Page 12 of Apple Boy

“You clean up well, lad. I had no idea you had gold hair”, he joked. “The girls of Mallowick best hold their drawers up! For if a pretty young-’un like you’s let loose in town come payday, I’d say there’d be a riot.” I let out a chuckle. I had no idea how much Aryn overheard of my conversation with Adam the day before. Did he know I was an aristocrat? Did he know that Adam and I liked one another? If so, what would he do about it? He appeared to be a kindly fellow, but I’d been fooled before.

Out of all the men employed by Sewell, it appeared that whatever influence the Star-fall had over them, it did not touch me, Aryn, Adam, or for that matter, the children. Maybe those men who became docile in the presence of Farmer Sewell were already weak of mind and easier to influence?

“Uh, hmm,” a young female voice squeaked. I turned to see one of Adam’s little sisters standing at the barn door.

“Ma said the porridge is ready,” she delivered in a sweet, light voice, and then she ran in the direction of the pigeon loft to rouse the children.

The harvesters rolled from their hay nests, stood, stretched their arms, and bowed their backs. I observed that there was still no camaraderie between them. These men had probably known one another all of their lives, and worked for Sewell for years, just like Aryn, and yet, there was no banter, cat calling or any of the behaviors I’d observed from groups of men. The feeling I got from them was that they had no vitality or enthusiasm. Life had not been kind to them, and living in the Pasturelands was undoubtedly hard. But they behaved like dumb cattle going where directed and doing as they were told. It didn’t appear that any of the men had a thought of their own.

I heard the children before I saw them pass by the barn, and so I followed them through the courtyard.

“Adaaam! Jessie woke wi’ a pigeon doin’ droppin’s on her face.” A young boy called excitedly on running from the pigeon loft, his Pasturelands accent so thick it was nearly undecipherable.

Adam was standing by the farmhouse door, and on seeing him, I felt a longing tug and painful twist in my belly. I’d hated having to reject him, but I assured myself it was in Adam’s best interest and I would not put him in danger.

“I did NOT!” A red-faced girl in the crowd of children protested insistently and then put her face in her hands and started to cry. Adam scowled at the other children and their mocking laughter, the look warning them not to join in with the ribbing. Adam knelt beside Jessie.

“Ah, but Jessie love, that’s good luck, that is. Pigeons don’t just do droppin’s on anyone. They choose the prettiest girls. That pidge was just letting you know you’re special”, he gentled. The little girl drew her hands away from her red, tear-stained eyes and slowly looked up at Adam.

“Is ‘at true?” she sniffed, her lower lip trembling.

“Of course,”

The child seems to stand straighter, and her smile beamed. “See, that pidge chose me cos I’s pretty.” The girl puffed out her chest and declared to the world at large, and then she stuck her tongue out at the boy who had ribbed her.

Seeing how generously Adam handled the crying child made my heart swell. As he righted himself, Adam caught my eye and the dart of sadness in the look he sent winded me to my core. It communicated a disdain I’d never seen from him before. Gods. What had I done?

I joined the queue of men and children for breakfast and by the time I stepped into the kitchen for my bowl of porridge, to my relief Farmer Sewell was nowhere to be seen.

“Glad them clothes are of use to ye, no point leavin’ them to the moths in Evan’s chest,” Adam’s mother said, looking at the oversized garments I wore.

“Thank you, Mrs. Sewell. I am much obliged. It’s very kind of you to let me wear them.”

“Ah, tush. Call me Rosalie like everyone else. The clothes was Adam’s idea. He said you was down on your luck and wanted to help. He’s a good boy is my Adam.”

“Yes, he has a heart of gold,” I replied, then smiled when Rosalie nodded in agreement and plopped an extra spoonful of thick porridge in my bowl and then sprinkled some berries on top. She handed the bowl to me with a wink. Again, I was heartened to be the recipient of such undeserved kindness.

I joined Aryn sitting on a bench outside the barn, and we ate swiftly and in silence. We were to be back in the orchard before Farmer Sewell could berate us and let Nico loose.

