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 Training With SG-1

Chapter 2

The morning had dawned bright and warm. There was a promise in the air of even warmer temperatures. Casey opted to wear a denim skirt that stopped just above her knees, and a bright pink spaghetti strap top. She was wearing a ‘matching’ bright pink bra; the straps of the bra and the top almost indistinguishable from one another.

Daniel sat on the bed, tying his sneakers, watching as his wife contemplated her sandals. "There will be lots of sawdust, and dirt."

"So my toes get dirty. At least they’d be cool," she retorted.

He couldn’t help but chuckle. "True. But remember, we’re going to be doing a lot of walking."

With a sigh, Casey grabbed her own Nikes. "At least these aren’t combat boots."

Dropping a kiss on the top of her head, Daniel walked toward the door. "You look great, Angel."

She wrinkled her nose. "I look comfortable. Which is what I’m going for."

With a shake of his head, knowing that he’d always see his wife as far more attractive that she’d ever be comfortable admitting to, Daniel wandered into the kitchen.

The room was inviting…the walls a soft, warm orange. The curtains that fluttered at the open window above the sink were multicolored floral. The white ceramic sink was a large, deep tub, with wide drainboards on either side. The heavy ceramic piece sat on top of a metal base, with two banks of drawers on each side, and two doors beneath the sink itself. The sink and its base had to be older than the house, Daniel thought. There had to be a story as to why it was sitting in this particular kitchen.

The stove, tucked into the corner beside the sink, was actually rather nondescript; just a plain, white electric appliance. A new refrigerator stood against the wall opposite the stove. The shiny, stainless steel should have seemed out of place, but somehow didn’t. Beside the fridge, a long counter topped by deep orange vinyl ran along the wall. There were cupboards above it, painted the same cream color as the cabinets. It reminded him a bit of the large, homey kitchen in the big four-square house he’d grown up in. Well…the house where he and his parents had lived when they weren’t on an archaeological dig somewhere. His gaze continued around the room. A square wooden table was sitting in front of a large window, beside the sink counter. Windsor chairs, one on each side, bore cushions covered with the same floral fabric as the curtains.

It was the coffeemaker that caught his attention. For some reason, he’d assumed that his grandmother would have an old, electric percolator. Instead, a Keurig sat proudly in the center of the counter. It wasn’t a single cup maker, either. No, this was the large ‘professional’ version, which allowed cup after cup to be made.

"Good morning, honey!"

Daniel turned around. His grandmother was standing by a tall, wooden pantry cabinet that filled the corner between the door to the dining room and the door to the back porch. She had two jars of preserves, one in each hand. "Good morning."

"Get yourself a cup of coffee. The K-cups are in the drawer beneath the maker," Muriel said.

"Thanks," he grinned.

"That was my birthday gift from Susan," the elderly woman added, having noted the look of surprise that had filled his blue eyes when he’d noticed the machine.

"Birthday?"

"Last month."

He felt like a heel. He’d never even asked about her birthday. "Grandma, I’m so-"

Muriel moved closer, put one of the jars on the table and patted his arm. "Now don’t you get all worked up. Susan and I stopped acknowledging our birthdays years ago. We try to get each other something, but we darned sure keep it quiet. I don’t want Betty and Donna getting up to no good with surprise parties. I have enough dish towels and pot holders, and I swear that’s all those women ever give anyone. I get a dozen or so every Christmas. This," she motioned toward the coffeemaker, "was on sale. Susan actually got a discount buying two of them, one for her, and one for me."

"I still would have liked to have gotten you a card, or something," Daniel said softly.

"Sweetie, if you’d have done that, Betty and Donna would have seen it when we played Rook, and then I’d have had to deal with their ideas of celebrations. They’re kind enough women, but they are absolutely stupid when it comes to planning something."

Daniel couldn’t help but laugh, not only at what his grandmother had said, but her expression. "Okay, how about you give me a head’s up next year, so I can at least call and wish you happy birthday?"

"That I can do. Unless it’s Rook night. I’ll let you know, so you won’t call while those old biddies are here," Muriel agreed, picking up the jar of preserves she’d put on the table in order to pat him.

