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Reap (The Harvest Saga Book 1)

Page 4

by Casey L. Bond

“You will have no choice. Nor will your aunt. So, get used to the idea. I have plans for you.” Smiling and with that warning left hanging heavy in the air between us, he let go of me, stood and stalked away.

  What just happened?

  I’D BEEN AVOIDING KYAN. I hated the thought of feeling awkward around him, but after the intimacy we shared, wasn’t sure it could be avoided. He was getting married, and I didn’t want him to go into his marriage with any doubts at all, especially about me. I wanted him to be happy. He has to marry Paige. He needed to accept that fact. He needed to accept her, and once they were married, he would have to forget about me and about our friendship, which would be virtually nonexistent.

  I hadn’t told him about Zander and his threat of marriage. And that’s exactly what I considered it: a threat. I wanted nothing to do with him. Especially in the way a woman should want her husband. Never going to happen.

  Another week had passed. My back was almost completely healed. I had ugly raised pink scars of tender flesh crisscrossing my back. Most of the time now, I could forget about them altogether. The harvest had begun without me. But, there would be plenty of work for me, for everyone, for many more weeks to come. It took our entire village several weeks to pluck all of the ripe apples from the trees.

  They would be packed into crates and bushel baskets, driven by truck to the train tracks that rested a few miles away. Old trucks rumbled back and forth, to and from the depot all day and long into the night. Train horns sound loudly as they stop only long enough to receive their loads and then again as they pulled away toward the Greater cities.

  There were five cities in all. Each was situated along the coast lines. Five cities spread out like fingers from the palm where we resided—one in the far northeast, southeast, northwest, southwest, and south center of the country; the bottom of the world as far as I knew. They said that the glass and metal of their boxy structures stretched as tall as the clouds, as far as the eye could see. I’d heard that some were so high, they would block out the sun completely, blanketing the earth below in perpetual shadow.

  There were factories and stores for shopping. Sometimes the trains brought shipments to the village. Sometimes we received shoes, clothes, blankets, and vehicles. We also received shipments of food that we couldn’t grow here, from other villages nestled in the heart of the land, from other Lessers, like us.

  It was said that every child in the Greater cities received an education. Lessers did not. We were taught to read and write, to add and subtract. Taught the only skills necessary to properly account for the food we produced and provided the Greaters. And, we were taught to be meticulous record keepers, because as our bodies aged, we would relinquish the work of the fields to account for the crop.

  Beyond the basic instruction, there was little room for further education. Even the days of children were filled with work. Our importance lay in the hard work we could provide our community. Pride in our efforts was established early, and rewarded. Laziness was punished. No excuses were allowed or accepted, and we learned quickly and early not to bother making them.

  Sunday was our only day of rest, if you could call it that. In reality, it was our one day to tend to our own houses and crops. We still worked from dawn until dusk. The dawn this morning was angry and bruised purple and red. Lulu was on the front porch scrubbing the planks. I went to get fresh water from the stream that was about a quarter of a mile from our house. Some people were fortunate enough to have wells on their property, but the Kelley property was dry as a bone.

  The bucket handle bit into my fingers and seemed to get heavier with each step, even though water sloshed out with each one, actually lightening the load. I’d switched hands a dozen times on my trip back. It’s a trip made so often, I could make it in the dark. As I rounded the house and Lulu looked up at me and smiled, blowing some of the hair from her face. I hoisted the heavy wooden bucket up onto the porch and smiled back at her.

  “Lulu, has anyone asked for my hand?” Best to cut right to the chase. She dropped her brush in the water and looked up at me from her hazel eyes. I’d imagine the inner roots of a strong deciduous tree to look this color, brown crusty outside, but vibrant green within, guardians of hidden secrets and a lifetime of wisdom. She was really quite young, or her personality made her seem so. Though older than her brother, my father, she was only forty-two. She sighed and the smile eased slowly from her face. The parentheses around her lips sank a bit deeper, along with the creases in her forehead.

  “Well. I had an interesting conversation with a certain Councilman, but it seems as if you were expecting that. I thought you hated Zander.”

