Hart's Hollow Farm (New Americana 4)

Her elbow brushed Mitch’s arm as she turned and met Kristen’s eyes.

“That soil is a bridge between death and life,” Emmy continued softly. Her voice shook as Kristen ducked her head, her teeth nibbling her lower lip. “If done right, when one crop fades, what’s left behind helps the next one grow. There’s comfort to be found there. I never feel closer to my sweet Joe than when I’m standing in a field full of healthy fresh growth.”

“Me too,” Jenny added. Her chin trembled. “It might sound stupid, but the fields are the only place Nancy and I still feel close to our parents.”

Emmy smiled gently. “When we plant, that soil carries water and nutrients to roots. It gives birth to new life. Bears sweet corn and fresh fruit to fill bellies for miles around. Over the next twenty years or so, the world’s population is supposed to increase by over two billion people. There’ll be over nine billion to feed with less farmland available than we have now. Who’s gonna feed all those people? And how? Solely through vertical or autonomous farming?” She faced Mitch, her cheeks flushed, gray hair curling at her temples, and eyes pleading. “When we talk about paving over small farms, we’re talking about breaking the backbone of our families. Of our communities. And even beyond. All I’m asking is for us to hear Mrs. Markham out and think it over. Give those of us who want one a chance.”

Mitch stilled and glanced at Sadie and Dylan. They both stared back, Dylan with a guarded expression and Sadie with wide-eyed innocence, clutching her doll. Lord, he wished it were all that simple—just an easy choice between family and business. Right and wrong. Good and bad. But the problem was, in tiny Adams County and on Hart’s Hollow Farm, those lines had a tendency to blur, and no matter what was decided, one side would lose.

“Please,” Emmy said.

The desperation in her voice sent a fresh wave of guilt through him.

“We all appreciate and value the concerns and sentiments you express, Emmy,” Charles said quietly. “We’ve all mourned our neighbors’ losses and will continue to do so. But emotion and a handful of Adams County farms won’t solve the problem.”

“Then why don’t we do as Emmy suggests and hear Mrs. Markham out? Get another perspective?” Kristen’s thick lashes lifted, a spark of determination in those gorgeous green eyes and firm resolve in her tone. “You did say that the Department of Transportation was still considering two options and that a decision hasn’t been made yet, right?”

Shoulders sagging with relief, Dana nodded. “Yes, thank you. That’s what I’ve been trying to get across for some time. Lights, please.” She picked up

a stack of papers, waited until the overhead lights blinked on, then straightened. “We’ve conducted surveys throughout Adams County over the course of several months—many of which you’ve participated in. We studied those results closely and were able to identify the most pressing concerns citizens have so far, as presented to you in the slideshow. You were chosen to join this committee in order to represent those concerns. There are many parties involved in this project. Some consultants, like myself, represent environmental considerations and public involvement, while some are focused on engineering issues and costs. But the goal for all of us is to find a solution that will address as many of your concerns as possible. One that is financially feasible and will most benefit the community as a whole.”

She lifted the stack of papers higher. “I’ve compiled a packet for each of you. In it, you’ll find two plans. We ask that between now and our next meeting, you take a look at them, think them over, and discuss them with neighbors who share concerns similar to yours.”

Mitch sat back as Dana handed the papers to him, and then he took one packet and passed the rest to Emmy. For the next several minutes, only the rustle of papers, the creaks of chairs, and random sighs filled the room.

“So the second option you’re proposing,” Mitch said, closing his packet and glancing at Dana, “is widening the highway to four lanes through Peach Grove and adding roundabouts on each end of town.”

“That’s the gist of it.” Dana motioned toward Elena. “Roundabouts are tremendously useful in slowing traffic, which should curtail the high speeds of trucks through downtown.” She directed her gaze to Terrance. “But this approach will still bring the same amount of through traffic, which will, in turn, bring added clientele to local businesses.”

Bud tossed his packet on the table and shook his head. “And it will still leave the problems of congestion, dangers to pedestrians, and noise levels generally unresolved.”

Dana inclined her head. “That is a valid point, and one the Department of Transportation is still carefully weighing.”

“But our land would be safe.” Emmy smiled, hope lifting her features.

A sense of dread seeped into Mitch’s chest. He shifted closer to her side and placed a hand on her forearm. “Emmy, this is just a second option and not necessarily the approach that will be taken.”

“From what you know, Dana,” Iris said, leaning forward, “would you say the Department of Transportation is still more inclined to choose the bypass?”

Dana hesitated, her gaze skittering over the faces around the table. “Yes. For the moment, the bypass is the favored option.”

Charles, Bud, and Elena eased back in their seats with satisfied nods. Emmy’s smile faded.

“We’ll meet again on the first of July to gather final input from the committee, and the Department of Transportation will announce a decision shortly thereafter.” Dana smiled. “We thank you for attending tonight and look forward to seeing you again at the next meeting.”

The meeting officially adjourned, and everyone gathered their belongings, then lingered around the room, chatting in groups and casting guarded glances at others. Mitch helped Emmy stand and get her bearings.

“Well, that was promising,” Emmy declared, grinning and beckoning Sadie and Dylan over.

Mitch scoffed. “Which part, Emmy?”

“All of it. At least they’re throwing something other than a bypass in the mix now.”

“Emmy . . .” A frustrated breath left him, and he rolled his shoulders before continuing. “You saw how opposed the mayor is to the new suggestion, and you heard Dana say the bypass was still the favored option.”

“So?” Emmy shrugged. “It can fall out of favor just as fast. Especially once we dig into planting.” She frowned up at him. “Clouds were high and dry today, and winds were blowing in. Kristen’s field should be ready with one more day of sun, yeah?”

“I suppose, but—”