Still laughing, Daniel pulled her into a hug, ignoring the fact that she had both hands full. Casey wandered into the room, smiled at the two, then looked around for coffee. Daniel found two mugs in the cupboard above the coffee maker, right where Muriel said they would be. He fixed a cup of coffee for his wife, and then one for himself. And listened contentedly as Muriel and Casey began to plan their day.

The fair grounds were surrounded by a tall wooden fence, some areas newly painted, others a bit faded. No one would be able to peek in and see what lay within, unless they had a ladder. No doubt anyone attempting to do so would be quickly escorted away…if the ‘No Trespassing’ signs were any indication. The entrance to the fairgrounds was located in one corner, nearest the intersection of two streets. Across the street was a large field that, for the duration of the fair, was used for parking.

The entrance resembled a big red barn, with white trim. It was only as deep as needed for the ticket booths and storage closets. The fair didn’t officially open until nine a.m., although anyone who was participating in any of a number of competitions were already in line. Women, and a few men, protectively held their entries, which ranged from pies and cakes to handmade quilts to garden vegetables. The array of goods was impressive for what she’d been told was a ‘small county fair’. Casey felt as excited as the children bouncing from one foot to another as they waited beside already frazzled parents for their turn to enter.

The woman behind the counter, her red hair in an impossibly tall beehive hairdo, smiled up at them as they approached. Her smile went wider as Muriel stepped around Daniel. "Muriel! I haven’t seen you in ages!"

"You saw me last week at Rook night," Muriel replied dryly.

"I see you’re entering a pie again this year. Maybe you’ll get a ribbon this time."

Muriel’s cheeks reddened slightly.

"Well, Grandma was trying to bake a mediocre pie again this year, so her friends have a chance of winning," Casey said, giving the woman a ‘butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-my-mouth’ smile. "But, she and I were talking, which distracted her, and she baked one of her regular pies. I rather imagine she’ll take the blue ribbon."

Muriel nearly gaped at the young blonde beside her. For his part, Daniel was doing his best not to chuckle out loud.

The redhead had the good sense to look abashed. "It’s seven dollars each for entrance, and ten dollars-"

"I’ll give Betty my entrance fee, thank you," Muriel sniffed. "Wouldn’t want a repeat of last year, when you misplaced my fee."

"That was a honest accident!" the redhead declared.

"Of course it was, dear," Muriel replied.

Daniel counted out the cash and handed it to the woman. At least she wasn’t overly rough when she stamped their hands - signifying that they’d paid their entrance fee for the day – in spite of the fact she was obviously agitated.

Casey didn’t speak again until they were on the fairgrounds proper. "Who was that horrible creature? Besides a reject from the sixties."

Muriel chuckled. "Eunice Johnson. Her husband runs the co-op in town. You’d think he was the mayor the way she struts around." Muriel paused for a moment. "Or is he the mayor this year? I can’t remember. We vote every other year for a new mayor. Keeps the worst of them from doing too much damage."

"You play Rook with her?" Daniel asked. It was the second time his grandmother had mentioned the card game that morning. He realized it was coincidence, but apparently the game was a fairly important social event to the women who played.

"She’s an occasional substitute. And a lousy player. If Susan can’t play, and Helen isn’t available to sit for her, I just don’t go. However, last week, Martha, one of our regular players, fell getting out of the shower. Martha called Eunice to sit in for her, none of us knew what had happened until she got there. We only played one hand, we were all so worried about Martha. So, we disbanded the game and headed for the hospital. We actually managed two games there while Martha waited for the results of her x-ray."

"Well, she must have a pie entered if she’s being such a-" Casey broke off, glanced at Muriel.

"She’s a bitch, sweetie."

"Yes, she is," Casey agreed, trying to ignore the strangled cough from her husband.

"I’m sure she’s entered, otherwise she wouldn’t have wanted to take my entry fee."

"Did she win last year?" Daniel asked.

