Fertile Valley chapters 6-7 + Missy's POV

6 A Family Breakfast

I knocked on the door of Queenie and Mayor Luna’s house at around seven in the morning. When the door opened, Queenie was there, already dressed in a pleated khaki skirt and a babydoll t-shirt. She still dressed like a hot twenty-something even though she was also a mother, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

She took one look at me and decided that the correct response was hugging me. Admittedly, I bristled a bit at the embrace, but I let her do it. In my mind, she wasn’t off the hook for keeping my daughter from me all this time, but I wasn’t going to be an asshole to the woman who held the keys to the house where my kid lived. Plus, I found I did still care about her, even after all these years.

“You made me worry myself sick,” she said as she released me from the embrace. “But I hope you had a good walk and managed to clear your head.”

Cleared my head and my balls, I inwardly noted. “Yeah, I’m good now,” I assured her. “Last night was just a shock—in more ways than one, actually, but…never mind.”

Her brows slanted as she listened to me shrug off any further elaboration. She seemed almost suspicious. “Did you run into anyone? When you visited the goddess statue? Anyone interesting?”

How much did she know? “Uhh. Nope. No one.” I thought about telling her what I learned about the Fertile Valley System and the Harvest Goddess. She had to be aware of the goddess, at least, but that didn’t mean she was aware of anything regarding my purpose, or just how literally real the Harvest Goddess was. 

Worst case, telling her what happened would probably have her convinced that I’d just had a mental breakdown, so until I had some rock solid way to prove my new abilities, well—I’d keep tight-lipped on the topic until I had a better sense of the whole town’s relationship to her and the valley’s magic.

The System introduction did note that the girls wouldn’t find any of my powers strange when I had them, so I was probably worried about nothing. Still, I wasn’t going to go gambling with the mother of my child’s reaction to such a thing.

She looked me over again, then grabbed my forearm and dragged me inside. “You want to meet her, right?” she asked. “Our daughter, I mean.”

I nodded. My heart was suddenly pounding in my chest so loudly I could feel it in my ears. I followed her inside, and she let go of my hand the second I shut the door behind me, then nodded in the direction of the kitchen. I took a few more steps to look around the banister that separated the living room from the kitchen and dining area, and then—I saw her.

She was still wearing her pink pajamas, and her hair was a total mess—it looked like curly straw, desperately in need of a good brushing—but she was the most incredible thing I’d ever seen in my life.

Queenie put her hand on my shoulder and whispered to me before we were noticed. “Take it slow. Have her think of you as a family friend for now, and you’ll be staying in town and helping watch her from time to time when I’m busy.”

I nodded and swallowed a lump of nerves in my throat, and it felt sharp, like gulping down a shard of glass. I took a few steps forward and sat down at the table, grabbing a bowl and a box of Rice Krispies. “Hey there,” I said. “My name’s Pete. Nice to meet you.”

She looked up at me, and I realized she’d been doing the maze on the back of the other cereal box with her finger up until that moment. “Hi.” She looked at her mom, who, thank fucking God, stepped in at that point to introduce us because I was two seconds from shitting myself into an early grave and very obviously in need of her help. 

“Sweetie, this is my really good friend. He used to live in Max City way up north, but he’s inheriting Joe’s farm. He’s Joe’s grandson.”

“Ohhhh,” the little girl said, nodding like it was all starting to make sense. “That’s good news. You were really worried about that farm. Can I still come over and play on the farm sometimes, mister? Old Joe used to let me feed his chickens when he had them.”

“You like chickens?” I grunted.

She nodded. “They’re cute and easy to take care of. Are you going to have chickens?”

“How many do you want me to have?”

Queenie cleared her throat. “He’d be more than happy to let you visit. Actually, I’m going to be pretty busy on the weekends next month, so maybe you can spend weekends on the farm until dinner time, Kylie Ann.”

Kylie Ann. I’d almost forgotten that name already. Hearing it sent something like a thousand volts of electricity running through my body. She answered, smiling at the idea her mom just put forth. “Sounds fun! Nice to meet you Mister Pete.”

“Umm, you can call him  Mister…Uh, just Pete for now,” Queenie chuckled.

Kylie Ann cocked her head, then smirked deviously. “Okay…Mister Just-Pete, do you wanna see something cool?”

“Sure,” I said, leaning in, chuckling along with her.

She turned her Honey Nut Cheerios box around and revealed the maze she’d been working on. “Watch this!” she said, and she placed her hand on the start of the maze. In a matter of three seconds, she solved the maze without reaching any dead ends, making my jaw drop as if it was the most impressive feat of intellect I’d ever seen. It felt like it. In fact, I grabbed Queenie’s hand and looked at her as she sat down in the chair beside me. “Is she a genius? Is Kylie—”

“Relax, Peter,” Queenie giggled, “she’s been working on that cereal box for the last week, that’s all.”

