After I Stopped Buying Their Corn, the Farmers Panicked Chapter 03
A few of the big men, worked up by the crowd, came at me with red eyes. Their fists came down hard.
I instinctively threw my arms up to shield my head and face. My ribs and back took several solid blows. The pain was real. The taste of blood spread through my mouth.
I curled up, and my whole heart went cold.
The image of these same people blocking my truck and begging me for help was still vivid in my mind. My soft heart and good faith had been turned into a joke.
“Stop! All of you, stop right now!”
Martin Parker, the chairman of the farm co-op next door, came striding through the crowd.
“Ms. Blake is one of our biggest customers! Anyone who lays another hand on her is picking a fight with our co-op!”
His eyes were hard. The men who’d been swinging at me grudgingly stepped back.
Noah Reed panicked and rushed up to him. “Parker! Don’t let her fool you! Throw in your co-op’s corn with us. Our two co-ops can get rich together!”
Martin looked at Noah and shook his head. “Noah, it’s a good thing for young people to have guts. But what we want is steady ground. We don’t chase pipe dreams.”
He turned to me. There was apology and real warmth in his eyes.
“Ms. Blake, sorry about all this. You know our corn—not premium, but absolutely clean. Remember what we agreed a few days back? The lowest market price, transportation split between us. You still willing to take it on? If you are, we can sign right now—the contract we held off on.”
I wiped the corner of my mouth. The metallic taste was still there.
Martin had almost certainly heard these men were planning to come at me, and he’d shown up because he was afraid I’d get angry enough to walk away from his co-op too.
I looked at his honest, steady face. Then I looked at Noah Reed standing beside him. A tangled feeling rose up in my chest.
You got burned once, you stayed scared a long time. But I still wanted to believe that not every farmer forgot a kindness.
“I’ll buy it.” I spat out a mouthful of blood. “We sign the contract now.”
Noah Reed sneered behind me. “Fine, Parker. You pass up a chance to get rich—you’d rather hitch your wagon to this crooked operator. When our store opens and we’re pulling in real money every day, don’t come crying.”
I ignored him and pulled out a spare contract template from my truck.
Martin took the pen, signed his name, wrote the date.
“Don’t you worry. The best corn, I’ll set aside for you.”
He handed the contract back to me with a steady smile spreading across his weather-beaten face.
I took the contract and put it away carefully.
As I turned and walked toward my truck, I could still hear Noah Reed loudly laying out his “business plan” behind me. The corner of my mouth ticked up. I prayed that once he actually opened that store, he’d still sound this excited.