"Nope. I don’t think she’s ever won. I have half a dozen red ribbons, and two blue ribbons. I didn’t even enter for a couple of years…" she paused. "Your grandfather was so ill, and in such a mood, I didn’t dare leave him for long. Last year, Justin Langford, he was one of your grandfather’s closest friends, sat with him the entire day, so I could come to the fair. It was a last minute decision, I’d baked the pie that morning. When Eunice offered to take care of the fee for me, I never suspected she’d lose the money."

"She lost it?" Casey asked, incredulously.

"Well, she lost it until after the judging was over. Then it seemed to turn up right there in the ticket booth," Muriel explained. "Susan warned me that I should talk to Betty about my entry, just to make sure, when I told her about Eunice. I never believed a woman could be so vindictive."

"Whatever happened that made her want to hurt you?" Casey asked.

"I won a blue ribbon the year she entered her peanut butter-caramel pie. She was just certain it would beat a ‘plain ol’ apple pie’. The thing of it is, her pie just wasn’t good. When the samples were handed out, more ended up in the trash than in bellies."

Casey giggled. "Well, your ‘plain ‘ol apple pie’ is better than any pie I’ve ever had."

"I entered a coconut pie one year. I almost took a red ribbon for it, but…Susan’s peach pie and Elsie Conner’s banana cream pie took blue and red that year."

"Yoo hoo! Muriel!"

The three Jacksons turned as one. Susan and Betty were waving from the door of a large red and white barn. Unlike the entrance, this was a full sized barn. They followed the wide, paved path. The food stalls on either side of the path were already emitting the smells of hot dogs and hamburgers, funnel cakes and caramel apples. One stall advertised chicken and vegetable shish-ka-bobs, another claimed to have the best catfish and coleslaw in the state. Still another boasted of the bacon-wrapped corn-on-the-cob of which Casey had heard. The fence marking the fairground boundary was behind the stalls on the left. Three large barns, all freshly painted red and white…the center one where Susan and Betty waited anxiously…were behind the stalls on the right.

The three barns, Daniel and Casey would learn, held the bulk of fair activities. The first barn had shows scheduled all day long, from magicians and puppet-masters for children, to comedians and musical groups for the adults. The center barn held rows of tables, which boasted pies, cakes, cookies, jams, preserves, pickles and relishes, and then the largest or best of a number of garden vegetables. Judges were already beginning their tasks of choosing the best in each category. The third barn was filled with artwork from local artists, from watercolor paintings to oil paintings to sculptures in wood and clay. There were also tables available for children to create their own art, which would be displayed and judged according to age group. Tables lined the walls, covered with quilts, tatted lace, hand twisted yarn, and other yarn goods. A two separate groups of judges would be moving through the barn later in the afternoon, judging the art and homemade goods.

Further down from the food stalls, on the left, was a large open stage. Wooden benches were arranged in front of the platform. The wide, paved path continued, although covered seating was available on the right of the path for watching the shows. Two open sided tents were sitting in the middle of the area just beyond the stage, both offering games of chance. A pretzel stand and a cotton candy stand were beyond that. Then the rides began, and followed the path as it turned to the left. A large open area on the far side of the barns held rides and slipper-slides for smaller children. The Ferris Wheel loomed above it all.

Muriel led the way to the second barn. "Betty, I have my entrance fee."

Betty put a hand to her heart. "Oh, thank goodness. I was afraid Eunice would try to insist that she take it. I was on my way to the ticket booths to make sure none of our entrants fall for that ploy again this year. As far as I know you and Martha are the only ones who haven’t paid yet, and I spoke to Martha about it yesterday."

"Well, let me put this down, Daniel and Casey want to see the fair," Muriel said.

Susan reached for the pie. "You go ahead. We’ll take care of the pie."

Muriel carefully relinquished her entry, then reached for her purse.

"Let me have the honor, Grandma," Daniel said quietly. He handed a crisp ten dollar bill to Betty. "That covers the entry, right?"

Betty smiled brightly. "Sure does. Now, you go have some fun. But remember, pie judging is at two p.m. sharp."

"We’ll be here," Casey promised.

