“Welcome to Hildonen Farms,” Kate announced proudly.
With a flourish, she gestured with one hand toward a rectangular building that Natalie presumed housed a number of dairy cows. Off to her right stood a large, white clapboard farmhouse built atop a gently sloping hill. The home featured a wide wraparound porch on which hung a swing that was so folksy it made Natalie thirst for a lemonade. It was an idyllic setting, Natalie thought, and the rustic home reminded her of the one in Field of Dreams, a movie Michael watched anytime it came on cable.
Kate was more interested in talking about her cows than her home.
“There are six hundred and fifty Holstein milk cows on the farm, and that gives us around six thousand gallons of milk each day. We milk twenty-four hours a day in three-hour shifts, and then we ship off to a plant in St. Louis. It’s always a thrill when we get to see our friends and neighbors using our product.”
She beamed a smile back to the kids who now looked to be in awe, far more so than the famed arch had rendered them.
“After you get settled in your rooms we’ll walk the fence together so you get a sense of things, see how our lives really revolve around these fine animals. We have a simple motto here on Hildonen Farms: the more we take care of our cows, the more our cows take care of us.”
“Do they ever get away? The cows, I mean,” Addie asked.
Kate returned a hearty chuckle.
“Well, I assumed you didn’t mean Chuck—that’s my husband. Though I reckon there are times he’d like to make a break for it.” The sound of Kate’s wholehearted laugh made Natalie remember how easily her friend always cracked herself up.
Every minute in Kate’s company made it possible for Natalie to breathe easier. She embraced the feeling of sunshine streaming in through her open window. Along with that warming sensation came a breeze carrying the scent of grass and farm life. The strange blend of smells reminded Natalie that the world was larger than her troubles. It was a vibrant place full of hope and possibilities.
A sense of peace enveloped Natalie like a comforting hug. Kate’s farm was a gourmet feast for the senses, easing Natalie’s perpetual stress and fatigue, and at last she could relax.
As if attuned to the shift that had taken place, Kate sent Natalie a gentle smile that seemed to convey the words she’d longed hear: you’re safe now.
“To answer your specific question, Addie, we use RID tags on all our cows. Not only do they help us track where they are, those tags tell us all sorts of things about our animals.”
Kate pulled over to the side of the road, where a large black-and-white cow grazed on a patch of grass. The bovine appeared undisturbed by these young visitors clambering out of the truck, doors slamming behind them as they rushed over to have a closer look.
“This is 1752,” said Kate. “That’s her tag. The tag transfers all the data to my computer and phone. You two use computers, right?”
“We have iPads,” Bryce replied chirpily.
“Well, there you have it,” said Kate. “Now, let me tell you about 1752 here.” Kate checked her phone.
“This one here is pregnant. Hundred twenty-two days. Our cows usually have a calf every thirteen months. 1752 was born on July third, almost Independence Day, a big celebration around these parts, and she weighs in at a slight eight hundred and twenty-two pounds. Good and healthy.”
“I think 1752 is a terrible name for a cow,” Addie said mournfully.
Kate set her hands to her hips.
“Oh? And what do you think we should call her then?”
“Call her Teddy,” Bryce said emphatically. “That’s the name of my bear that’s missing. Is Daddy going to meet us here? Will he bring Teddy?”
Kate and Natalie exchanged glances.
“We’ll talk about plans with Daddy later,” Natalie said brusquely before ushering the kids back into the truck.
Kate put the vehicle in gear.
“Bryce, I’m going to add a note to the system that from this day forward, cow 1752 shall henceforth be called Teddy. We’ll make it short for Theodora so there’s no confusion.”
“That’s from Hamilton,” Bryce shouted from the backseat. He seemed quite pleased to have known the reference.
“That’s Theodosia,” Addie corrected him sternly. “Not Theodora.” Bryce stuck his tongue out at his sister. Mother radar helped Natalie catch the gesture in her peripheral vision, but she didn’t correct the behavior. Rather, she welcomed the bit of normality it represented.
“Either way, we will call her Teddy,” said Kate, as she made the turn onto the driveway leading to the house.
“We do farm tours for kids all the time here,” she added, with glee in her voice. “I’ll have Hank, our chief farmhand, show you two around. Your mom and I need to talk and catch up.”
The interior of the farmhouse was mostly wood throughout, warm and inviting, with a few well-worn rugs and comfy furniture that made Natalie feel right at home. After so many hours and days spent in close quarters, the kids rejoiced at having bedrooms of their own.
“I want to milk a cow,” Bryce exclaimed with delight as he gazed out the window of his second-floor bedroom at the cow-dotted pastures.
“How about feeding a baby calf?” Kate said, clapping her hands together, eagerness shining in her eyes and face.
“Really?” Bryce’s expression brightened.
“Really.”
Some minutes later, the kids were off with Hank, a wiry man in his late fifties who Natalie thought wore a cowboy hat as well as Clint Eastwood did. After everyone was gone, Natalie and Kate retreated to the kitchen. Kate made tea and the two women sat at a pinewood table in the center of the airy room, catching up on years in a matter of minutes. Eventually, they got to the heart of the matter.
“So Nat, why did you come here? Talk to me. Whatever it is, I’ll help you in any way I can.”
Natalie guessed Kate hadn’t seen the Facebook post, so had no idea her friend was a missing person. Natalie bit her bottom lip. Her eyes stung with the salt of gathering tears. Kate grabbed a box of tissues from a counter so Natalie could continue.
“I have to leave Michael,” she said. “We need to divorce, right away, but it’s complicated.”
“I’m so sorry to hear, but okay,” Kate said. “Lord help me, but I feel responsible. That night.”
Natalie managed a strained smile, thinking about that party Kate had dragged her to when she and Michael met.
“Not your fault. Nobody could have known.”
“Known what, that you’d end up divorcing?”
“No, there’s more to it than that. I guess I should just come right out and say it … my husband is a killer. He murdered his lover, Audrey Adler, who worked for my company, Dynamic Media.”
Kate’s ruddy complexion went pale.