Women of the Farm: Five Short Stories

By Candace Hennekens

On the surface, farm woman who have worked alongside their men, cropping, milking, farming seem worlds apart from their city sisters. But these stories reveal all women who are on the cusp of a change are sisters underneath. A widow, an unhappy wife, a woman contemplating romance, a woman who has seized the day, these are the characters in these short stories about women of the farm. The rich midwest landscape is the backdrop of the emotional drama of the characters.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Candace Hennekens
• Release date: Feb 25, 2012
• ISBN: 9781465927958

Candace Hennekens

Candace Hennekens was born in Wisconsin, U.S.A. and always knew she wanted to be a writer. She earned her B.S. degree in Journalism from Northwestern University, Evanston, Illinois, U.S.A., and went on to a career in employee communications, public relations, training and development and human resources management. She has continued her writing throughout her life, working with the personal essay, poetry, and fiction genres. She has authored three self-help books for women. Healing Your Life: Recovery from Domestic Abuse has been sold in every state of the United States, and internationally. Twenty-one years later the book continues to help women who have been abused heal and lead happy, satisfying lives. Her second book dealing with career planning is available in print only. Her third self-help book, There's a Rainbow in my Glass of Lemonade, is available in print or as a bonus book to Healing Your Life. Ms. Hennekens' current writing focus is poetry. In addition to writing, Ms. Hennekens is an accomplished painter.

Book preview

Women of the Farm:

Five Short Stories

By

Candace A. Hennekens

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any printed or electronic form without the prior written permission of the publisher except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review. Published at Smashwords by ProWriting Services and Press, E14585 Lincoln Drive, Fall Creek, WI 54742.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, the please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Copyright 2011, Candace A. Hennekens

Discover other books by Candace A. Hennekens

Sweet Farm of Mine

Sweet Land of Mine

Cream from Butterflies

Melpomene’s Hand

Healing Your Life: Recovery from Domestic Abuse with Free Bonus Book

Warm Stanchions and Red Barns with Blue Roofs

Samantha Says

Table of Contents

A Crystalliferous Journey

Depends on the Question

A Gentleman Caller

Filling His Shoes

The Bomb Shelter

A Crystalliferous Journey

At tax time when they sat at the old maple table reviewing figures for the accountant, her husband Blair used to say, Ruth, we aren’t rich even though the farm is worth more than two million dollars. We have to die to make our fortune.

Ruth had simply nodded at Blair, not contradicting him openly, trying hard to keep a sly smile from forming. Blair liked to look at the debit sheet not the asset list, though they took both to the accountant. Blair talked about the farm equipment loan he always hoped to pay off next cropping season, the mortgage on the hundred acres they’d added to the farm ten years ago when it still seemed possible one of the children would follow in their footsteps, the capital improvement loan to add more grain storage on the farm.

Ruth economized and that made Blair happy. They ate most of their meals at home, grew a huge garden even though it was just the two of them now, and she made all their clothes except jeans and underwear. Blair let her upgrade the house every five years or so, buy a new piece of furniture, remodel a bathroom, install new carpeting, and so she thought she had it nice. They owned land; they owed little; and they were healthy and could farm forever, living the good life as Blair called it.

She buried him last year. Heart attack. She collected the life insurance, enough to pay off the debt, held an auction and sold all the equipment and tools he had so carefully accumulated. She resisted selling the farm. She needed some time, she told those who asked, to figure out what lay ahead of her.

It looked like fortune was smiling on her. Yesterday she finished negotiating a contract with a farmer who rented out as much land as he could get his hands on. Her four hundred acre farm was going to bring her more money than she and her husband ever cleared by both of them working long hours during cropping season to grow corn and soybeans. No longer would she have to apply for a crop loan, worry about the harvest, and then watch most of the money go to pay back the loan that covered production costs.

She still hadn’t decided if she wanted to sell the farm but she had decided that she was still young enough to enjoy herself. She would turn sixty this week. It would be some time before old age took over. Now she found herself in an interesting position. Eligible men all over the township were knocking at her door. Evidently they believe, she thought to herself, I am rich and quite a catch.

For too long she had known nothing but long hours, hard work, and little appreciation for her intelligence and skills. She attributed her present good fortune to her skills and intelligence. Her husband would have scoffed at the idea of a contract. He’d have told her she’d never see the money. But she had checked out the land renter carefully, calling references, his banker, and the other landlords. She had a signed contract that would stand up in court. In front of her sat a check with