Chapter 1

Jessie and her father had never really "fit in," but then they were never in a town long enough to try. Soon Dad would have their old, green, Astro van, packed with their few, meager belongings, and their white, 6x12 trailer, full of tools, hooked up, and they were rolling down the road.

But something felt different about Kingsberry. Perhaps it was from her first waking moments as they drove in that fall morning. The sun, glistening from every hard surface on the ground as it melted the night frost. The leaves that were still clinging to the trees in all their fall splendor, as if to wrap the county in a warm, red and orange blanket, comforting it's residents before the winter cold. The roadside was adorned with wonderfully aged split railed fences, that seemed to merely decorate borders of properties, but offered little in the way of actual protection. And occasionally behind the trees, the livestock fences would poke through, and offer glimpses to the horse properties and small family farms neatly tucked into the landscape. It may have been new to her, technically, but the town was as familiar as home, and seemed to have been plucked right from a Hallmark movie.

It had been six months since they rolled into town, and she still expected to wake up in the van every morning, but was always pleasantly surprised by her alarm clock that greeted her at 5:05, regardless of day or weather. Twenty-five minutes was all she ever felt she needed in the morning. It was just enough time to throw on her Carharts, make some coffee (for her father, she couldn't stand the taste of it), and have her banana and wheat toast with raspberry jam. Then, time to leave Miss Asburey's basement (they were renting in exchange for caring for her horses) and out to the barn (to feed said horses) and off to start tending to whatever work they managed to contract for the next seasons.

Her father, Nelson (who felt like that was a grandfather name and went by "Nels") was starting to show the signs of age, and a whiskey binging lifestyle that he had been trying to neatly conceal. But hiding his "road wear" was something that, dusty work cloths and his tattered Dale Earnhardt 3 cap, were no longer able to do. He moved slower, his hands were getting clumsy, and it was getting more difficult to get him out the door on time. This was the second town where Jessie had started picking up the slack, and so far she felt as though she was doing it better than last time.

The daughter of a "career farmhand" left Jessie with few ties to her femininity, her long hair, she always felt, was her identity as a woman. Livestock didn't much care if your lips were glossy, perfectly blended blush never did much for "critters" as Nels so frequently called them. Her hands were rougher than most boys, and she had a nervous habit of nail biting. Her hair, she always left long, to remind herself of who she was. And bothersome as it was, she had never imagined making it any shorter.

As consistent as alarm clocks, that are properly set can be, they still tend to fail when the power goes out, today was that day. She woke to find her faithful alarm clock blinking twelve, and she could hear the swishing of Miss Asburey's cloths washer upstairs, a sound she had only heard once before, and that was at nine in the morning. A quick glance at her prepaid cell phone and it was confirmed, 8:53. She rushed to get dressed, and to the next room to wake Nels, who had long stopped setting alarm clocks, and was completely dependent on Jessie's two knock "wake-up" rap on the door. In a flustered rush they headed out the door, ready to start apologizing for today's wrecked schedule, and as Nels often said "Hurry every chance you get." It was an hour drive down Interstate 5 from Miss Asburey's to the Blankenship farm, just outside a little coast town Washington tried to forget. And with their late start, they were greeted by a morning traffic jam from a semi-truck, whose poorly secured load shifted when the driver avoided a deer, and successfully blocked 3 lanes of traffic. Upon arrival at the scene, Jessie dug into her chest pocket on her coveralls to find her cell phone, she thrust it in Nels direction and gave simple instructions, "Call the Blankenships." It was a slow creep past the flares, sheriff's deputies, and big-rig tow truck, but they were back up to the speed limit after twenty or so minutes of stop/start driving. They were finally able to move at a consistent enough speed to cover some miles, and both started mentally preparing for which job they might skip, and re-prioritizing their days.

After arriving at nearly eleven o'clock, they scurried from the van to find Randall and his son Danny to see what they had missed, and try to get caught back up. Randall had been scratching his head over a large piece of tractor equipment, the mower-conditioner. A look of relief came over him when he saw Nels and his daughter approaching, and he gave a big wave with his camo Cabela's hat in hand.

"Well, nothing like a morning without farmhands to remind the family what work looks like!" Randall called out, replacing his hat on his fat bald head, and looking out of the corner of his eye at Nels, like he owed him something.

Nels looked down, feeling some guilt for never setting an alarm clock and leaving it up to his 17 year old daughter to get them both out the door. "I'm sorry Randy, we-"

"I'll not hear any more apologies," Randall cut in sharply, "once on the phone was enough, mishaps are part of life, and all we can do is move on." Randall was frequently very blunt, but was also very understanding and kind natured... you just had to know him to see it that way. "Jessie, you and Danny run out to the silage silo with that small, access door we talked about replacing yesterday. Nels I need your help with this old MoCo again."

The door was sitting by the tractor that pulled the mower in, as if Randall knew the exact moment his tardy help was arriving. Danny raced to pick it up, not out of courtesy to Jessie, but to hold one more thing over her head.