I nodded, calming down, but still excited. “That makes sense. I can’t help but notice you don’t have an iPad or anything like that, Kylie Ann.”

The little girl scowled. “Mom says technology rots kids' brains if they use it too much when their brains are still growing. We don’t have any iPads, and mom still has an iPhone 6.”

“Good Mom you’ve got.” I smiled at that, nodding. Queenie just shot up in my evaluation by about ten points. It’s funny—I never thought about parenting much, but as a guy who’d seen friends and acquaintances have kids that often turned into spoiled brats, one common denominator I blamed was the fact that I’d noticed them doom scrolling on phones and tablets whenever I saw them. It depressed me just to think about it.

But, to be fair to them, it was next to impossible to raise kids in the city without high tech gadgets because, well, every other kid had them and it was tough to make a little kid understand why they couldn’t have the thing that all their friends had. 

From there, though, it was a downward spiral. Given how overworked families are in the city, almost always requiring two parents to work full-time just to pay the bills, that means, in my experience, that moms and dads aren’t always around to do the parenting, so babysitters and TV have to take the bulk of the load. Then, when the parents do get home, they are usually too exhausted to deal with the kid. 

Come to think of it, modernity really is a fucking cancer in some ways.

I’d been in my head for too long, just smiling at Kylie Ann, and she’d gone back to eating her cereal. Queenie cleared her throat. “The town’s too small, so there’s only one class of kids in town, but it’s a glorified homeschool program and all us parents and some other grownups take turns chipping in.”

I nodded, not yet understanding what she was getting at, but thankfully, she went on when I didn’t say anything.

“Sooo…anyway, Kylie Ann’s schedule is pretty loose. So if you ever need help on the farm during the day, you can just let me know and pick her up. Just not too often.”

I arched a brow and looked at Queenie, honestly a bit confused. “Is that legal? Isn’t truancy a thing?”

“There aren’t any truancy officers out here, city slicker,” Queenie laughed, and I chuckled too. “Trust me, all those kids are above grade level. Homeschooling generally is like that.”

“True,” I agreed. “Never known a homeschooler who wasn’t both really smart and exceedingly weird.”

Kylie Ann looked up. “Hey! Mister Pete, that’s mean,” she said, making a face at me as she continued to eat her cereal. Her cheeks were chipmunked full of food, which made me snicker.

“I imagine you dodged the worst of the weirdness if you’re interacting with a variety of grownups and have a few other kids of different ages in your class,” I said. “It was always the lack of social interaction that gave them that bit of oddness, and out here, you’re getting as much social interaction as anyone else, I guess.”

Queenie stood up from her chair. “You must be hungry, Petey. I’ll fry up some bacon and eggs. There’s some apples in the refrigerator to get yourself started. Kylie Ann, sweety, you sure you don’t need anything else?”

The little girl shook her head as she finished her last spoonful. “I ate too much last night, Momma.”

“What did you eat?” I asked, trying to make conversation and keep her talking as long as I could. I just wanted to memorize her voice and the way her face moved when she spoke. I wanted to take her in as much as I could.

“Grandma made steak and taters, and I had two,” she said, holding up two fingers to more vividly illustrate the matter.

“Two steaks or two taters?” I asked, smirking.

“Two both.” She rubbed her tummy. “I had a little bump in my belly for hours after that. Grandma said I looked like a mini version of Momma when they first found out she was havin’ me.”

Queenie glanced over her shoulder for my reaction, and I could guess why. If I thought too much about that, it could stir up a lot of questions and feelings of betrayal, but I was already beyond all that. At least for now. I caught Queenie’s eye and changed the subject. “Where is your Grandma, by the way? Doesn’t she still live in this house, too?”

“Oh, you just missed her,” Queenie sighed, smiling with relief that I didn’t seem too bothered. “She’s always in and out. She had a meeting with some folks at Bountiful Harvest Church. You’ll see her soon, I’m sure. I let her know that you drove in already.”

I furrowed my brow slightly. “The church, huh…”

“How long you stayin’, Mister Pete?” Kylie Ann asked. “Are you movin’ in for good?”

“Into town?”

She nodded.

“Yeah, I think so. I don’t think I’m fixing to go much of anywhere other than here,” I admitted. “I’ve got to keep Grandpa Joe’s farm going.”

“And get some chickens,” my daughter said.

I grinned at her. “What other animals did he have?”

She looked up at the rickety ceiling fan and gave the question some thought. “Best I can remember, he had a dozen cows or so, a bunch of chickens, and a dog that died a few years back.”

