Ashley stepped out of the cab, shouldered her bag, and handed the last of her cash to the driver.

The smell was the first thing to hit her. The musty stench of manure permeated the air, fermenting in the muggy heat of the midday sun. She raised a hand to her forehead to shield her eyes as she took in her surroundings.

It was definitely a farm. Fields of corn, barns, a big house that looked like it had been built by a skilled carpenter. A large pasture filled with grazing cows and horses. Chicago wasn’t even an hour away, and yet she had decided to come all the way out to this rural deadzone, surrounded by suburbia on all sides.

With a sigh, Ashley reached into her pocket and pulled out the flier that had brought her here. It wasn’t anything special. Just black text on a white background. “Farm hands wanted to help with harvest season. Room and board provided if necessary.”

If this didn’t work out, she wouldn’t even be able to afford a cab ride back to the city.

That was how desperation worked, she guessed.

Taking a deep breath, Ashley approached the large farmhouse. Nobody seemed to have noticed her arrival, so she was left to knock and wait anxiously for someone to come to the door, her hands clasped behind her tattered jeans.

After about a minute with no answer, she knocked again, louder this time, and called out, “Hello?”

Still no response. For all she knew the ad was really just meant to lure people to their unsuspecting doom at the hands of some serial killer. There were more than enough horror movies with a premise like that, and farms just seemed so much creepier when nobody was around.

“Can I help you, Ma’am?”

Ashley yelped as she whirled around. A girl stood before her, maybe about nineteen years old—the same age as Ashley. She was blonde, her hair twisted up in a tight french braid. She wore muddy overalls, but Ashley could tell they were hiding a surprisingly well muscled frame.

“Sorry,” the girl said, her grin threatening to make the freckles pop off her face. “Didn’t mean to startle you none. “Name’s Sam. Can I help ya?”

“I…” Ashley shook her head. Sam’s appearance, plus that perfect southern twang made her look like she had stepped off the cover of some cheesy Americana novel about the Dust Bowl. Or maybe this was just what people were like outside the city?

Sam crossed her arms over her chest. “Ma’am, it ain’t polite to stare, y’know. And you are on my porch and all. Figure I have a right to know what your business is.” While her words were cold, her smile betrayed any sense of true outrage.

Ashley blinked. “Sorry! I, uh. Here. The flier.” She thrust the flier towards Sam, as if it were a badge proclaiming her legitimacy. “And the name’s Ashley.”

Sam raised an eyebrow as she took the flier, then re-crossed her arms. Her bright blue eyes seemed to be sizing Ashley up and down, and Ashley subconsciously brushed her dark bangs out of her eyes.

“A skinny little thing like you? Shoot, never really expect much from those fliers. Sometimes we get a couple of migrant workers, maybe a homeless feller or two. This ain’t easy work, and we can’t pay much. Just minimum wage, plus food and a room if you need it.”

Relief washed over Ashley like a flood. Coming out here had been worth it after all. “I need the money. I’ll do the work.”

“Good to hear it. Hope you can follow through on that. You need the room, too?”

Ashley nodded.

“Alright. Well, if you’re keen to work, might as well get started right away.” Sam rested a hand on her hip. “You got any work clothes? Those ain’t gonna last long.”

Ashley glanced down at herself, and tugged at her faded t-shirt, sporting a logo for a band she had never heard of. She had a few other pairs of clothes in her bag, and while most people would probably consider them to be work clothes, she couldn’t afford to let any of them get ruined. “No, I don’t.”

Sam let out a long sigh. “S’alright. We’re about the same height, my clothes will probably fit you. Might be a little, uh, loose around the chest, but you’ll manage. Follow me.”

The interior of the farmhouse was much like the exterior. Wooden floors, wooden walls, wooden furniture. Family photos covered the walls. The place had an old, well worn and lived in smell to it, the kind that tickled a sort of nostalgia in Ashley’s brain, summoning vague memories of visiting her grandmother’s house when she was just a little girl.