"Don’t decide what you want to eat just yet," Muriel warned, watching as Casey eyed each of the food stalls. "There are more stands behind the barns. Oh, that reminds me…I want to look for the booth that has clocks. There’s a gentleman from Bates County that makes beautiful wooden clocks. Helen’s birthday is coming up, and she mentioned that her mantel clock has given up the ghost."

"Sounds intriguing," Daniel replied. He glanced at Casey, wondering if they would be returning to Silver Springs with a new, wooden clock.

The fair was small, but packed a lot in for its size. From the entrance, a six-foot wide paved path created a large oval. Behind the barns was a large grassy area where tents had been set up. Another paved path, this one only about four feet wide, intersected that oval, giving access to the tents and the booths.

The tents offered a variety of goods. There were crocheted and knitted sweaters, pot holders, purses, and afghans in one. Another offered a selection of milk glass and depression glass. Still another was set up for a miniature glass blower, his work on display as he carefully created more delicate animals. Another tent offered handmade jewelry, another handmade wooden items, including hand mirrors. The design carved into one of the mirrors caught Casey’s eye. Carefully wrapped in a paper bag, she shoved her first fair purchase deep into her purse.

"Don’t push that too far down into that pit," Daniel teased. "You’ll lose it."

"Oh, ha ha."

Muriel patted Casey’s shoulder. "Don’t worry, dear. You should have seen some of the purses I carried. Big leather purses with dozens of pockets. I always thought I’d be able to keep it organized."

"Didn’t work out?" Daniel asked, his cheek twitching slightly as he attempted to hide his smile.

"It would have, if I’d been able to remember what I put into which pocket," Muriel replied piquantly.

Daniel chuckled out loud. "I don’t think that thing Casey carries has pockets."

"It is lovely, though."

"I found it at a craft show in Tacoma, when I went with a friend," Casey replied. "It’s macramé, with a canvas interior."

"I’m certain she’s hiding a small country in that thing," Daniel teased again.

"If I am, be careful. I’ll have you arrested for being a smart aleck," Casey retorted. Both Muriel and Daniel laughed at her smug smile.

One of the tents offered homemade cracker jack…the caramel popcorn and nuts warm and aromatic. Casey insisted she wanted just a small bag, enough to ‘sample’ the sweet treat. Daniel bought a medium sized bag, which the three of them shared. There were the usual booths for politicians, two local churches, the 4-H Club, and both Boy and Girl Scouts had booths.

Near the intersection of the smaller pathway and the main walkway was a pony ride, and by the time the Jacksons had made their way to that area, there were already a number of toddlers and small children on the backs of placid ponies, their tails and manes woven with bright ribbons, plodding around in a circle. None of the ponies seemed at all bothered by the noise around them.

Just past the oval made by the walkway was a large arena, where the horse riding events were held, and where the cattle and pigs were paraded during the 4-H shows and judging. They paused to watch a young woman taking her horse through the barrel race.

"She’s good," Casey said, watching as the young woman grabbed the flag from the barrel she passed. It looked as if she were nearly falling out of the saddle as the rider and horse raced around another barrel.

"That takes talent," Daniel agreed.

"I think that’s Pressy Haberman’s granddaughter. That girl has been on a horse since she was big enough to toddle," Muriel said. "Pressy said that Megan, that’s her name," she added, nodding as the horse and rider made another sharp turn, "would like to go into the rodeo circuit."

They continued to watch as Megan completed each turn, grabbing each flag in order. A buzzer sounded, and cheers erupted from the people in the stands that flanked the arena.

"Megan Haberman, seventeen seconds!" a male voice announced over the loud speakers.

"Wow, that’s fast," Casey murmured.

Muriel nodded. "Pressy said that her son isn’t sure who’s the most competitive, his daughter or her horse. That horse loves to run, and loves running the barrels."

Both Casey and Daniel chuckled. "It seemed that all Megan had to do was grab those flags, the horse was certainly doing the rest."

"Teamwork," Muriel nodded. "A good rider and a good horse are wonderful to watch." The crowd of onlookers were beginning to move away from the arena. "Ready to move on?"

"You bet!" Casey said excitedly.