"Must have been nice to sleep in for once." He said smiling.

"Do you have to start already, Danny?"

"Goodness Jess! I'm just sayin' I wish I could have a nice leisurely morning sometime. Lay in bed while the rest of the world is bustling to get ready, sip on some coffee, take a nice long shower, then wander in to work around lunch. You know we had to get Mom and Grandad out here? Even brought out little Conner so we could get the milking done, and he was two hours late for school because of it!"

There was a taunt to his voice Jessie couldn't stand, she knew he was kidding, but she believed her work ethic was the cornerstone of her character, and his joking felt like an attack.

"My morning was anything but leisurely Danny." She said, with an irritated tone in her voice. "But like Dad told you over the phone, the power outage this morning killed my alarm clock, and then we ran into that traffic jam on I-5, we have already apologized to your Dad. Besides, looks like you took the morning off too, did you get anything but milking done before we got here, or did you just hide in the barn waiting in agony for my pretty face to come up the drive?"

"Your pretty face? Half the time I forget your even a-"

"It's like working with half a person around you, I swear I finish twice the work you do in a day." She cut him off, enraged at even the thought of his last sentence.

He was out of comebacks. She usually did get more done in a day than he did, and he didn't know how to account for it. It had been something he was somewhat self-conscience of since she started, he grew up on that farm, was two years older than her, and felt more accomplished since he had a high school diploma and she had a GED. So they walked to the silo, and finished that project in silence.

But some where between hanging the door, and walking back, Danny worked up the nerve to start talking to Jessie again.

"My dirt bike got here last night, wanna come to the shop and check it out?" He asked with the excitement of a twelve year old.

"We still have to load the truck for the morning feed, haul wood back to the house, move some feed to barn one, and catch-up on who knows what else we missed this morning, plus the evening milking..."

"Come-on Jessie, it'll just be a minute."

"There is too much to get done today Danny, maybe tomorrow when we are less rushed." She was trying to sound understanding, she didn't want him to think she was blowing him off, but he was waring on her a bit.

"You wouldn't feel so rushed if you came in when normal people start working." He said, trying to be playful.

"Danny, you wouldn't know what 'normal' people were. Most normal boys don't make sure they have perfect hair before shoveling manure first thing in the morning." His last comment killed her patience and pushed her right into defensive mode.

"At least I care something about my hair, not like that misplaced horsetail hanging off the back of your head. Can you still call them split ends if the split runs half-way up your back? We've got some rope, old as Pa, ain't as frayed as that mess."

Any other day, and Jessie may not have even heard it. She liked Danny, and the best way she could show it was to give him a hard time, and ignore anything hurtful he might say in returning the favor. But after a failed alarm clock, missing breakfast, and the traffic jam, Jessie's thick farmhand skin had wore thin, and she did what any girl might do after being repeatedly insulted, she cried. Their paths split and she ran to the nearest outbuilding for cover, doing all she could to hold it together till he was out of sight. It was the crying that reminded her most of all she was a girl, because as the warm tears ran down her cheeks, a memory rushed in. And she could see her mom, kneeling by her bedside wiping Jessie's tears away with her hair, and singing Jessie her very own verse to "Jesus Love's Me." She was comforting Jessie, after she overheard the screaming that would follow Nels' return most Saturday nights. "Jessie, I always want you to remember, you are Mommy's girlie-girl, and even if I'm not with you, I love you big as the sky."

She hid behind the shack the Blankenships called the "cow garage" a building just big enough for their white and rusting 1982 flatbed f-250. Her tired and defeated frame resting against the graying side of the building, she grabbed her hair that draped over her left shoulder wiped her own tears, and looked at that big blue sky. Memories like that didn't help her really feel stronger, and she still wrestled with the thought of her mom actually looking down on her from above. Bittersweet was a poor description of her feelings connected to memories of her mother. What would start as a loving memory would be drowned by the feeling of abandonment, and the questions that fill the minds of suicide survivors.

She looked back down at her hair, angry with herself for this moment of weakness. She rushed back to their van, opened the tool box, grabbed their sharpest shears, and started to cut her hair off at the pony tail. The work shears were woefully, inadequate for her thick, dark hair. And with every, hair-pulling stroke from the shears, she felt a little satisfaction. As if each time she felt pain from the shears, pulling more than cutting, it was a pat on the back to her forward progress. And then the moment when she was totally through, she pulled her hand from behind her head to see what she had done, the satisfaction had instantly melted to regret.
Her most prominent, visual link to her femininity now laying in her hands. "Was this how impulsively Mom had ended things? Could it have been this knee jerk?" The questions seemed to knock the strength from her knees and she steadied herself with her now opened and empty palms on the floor of the van. She had to deal with the reality of her day still, and that she had a lot of work to do yet. She picked herself up, slammed the doors on the van, and rushed back to the cow garage to get the flatbed so it could be loaded with the next day's hay. She couldn't waste anymore time on her "feelings" today, and she gave little thought to what response she would get. But it would be the response of Nels that would surprise her the most.