“Just so we’re clear, all this is under the table,” Sam said as she led her up the stairs. “Not trying to be sketchy or scare you off, just the way it is. We ain’t here to try and exploit you or screw you over or nothing. Just an honest day's work for an honest day's pay.”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” It was exactly the kind of arrangement Ashley had been hoping for, and at least at first glance this seemed like a significantly better option than any other type of work she’d be able to find. Though the free room and food was the most important part of the equation.

Sam led Ashley into a bedroom and rooted through a closet, tossing old clothes onto the floor behind her.

Ashley took a moment to look around. The bedroom was pretty clean and sparsely decorated. A line of stuffed animals perched on top of a dresser, just next to a picture of a younger Sam standing with an adult couple. A modern looking laptop sat on a desk, a stark contrast to the old fashioned aesthetic everywhere else. A stack of thick textbooks rested next to the computer.

“Do you, uh, go to school?” Ashley asked, breaking the silence.

Sam stood up and tossed her a pair of thick jeans and a long sleeved plaid overshirt. “That should do ya for now. And yeah, I take online courses. Go ahead and get changed. You can leave your bag here for now.”

“Cool.” Ashley held the clothing in front of her, inspecting it. “And, uh, Sam?”

Sam paused as she was about to exit the room, looking back. “Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

---

“You can not be serious,” Ashley muttered as she did her best to breathe through her mouth.

Sam held out the pitchfork to her, expression flat. “Do I look like I’m joking, sug?”

Ashley grimaced at the hay and fecal matter that littered the floor of the barn. “I thought mucking out the stables was something only the protagonists of fantasy novels did before they find out they’re chosen one.”

Sam threw her head back and laughed, her golden braid swaying. “Well, I ain’t never heard that one before. But I’m afraid not. All that muck’s gotta go somewhere. Tell you what though, if you turn out to be ‘the chosen one’ of this here farm, let me know. I’d hate to have this place get attacked and burned down by some evil monsters.”

Ashley joined in Sam’s laughter with that. For a country girl, Sam was apparently full of surprises.

“Here,” Sam said, mirth still bubbling up from her voice as she handed Ashley a face mask and safety goggles. “You’ll want these. This is likely gonna be your whole day, and probably the next couple before you’re all done here. Don’t push yourself too hard, but don’t be slacking off neither.”

“Great.” Ashley put the mask and goggles on, then stuck her pitchfork in the muck, eyeing it suspiciously. “I thought that you needed help with the harvest.”

Sam rolled her eyes. “Do you know how to drive a combine?”

“Well, no, but—”

“Well no buts. Harvest season means loads of extra work to be done, but all the old chores still need doing. Your job is to focus on that, freeing up me and my brother to do the more complicated stuff. Don’t worry, if you stick around, I’ll teach you plenty. Holler if you need anything.”

Ashley sighed, dumping her first load of muck into a nearby wheelbarrow. For a roof over her head, shoveling manure couldn’t be that bad.

---

Hot water splashed against Ashley’s face, wiping away the sweat and grime and filth of the day.

Every part of her ached. She had never worked so hard in her life, and she was expected to do it all again tomorrow, too.

For now, at least, the hot shower was heaven. She couldn’t remember the last time she had taken a shower in a place with a working water heater. It must have been during gym class, back when she was still in high school.

Ashley scrubbed herself raw, until her skin all over was blisteringly pink. It felt wonderful just to be clean again. A part of her wanted to shave, but she didn’t have her own razors, and borrowing Sam’s without asking seemed rude.

When she was finally done, she toweled off, and got dressed in her own clothes again. As soon as she stepped outside the bathroom door, she heard a thunderous stampede of rushing feet charging towards her, and a small form slipped passed into the bathroom, slamming the door and locking it with an audible click.