  “I do.”

  Confusion further knotted her brows together until one lifted higher than the other. “Then why on earth would he ask to marry you?”

  “I have no idea, but I think he’s up to something and I don’t like it.”

  “Why do you think he’s up to something?”

  “He’s a snake in the grass.”

  She laughed lightly. “My dear, he may be a snake in the grass, but snakes are not born blind. Snakes can see quite clearly.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean, Lulu?” She laughed wholeheartedly, the skin in the corners of her eyes radiated outward happily.

  “You’ve turned out to be quite a beauty. You’ve blossomed.” My cheeks were on fire. Lulu never talked about the way that I looked. In fact, she often spoke against vanity, beauty.

  “Abby. It’s true. You have turned into a woman—a beautiful one. And sometimes, beauty is coveted by others. Perhaps, Zander feels that with you on his arm, he’ll be more, somehow— made greater than his current station with you by his side.”

  “We are Lessers, Lu. He needs to accept it. And, I am no one’s arm candy.”

  Lulu’s eyes lit up and she burst into laughter. “No, baby girl. You’re beautiful, but you’re fierce. And, I cannot imagine that you would be happy as anyone’s ‘arm candy.’ Above all things, I wish for you to be happy. I’ll not consent to the pairing.”

  I exhaled deeply and felt the tension ease from my shoulders. “Thank you, Lulu.”

  “Don’t look so relieved, child. I didn’t say you’d marry for love, although that’s what I’d give you if you could. But, I’ll not force the likes of Zander Preston upon you.”

  I smiled lightly. Love. No one married for love. But if I were to marry Zander, my heart would be filled with such hatred that love would certainly never have a chance to blossom. If I were to be paired with someone more mild mannered, and well, normal, maybe love could grow in time. At the very least, there would be respect. And, I supposed I could live with that. Or learn to, anyway.

  Lulu started scrubbing the muddy planks again. I took my own brush and start scrubbing opposite her so that we would meet in the middle. “No. I suppose if I wanted you to marry for love, I would have pushed to have you marry Kyan.”

  “What?”

  She grinned up at me. “Kyan. That boy has loved you from the moment he laid eyes on you. He certainly doesn’t love Paige. That girl’s voice is enough to drive even a bobcat mad. Like metal on metal, I swear.”

  I giggled. She was right. Her voice was incredibly shrilly and very annoying. Poor Kyan. He would have to listen to her voice for the rest of his life. I did not envy him. But, would I want to marry Kyan? It wasn’t an option. Not at all, now that the pairing has been made and announced. He was my best friend and we would get along. We would have fun. Could we be happy as man and wife? I didn’t know. It wasn’t so bad to have him stroke my back. It was strange and thrilling at the same time, but I wasn’t not sure if it was because it was Kyan or because no one had ever touched me so intimately before.

  “Kyan doesn’t love me. I know he doesn’t love Paige, but maybe he will one day. I want him to be happy. He’s my best friend, but he’ll never be more, even if he would want to be.”

  It was as plain and simple as that. Lulu just nodded and continued with her work. She knew I was righ
t. It didn’t matter now and wasn’t worth discussing any further. Dwelling on it wouldn’t help. Neither will worry. And I was almost as worried about Kyan’s marriage to Paige as I was about the lingering feeling that I hadn’t heard the end of the Zander Preston proposal.

  MONDAY MORNING, LULU SHOOK ME awake. I was a mess. I was exhausted, but I’d always slept like the dead. On mornings that I was particularly difficult to wake, she even put a cold, wet towel on my face to rouse me. I hated that. So much. I dragged myself out of bed and wipe a cold rag over my face. It was different when I did it myself.

  I pulled on my nearly worn-out jeans. A ragged hole revealed the skin my left kneecap and another, a portion of the skin on my right thigh. The cuffs were tattered and pieces of fabric and thread tickled the skin on the top of my feet and trailed behind my heels. I pulled on a hunter green V-neck tee, a pair of clean socks, and my dusty, trusty tennis shoes.

