A Time to Bloom (Leah's Garden #2)(62)

He paused and frowned. “T-twenty-one, I think. I guess no one was keeping t-track when I was little.”

Lark swallowed. One more peek into the young man’s shrouded past. Adam had said his nephew was handed around after his mother died and his father disappeared.

Lilac propped her elbows on the table to hold her coffee cup. “Who taught you woodworking?”

“Uh, I g-guess my uncle Edward. I thought I would live with him and Aunt Sonja until I grew up, but she died t-trying to have a baby, and he got the c-consumption.

“I whittled lots, but Adam really t-taught me to build things. He even found me a cabinetmaker so I could apprentice before he and Aunt Elizabeth decided to move west.” He smiled at Del. “Your d-desk is nearly finished. I watch for wood wherever I am. I used part of a b-barn door for your desk. It must have been dumped by the tornado. I know people are looking for wood all the time for stoves, but take that tree we were sawing on. Let it dry and age, and it would be good for a chair or maybe . . .” He shrugged. “I look at a piece of wood, and I see what it might b-become.” He looked up to see all three sisters staring at him.

Lark’s smile lit her face and danced in her eyes. “I’ve never heard you talk so much. You’re an artist, you know.”

Jesse shook his head. “Nah, I just like wood. It d-don’t talk mean at you.”

Like some people do, Lark thought. In his case, it sounded like many people. He and Climie had so much in common. No wonder they were drawn to each other.

She slapped her hands on the table. “I think the dew is dried, so let’s begin. Jesse and I will do the cutting, then you two will rake the wheat into a bundle and wrap a couple of stalks of wheat around it. We’ll shock it before we quit. The oats will probably be ready when the wheat is threshed.” She looked at Jesse. “You ever seen a flail?”

He shook his head. “All this harvest stuff is new to me.”

“Just like the rest of us,” Del muttered as she picked up the dishes.

Lark and Jesse took the scythe and the cradle out to the field. “Just like we did with the hay, lay it flat. I’ll start, and you come a couple of sweeps behind me so we get all the middle left standing.”

“You use the cradle, see if it works better,” Jesse said. “If it does, I’ll do another for tomorrow.”

Lark hefted the cradle. It was heavier. She pulled back and swung the scythe. The wheat fell smoothly into the cradle, then laid out flat when she swung it back. Step by step, she worked up the side of the field with Jesse four steps behind and beside her. “Can you tell a difference?” she asked as she kept the pace.

“The cradle makes the wheat lie more even.”

They stopped to look back at where Lilac was bent over, gathering the cut wheat into a bundle, then laying it down to wrap several stalks around it and tying a knot. She set the bundle aside and repeated the process.

They stopped for a water break when they got back to the starting point. “You want to change places?” she asked of Lilac and Del.

“We can try. But let me tell you, bundling takes practice.” Lilac let the water pour down her chin.

“Surely there must be an easier way.” Del arched her back, kneading her waist. “I’ll teach fifty kids any day rather than this.”

“Even Silas Gruber from last year?”

“Ten of him.”

By noontime they’d made progress, but still the field stretched on, seeming endless.

“And I thought haying was hard work.” Lilac shook her head as they ate a quick, cold dinner.

By the time the setting sun sent golden fingers over the field, they had nearly a third of the wheat cut and bundled. Lark showed them how to stand one bundle on end, then lean two more into it so that it stood upright, the better for drying.

The shock tumbled over as soon as she released it.

They stared at the fallen shock, then at one another, and shook their heads.

“Well, here we go again.” This time Lark stood the bundles up together and rammed them firmly upright. “Now stay there.”

It did.

“Guess you showed it.” Lilac snorted, trying to keep from laughing.

Lark felt a burst of disgust at her youngest sister, then shook her head. “Yep, I did. We are in charge here, not wheat bundles.”

“Will you stay for supper, Jesse?” Del asked as they all stumbled toward the soddy.

“No, Forsythia and Adam are expectin’ me. I’ll s-see you ladies first thing in the morning.” He touched his hat and headed off.

“How does he still have the energy to walk home?” Lilac shook her head.

“Just as well he does. That way we’ll still have some food left for tomorrow.”

Lark joined in the weary chuckle and headed to milk Buttercup. Her hands, sore and blistered from the scythe and sharp wheat stalks, screamed as she squeezed the cow’s teats. Gritting her teeth, she pushed through. They’d worn gloves, but hers already had slits in them from this first day. She’d need to mend them tonight. If she could stay awake long enough.

Yawning, Lark leaned her head against the cow’s warm flank. “Lord, thank you for this land and the means to harvest its fruit. Please help us through the rest of the way.”

Perhaps a couple more days on the wheat, and then would come the threshing—another new experience. Then on to the oats and later the corn. Perhaps those would be easier? At least they would be more experienced by then.