My heart sank. I hadn’t thought about that at all. “Biscuit died, huh?” I muttered. Biscuit was a golden retriever that my Grandpa got, oh, probably about twelve years back when I was still in high school. “He was a real good dog.”

“He had a few pups with the Venturas’ poodle, so at least he has his legacy,” Queenie giggled. “Actually, one of them is still in town. Sort of the town’s stray community dog—even though the Ventura’s moved out a year back.”

My brow lifted. “Stray? That surprises me that the people here would tolerate a stray dog and not just have someone adopt it.”

But Queenie shook her head at me. “Technically he was your grandpa’s, too, but when he got older the town started chipping in and we all have been taking turns caring for him under the pretense that we’d give him back to your Grandpa if he got better, but—”

“He didn’t,” I said, finishing the unpleasant thought for her. “Then I want that dog, if it’s alright with the other villagers. I’ll take care of him.”

Kylie Ann’s eyes widened. “Whoa! You’re gonna have chickens and Fierce Boy? I’m definitely visiting your farm.”

“Fierce Boy is his name? That’s a cute name.”

“It’s an ironic name,” Queenie said with no shortage of amusement in her tone. By this time the bacon she was frying in the pan had reached my nostrils, and I realized just how hungry I was. “‘Bout the sweetest dog you’ll ever see. And smart. I think he’s staying at Sunrise today if you want to meet him.”

I nodded. “Sunrise Fitness?” I asked. “Sure thing. Who’s the family that lives there again?”

“Chelsea Sanford and Missy Sanford both live there. You remember Missy, don’t you? We used to babysit her. Anyway, Missy’s mom, Chelsea, lived alone while she was in college, but when she graduated Missy came back to help her out,” she said.

“Ah,” I grunted. “Got it.”

I ate a pretty filling breakfast that morning, and I realized immediately upon finishing it that it was the best I’d had in months at least. Bacon, eggs, hash browns, and some leftover steak, heated up in the pan, plus a small bowl of fruit salad and a bit of yogurt. Only thing missing was a heaping pile of pancakes, but there would be other mornings.

I stood up and stretched. “Welp,” I said, “I’d probably better go do some exploring.”

Queenie looked at me, and for a moment I thought there was a knowing gleam in her eyes—and yes, I noticed that the red hearts were still present. What did the Fertile Valley RPG intro prompt tell me about that?

• She feels strong love and affection for you

Right. Well, the feeling wasn’t quite mutual. There was still a lot of trust to build back with her, but I was committed to my quest, and she’d turned out to be a good mother as far as I could tell. We’d get there. Probably.

“Where are you going?” Kylie Ann asked.

“Just going to see the sights in the valley. Maybe visit the old farm. I doubt anyone out here will stop me from having a poke around.”

“Can I come?” my daughter asked.

“Absolutely—”

“No, sweetheart, it’s Friday. You still have school,” Queenie quickly said, but she met the look in my eyes and nodded. “But Mister Pete will be back here for at least tonight until his inheritance takes effect tomorrow, so you can arrange some fun hangouts then.”

Kylie Ann pointed at me. “Can you order the black chickens?”

“Black chickens?” I asked.

“There’s a kind of chicken called the Ayam Cemani. I have a chicken encyclopedia. That kind of chicken is completely black—even the meat and bones,” she said, her eyes wide with fascination and hands on her cheeks. She was so cute.

“Careful, she asked your Grandpa about that a couple years ago. Those things are a hundred bucks per chick.”

I laughed. “Maybe I’ll get a rooster and a hen and we can make a bunch of them then. I’m going to be sinking a lot of money into getting that old farm up and running—what’s another two hundred smackeroos?”

Kylie Ann gasped. “Are you being for real right now?!”

Queenie looked at me with some worry, but I just said, “Sure, why not? We gotta start somewhere. Might be interesting to make a name for myself breeding luxury chickens.”

Soon we ended the conversation, and I helped clean the dishes in the kitchen, working elbow to elbow with my former fling. She smelled good, and I could tell she was rubbing up against me as much as she could without making it too obvious to our daughter what was going on. 

When that was all done, I said goodbye and finally made for the door. Just as I was heading out, though, Kylie Ann shouted, “Wait!” and ran out of the room, scrambling toward her own bedroom. I looked at Queenie, who was giggling as she leaned against the counter, drinking some orange juice that looked so fresh they probably grew the oranges in town. While I waited for Kylie Ann to come back, she made for some small talk. “You’re going to be a great Dad,” she said. “She already loves you.”

“Can’t we just tell her?” I asked.

She nodded. “Soon. Let her get used to the idea of you so that when we do tell her, it’s a fun surprise. Let her learn a bit about your story first so she knows where you’ve been and doesn’t have loads of abandonment issues.”