Two identical boys, maybe ten years old followed after whoever had rushed into the bathroom, and began banging on the door. “Come on, Dylan! We have to use the bathroom too!”

“I made it first, quit complaining! Just go outside or something!”

Ashley could only stare. They were clearly twins, or even more likely, triplets, though she hadn’t gotten a good look at the one in the bathroom. “Uh…”

One of the boys blinked, and looked up at her. “Oh, hi, miss. You’re Ashley, right? Sam told me to tell you that dinner’s on the table.”

“Sure…” Ashley mumbled as both boys turned attention back to their brother. She made her way down the stairs. She could smell the food even as she rounded the corner into the living room, and it made her mouth water with anticipation.

“There ya are,” Sam said, looking up from a recliner where she was idly whittling, a wicked looking knife in hand. “Take a seat, get some eats.”

Ashley fidgeted. “I wouldn’t want to disturb you and your family. I can just take a plate to my room.”

“Nonsense!” a raspy voice said from behind her. She turned to see an old man, hunched over and shaking a cane at her. “Any whippersnapper that’s gonna help on our farm is gonna eat at our table. Ain’t no way around it.”

“You heard Pappy,” Sam said with a grin. She pocketed her knife, and led Ashley to a seat at the dining table. In just a few minutes a plate before her was stacked with roast ham and mashed potatoes and green beans and stuffed rolls. It was a veritable feast.

“Now, these here are my little brothers,” Sam said, pointing at the trio of triplets who had sat down across from Ashley. “Dylan, Taylor, and Craig. Don’t worry about telling them apart, they’ll just lie.”

“Nice to meet you, Ashley!” they all shouted in perfect unison, which wasn’t the least bit creepy at all.

“And this is my older brother, John. It’s me and him that do most of the work round here.”

“Howdy.”

John was tall, broad shouldered, well muscled, and had a thick dark beard. He looked like he had just stepped out of an issue of Lumberjacks Quarterly. He was the type of guy that most other girls would go absolutely nuts for.

Ashley felt her eyes track towards Sam and let out a soft sigh. She bit her lip, and decided to grab one of the rolls instead.

Pappy slammed a hand against the table, causing her to jump. “Hold on there missy! You can’t eat before we say grace.”

Sam shrugged. “How it goes. Since you’re the guest and all, care to lead us, Ashley?”

“I, uh…” Ashley’s eyes fell, and she drew her arms around her stomach. “I’m not really the religious type.”

“Come on now, sug,” Sam said, her eyes twinkling. “It ain’t about religion or God. At least, it doesn’t have to be. Grace is just about being thankful of the food on your plate. Understanding that a lot of hard work from a lot of people goes into you being able to live, right here in this moment. Don’t have to say nothing fancy. Anything at all will do.”

Well, that made a certain amount of sense. If that’s all they wanted, it was a small courtesy to give. Ashley clasped her hands in front of her as if she was praying, and mumbled, “Thanks for the food.”

“Amen!”

It was delicious, of course. Every bite was mouth watering, love and care seared into the edges of every tasty morsel. The table was lively: the triplets eagerly shared tales of how their day at school went; John and Sam talked farm work; Pappy bored everyone with stories about ‘the good old days.’

Ashley just stayed silent and ate her food. They prodded her with questions, but when she gave evasive answers, they didn’t push farther.

It was all a little overwhelming.

She’d never seen anything like this. It was the sort of thing that, until now, she’d only ever read about in books: home.

---

Ashley sat on the bed in the guest room, dressed in her pajamas. A part of her was ready to just pass out right then and there, but still she rummaged through her bags and pulled out one of the well-worn fantasy novels she had managed to take with her.

There came a knock on the door, and when Ashley said, “Come in,” Sam entered, carrying a bundle of sheets and blankets, and set them on the bed.

“Should be good with that,” Sam said, pulling up a chair from the nearby desk and sitting on it backwards. “You need anything else?”

Ashley smiled and brushed her hair back. “No, I’m good, thanks.”

