Fortune's Magic Farm Suzanne Selfors (best books for 20 year olds txt) 📖

we here?” His intense gaze swept over Isabelle, then the others, coming to rest upon Walnut’s seed packet. “I presume that I have the pleasure of finally meeting the Fortunes?”

Walnut shook his head, trying to hide the seeds, but Nesbitt stepped forward. “Your presumption is correct.” Though Nesbitt’s voice remained calm, his hands clenched angrily behind his back.

Mr. Supreme slid a pair of sunglasses onto his nose and unbuttoned his driving coat. “I see that you’ve brought your magic with you. What have you done with my rain?”

“The Cloud Clover was not yours to plant,” Nesbitt said.

“Those seeds were stolen property,” Sage added, bravely stepping forward. Isabelle’s heart pounded faster. Mr. Supreme still terrified her. I’m not as brave as I thought.

“Stolen property?” Mr. Supreme’s upper lip glistened. He pulled a canister of antibacterial wipes from his pocket and dabbed his lip. “I had no idea. The man who sold them to me said nothing about stealing them.”

“Where else have you planted the clover?” Nesbitt asked.

Mr. Supreme raised his pencil-thin eyebrows. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He didn’t even try to make it sound like the truth. He delighted in his lies. Isabelle wanted to punch him right in the nose.

Mr. Supreme ran his gloved hand along the roadster’s chrome. “I’m willing to make a deal, Fortune. I suppose you’d like me to stop searching the Northern Shore with my gyrocopters. That could be arranged but only if you bring my rain back.”

Nesbitt took a long, deep breath. Is he considering the proposition? Isabelle wondered. Calling off the search would make life less worrisome at the farm and would make Sage’s job a lot easier, but at a terrible cost.

A little smile sat on Mr. Supreme’s face. He might have excelled at ruining people’s lives, but he stunk at lying.

“Don’t believe him.” Isabelle stumbled forward, grabbing her grandfather’s arm. “He’ll keep looking. I know he will.”

“And who are you, little girl?” Mr. Supreme glared over the rims of his sunglasses.

Isabelle remembered how scared she had felt that morning in the factory, when she had told him that she couldn’t work more hours. She remembered her trembling hands, the way her words had squeaked out of her mouth, the way everyone had watched as she, a stupid factory worker, had tried to appeal to Mr. Supreme’s sympathies. This time it would be different. She put her hands on her hips. “I’m the one who got away,” she said proudly.

“What?”

“You tried to catch my mother and me but we both got away.”

“Isabelle,” Nesbitt hissed. “Say no more.”

“I want him to know,” she insisted. “I want him to know that he can’t make everyone do what he wants.”

“Can’t I?” Mr. Supreme narrowed his eyes. “I do believe I’m looking at a young tender. How very interesting.” He removed his driving gloves and twirled them as he leaned against the roadster. “Perhaps you would like to come and live with me, little girl. I can offer you a much better life. A palace, a gyrocopter of your own, riches beyond your imagination. What could these old men possibly offer you?”

Isabelle took a deep breath, ready to launch into a long list of things.

“Isabelle,” Sage warned.

She had taken the oath. No one had to remind her of that. But oh, how she wanted to tell Mr. Supreme that all his riches could never compare to one square inch of Fortune’s Farm.

“Just tell me what you want and I’ll make it happen,” Mr. Supreme said.

“I want you to go away and never come back to Runny Cove.”

He snorted. “I have no intention of going away. Share your magic with me and you’ll be the most famous little girl in the entire world.”

“But you see, I have shared my magic with you.” Isabelle pointed up the hill. Sage, Walnut, Nesbitt, and Grandma Maxine stepped aside.

Mr. Supreme’s smiled faded. “What have you done?” he cried, staring at the mountain. A flock of seagulls nested on its peak. He whipped around and glared at Isabelle. “What have you done with my factory?” He lunged at her.

Grandma Maxine wrapped her arms around Isabelle while Sage, Nesbitt, and Walnut stepped in front of her, providing a protective wall that Mr. Supreme would have to fight his way through.

“Your factory is gone,” Nesbitt said. “The rain is gone. There’s nothing for you in this town.”

“We want you to go away!” Isabelle cried.

Mr. Supreme shook a fist. “I made this town. These people can’t survive without my factory. They need me.”

“Do they?” Nesbitt asked. “They don’t look like they need you.” He pointed to the sand dunes where the Limewigs happily strolled. Some kids were playing catch with a factory hard hat and Mr. Hench was digging in the dirt with his umbrella handle.

“Hench?” Mr. Supreme shouted. “HENCH! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”

Mr. Hench glanced up and smiled. “I’m collecting potato bugs.”

Mr. Supreme whipped off his sunglasses. “Potato bugs?” He stomped to the road’s edge. “I don’t pay you to collect potato bugs. Get back to work, all of you. GET BACK TO WORK!”

But no one paid him any mind. They just kept strolling, and playing, and digging.

Mr. Supreme cursed. But then a fake smile spread across his face and he steadied his voice. “Come now, Fortune. Surely we are men of reason.”

“You are lucky that I am a man of reason,” Nesbitt said between clenched teeth. “For there’s many a man who would kill you for what you did to my family.”

“That’s all in the past,” Mr. Supreme said. “But the future is bright. With your magic and my wealth, we could rule the world.”

Rage flashed across Nesbitt’s face. “Your kind have ruled the world for far too long.” He straightened to his full height, casting a shadow across Mr. Supreme. “Isabelle spoke true. It’s time for you to go away.”

Mr. Supreme snickered. “I’m not afraid of you.”

Uncle Walnut cleared his throat and reached into one of his pockets, pulling out a seed packet. “You seem to be a