Steele My Heart (Bridge to Abingdon Book 1) by Tatum West

Author:Tatum West [West, Tatum]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Written Rainbow Publishing
Published: 2018-10-31T16:00:00+00:00

I’ve got a date with a hog, and it’s not going to end well—not for him, anyway.

I grew up in South Carolina where pork barbecue is a religion in its own right, and whole hog wood smoking is how the devout demonstrate their reverence. I smoked my first whole hog by myself when I was twelve years old, following family tradition and technique passed down through more generations than I’ll ever be able to count. The only change I’ve made to the process I learned from my father is how I select the object of devotion. My father—a minister who was close to God but believed in his heart that all food came from the grocery store—ordered his pigs from the butcher’s counter at the local Piggly Wiggly. When I started studying food, how it’s produced, and why so much of it is tasteless, bad for us, or just plain bad, I also began to learn a better way.

Oliver Roundstone Farms, north of Abingdon, raises grain and grass fed, free-range, hormone free livestock. He’s got the happiest cows, pigs, hens, and goats I’ve ever seen. The farm is beautiful, green, and clean, as are his animals. He treats his stock like creatures in a petting zoo until the fateful day comes when they sacrifice their lives for the belly of mankind. It’s a terrible thing, but I’ve made my peace with it—at least the way Oliver and his family do it.

Oliver greets me with an outstretched hand and a warm smile before I can even step out of my truck.

“Good to see you, Kendall,” he says, leaning on the front end of my old Toyota. “You’re still driving this old thing. When you getting another truck? This thing lost its luster during the first Bush Administration.”

Oliver always gives me shit about my truck. It’s twenty years old and looks like crap, but it serves its purpose. I take good care of the parts under the hood, leaving the faded paint and body panel dings for people to laugh over. It’s paid for, gets great mileage, hauls anything I need to haul, and has never left me stranded.

“She’s got just shy of one-sixty on this engine,” I say. “I figure she’s got another hundred-thousand, easy. Why do I need a car payment?”

Oliver shakes his head at me, tipping his head down, smiling at his shoes, full of warm humility. He looks back up with a big grin. “Let’s go look at some hogs.”

I listen to Oliver describe the merits of each of the nineteen adults he’s got on hoof, ready to slaughter. They all have names—which makes this process harder—but also makes the animals easier to manage. They’re smart creatures and they come when called, allowing for a close inspection.

“Jerry here has a good body size, excellent muscle mass, and he’s enjoyed his summer of fattening up,” Oliver says, scratching the massive animal’s rump while it grunts with pleasure. “He’s got a sweet-tooth. Loves apples. I think he’ll smoke up real nice.

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