  Running out of my room, I weaved my long wavy hair into a braid and tied it with a small red and white gingham fabric scrap. Lulu met me just before I reached the front door and finished tying it off for me. “Head to the main hall. You need to be back in the orchards, but Councilman Preston has to release you.”

  I pulled back from her. “Why? I’m fine.”

  “I know that, but it’s just how it is. You’re his charge and only he can release you to work the orchard.”

  “Great,” I muttered.

  “He’ll send you back. They need help. They’re so desperate they’ve requested reinforcements.”

  “Reinforcements?”

  “From other villages. They’ve asked for help from those who aren’t preparing their own harvests right now, or whose harvests have already taken place. The able from at least three other villages should join us in the next day or so. The Greaters have approved of their assistance and are moving the workers by train.”

  “Wow. I don’t remember that ever happening.”

  She laughed. “That’s because it hasn’t. We’ve always been able to shoulder the load. But, the trees have produced more this year than they ever have before. There’s quite the bounty and more than we can handle without help. Else, the apples will spoil on the trees, or on the ground. The Greaters aren’t about to let that happen. You know how they feel about waste.”

  Lulu’s eyes sparkled when she smiled. It was amazing how just looking in the eyes of someone you love could take you home. Made you feel comfort and love unimaginable anywhere else. I hugged her tight and kissed her temple before trudging to battle. I wasn’t sure why I felt like I was marching into one, but I did.

  Cutting through the woods toward the center of town, and the main hall, I crossed paths with none other than Paige Winters and her best friend, Dawn. I nodded in an attempt to avoid speaking with them, but of course, Paige would have none of that. “Well, if it isn’t Miss Martyr.”

  “Excuse me?” She wanted to rile me up. Congratulations, Paige. She’d just succeeded.

  I whipped around. Her long pin-straight black hair shone in the early morning sun. Paige’s nose turned up on the end slightly, but she emphasized the feature by keeping her nose pointed to the sky. She was much like Mrs. Preston, always looking down on everyone else. Especially me, because of my proximity to her fiancé. She huffed and put one hand on her hip, rolling her eyes. I wanted to scratch them out. If only I didn’t bite my nails. Claws would come in handy in this kind of cat fight.

  “You heard me. Miss Martyr. Had to step in and save the day.”

  “I did no such thing. But, call me what you want. You wouldn’t have stepped up for that little girl.” She made no attempt to deny it.

  “Nope.” She popped her ‘P.’ “There’s no way any man would want a woman with a mangled back. Especially Kyan. He wouldn’t want something tainted and ugly. Something scarred.”

  I really should have bitten my tongue. I knew it, but I couldn’t help what came out of my mouth next. “Well, when he rubbed his fingers across the parts that weren’t ripped open the other night, he certainly didn’t complain.”

  She stiffened and nearly growled at me. “You’re lying. He would never lay a finger on a piece trash like you.”

  I just smirked. Kyan was going to kill me. “Well, maybe you should just ask him about it then. Maybe he likes martyrs better than stuck-up bitches.” And, with that, I turned on my heel making my way toward the main hall once more. The shocked expression on her face was enough to put more than a little pep in my step.

  Dawn’s dirty blonde hair whipped around as I passed them by, her mouth gaped open. Had no one ever stood up to them? Good grief. Paige Winters should marry Zander Preston. It would be a match made in wannabe Greater heaven.

  ∞

  AS WAS CUSTOMARY, I WAITED on the porch of the main hall until beckoned by Mary, the woman who really ran the place. I followed her inside the old building. It was the only one in the village constructed mostly of stone, highlighted only with accents of wood.

  All resident dwellings were entirely made of wood, our most abundant resource. Those closest to the density of the forest were often ravaged by woodpeckers and termites. A few were so thoroughly consumed, that only the remnants of their thickest structural pieces remained. Skeletal reminders of the harshness and determination of even the tiniest predators.