“Where does she think her Dad is?” 

Queenie shrugged. “She never asked. If she ever did, I was planning to say—Oh, wait, here she comes.”

Kylie Ann ran into the room with a big yellow backpack and handed it to me. “Here you go!”

I took it from her, though I was definitely confused. “Yep. Here I go, then.”

“Ohh, honey, are you sure you want to give Mister Pete that?” Queenie asked. “Grandma bought that for you.”

“I don’t need a magical backpack,” Kylie Ann giggled. “Everything I need to bring anywhere fits in a normal backpack.”

“Sorry, what?” I muttered. “A magical backpack?”

Queenie sighed, a look of defeat settling on her face. “Kylie Ann, Mister Pete doesn’t know about any of that stuff.”

“A magical backpack?” I repeated. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“Did you…meet anyone interesting when you went to the goddess statue last night, Pete?” Queenie inquired again, her eyelids slitting to crescents. “How little do you really know?”

Hearing that, I realized that we were closer to being on the same page than I’d assumed. “Wait—does everyone in town know she’s real?”

“The Harvest Goddess?” Queenie asked. “Yes. They’re aware. But only my mom really speaks with her directly as far as I know, though I’m technically a priestess as well. Anyway, Mineral Village has plenty of blessings like that one, all originating from her.” She pointed at the yellow backpack that was now slung over my shoulder. “That’s one of them.”

“How so?”

She smirked. “Things produced in town in the last few years tend to be a lot more useful than their equivalents in other places.”

I looked at Kylie Ann and started to hand her the backpack. “Thank you for the gift, kid,” I said. “I think your mom’s right, though. Sounds like this might be a bit too special to give me, but I appreciate the gesture.”

Kylie Ann’s lip quivered, destroying my resolve.

“Oooor I can take it,” I grunted, quickly grabbing it back and donning it. “I’m taking it, I’m taking it, don’t cry.”

Fertile Valley RPG System Notification:

You have acquired 1 yellow knapsack. It is large enough to hold all your grandfather’s tools and up to three hundred pounds of foraged or farmed items. Buy upgrades at the Everything store.

Well, that definitely required a bit of experimentation. With another attempt at a goodbye, this time successful, I left Queenie and Kylie Ann to go explore the surrounding area and do some work. But first? I had to go pick up my dog.

7 Man’s Best Friend

Sunrise Fitness Studio was only a two minute walk from the Luna residence, and it was on the way toward my future farm and the valley beyond. All that said, it was a no-brainer to pop by and meet the pooch. Also not a bad idea to introduce myself to Chelsea and Missy Sanford while I was at it, I mused. Recalling my duty to the town, though, I really hoped they’d at least be cute. I only remembered Missy, and she had been a skinny pimply-faced teenager obsessed with aerobics DVDs back then.

I rapped my knuckles on the door of the business because it wasn’t open hours yet. I heard a dog inside start barking, and it ran up to the door and tapped its paws all over it. Suddenly I felt a bit nervous about meeting the little guy.

On the other side of the door, I heard a high pitched voice with a bit of a local flair reassure and shush the dog. “Hush, Fiercey-Babe,” the mystery woman said, “Who could be at the door this early in the morning?”

The door opened and I was greeted to the sight of a surprisingly attractive younger woman dressed only in a white sports bra and black yoga pants standing in the doorway, studying me with a cocked head and arched brow. If I didn’t already know who she was, I might not have recognized her. “City Pete? That you?”

I laughed at the unexpected sobriquet. “City Pete, huh?” I asked. “Yeah, it’s me. Good to see you, Missy.”

“Oh my Gawd, Pete!” she gasped, giving me a big hug. “I didn’t think you’d come for the funeral! Shit! I thought we lost contact with you years ago!”

“Well, Mayor Luna apparently found my address in my Grandpa’s rolodex or something,” I noted as she drew back from the surprise embrace. 

“His rolo-what?” At about that moment she started jogging in place without explanation, which I did my best not to react to.

I laughed, though, passing it off instead as a reaction to her confusion about what a rolodex was. “You know what? That’s fair. No one under sixty has used one of those in ages.” 

“Gotcha,” she said, transitioning into jumping jacks. “One, two, three, four…”

I looked down and saw the most gorgeous goldendoodle—that’s a mix between a golden retriever and a medium to large sized poodle. Given how this dog was a lot more on the medium side, I didn’t have to guess at the size of the mother. I bent down to pet him. Fierce Boy panted happily, locking eyes with me, then quickly started licking my face. 

“Well he took to you real fast, Petey!” she giggled between ragged breaths from her exercises. “Is that about the welcome to town you expected?”