On the left side of the arena was where the small livestock buildings were located The larger of the buildings was where the pigs waited patiently in their stalls. Most of the pigs were most agreeable to having their ears scratched. The smaller building held sheep and goats. The barn was filled with cages, which in turn were filled with chickens, roosters, geese and ducks. The variety of birds created a rainbow of colors and a cacophony of clucking, crowing, and quacking. The smaller building housed rabbits and guinea pigs, with two large tents set up between the barn and the building so that the dog and cat shows could be held there. Casey lingered over the dogs and cats, making certain each and every one of the animals had received her attention.

The opposite side of the arena held three long, low pole buildings. Horses, cows, and llamas were the occupants. Several of the horses were already boasting red and blue ribbons. Casey fell in love with a large sorrel horse, and the chestnut colored animal seemed just as enamored with her. The horse rested its head on her shoulder, as she smoothed the cream-colored mane.

"I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so beautiful," Casey sighed. She gently rubbed the long nose. She glanced over her shoulder. "Don’t you agree?"

"That is a beautiful horse," Muriel agreed.

"I’ll agree as well." Daniel began to worry for a moment, when Casey’s green eyes filled with a look of calculation. Just where does she think she’ll keep a horse…in the garage?

"That settles it," she declared. "When we retire, I want a large piece of land, so I can have dogs and cats and horses, maybe a sheep or two, some chickens-"

Daniel began to laugh. "Gonna take up farming, Case?"

She raised her chin slightly. "I might," she replied.

Muriel chuckled. "Well, it’s an honest living. Peaceful, too."

Her future decided, Casey led the way out of the barn, stopping at the conveniently placed ‘hand washing station’ to clean the dirt and dander of at least two dozen animals from her hands. Muriel and Daniel followed suit. The three walked back to the ‘street’ lined with tents and booths. Thirsty after their walk and the caramel popcorn, they stopped at a booth where fresh squeezed lemonade was purchased. The stall beside it was offering freshly made sweet potato chips. A small bag was purchased, and the three munched on the delicious treat as they wandered.

"Here it is," Muriel declared, as she walked up to a shocking-red tent. Two tables stood at the front of the tent, wooden clocks lined up according to size. The workmanship was breathtaking. Toward the back of the tent were two huge grandfather clocks.

Daniel began to calculate how much it would cost to have one shipped to Silver Springs when Casey made a beeline to one of them, her hand lovingly stroking the smooth wood.

"Such a work of art," Casey said softly.

An older man, his gray hair held back by a blue-and-white bandana, puffed up slightly. "Thank you, miss."

Casey turned to face him. "This must have taken hours of work."

"A couple hundred, from start to finish," he said.

She sighed slightly. "Wish I had the space for something like this."

"Got a table version, if you’d like to see it," the man offered.

"Oh, yes, please!"

The man pulled a plastic storage container from under one of the tables and opened it. He carefully pulled a blanket from within. He laid the blanket on the corner of the table, then pulled it open. Nestled safely within the woolen folds was a miniature grandfather clock.

"Oh, my!" Again, Casey reached out to run a finger over the smooth wood. Her anniversary clock was on the entertainment stand. She could put this one on the mantel…no one said she couldn’t have two clocks in the living room.

He bit back a smile as the beseeching look from wide green eyes melted his heart. "Is it possible to have that shipped?" he asked, earning a beaming smile from his wife.

The older man scratched his head. "Reckon I could. It’ll be a couple of days before I could get it out."

"That’s not a problem," Daniel assured the man. He wrote his and Casey’s name, address, and phone numbers on the pad handed to him. Jack had suggested bringing a bit of cash along, telling him that most booths didn’t take credit cards. He was certainly glad he’d taken the advice. Casey would have been sorely disappointed to have lost out on the clock.

Muriel had found a mantel clock, its simplicity making it all the more beautiful. "Helen has been so good to me, treated me like a second mother," she said softly. "This is just a token of what I owe her."

"I doubt she’d think you owe her anything," Daniel pointed out, his voice just as soft.

"Probably not," Muriel agreed. "But, this is something I know she’ll appreciate."

Arrangements were made, allowing Muriel to come back for the clock before leaving the fair. It would be, the man promised, safely packaged for the drive back to Butler.

