by Leigh Smith
Driving always calmed him down, so by the time he found himself in Scottsville, Jeff Kincaid had made a decision. He was going to leave home, the family farm to be precise. He had to get out on his own because the continual fighting with his brother was too stressful on everyone. It wasn't good for him, Paul or his parents. Paul was always right even when he was wrong, and he made life miserable for those around him if he didn't get his way.
The Willamette Valley was one of the most fertile valleys in Oregon. He knew he could make his own farm a success if he only had the chance. He loved farming and, having grown up and been working on a farm from the time he was ten along with the agricultural classes he had taken in college, he knew what he was doing. Money, however, was a problem. He couldn't afford to buy land so he'd have to look to lease. Even leased land was expensive, but if it was meant to be he knew he would find the right acreage and situation.
Having settled his mind, he was looking for a place to turn around and head back to Lewiston when he noticed an open field. From the looks of things, it hadn't been planted in crops in some time. He wondered if it would be available for lease. There was no sign, but he noticed a driveway and turned the wheel.
Little did he imagine how that simple action would affect the rest of his life.
"C'mon in, Joel, the door's open," he heard as he stepped out of the car in front of the house.
"Now how did you know it was me?"
"How I always know. I know the sound of your car, haven't you figured that out yet?"
"Oh, I thought you were going to tell me you saw me."
She giggled at his remark. "Well, if I did, you wouldn't believe me anyway, would you?"
"Probably not."
She giggled again.
Chyna Minton had lived in the same house since her birth twenty-six years ago. She knew and loved every inch of it, inside and out. The house belonged to her great grandmother who had passed it down to her daughter, Evaline Miller. Evaline married John Arden and they had a daughter, Emma, who married Steven Minton. Emma and Steven Minton were Chyna's parents. The women who lived in this house always outlived the men, and so Chyna was raised by her great-grandmother, grandmother, and mother. All were now gone with Emma Minton's passing last year. Her passing raised all kinds of flags in town.
Scottsville was a small community of thirty-five hundred people, give or take one or two, and most knew and cared for each other. Some residents feared for Chyna now she was alone in her home; her neighbors wanted to be sure that she didn't want for anything. They set up a watch patrol, and every morning and evening someone would drop by to make sure everything was as it should be and that she had everything she needed. Chyna appreciated their efforts, and although she assured them it was unnecessary, they still came, morning and night, seven days a week. Joel Fisher's turn was Tuesday mornings. If for some reason the person assigned a particular day and time couldn't make it, the next person on the list would step up.
"I made fresh blueberry muffins this morning. Would you like one with a cup of coffee?" she asked.
"You know I couldn't turn down one of your muffins. It's why I look the way I do."
"And how is that, Joel?"
"Well, you say you see me all the time. Don't you know how big my belly is?"
"The way I see you, Joel, is not the way you see yourself. You sound thin, and your step isn't that heavy so you can't be as big as you say."
"God love you, Chyna. Do you want to tell that to my wife and the Doc."
She laughed again. He loved the sound of her laughter; it was the pure, sweet sound of happiness. He never knew her to be cross or depressed.
Chyna grabbed a cup from the cupboard and poured coffee for both of them. She carried both cups to the table and went back for the cream and sugar.
"I'm always amazed at how you do that. You never overfill the cup or spill any when you bring it over."
"It wasn't always that way, was it Benji?" Benji let out a small groan, and he dropped down on the floor next to Chyna. Benji was Chyna's dog and companion. A huge St. Bernard, he was a gentle giant and never far from her side.
They were sitting there enjoying the coffee and muffins when another car drove up. Benji got up indicating it was a stranger. Joel went on alert as the stranger got out of the car and came to the door.
"Hello in the house," he yelled as the man stepped onto the porch. Benji barked, and the fellow stepped back. Benji's size and bark intimidated many a door knocker. Joel went to the door. "What can we do for you? And you better not be a salesman because the No Solicitor sign couldn't be any plainer."
"No, Sir. I saw the sign, and I'm not selling anything. I'm Jeff Kincaid, and I'm here to make you an offer."
"What kind of offer?" Joel still did not introduce himself or Chyna.
"Well, I'm new to the area and when driving around I couldn't help but notice you have acres of land not being used. I would like to lease the acreage. I come from a family of farmers."
Joel finally introduced himself and said he wasn't the owner. "This is Chyna Minton and she is the person you want to be talking to." Jeff reached out his hand to Chyna only to find his arm in the mouth of Benji. Sensing what happened, she placed a hand on Benji's head. She put her hand out to shake Jeff's hand and Benji released his grip.