I shrugged. “It’s as good as any,” I replied. 

“Maybe you were hoping to get that greeting from Queenie?” she asked, a bit of a bitter accusation in her voice.

I smirked back up at her, and this time I noticed them—the hearts in her eyes. Her hearts were yellow. In other words, she liked and was attracted to me but didn’t exactly consider me a potential romance partner at the moment. Fair enough. I stood back up and put my hands in my pockets. “Actually, I’m here about this fella. I heard he used to be my grandpa’s dog, so now he’s mine.”

She stopped her jumping jacks and pouted a bit but nodded dutifully. “I suppose that makes sense. It’ll be heartbreaking to see him leave town, though. We all love Fierce Boy so much.” She bent over a bit to scratch his head, but the dog was still locked on me. “We wuv you, widdle guy, yes we do! Yes we do!” When she stood back up, she started doing some quick stretches, and my eyes were drawn to her exposed midriff for a brief second when she closed her eyes to yawn.

“He’s not leaving town,” I said, refocusing.

She opened one eye back up. “Hmm? Whatcha mean, Pete?”

“I’m staying. I’m pretty sure I’m on my grandpa’s will for the farm, so I’ll be taking it over and staying in town.”

Her yellow hearts shifted to pink. For a moment, they even shot all the way through to red, but quickly settled back on pink in short order. “That’s really interesting,” she commented. “And good news. Means I won’t have to say goodbye to this sack of love.” She bent over quickly and hugged the dog around his neck, kissing him on the head. “Say, I was going to take him out for a jog with me, but he always struggles to keep up. I could do my workout in the studio if you want to walk him yourself.”

“I mean, yeah,” I chuckled. “I’m here for the dog. As in, I’m taking him with me now, if at all possible.”

She bent all the way backward into a bridge pose. “What about his food and toys?” she asked as she shifted her weight into a backward somersault. Before I knew it, she was planking. Missy turned her head to speak to me. “Big John’s comin’ round here in a bit. Should I ask him to deliver it all somewhere for you when he drops off the milk?”

“Yeah,” I said, nodding as I tried very hard not to stare. “Drop it off at Queenie’s for today. After the reading of the will this weekend, I’ll drive it over to the farm myself. Thanks a ton.”

She looked up at me, still holding her plank. “Gawd, must have been weird to see Queenie has a daughter, huh?”

I almost laughed. “You don’t know the half of it.”

She grinned at me. “Good to see you, though, Pete. I remember when you used to babysit me with her—Queenie, I mean. Shit, we grew up, didn’t we?”

I blinked at her, trying not to show anything on my face as she popped her ass in the air for a different pose. She was around twenty-four now—I’d done that math with confidence. The gap between us wasn’t that big, just four or five years, but the fact that I babysat her definitely made it a bit odd. 

She was a grown woman in any case—and gorgeous. Her toned body and long dark hair done up into a high ponytail put her looks on full display. Her perfect face was sharp, her complexion clean if a bit sweaty already. Her body was fit to the point of an always-visible six pack, but right now, I was seeing the dimples in her lower back as I looked down at her. “Yep. We sure did grow up,” I muttered. “Can I get Fierce’s leash?”

She shook her head. “We trained him real good, Petey. Just talk to him. He knows most commands you can think of, and he never runs off. Just say, ‘Here, boy!’ and he’ll come right up to you, no matter what. If he’s messin’ with something you don’t like, just say ‘Drop it!’”

Fierce barked at those words, which made me smile. I nodded as I took it all in. “Alright then,” I grunted, looking down at the dog and taking a few steps backward, “Here boy!”

Woof! Woof! Fierce Boy cheerfully barked and trotted toward me with big, proud steps. Woof!

I beamed at him, genuinely surprised by how well that went. “Alright, Fierce, we’re going for a walk.” I looked up at Missy, still smiling. “Does he need water or anything before I go?”

“He’s good to go, City Pete,” she said with a wink as she gracefully transitioned into a handstand. “I’ve got to start my workout then, but let’s catch up sometime, just you and me!”

“I’m sure we’ll have the chance,” I said, waving as I turned my back on her and started toward the road. “See you, Missy.”

“See ya, Pete!”

I tried to keep my head empty for a bit and focus on the dog. Obviously, there was a lot on my mind. Since I arrived here, I’d been bombarded with quite a bit of important information, but when it got right down to it, all I really needed to do was live my life. So, it was time to do just that.

I stopped on the sidewalk lining Main Street and beckoned to Fierce. “Here boy,” I said. “Let’s see what you can do. Sit.”

The dog instantly sat.

“Not bad, not bad,” I chuckled. “Alright, she said you can do just about anything I can think of, so let’s put you to the test. Lie down.”

