BSS-613-T The Rancher's Wife by Agatha Kristenson

The late afternoon sun was still blazing hot. Kate Sutherland wiped the sweat from under her ponytail and bent again to pull tender green onions from the crusted earth of the garden. The flies and bees sped by in a monotonous tune of buzzing through the corn stalks and over the tomato plants. It hung in the still heat that shimmered over the fields beyond.

Kate straightened again and wiped her brow, looking out over the green- gold rolling plains through the big poplar that stood guard over the edge of the garden. It was almost a blinding color, the wheat gold that burned the eyes and leeched their moisture in a Van Gogh painting.