fine. We can take the time to read something new, if it’s not too long.”
Stopping at a library would never have occurred to me. But that was Julia. No matter what we had to accomplish or how little we had, she’d find a way to mix in something to make the kids feel special.
We started off while the morning was young. I looked back at the farmhouse and never expected to see it again, despite Julia’s longing. But I thanked God for the house, because in it we’d mended the rift between us. I was still worried. I was still wondering about how to feed my children. But the world was not as heavy as it had been. I picked up Sarah and put her on my shoulders. It seemed like the birds were singing all around, and soon I spotted a wagon heading our way.
NINE
Julia
It was a gift of fortune, gaining a ride so quickly, even though it was a slow one. A bearded man and his teenage son driving a team of horses and a farm wagon sauntered up beside us and stopped with a friendly greeting.
“Say, there,” said the man. “Out visitin’ today?” He was looking us up and down real good, but smiling just the same.
“On the way to Dearing,” Sam told him.
“We need to find out who owns the farm over the hill there,” I added, figuring this was a neighbor who would probably know something about the farm.
The man glanced at Sam and then back at me and shook his head. “Ain’t anxious to see it sell,” he said. “Where’re you all from?”
“Pennsylvania,” Robert told him.
“Got family ’round here?” the man questioned with a frown.
“In Mt. Vernon,” Sam offered. “We’d be much obliged for a ride in your wagon.”
“Well, you can pile in, I guess,” the man told us. “We’s headed into Dearing, all right. But you ain’t gonna find Mrs. Graham there. Last I knew, she was over to Belle Rive, but you can ask Hazel Sharpe. She’ll know for sure.”
My heart leaped up inside me. We had a name, a hope. Someone to talk to about the place!
“Don’t know how you come to know about that old farm,” the man was saying. “I’d buy it off Emma m’self if I had the money, but it ain’t even for sale yet. We live just down the road. Graham field comes right up again’ mine. Nice ground too.”
Sam looked at me, and I knew what he was thinking. Just like he’d said, preference would be given to someone local if it came to that. And we didn’t even have money.
“My name’s George Hammond,” the man told us. Then he gestured to his boy. “This here’s Sam.”
Sarah laughed. “That’s my daddy’s name!”
George chuckled. “It was my daddy’s name too. What’s yours?”
“Sarah.”
“Wortham,” Sam added and shook George Hammond’s hand.
The wagon smelled of hogs and hay. We climbed up beside three wooden boxes, and George started the horses moving again before we’d sat down.
“Wilametta sent me with a list of things to get,” he said. “That’s my wife. I ain’t gonna manage but about half of it, though, the way things are right now. Be careful with that box in the middle, young’uns. That’s Wilametta’s eggs. We’ll be tradin’ ’em for the dry goods, I expect.”
“What’s in the other two?” Robert asked.
“Robert!” I exclaimed, horrified that he would so casually ask a stranger’s business. He knew better than that.
“It’s all right, ma’am,” Mr. Hammond assured me. “Got nothin’ to hide, that’s for sure. One on the right’s full of feathers for Bonnie Gray. She’s wantin’ to make pillows and such for her daughter Juney’s weddin’. But the other one . . .”
Young Sam Hammond snickered. “Take a look.”
George Hammond hooted and turned to Robert with a smile. “Go ahead, if you want, son. Take a look. Might never see’d anything like it if you come from the city.”
Robert reached for the box, then turned to look at me.
“Ah, go on,” Mr. Hammond exclaimed. “It’s all right, ma’am. It ain’t gonna bite him.”
The younger
Stopping at a library would never have occurred to me. But that was Julia. No matter what we had to accomplish or how little we had, she’d find a way to mix in something to make the kids feel special.
We started off while the morning was young. I looked back at the farmhouse and never expected to see it again, despite Julia’s longing. But I thanked God for the house, because in it we’d mended the rift between us. I was still worried. I was still wondering about how to feed my children. But the world was not as heavy as it had been. I picked up Sarah and put her on my shoulders. It seemed like the birds were singing all around, and soon I spotted a wagon heading our way.
NINE
Julia
It was a gift of fortune, gaining a ride so quickly, even though it was a slow one. A bearded man and his teenage son driving a team of horses and a farm wagon sauntered up beside us and stopped with a friendly greeting.
“Say, there,” said the man. “Out visitin’ today?” He was looking us up and down real good, but smiling just the same.
“On the way to Dearing,” Sam told him.
“We need to find out who owns the farm over the hill there,” I added, figuring this was a neighbor who would probably know something about the farm.
The man glanced at Sam and then back at me and shook his head. “Ain’t anxious to see it sell,” he said. “Where’re you all from?”
“Pennsylvania,” Robert told him.
“Got family ’round here?” the man questioned with a frown.
“In Mt. Vernon,” Sam offered. “We’d be much obliged for a ride in your wagon.”
“Well, you can pile in, I guess,” the man told us. “We’s headed into Dearing, all right. But you ain’t gonna find Mrs. Graham there. Last I knew, she was over to Belle Rive, but you can ask Hazel Sharpe. She’ll know for sure.”
My heart leaped up inside me. We had a name, a hope. Someone to talk to about the place!
“Don’t know how you come to know about that old farm,” the man was saying. “I’d buy it off Emma m’self if I had the money, but it ain’t even for sale yet. We live just down the road. Graham field comes right up again’ mine. Nice ground too.”
Sam looked at me, and I knew what he was thinking. Just like he’d said, preference would be given to someone local if it came to that. And we didn’t even have money.
“My name’s George Hammond,” the man told us. Then he gestured to his boy. “This here’s Sam.”
Sarah laughed. “That’s my daddy’s name!”
George chuckled. “It was my daddy’s name too. What’s yours?”
“Sarah.”
“Wortham,” Sam added and shook George Hammond’s hand.
The wagon smelled of hogs and hay. We climbed up beside three wooden boxes, and George started the horses moving again before we’d sat down.
“Wilametta sent me with a list of things to get,” he said. “That’s my wife. I ain’t gonna manage but about half of it, though, the way things are right now. Be careful with that box in the middle, young’uns. That’s Wilametta’s eggs. We’ll be tradin’ ’em for the dry goods, I expect.”
“What’s in the other two?” Robert asked.
“Robert!” I exclaimed, horrified that he would so casually ask a stranger’s business. He knew better than that.
“It’s all right, ma’am,” Mr. Hammond assured me. “Got nothin’ to hide, that’s for sure. One on the right’s full of feathers for Bonnie Gray. She’s wantin’ to make pillows and such for her daughter Juney’s weddin’. But the other one . . .”
Young Sam Hammond snickered. “Take a look.”
George Hammond hooted and turned to Robert with a smile. “Go ahead, if you want, son. Take a look. Might never see’d anything like it if you come from the city.”
Robert reached for the box, then turned to look at me.
“Ah, go on,” Mr. Hammond exclaimed. “It’s all right, ma’am. It ain’t gonna bite him.”
The younger
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