“Good.”

Sam sat there in silence for about a minute, and Ashley turned back to her book.

“You did good work out there today,” Sam said, breaking the silence. “It’ll get easier if you stick around.”

Ashley closed her book and set it aside. “I plan to stay as long as you’ll have me.”

Sam smiled wide, flashing her pearly whites. “Well, we look forward to having you.”

Another awkward silence passed, only broken up by the chiming of a grandfather clock somewhere in the house.

“Look, Ash,” Sam said with a sigh as she tugged on her braid. “I dunno what kind of situation you’re in that brought you here, and I’m not one to pry. Your business is your own. Just know that, well, if you need someone to talk to, I’m told I’m a good listener.”

Ashley felt her cheeks heat up, and tears started to drift towards her eyes as she thought back on the events of the past week. It really couldn’t be this easy, could it? Everything about this place. These people seemed so... perfect.

The monster would crawl out from under the bed eventually. The past would catch up with her. It was just a temporary thing, a chance to save up some money without having to pay rent, to get back on her feet, to find somewhere to run.

But Sam… 

Ashley looked up, and met Sam’s baby blues. There was something in them she so rarely saw: sincerity. Ashley was a good judge of character. She had to be, with what she’d been through. Either Sam was as genuine and honest as she appeared, or she was the world’s greatest liar.

Ashley’s bottom lip trembled, but she turned it into a faint smile. “T-thanks. I’ll, uh, keep that in mind.”

Sam grinned again, bowed theatrically, and then headed for the door. “Sleep tight. There’s plenty more work tomorrow.”

---

Ashley tripped and fell to the ground, the crate of milk bottles clanging as it landed with her. She sat there, propped up on her arms as sweat poured off of her face and her breaths came in ragged gasps.

“Hey!” came Sam’s voice from afar. “Ash, you alright?”

“I can’t,” Ashley muttered when Sam had finally reached where she was sitting. “It’s too heavy. I’m not strong enough.”

Sam’s rough hands wrapped around her and pulled Ashley to her feet. “Sheesh, you don’t have to push yourself so hard. No need to hurt yourself. If you’re having trouble, just say so, alright?”

Ashley swallowed, and looked up at Sam. She had expected to be scolded, to be told to just get back to work, but Sam simply smiled, and handed her a water bottle.

“Come on, take a break, as long as you need. When you feel back up for it, it’s fine if you just take half crates.”



Ashley hissed as the sting of disinfectant ran through the long scratch running down her arm.

“Told ya,” Sam said as she pulled out a roll of bandages from the first aid kit. “Boco is the meanest cock I ever had the privilege of knowing. You’ll wanna keep your distance.

Ashley snorted with laughter, which threw Sam off balance. “Meanest cock? Really?”

Sam nodded and puffed out her chest. “Biggest, meanest, fluffiest cock I ever knew.” Her eyes were alight as she tied the bandage around Ashley’s arm. “What’s the matter? Not seeing what’s so funny here. Do you not like cocks or something?”

Ashley wished she could give an honest answer to that question, but that would require her to stop laughing.



“Over here, I’m open!” Dylan shouted, standing at the end of the hall and waving his arms.

Ashley could do nothing but sputter as a bundle of her laundry flew over her head and across the hallway. She would have jumped for it, but the flimsy towel she held around her chest kept her grounded.

“I’ve got your underwear!” Taylor yelled in an obnoxious sing-song, prancing at the other side of the hallway.

Craig guarded the entrance to the guest room, sticking his tongue out, so it wouldn’t be easy to just get to her bag either.

Ashley took a deep breath. She could wait until help arrived… but she couldn’t let those brats get their way. She could deal with this, even if it meant showing a little skin.

She backed into the bathroom briefly, and grabbed another towel. With her weapon in hand, she slowly stalked towards Dylan. He held the bundle, and as soon as he raised his arms to throw it again, she flung the extra towel into his face, then sprinted forwards, snatching the bundle of clothes from his arms.

