word from him. But she didn’t know what to do next until she noticed Trapper picketed near the spring. “Fenn,” she called up to him, “could I take Trapper for a ride, just to the turnaround and back?”
He regarded her hopeful, upturned countenance for a moment before he assented with obvious reluctance. “Take it easy,” he cautioned. “No loud noise or sudden movement; he startles easily.”
“I’ll be careful,” she promised, and went to get the bridle from the barn.
At first she held the horse to a walk; but when she saw he was going to cooperate, she let him break into an easy run. Up to the turnaround she swiftly flew, and returned with joy shining in her face. “Oh Fenn,” she exclaimed, finding him splitting shakes down on the ground, “Trapper behaved perfectly, and I know he liked it! You wouldn’t care if I rode him now and then, would you?”
“Go ahead,” he said impatiently, holding the edge of the broad knife poised on the cedar bolt. “But be careful with him. If you ever lost him, there’d be hell to pay.” He gave the knife a sharp whack with a wooden mallet and a shake went flying off, almost hitting her as she jumped back just in time.
Sevana put Trapper on his picket and curried him. But the sight of the overgrown garden space behind the house gave her an idea, and soon she was back with another proposal. “Are you going to plant a garden this year?” she asked, standing this time at a safe distance from the scattering of shakes around him.
“Nah—last year it was more trouble than it was worth.” Already anticipating her next question, he said, “But go ahead, if you want to.”
“I’d like to try. I’ve never had a garden before. Do you have any seeds?”
“There’s a few under the stairs.”
Sevana went inside to look. The first box she pulled out was filled with papers. They appeared to be financial records—bank statements and pay receipts. She dug down to see if anything else was underneath. One paper stood out to her. It was a bank notice printed in capital letters: FURTHER FAILURE TO MAKE PAYMENTS ON TIME WILL RESULT IN FORECLOSURE. There was also a sizable balance and a late fee. The date was December, only five months ago.
Even while Sevana was pushing in that box and pulling out another, she was considering the meaning of that notice. Fenn was having trouble paying off the homestead. Almost as quickly she recalled his words: How could I refuse, seeing he pays so generously for the favor?
She clapped a hand over her mouth. So that was it! Fenn had insisted she stay—had consented to it in the first place—only because he was having a hard time paying off his place. She should have known he didn’t want her. His manner had been plain enough. She had only believed his words because she wanted so badly for them to be true.
Her thoughts spinning, she went out with the three packages of vegetable seeds she’d found in the other catch-all box, and fell to spading the plot. She should go, she admitted, now that she knew the truth. But if she did, Fenn wouldn’t get the money he was counting on. No, she finally decided, raking the dirt smooth even while her brow remained furrowed, if she could help him in this way, she would. What did it matter if there was nothing in it for her? She shouldn’t have placed so much hope in him in the first place. The summer would soon be over, and then she could go on to the things that gave her life its true meaning.
The garden planted, she climbed the ladder and waited for Fenn to finish pounding in a nail. “Would you mind if I put in a small flowerbed, too?” She was proud of how casually she spoke, as if she had not just discovered his secret.
“Do what you like,” he said in exasperation, around the nail in his mouth.
“You’d have to get flower seeds from town,” she informed him doubtfully.
He began hammering without reply.
Sevana didn’t know what to make of his silence, but decided to take it in
He regarded her hopeful, upturned countenance for a moment before he assented with obvious reluctance. “Take it easy,” he cautioned. “No loud noise or sudden movement; he startles easily.”
“I’ll be careful,” she promised, and went to get the bridle from the barn.
At first she held the horse to a walk; but when she saw he was going to cooperate, she let him break into an easy run. Up to the turnaround she swiftly flew, and returned with joy shining in her face. “Oh Fenn,” she exclaimed, finding him splitting shakes down on the ground, “Trapper behaved perfectly, and I know he liked it! You wouldn’t care if I rode him now and then, would you?”
“Go ahead,” he said impatiently, holding the edge of the broad knife poised on the cedar bolt. “But be careful with him. If you ever lost him, there’d be hell to pay.” He gave the knife a sharp whack with a wooden mallet and a shake went flying off, almost hitting her as she jumped back just in time.
Sevana put Trapper on his picket and curried him. But the sight of the overgrown garden space behind the house gave her an idea, and soon she was back with another proposal. “Are you going to plant a garden this year?” she asked, standing this time at a safe distance from the scattering of shakes around him.
“Nah—last year it was more trouble than it was worth.” Already anticipating her next question, he said, “But go ahead, if you want to.”
“I’d like to try. I’ve never had a garden before. Do you have any seeds?”
“There’s a few under the stairs.”
Sevana went inside to look. The first box she pulled out was filled with papers. They appeared to be financial records—bank statements and pay receipts. She dug down to see if anything else was underneath. One paper stood out to her. It was a bank notice printed in capital letters: FURTHER FAILURE TO MAKE PAYMENTS ON TIME WILL RESULT IN FORECLOSURE. There was also a sizable balance and a late fee. The date was December, only five months ago.
Even while Sevana was pushing in that box and pulling out another, she was considering the meaning of that notice. Fenn was having trouble paying off the homestead. Almost as quickly she recalled his words: How could I refuse, seeing he pays so generously for the favor?
She clapped a hand over her mouth. So that was it! Fenn had insisted she stay—had consented to it in the first place—only because he was having a hard time paying off his place. She should have known he didn’t want her. His manner had been plain enough. She had only believed his words because she wanted so badly for them to be true.
Her thoughts spinning, she went out with the three packages of vegetable seeds she’d found in the other catch-all box, and fell to spading the plot. She should go, she admitted, now that she knew the truth. But if she did, Fenn wouldn’t get the money he was counting on. No, she finally decided, raking the dirt smooth even while her brow remained furrowed, if she could help him in this way, she would. What did it matter if there was nothing in it for her? She shouldn’t have placed so much hope in him in the first place. The summer would soon be over, and then she could go on to the things that gave her life its true meaning.
The garden planted, she climbed the ladder and waited for Fenn to finish pounding in a nail. “Would you mind if I put in a small flowerbed, too?” She was proud of how casually she spoke, as if she had not just discovered his secret.
“Do what you like,” he said in exasperation, around the nail in his mouth.
“You’d have to get flower seeds from town,” she informed him doubtfully.
He began hammering without reply.
Sevana didn’t know what to make of his silence, but decided to take it in
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