Black Single Dad Went Looking for Work on a Farm — He Didn't Know a Millionaire Would Make Him Rich
Chapter 3
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"One more place, buddy," Luke murmured, though the boy could not hear him. "Just one more."The iron band of failure tightened around his ribs, and he drove on.Two days earlier, while he was buying a bag of rice at the Southern States feed co-op in Harrisonburg, Luke had overheard two old farmers talking by the register. High Meadow, the big place out on Black Walnut Lane, had 60 acres of second-cutting orchard grass down on the ground, and the farm had lost two of its hired hands the same morning. 60 acres of cut hay and no crew. Any farmer in the valley knew what that meant: somebody would need a strong back, and they would need it fast.At the intersection of Ridge Road and Black Walnut Lane, the cracked asphalt ended. It became a sweeping drive of crushed river gravel lined on both sides by spotless white three-rail fences that rolled away over the limestone hills as far as Luke could see. A tall arch of black wrought iron spanned the entrance. Steel letters across the top read:High Meadow Thoroughbreds and Heritage Cattle.Beyond the gate, the land looked like another world. Deep bluegrass rippled in the mountain breeze. Mares with coats like polished mahogany grazed in the shade of old sycamores and weeping willows. At the crest of the hill stood a massive fieldstone manor house with a wraparound porch, flanked by twin red barns so clean their painted cupolas gleamed like fresh enamel in the midday sun. On the eastern ridge, half-hidden in a grove of apple trees, sat a smaller two-story stone house with dark green shutters.Luke had worked on a lot of farms in his life. He had never worked on one like this.He eased the Dodge onto the grass shoulder just inside the gate and switched off the ignition before the engine could overheat again. Silence rushed into the cab, broken only by the ticking of hot metal and the drone of cicadas in the tree line.Toby was still asleep. Luke rolled the side window halfway down so the mountain breeze could move through the cab, then laid a damp cotton towel across the boy's forehead."Daddy will be right back, buddy," he whispered. "Just going to see about some work."He climbed down onto the gravel, pressed the door shut until the latch clicked softly, and took off his battered brown hat to wipe the sweat from his brow. Then he started up the long drive. Every step felt heavy. He kept his hat against his hip and his eyes on the house.He was halfway to the porch when the big sliding door of the nearest red barn rolled open with a rumble. A woman stepped out into the sunlight, pulling off a pair of leather work gloves. Luke stopped a few paces away.