Once again, the dog obeyed without delay. His tongue flopped out happily and he panted as he lay on his belly.

“Good boy!” I said. “Okay, stand up. Nice.” I bent down and picked up a stick, waved it in front of him, then tossed it. He watched it go, then looked back at me expectantly. “Fetch! Go get it, boy!”

His tail wagged and he dismissed himself, bouncing on his paws as he trotted like a prize pony on his way to the stick. Fierce picked it up and brought it back to me. When I reached for it, he let me take it back without struggle.

“Shit, you really are a good dog,” I muttered as I reached down to scratch behind his ears. “Alright, buddy, let’s go. We’re going to cut through Grandpa Joe’s farm to head to the valley. I left his tools up there.”

Or at least…I was pretty sure I had. But when we arrived at the farm, a bunch of the tools were sitting on a stump beside an empty barn whose doors were wide open. My eyes narrowed as I saw that. “Hmm. I did not put those there. So I guess I have the Harvest Goddess or Apple to thank.” I looked down at Fierce, who was panting up at me, tail wagging excitedly. “Welp, that’s a relief, anyway. We’ll still head up to the valley, though.”

I grabbed the axe for a moment, but I figured pretty fast that I didn’t really need it. Still, rather than set it back down or take it to the storage shed, something in my head told me to test out this yellow backpack Kylie Ann gave me. I reached around and pulled it off my shoulders, unzipped it, and looked inside. It…looked a lot like the inside of a normal backpack.

Feeling kind of dumb, I tried putting the axe inside the backpack and—well, it fit. Like, easily. As I stared into it, I could tell it made no sense what I was looking at, as though I was peering at a bird’s eye view into a home without a roof where the axe was lying on the floor. It looked so small. But when I reached in to grab it, my hand wrapped around it like usual, and I pulled it out, revealing the tool precisely as it should be.

“What the fuuuuck,” I muttered.

Woof!

“Pete!” a high pitched voice sang out of nowhere. I almost jumped clear out of my skin as I turned to face the sound, brandishing the axe in front of me.

“Apple!” I gasped, heaving for air all of a sudden. “What if people see you?! Should you really be out in the open here?”

Apple giggled, still in her normal, tiny size, looking up at me with an impish grin. “Only you and your dog can see me here,” she said. “Well, mostly only you.”

“What if they see me talking to you?” I asked.

She shrugged. “Just tell them you’re speaking with a fertility elf!”

“Oh yeah, good idea,” I muttered, rolling my eyes, my heartbeat starting to relax. “Why are you here?”

“I wanted to see you,” she said, grinning. “Is there anything I can help you with? It’s my job, after all.”

I looked out at the field. “Well, if no one can see you, do you mind gathering up all the rocks, branches, and weeds that have covered grandpa’s field since he stopped working?”

“I’ll do what I can!” she said, wiggling a determined little fist in front of her face, making her breasts quake. “I could use some Pete Juice to motivate me, though!”

“I think I’ve already provided ample motivation this morning,” I commented dryly.

“True enough,” she sighed. “Very well. Go into the valley, Pete. Explore freely—but do not rush your way into the mines. Dark powers await, and while it is filled with valuable prizes, you might find it…inhospitable.” She grinned at me almost deviously.

I smirked. “I’ll save the dark powers for another day.”

“A smart choice,” she assured me, nodding. “See you soon!” And with a poof, she was gone. Or at least I thought she was, but after I loaded all my tools into the bag, I looked out at the field. I saw her there pulling weeds already. By the time I made my way to the path that led into the valley, however, she had fallen forward from exhaustion or boredom with her face in the dirt and her ass in the air. I had to laugh at the sight. It seemed like she really did need a bit more Pete juice.

***

The way through the valley coming from my grandpa’s farm was starting to become familiar. Now that it was daytime I could appreciate it for its natural majesty.

Spring had already begun. All around me were signs of fertility—fields of wildflowers blooming a stone’s throw from a babbling brook, a faerie ring of colorful mushrooms, apple trees that grew in the wilderness, along with blackberry bushes…the variety of colorful, fruitful displays was impossible to miss.

There were also two bunnies having sex.

The valley smelled fresh and fragrant, the scents of those flowers carried to me on the wind, along with the pure stream and the clean air. I spotted a comfy looking rock in front of the stream, which was just deep enough to have some fish in its crystal blue waters.

The soft trickle was practically music to my ears, and for a moment I forgot everything. I forgot Queenie and Kylie Ann, I forgot the Harvest Goddess and Apple. I even almost forgot the panting goldendoodle slurping up stream water beside me. I rested my hand on his back and petted him.