The towel she was wearing slipped off her but she was already around the corner, and there was an open door she could run into, all she had to do was—

She collided with Sam, and fell backwards onto her rear.

Sam just smirked.

Ashley felt herself burn to a crisp. “I’m sorry, I’m, uh…”

“Come on now, Ash,” Sam said, laughing. “I live with the brats, I know how they work. Go ahead and get dressed, and I’ll go give ‘em all a whooping.”



“Hang on now, Ash,” Sam said as she wrapped her arms around Ashley from behind.

The week had passed by in a blur of work, work, and more work. It was intense, repetitive, dull, dirty, and mind-numbingly boring. But in a way, it was almost soothing. The ache of her muscles after a long day, the knowledge that she had accomplished something and done a good job. It wasn’t much, but it made her feel grounded in a way she never had before.

It wasn’t all just cleaning stables, either. Sam showed her how to gather chicken eggs, how to milk cows, and how to brush the horses. She was taught how and when to feed the animals, when to let them out to graze and how to call them back at night. She learned how to properly weed a garden, and dozens of other small farm chores.

Sam was patient. She gently corrected Ashley’s mistakes, and showed her how to do it over and over again if she was having trouble. She was there with water when Ashley needed it, told her to take a break when Ashley was ready to pass out. They would have lunch together, sitting on the fences, faces caked with sweat and grime, as Sam passed out homemade sandwiches.

But now it was the weekend, and Sam apparently ‘didn’t work on the sabbath.’ Ashley had been planning to just sit in her room all day reading and resting her tired body, but Sam had offered to show her the rest of the farm instead. Their mode of transport, however…

Hundreds of pounds of muscle and power rippled beneath Ashley’s legs as the horse plodded forward. She squeezed her eyes tight and gripped the saddle horn, trying not to think about how easy it would be for the beast to buck both of them off so they would fall and break their necks.

Sam let out a quiet sigh. “Come on now, Ash. Trevor can tell you’re nervous. I mean, he doesn’t care because he’s a stubborn old fart, but he can still tell. Relax a little. Everything’s gonna be alright. I’ve got you.”

Ashley took a deep, shuddering breath as Sam continued to press tightly against her from behind. The girl’s warmth seeped into her, and for some reason, Ashley wanted to believe her words. She could handle this. She forced open her eyes, watching the rolling waves of grass swaying in the wind as the horse made its way along a muddy trail.

“You’ve got so much land,” Ashley murmured. It wasn’t the kind of immensity that stretched to the horizon—she could clearly see the suburbs in the distance, right up to the edge of one of the fields—but it filled her with a sense of awe nonetheless.

Sam kicked the horse, causing him to speed up a little. “My great grandpappy built this farm with his own two hands, and the land’s been ours the entire time. The way the city grows, it’s at a premium these days. Government wants it bad, too. Could fit a lot of shopping malls in these here fields.”

Ashley glanced behind her to find Sam staring at the suburbs, her eyes narrowed and hard. “It seems like… that it’s an entirely different world out there. Like your farm is in another time, another place. Completely cut off from the outside.”

“I dunno about that,” Sam said with a grin. “Guess you’ve been sticking around here on the farm, so I see how you’d see that, but I still gotta get the boys to school, to shop for groceries, to do business on the regular. World’s still out there, and not even this farm can keep it out forever. But I ain’t gonna give it up.”

Sam brought the horse to a stop on top of a hill, and once she had helped Ashley down, tied him to a nearby tree.

The sun was low on the horizon, framing the distant suburbia in silhouette, the orange rays reflecting off the water in a large pond below them.

Ashley sat down, and drew her knees in close. “I don’t want to go back,” she whispered.

Sam looked down at her, eyes soft, but she sat down and rested her hand on Ashley’s shoulder. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you want.”