Following the path, the trio made their way to the ‘main’ street once again. The smells coming from the various food stalls hung heavy in the air, and reminded Casey that she’d not taken time to eat breakfast. She was hungry, in spite of the popcorn and sweet potato chips. It’s all the walking, she told herself. She stopped to look at the various food stands. "Is anyone else hungry?"

"I could eat," Daniel said immediately. He really was hungry…but he was more interested in making certain his wife was eating.

"It all looks and smells good, doesn’t it?" Muriel said.

"So, where do we start?"

Casey turned to face her husband. "Start?"

"Yes, start. No one said we can only eat from one booth," Daniel replied.

"Well, how about that corner," Casey said, pointing at a large sign that declared the best bacon-wrapped corn on the cob in the state of Missouri was available there.

"Let’s go," Daniel said. He put his arm around Casey, offering the other arm to his grandmother. He smiled in return when the elderly woman beamed up at him.

By the time they had tried the corn on the cob, corn-dogs, chicken and vegetable kabobs and hand made onion rings, then finishing their lunch with the beloved fair staple – funnel cakes, a local band was warming up on the stage. An excited smile on her face, Casey dragged Daniel toward the quickly filling benches.

While she couldn’t say she was a fan of country music, Casey wasn’t opposed to listening to it. She actually had a few country singers among her collection of CDs, usually for one or two songs that struck a chord with her. The band getting ready to play couldn’t have been more country, she decided. The men in the group were wearing blue jeans, plaid shirts, bandanas and cowboy hats The two women were wearing full skirts made from the same material as the men’s shirts, and frilly white blouses. One of the women was wearing a cowboy hat, the other had a hairdo that reminded Casey of a young Dolly Parton. The boots the group wore were obviously expensive, and had been shined carefully.

The music was loud, and it was good. In the middle of their performance, the lead singer announced a square dancing troupe. He called out two songs, the dancers impressing the audience with their steps and their lively chatter.

When the last note of the performance had faded, the three began to wander again. They stopped at a small kiosk and bought three small bags of warn kettle corn, and bottles of water.

Daniel stopped in front of the Ferris Wheel. "So, ready for a ride, Angel?"

"Sounds good to me," Casey smiled.

"Grandma, are you up for a ride?"

Muriel smiled. "It’s been so long…oh, yes, I’d love to ride the Ferris Wheel."

Daniel met Casey’s glance. There would be more than one ride for the three of them. Leaving his wife and Grandmother to watch little ones on a train ride, Daniel joined the line at the ticket booth.

The first time around, they were too busy watching the people below them to notice much else. The second time, Muriel pointed out a few of the landmarks they could see.

If Daniel hadn’t glanced at his watch while they contemplated a third ride, they might have missed the pie judging. They barely arrived before the judges were beginning to sample each pie. They made their way through the crowd, joining Susan and Betty.

Casey watched the faces of the three men and two women who were judging, especially when they picked up Muriel’s pie. They were, she decided, excellent poker players. Not a single face showed any signs of like or dislike as they sampled each pie.

"Oh, my," one of the women exclaimed, fingering the bow Casey had made for the top. "This is exquisite."

"My grandson’s wife made that," Muriel called out. She patted Casey’s arm.

For her part, Casey’s cheeks blazed with color as most of the spectators and all of the judges looked at her. "It’s no big deal," she muttered.

"Just lovely," the second female judge declared.

"Well, let’s see if the pie is as good as this ribbon is beautiful," the lead judge, a man in his sixties, with a long, white beard, said.

Shifting from one foot to the other, Casey tugged her lip between her teeth. C’mon, you know that’s the best apple pie you’ve ever tasted! How can you hide that? The judges sipped more water, and moved on to the next pie.

As soon as the judges had finished sampling the last pie, the group huddled behind the table, backs to the audience.

"How long does it normally take them to decide?" Casey asked.

Muriel smiled at the younger woman’s impatience. "Not too long."

It seemed to be forever, but a glance at her watch told her the judges had deliberated for just over ten minutes.