“It’s peaceful out here,” I said. He didn’t make a sound in reply, but I felt as though he knew what I was talking about. “It really is a whole different world compared to the city.”

Fierce turned around and faced me, plopping his furry rump on the ground. He panted, beaming at me with his cute smile, his ears pulling back in a show of submission. I scratched under his neck and he let out a blissful groan that made me chuckle.

“Maybe I don’t need to do anything today,” I mused aloud. “Maybe we’ll just—”

And then I heard the music. It was a song, not unlike the one that Apple sang, and I knew at once that I’d discovered another Harvest Fairy already. Well, that was my assumption. But when I listened more carefully, the voices were even tinier than Apple’s, and there was more than one of them.

Worm on a hook, bobber on the line,

Cast your fishing pole just in time,

Reel in the big fish, then take a bite,

Free us three cute magical sprites

When we’re free we’re at your will,

Ready to use, inside us spill,

Don’t walk away, you’re already here,

Our directions are crystal clear.

I cast a confused look at Fierce Boy. “Did they say ‘inside us spill?’” I grunted.

Woof.

There was just one problem. I didn’t have a fishing pole. At least—I thought I didn’t, but when I rubbed my eyes, one appeared just across the stream from me. It looked cheap. After staring for a few more seconds, I recognized it as my own fishing pole—the one my grandpa bought for me when I was ten years old, so many years ago. It had duct tape around the handle where it was cracked, which was the big clue, but there were other signs as well.

I stood and leapt across the stream. To my shock, Fierce Boy cleared it just as easily, though my heart jumped in my chest when he made his attempt.

“Don’t scare me like that, little guy,” I grunted with a sigh of relief. 

Woof! 

I turned my attention back down on the fishing pole and picked it up. It felt smaller in my hands than I remembered it. “Well,” I huffed, looking at the eager pooch, “I guess we’re going to do some fishing.”

Woof!

Missy Sanford

Sunrise Fitness Studio had its first class of the day in less than an hour, but Missy was ready now. Business wasn’t exactly booming, but everyone in the valley owned their homes and buildings, with not a single mortgage in sight, since they were all family homes spanning generations or, in Missy and her mom’s case, bought in a lump sum when she arrived.

That meant that business overhead across Mineral Village was low. Most places were mom and pop shops and family run establishments. There were no workers to pay, and no rent or mortgage to deal with. That left mainly gas, food, and electricity. Electricity was mostly covered by the Harvest Goddess’s blessings—how, exactly, Missy didn’t know. Food used to always be provided by Old Joe, who brought most of the money and commerce into the valley through his farming and selling of what he produced.

She had no idea how things would work now. But she had some hope. Pete was back.

Missy lifted her leg up so that she could kiss her knee and pressed that whole leg against the wall. “Mmm,” she moaned. She loved the feeling of a good morning burn. With her leg up in this position, though, and the memory of Petey’s handsome face still so fresh in her memory, some invasive thoughts crept into her mind.

She, like most of the young women in town, didn’t have much in the way of sexual experience. She and Darlene had been so deprived back in high school that they used to steal her mom’s box wine on Friday nights and watch porn on the internet together. A few times they even masturbated side-by-side under a quilt made by Darlene’s late mother. Once…they made out.

She hadn’t really been that into the kiss with Darlene. It was just for practice. She wasn’t into chicks. What she was into was strong, handsome men—and Pete fit the bill better than any guy she’d seen pass through town in…honestly? Probably ever. These weren’t new feelings, either. She’d harbored a crush on him since she was probably nine or ten years old and he was just her summertime babysitter when school was out and her mom and dad still had work—before her dad left them both.

With her thigh still pressed against the wall, and her lips still pressed against her knee, Missy bit her lip as she felt a powerful urge overtake her. It was like her hand suddenly took on a will of its own, and next thing she knew, her fingers were rubbing against the crotch of her pants, and she was moaning—not from the satisfaction earned from a good stretch, but from a lust on its way to being quenched, if only temporarily.

She wasn’t wearing panties under her yoga pants, so the second she felt that damp spot she knew she’d need to change and start a load of laundry before her morning class. Her back arched even in that odd pose she found herself in, her senses soaring the second her fingers danced over her pussy.

Pete babysat her until she was twelve or thirteen years old. Even though he and Queenie were always together back then (and Missy had been much younger) that hadn’t stopped her from daydreaming. Even now, the version of Pete she saw in her head was him wearing those blue denim overalls he always wore when he helped his grandpa out on the farm. He had that blue cap, too, and the red bandana tied around his neck to catch his sweat.

More often than not, he didn’t wear a shirt underneath the overalls. He had one of those impossibly lucky builds. He was the kind of guy who could eat fried chicken and biscuits for every meal, five meals a day, and still look ripped somehow. Shit, he’d always been so hot.

