Page 26 of Simply Yours

Easier said than done.

* * *

Weeks later

The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and early morning dew, the mist still clinging stubbornly to the grass like a secret it wasn’t ready to let go of. Jason exhaled, his breath barely visible in the cool morning air, as he secured the last wooden crate onto the trailer hitched to his truck. The rhythmic creak of the trailer settling under the weight was oddly satisfying—a sound that meant things were getting done.

He glanced up just in time to catch Matthew practically strutting across the gravel driveway, adjusting the cuffs of his Western dress shirt like he was preparing for a magazine shoot instead of a farmers’ gathering. He’d seen peacocks less proud than his brother at that moment.

Jason smirked.

“These are expensive duds, you know…” Matthew drawled, turning slightly to give them all a full view of his ‘ensemble.’ His shaggy hair brushed against the collar of his shirt, the same darn shirt Jason had put his foot down on—only for Matthew to dig his heels in deeper.

Jason had told him no.

A hard, unequivocalno.

But apparently, Matthew had made an executive decision on behalf of the entire family.

“They’re for promotion,” Matthew had argued, insisting thatallthe men wear them – including Toni’s husband, Derek.

And so, here they were—each of them outfitted in crisp Western dress shirts with pearl buttons, the Baird Farm logo embroidered over the breast pocket. The ‘Bar-B’ insignia had been stitched onto the collar points and cuffs, a small but significant mark of their legacy. Most of them had already rolled up their sleeves, but not Matthew. No, Matthew’s cuffs were buttoned in place, pressed to perfection, like he was about to step into a boardroom instead of a Founder’s Day gathering.

Jason shook his head and adjusted the brim of his hat, letting his gaze drift toward the horizon where the mist was slowly lifting, revealing the rolling acres of land that had been in their family for generations. Today was going to be a hot one—he could feel it in his bones. The humidity was already thick, promising a long, sticky day ahead.

A warm chuckle broke through his thoughts.

“Oh my gosh, you aresovain,” Toni said, shaking her head as she shot a look at Matthew.

Jason huffed a quiet laugh, shifting the weight of another crate into place beside Derek. It was barely six in the morning, and already Matthew was putting on a show.

"Hey—you wanted PR for the farm,” Matthew countered, unfazed. “Well, I'm making sure people see us and know. I'm PR-ing to the best of my ability right now." His grin was darn near blinding, full of self-satisfaction.

Jason rolled his eyes.

Typical.

The scent of freshly turned soil mingled with the faint aroma of hickory-smoked meat as he turned his attention back to the trailer. Today was Founder’s Day—a tradition as old as Yonder itself. Farmers from all over gathered like a pop-up marketplace, a place where neighbors became customers and strangers left as friends. It wasn’t just about selling goods—it was about the community, about showing up, about standing shoulder to shoulder with the people who understood the struggle of working the land.

The Ember Creek Orphanage would have a charity table, as always, and the beekeepers would be there with jars of golden honey that caught the light just right. There’d be loaves of warm bread from the old Carson family, braided placemats woven by the Thompsons, wind chimes crafted from recycled bits of metal that somehow turned rust into art.

For the Bairds, it was about more than just profit. They’d be selling baby chicks, slabs of smoked ham, and the secret meat rub their father had perfected years ago—the one that turned ordinary barbecue into something memorable. None of them particularly liked making money off their dad’s memory, but this was a way to share a piece of him with the community, to keep his name alive in the laughter and the stories told around dinner tables.

Luke had designed the stickers for the jars—clean, simple, with the farm’s logo in bold print. They didn’t have many calves this year, and Jason wasn’t willing to part with any of the horses, so this was their best bet at bringing in a little extra without sacrificing too much.

More than anything, though, Jason wanted a day without that constant, gnawing pressure tosell, sell, sell.He wanted to talk with people, shake hands, and feel like part of something bigger than a bottom line.

He let out a slow breath, scanning the setup one last time.

Today wasn’t about survival or struggle.

It was about belonging… and family.

And if Matthew had to strut around like a show pony to make sure people noticed them? Well, Jason supposed there were worse things.

He cast his brother a sideways glance, smirking. “Just try not to blind the customers with all that shine, will ya?”

Matthew scoffed. “No promises.”

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