“I just…” Ashley sighed, shaking her heads. “Am I just dreaming, Sam? Everything here, you, this place, your family. It all seems so perfect. So unreal. How can this kind of beauty actually exist? It’s the stuff people write about, the places people escape to instead of reality.”

“Ash…” Sam grimaced, and looked away. “I suppose I can see how you’d think that, but it ain’t perfect here. Farm barely stays afloat, and it’d all be so much easier if we just gave it up and sold out. John and I work ourselves to the bone taking care of this place and the boys. If Ma and Pa were still around it’d be one thing, but I ain’t got a lick of business sense. I’m trying to learn, but…”

Ashley bit her lip, and lowered her eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be selfish.”

Sam let out a sigh, then wrapped her arm around Ashley’s shoulder and pulled her close. “Life ain’t perfect, no matter where you go. But I wouldn’t trade it for a thing. Not to mention having you helping out means a lot. Plus… well, I don’t really got a lot of friends. You’re pretty cool, Ash.”

Ashley felt her cheeks heat up, and she closed her eyes, resting her head on Sam’s shoulder. They sat there, together in that tranquil embrace, the warm summer breeze gently caressing them.

“My mom, she had… has a problem,” Ashley finally murmured, breaking the silence, and keeping her eyes closed. “Heroin.”

Sam stiffened, but stayed silent, squeezing Ashley a little tighter.

“I mean, that alone is pretty shitty, I guess,” Ashley said, barking out a bitter laugh. “Always fun when you get home from school to find out that your food stamps have been traded for drugs. She had her moments when she was alright, but…”

Ashley sniffed, and squeezed her eyes even tighter. Tears began to run down her cheeks. “She started pushing me, to work for her dealers, to run drugs for them. I ran away instead.”

Sam let out a long held breath. “Oh, sug…” she murmured.

“I don’t even know why I’m telling you this, Ashley said as she rubbed at her eyes. “Everyone has their own shit to deal with, right? What’s one more girl from a broken home?”

Sam turned Ashley so they were looking at each other, and gripped her by the shoulders. “Listen here, Ash. I care, alright? Nobody should have to go through something like that. Family is suppose to be there for you. I know we ain’t known each other long, but if there’s any way I can be there for you, I’ll do it.”

Ashley’s heart felt like it wanted to wrench itself out of her chest. “I don’t understand. Why?”

“Well…” Sam’s cheeks colored, and she rubbed at the back of her head. “Because it’s the right thing to do? Because you’re a good person? Because I want to? Because I like you? I dunno. Do I really need a reason beyond that?”

Ashley closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She felt Sam move closer, felt those strong arms wrap around her slender frame. Ever since she had run away, she had been carrying all this on her own. And even though some part of her mind still screamed at her not to trust anyone, she knew she could. She trusted Sam.

She looked up, and saw Sam’s gorgeous blue eyes looking down at hers. It all felt right, somehow.

Ashley leaned forward and pressed her lips against Sam’s.

Her lips were soft, and tasted faintly of the grass pollen that was floating all around them.

When she finally pulled away, Sam was wearing that cocky grin of hers again.

“Oh god,” Ashley blurted out as the reality of what she had done hit her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

Sam leaned down to kiss her back, but this time the angle was awkward and their noses bumped together..

Ashley yelped in pain and surprise and fell to her butt on the grass below.

They stared into each other’s eyes for a few moments, before they both burst out laughing.

“So, uh,” Ashley said, wiping tears from her eyes as her laughter died down. “I guess you’re gay too, then?”

Sam rolled her eyes. “I ain’t a fan of labels. People is people, and love is love, right? Does it have to be more complicated than that?”

“I suppose so,” Ashley said, taking Sam’s offered hand to help her back to her feet. "But I'm Team All-Lady."

“You do you, sug,” Sam said, grinning. “Whatever you are, you're fine by me.”

Ashley laughed.

Sam laughed with her.

Ashley kissed her again.