Having lost my earlier feeling of euphoria at having clean clothes and becoming entangled with the farmers’ delicious son, I began the second working day in my whole life feeling exhausted, more so than when I’d slept on the streets of Mallowick. The bright fall morning had a biting chill wind to it but, to my relief the thick homespun shirt I now wore proved warmer than I’d expected. I was so grateful to Adam for the new clothing but remained tongue-tied when he sauntered down our line of trees with his ladder, and a basket slung over each shoulder. I understood his urge to leave Blackdown and find his brother, and my outright rejection of his idea of us traveling together must have stung, but I couldn’t allow him to travel with me. With my fine features and golden hair, I had learned that I seemed to stand out and attract trouble. And apart from rolling in muck, there was nothing I could do at this time to change my appearance and fade into the background. I tried to convince myself that I was doing a kindness in denying Adam. I was keenly aware that I was desperately lonesome and far too attracted to Adam for my own good. If we spent more time in the close confines of a stagecoach or overnight at a coaching inn, I would not be able to hide my fondness for the farmers’ son. There would surely be the kind of business that Adam had been reluctant to try in the tub, and that would not do—not here in Erias. No, I would continue as I’d originally planned—work until I had enough coin to travel and then be on my way to Serein, alone.

I lowered my head and, lost in my thoughts, got on with my task of collecting windfalls from the beneath the trees. My back ached by the time I’d filled and emptied two baskets. I decided then that physical labor was not for the likes of me and was thankful that this work life was temporary.

Positioning his ladder against the tree I was working beneath; I felt a spark of energy dance between Adam and me. I could not help but catch Adam looking at me pensively—as if he wanted to say something to break this weighty silence that had descended. I would have welcomed it, for I was a coward and could not look him in the eyes again and see the pain that I had caused. I paused in my task and waited, but Adam said nothing before he climbed to the top run.

Adam began picking apples with the practiced speed of someone who’d been doing this task for his whole life. I marveled at just how efficiently he worked. I stood, stretched out my back and I felt the burn of Adam watching me as I moved to pull the kinks out of my arms. I turned a little and dared to look at him. Our eyes met, and that hot pulse of attraction flooded through me like life’s blood. Gods, I had three-and-a-half days left at Blackdown, and I needed to get through it without causing any drama or allowing myself to become even fonder of a man I was destined to leave behind.

By the time Polly rang the luncheon bell we’d filled one-bushel bin and had begun on our second. Famished, bone-weary, and thirsty, I could not wait to sit down to eat fresh bread, cheese and whatever else Rosalie could spare.

I found a pleasant spot to sit in the autumn sun leaning against the barn wall watching chickens run loose, pecking and scratching the ground around the courtyard. In one hand I held a chunk of bread spread with golden butter, a thick slice of cheese topped with spicy apple chutney, in the other hand I held a cup of cider. I paused mid-chew when I saw Farmer Sewell marching through the courtyard with a murderous look in his eyes. He cared not where he stepped, making the chickens squawk in alarm and run back to their roost.

“Adam, get out here now, ye good-fer-nothin’!” He roared. I swallowed the bite of food in my mouth and fear made it lodged in my throat. I gulped down the last of my cider. I knew Adam had gone to clean up and change his shirt. I did not want the poor fellow to go through another beating. Nico stood by the farmhouse door with a wicked smirk on his face. His cruel eyes met mine, and then he moved off in the direction of his cottage. Had he told Farmer Sewell he’d seen me, and Adam emerge from the bathhouse that morn?

Col Sewell stood in the center of the dusty cobbled courtyard with his hands on his hips. He turned, and one by one, studied all the men sitting around eating their rations. As each man was eyed, he seemed to shrink back into himself. The power the farmer had over them was terrifying. I saw the harvesters near climbing the walls not to be seen. A man named Matty who was sitting to my left had curled his knees to his chest and was rocking like a fractious child, murmuring “I ain’t here, I ain’t here” in an unnerving mantra. Not one man would meet Farmer Sewell’s eye.

Then Sewell’s dark piggy eyes met mine, and I did not look away. He glared a challenge, and as he considered me his face turned mauve with anger. I blanched. For a big man, he was faster on his feet than I’d expected. In the blink of an eye, he’d run across the courtyard and hauled me violently up against the barn wall, his broad hand around my throat. My precious luncheon fell and scattered at my feet.

“Dirty bastardin’ thief. How dare ye steal from my house!” My eyes bulged as I looked at him.