"It seems that every year it just gets more difficult to decide," the head judge said, smiling at the crowd of people around him. "As far as we’re concerned, each and every one of these entries is a winner. But, the rules say we have to choose two of the best." The judge looked down at the clipboard in his hand. "The second place ribbon goes to Mrs. Hazel Parker, from Beaumont, for her apple-rhubarb pie."

A polite round of applause accompanied a heavy-set woman in a bright blue and green dress. She smiled broadly as she accepted a handshake from each of the judges, and then watched with pride as the red ribbon was placed next to her pie.

"And in first place…a lovely lady who is a regular winner here at the Adam’s County fair, Mrs. Muriel Jackson, of Butler. She baked this year’s winning apple pie."

Casey couldn’t hold back her squeal of excitement. She hugged Muriel tightly, then watched with beaming pride as Daniel’s grandmother stepped forward to shake hands with the judges. The head judge put the blue ribbon beside the pie. She glanced around, noticed that a very red beehive hairdo was moving through the crowd, toward the door.

"Bet that pissed her off," Daniel whispered in his wife’s ear, having seen Eunice at the same time Casey had.

"Probably," Casey whispered back. "Anyone that spiteful deserves to be bit in the ass by karma."

Daniel bit back his chuckle. "Hopefully she won’t be too hateful toward Grandma because of this."

"I’ll ask Susan to keep her eyes and ears open. First sign of trouble from that battleaxe, and I’m on the first plane to Butler to kick some ass," Casey growled.

He lost his battle, and laughed loudly. "I have no doubt," he managed to say.

Susan, Helen, Betty, and Donna were waiting to congratulate Muriel. The older women talked for a few minutes, and then Muriel rejoined her grandson and his wife.

"Well, that was exciting," she grinned.

"It sure was!" Casey agreed.

"Betty said she saw Eunice leaving."

"We did, too," Daniel said.

"Yeah, well, if she causes you any trouble, you just call me," Casey said, wrapping her arm around Muriel’s shoulder. "I’ll have no problems flying to Butler to take care of her."

Muriel laughed and hugged Casey. "I don’t think you’ll have to worry. Between Susan and Betty, I doubt Eunice will be stupid enough to say much of anything." Muriel looked around, making certain they wouldn’t be overheard. "Donna said that one of the first pies the judges tasted, they wound up spitting into napkins. Now, she’s not certain, but she thought it might have been Eunice’s pie. It was plain rhubarb, and if she didn’t use enough sugar and cinnamon, it would have been bitter."

"I will hold in my heart the belief that pie belonged to Eunice. Fits her bitter disposition," Casey replied.

His wife, Daniel thought with amusement, could be very vindictive. Especially when it came to family. He conveniently pushed away the thought that he was able to be downright dangerous when his loved ones were threatened in any way.

They wandered the barns, oohing and ahing over entries, making their own judgements on which items they believed should have been winners, then wandered back outside. Willing to sit again, if just for a few minutes, the three sat on a bench and watched the children on the rides and slipper slides. After taking another ride on the Ferris Wheel, they chose to get hamburgers for their dinner, and then decided to call it a day. They stopped at the red tent to collect the clock Muriel had purchased. Tired, but happily so, they made their way back to the rental car.

For Casey, the fair had been everything she’d thought it would be, and more. She carefully tucked the memories into her heart beside all the other ‘happy’ memories she’d been collecting since meeting Daniel.

All of the walking, the fresh air, and the excitement of the fair made sleep that night deep and peaceful. Daniel held Casey close as she snuggled against him, her soft, rhythmic breathing alerting him to the fact that she’d fallen asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow. It had been a great day. Watching his wife, her green eyes wide and sparkling with excitement, had been what he’d enjoyed the most. He closed his eyes, a smile on his face.

Daniel and Casey stayed another day, spending it going through the photo albums Muriel cherished, listening to story after story of her family. The last morning of their visit, they ate breakfast at the diner. Leaving Muriel with her friends made driving away a bit easier for all three Jacksons. With promises to return to Butler whenever they could, they headed the rental car toward Kansas City, and a return flight to Colorado.

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