach studied the heavy metal gate latch. It wasn’t loose or rusted—well used, but in good condition. He slid the mechanism back and forth, noting the deliberate lift and pull required to open it. No animal could have nudged it open.
Sierra stood, running her fingers through her hair. “I can’t believe I did this. I was so distracted by an unpleasant phone call this morning. I must have pulled the gate closed without checking that it locked.”
She looked down at the ground and chewed her lip. “Maybe I need to replace every latch.”
Zach was taken by a surprise impulse to stroke her worry away. Instead, he tucked his fingers into his jean pockets. “I can help you double-check all of them before I leave.”
A flicker of relief crossed her face before she masked it. “That’s a generous offer, but I can take care of it. Noah can help me, right buddy?”
Noah nodded, somewhat subdued. Zach wondered if the boy felt his aunt’s tension. He cleared his throat. “Well, I should get back to my studio and make those calls. About the deposit…”
“Why don’t we wait until we have a better idea if this will work for both of us?” Sierra said.
Zach agreed, uncertainty taking root in his chest. Maybe this wouldn’t work after all. It had nothing to do with the steel building—his plan was solid. And it wasn’t even about the escaping animals—locks could be upgraded easily enough. He watched Sierra rub her temples as she guided Noah back to the farmhouse. She had a lot of responsibilities on her plate and he respected her devotion to her farm and family. The creative high he’d been on since the option presented itself yesterday came crashing down.
The ride back to town was quiet. Aunt Jenny, mercifully, didn’t press for conversation.
But the questions still churned in his head. Could he make this work? Could he help Sierra or would he make things worse for her?
Okay, readers, what happen next? Comment below.
The path of true love never runs smooth. Let’s get Sierra and Zach together but throw a wrench in the works.
Chapter Four