  Mary limped ahead of me. Her left leg was her strongest, and she pushed off of it in order propel herself forward. Her right was no help at all, but seemed rather to serve as a crutch. She was broad in the hip, but had shrunken shorter and shorter over the past few years. At one point, her eyes had been level with mine, but now were several inches below. A high bun crowned her head, thin white hair stretched backwards toward the whirlpool of white. Deep lines sunk into her forehead and parenthesed her mouth.

  Her eyes were green-gray and she smiled with them even more so than with her thin lips, which from which delicate lines radiated as well. I followed to the last door on the left. My fingertips grazed the cold, gritty stone wall beside me. She knocked.

  “Yes?” A gruff voice called out.

  She opened the door slightly and stuck her head in. “Councilman Preston, Miss Abigail Kelley is here to see you.”

  “Send her in.”

  She swept her hand forward. My legs felt like the wall. Heavy stones. Hard to lift. I propelled myself forward, passing Mary and stepped into one of the largest open spaces I’ve ever seen. The walls were made of stacked stones, like the rest of the structure, but the ceiling was so tall, outlined with enormous beams of stained dark wood. Iron sconces were evenly spaced around the walls, a pristine, white candle in each, just begged to be lit.

  Two windows were spaced perfectly apart on the wall to my left. Two more were behind Councilman Preston’s desk. With all the light behind him, his face remained in shadow. Sitting silently, his fingers tented together in front of him. I moved forward slowly, taking in the grandeur, before settling into one of the wooden chairs in front of his desk.

  Even his desk was enormous and was stained the same dark color as the beams that loomed overhead. I swallowed nervously and clasped my hands together in my lap. Dust motes floated and flew whimsically in the early morning sunlight beaming its way into the room through the windows.

  Mr. Preston cleared his throat. His once-blonde hair was peppered with gray and white and had begun thinning on top. “You wanted to see me, Abigail?”

  “Yes, Sir.” I filled my voice with a confidence mocked by my quaking knees. “I’d like to return to the orchards for the harvest.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Your back?”

  “Mostly healed now, Sir.”

  He shifted in his seat, intertwining his fingers. I couldn’t see his eyes because of the lighting, but could feel his appraisal. “Abby, I know you’re anxious to help with the harvest, but you must heal. If you aren’t healed properly, you could be a danger to those around you. If you were to falter, and others had to take care of you, it would take others away from their work. Do you understand?


  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Let’s compromise. You may work for two hours in the orchards during the morning tomorrow, and then will report to my home to complete your chores for the remainder of the day. If you handle that well for a few days, we will increase your time in the orchards, and decrease your work as our servant. Is that acceptable to you?”

  I beamed a smile. “Yes, Sir. Thank you. It’s more than fair.”

  He sat back and his high cheekbones pulled up. I couldn’t tell with the lighting, but I thought he was smiling. “I would like to discuss another matter with you, Abigail.”

  I sat back in the chair. “Okay.”

  “My son has informed me of his intention to marry you. Are you aware of this?”

  “He mentioned it one day, Sir. But, I wasn’t sure that he was serious. He and I have never...seen eye to eye.” I swallowed.

  “Rest assured that his affections for you are both present and strong. I spoke with your Aunt about the pairing, but she was reluctant to agree. It seems that she is aware that the two of you have not, as you put it, ‘seen eye to eye,’ and so she will not approve of the match.”

  I was not really sure how to respond. I wished that I could be honest and tell him that I hated his son and that Zander would be the last man on this Earth I could be persuaded to marry. I wanted to squeeze Aunt Lulu for having declined his offer, for standing up to the Preston’s when anyone else in this village would have cowered and bowed to their request.

  “Abigail, I intend to speak with Lulu again. Zander was devastated with the news that she had denied him your hand. What say you on the matter?”

  His eyes, though shaded bore into me. “Would you appreciate an honest answer, Sir?”

  “Yes.”

  “I do not wish to marry Zander.”

  “I see.” He inhaled deeply and then sighed. “Is it the boy you’re always with? Kyan?”

  “No. Kyan is to marry Paige Winters at the harvest festival.”

 

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