Leave Tomorrow Behind (Stella Crown Series) Read Free

arms.
“Uh-oh,” I said.
Nick hopped back in the truck. “What?”
“Claire’s got it bad for Zach. Look at her.”
“She looks mad.”
“No, she’s uncomfortable. Watch her eyes.” Her eyes were flicking to Zach’s face, then away, then back again. “And her shoulders.” Up and tight, her arms hugging her stomach. “Classic signs of a shy girl who thinks a guy is cute.”
“I don’t know. She sort of looks like she’s going to be sick.”
“As I was saying.”
“Zach!” A new guy sauntered up—Randy, Zach’s buddy who would be showing a calf I’d sold him. His black eye from getting punched by his ex-girlfriend’s new squeeze had finally faded, and he looked more like himself again. I hoped he felt more like himself. I was recovering from an injury, too, but it was a bit more complicated than Randy’s eye, since it included a broken bone in my foot. But I was off the crutches and out of the boot, and healing up just fine, thank you very much. It was only at the end of a long day, or if I stepped wrong, that I had a twinge of a reminder.
I held out a fist as Randy walked past my door, and he bumped it. He was a nice kid when he wasn’t getting into stupid fights about stupid girls. Really. The girl was stupid. As was the fight. But saying “I told you so” is never helpful, especially when speaking to a teenager, so I’d let it go. Randy seemed to have learned his lesson. I certainly hoped so, anyway. Zach was going to be staying with him in his camper for the week, since Jethro and Belle were busy working and doing other stuff, like freezing corn, and wouldn’t be able to run him back and forth as often as he wanted. Plus, it would be fun for him to hang out with all the other kids. You’d think the Grangers could hold off on corn for a week and do the whole fair thing, but the corn was ready, and the freezing process was like a religion in their family. I was sort of surprised they were letting Zach off the hook at all, even for something as important as the fair.
A spot opened up in the “cow dispensing” area, so I pulled in, assuming Zach would find us. When he didn’t, I went looking. I found him in Randy’s trailer, pulling stuff out of his bag.
“Zach.” I had my head in the doorway. “Barnabas, remember? The reason we’re here? The calf you were so worried about twenty minutes ago?”
“Oh, right. Sorry. I’ll be back!” This he said to Randy and the twins, of course. Bobby was eating a Pop-Tart, and didn’t even notice Zach was leaving. Randy grunted. Claire was the only one who seemed to care. She glanced up at me, then looked away, her ears turning red this time. Zach bounded down the stairs, not giving the poor girl a second glance.
Claire wasn’t bad to look at. Pretty nice, actually, but maybe that was through my “farming genes are good genes” glasses. She was as tall as Zach, maybe a little taller, with broad shoulders and a wide, friendly face. Her coloring was all brown—her hair and eyes, I mean—and her skin had that ruddy, fresh, pink look you get when you work outside. She wore the same sort of stuff I had on—jeans, boots, a Got Milk T-shirt. I liked her, and I wished Zach would at least notice she was there.
“Find a place to park?” Zach asked.
“Right next to the barn.”
“Awesome.”
Zach checked in and received his stall assignment, in a nice spot toward the front of the barn, where he and Barnabas would get at least a little breeze. The stall on the right was still empty, and the one on the other side had a fresh layer of wood chips on the floor, awaiting its occupant. We took a few minutes to gather up some of the free chips the fair offered, and spread them in Zach’s little space. When that was done, we led Barnabas down the trailer ramp and into the barn. He trotted along behind us, like he did it every day, like he was just happy to be there. I was thankful for his easygoing personality—but then, when your whole life consists of a