Fuck it. She was committed to this now. Her mom was still out for another few hours at least, and the studio didn’t open its doors for another forty minutes. She might as well treat herself. She closed the blinds and sank into a bean bag chair in the corner, then peeled off her yoga pants completely, exposing her waxed pussy to the open air of the gym. It was dark, but enough light peeked in through the cracks in the blinds that she could make out her fingers slowly creeping down her stomach toward her slit.

Missy bit her lip and closed her eyes, imagining Pete’s face between her legs. She wanted to clamp her muscular thighs around his head and pull his lips against her cunt. Suck my pussy, Petey. Fucking suck it, please…

Shit. What was coming over her? Seeing him for, like, two minutes had brought a lust out of her that she couldn’t remember feeling in ages. She hadn’t even touched herself in more than a month, yet one look at his gorgeous mug and suddenly she was stripping down in her gym to fingerfuck herself? Absurd.

Yet, fingerfuck herself she did. She licked her index and middle finger, then pressed them against the slick lips of her pussy, running them up and down the soft and wet slit. Her face scrunched up and her eyes closed again as she tried not to make an indecent sound. “Nyaah—ohhh!” Mission failed successfully.

That wasn’t nearly enough. Missy frantically pulled up her sports bra, letting her tits spill out. It always felt good to free the girls after having them contained in tight fabric for too long, but it felt extra good when she was stroking her clit off with the other hand. Her cheeks burned in shame as she felt a little pool of her leaking lust form in her bean bag chair under her crotch and ass.

“Fuck,” she whimpered. “What the fuck are you doing to me, City Pete?!”

She could almost feel his tongue on her clit, and her eyes rolled back from the pleasure of it. She imagined him peppering her pussy with countless little kisses while his hands firmly gripped her tight, strong thighs and kept her legs parted as they tried to involuntarily clench around him.

Missy could be as horny as any chick—which is to say, not really this unusually horny, but seeing Pete and…hearing the news that he planned to stay in town, it opened something up inside her. It was like a brick in the wall of a dam had just been wiggled out, and now the whole thing was falling apart.

Queenie would probably be pissed if she knew Missy was thinking about fucking her former crush—but she was. She actually really, really was starting to consider putting the moves on Pete. He was staying in town, right? Well—so was Missy. They were stuck in this magical little village together. She wondered how much he knew about this place. He would need a guide. A submissive housewifey, fucky-sucky guide, maybe.

Missy pulled her fingers away from her cunt to suck on them for a moment, imagining it was Pete’s cock. She’d seen it once when she peeped on him skinny-dipping with Queenie the last year he visited. It was fairly cold, being early in the morning, but it still looked more than big enough to get the job done. She tasted her own pussy juice on her fingers, and it grossed her out for a second, but then she imagined how hot it would be to taste the same juice on his cock. It would mean that—that his cock had been inside her.

She imagined Pete’s big dick pulsing inside her mouth, filling her throat with cum. She imagined spitting out that cum and smearing it inside her fertile pussy and—wait, what?!

That was an alarming kink she never knew she possessed. She’d better get that fucking impulse under control before she figured out a way to seduce him and—wait, what?!

Was she really considering this? But she looked down at herself, basically naked in her own gym, screwing herself in a bean bag chair, less than roughly forty minutes from her morning class. Oh yes. She was sure she wanted to have Pete for real. For one thing, he was probably her only chance at getting married before thirty, being stuck out here in the boonies. Sure, they were magical boonies blessed by an ancient goddess—but they were still boonies nonetheless.

All the women in town had their own goals and ambitions. Missy respected them for that. Her mom had this gym. Liz Luna was singularly focused on keeping the town’s magic alive and its secret safe. Queenie wanted to make sure her daughter grew up happy and healthy to one day form a family of her own, if she so chose. Darlene was trying to open up a Fertile Valley Museum or something wacky like that. Even the goth chick Becca Sue, who lived with her aunt on the edge of town, had her flower garden hobby and moody-ass music.

But Missy? All she wanted was to get married to a good, handsome man and be a doting housewife. It was a stupid, old-fashioned dream, but it was her dream. She kind of resented Queenie for having her own daughter, come to think of it. She loved Queenie like an older cousin but…Queenie already had something like a family.

The infuriating thing was that every time a guy moved to town they moved away or disappeared a few months later, usually before they could learn any of the town’s secrets. It had happened over the years several times. She worried it would be the same for Pete.

“Over my needy, fit little body,” she said, pinching a nipple as her other hand got back to work on her pussy. “You’d best believe I’m coming for you City Pete—pun intended, I guess. Mmm!!”