"That's some protective dog you have there, Ms. Minton."
"Yes, he's my baby. Call me Chyna, please. So why do you want to lease my land?"
"Well, as I said, I come from a family of farmers and ranchers. I was once a FFA (Future Farmers of America.) There were three of us Kincaid's; two of us wanted to work the land. My older brother and I don't see eye to eye on many things and I figured it was time to strike out on my own. Good farmland is increasingly difficult to access - especially for new farmers. Purchasing land is expensive and I don't have that kind of money. I also hate seeing good farmland sold to developers and lost forever. We all have to eat and if they continue to gobble up vast tracts of arable land, we'll all be in trouble one day - tons of houses and people with no food."
"I have no intention of selling my land to a developer, Jeff."
"Good, I'm happy to hear that. Does that mean you'll lease it to me?"
"No, but it means I will take it under consideration. If you leave me your name, number, social security number and some references, I'll check them out and get back to you."
"Can't ask for more than that." He took out a folded up piece of paper and handed it to her. "Everything you need is on that paper. Nice meeting both of you," he said and he left.
"You're not really thinking of leasing out the land, are you?"
"Why not, it's laying fallow, and I'm sure not going to farm. I'll check out his references and see what happens."
"But Chyna, you have other things to consider."
"Don't even go there!"
Chyna Minton gave the paper to Joel and asked him to drop it off at Ben Wilson's place.
Ben Wilson was her attorney, and his father was her guardian of sorts. Young Ben had been a friend since childhood and had recently gotten engaged to one of the town's elite, at least in her mind. Penelope Dodge Miller or Penny as she was known, was the only child of doting parents. He had his hands full with her, but that was another story. "Tell him to call me when he's finished checking out Jeff Kincaid. I've got to get to work. Tell Lizzie I said hello," she called after him and waved good-bye.
Chyna lived alone and so there were always chores: garden vegetables to be picked, laundry to be done and on and on. The remarkable thing about all this was that Chyna suffered from hysterical blindness, with only occasional bouts of very limited vision.
She'd had full sight until eleven when she witnessed a terrible tragedy while visiting a relative. Her cousin, five years older than her, hung himself in their barn. She found him, and the trauma of the sight had left her blind. All over the country, doctor after doctor had examined her, but it was always the same. They found no physical reason for her blindness, but she remained blind nonetheless. Over the years, some vision returned sporadically, but it never lasted. She did have second sight though and some said it came as a result of the accident. She definitely 'knew' things before anyone else. At first, her gran and her mom kept that secret because in a small town, crazy things happened. Eventually, the secret became known and now most of the town folk, including the Sheriff, came to her when they needed assistance in finding someone or something.
She had 'seen' Jeff Kincaid a week ago and saw him 'farming' her land, so she knew Ben would find nothing untoward when checking him out. She saw many things about Jeff Kincaid; he would sow his seed in many ways. She also knew he would change her life.
A week passed and she had not heard back from Ben Wilson. Becky Taylor was coming by today to take her into town for supplies, and she planned on stopping at his office. Becky Taylor was the same age as Chyna, and had been a friend since her sighted days. She married Billy Taylor after high school and was the mother of two small boys. She and the boys came out once a week to visit with Chyna and take her into town. Once their shopping was done, their last stop was always Farrell's Ice Cream Parlor where Chyna treated all to ice cream sundaes. They were sitting in Farrell's when Jeff Kincaid walked in. Chyna felt the hair rise on the back of her neck. "It's him, isn't it?" she asked Becky.
"Who him?"
"Jeff Kincaid, the fellow who wants to lease my land."
"If that's Jeff Kincaid, he is one good-looking dude, not that it matters to you how he looks."
"I can tell you what I see. He's tall - over six feet, with skin bronzed from the sun. He has a strong, stubborn jaw with steely blue eyes that seem to look right through to your soul and hair as black as night."
"Are you sure you can't see, Chyna?"
She laughed at her friend. "Not the way you do, Becky."
"He's coming this way, Chyna."
She heard him approach and remembered the timbre of his voice - it sent chills down her spine.
"Ms. Minton, it's a pleasure to see you."
"You also, Jeff. I thought we agreed you were to call me Chyna."
"Yes, well."
"Jeff Kincaid, this is Becky Taylor, one of my oldest friends and her boys, Donnie and Bobby. Would you like to join us?"
"What I would like is an answer to my offer. Have you had a chance to check my references?" he asked politely but with a firm edge to his voice.
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