Everett grabbed a pitchfork and started working beside Nicholas. “Sorry I’m late.”
“After the amount of work you put into the party last night, I figured you’d sleep until noon.” Nicholas’ thick sideburns puffed as he grinned. “Besides, you own the place—you don’t have to apologize.”
“You’ve already done a full day’s work. Thank you.”
Nicholas kept spreading hay. “It frosted last night, but I don’t trust the clear sky. I think a storm is coming and James agrees. He’s got the flock ready to come inside.”
“Good. My father would have appreciated you both.” Everett scooped the last of the grass hay from the wheelbarrow and propped his pitchfork against the wall. “Is Mercer here yet?”
“Not yet.” Nicholas wheeled the empty barrow toward the back of the barn. “He arrives later each day and then complains the whole time he’s here.”
Everett picked up his pitchfork and followed. “I’ll speak to him about his tardiness when he arrives—whenever that might be.”
As Nicholas opened the back door, his words were buried in the sound of the bleating sheep. The happiness that arose from Everett’s every thought of Bethany was quickly choked by his frustration with Mercer. While Nicholas and James let the sheep inside the building, Everett stood back against the wall. The herding dogs rounded the sheep, forcing them through the barn door. This farm and this flock were his inheritance. He planned to live here in peace and one day make Bethany his wife. So if Mercer wanted to keep his job, he was going to have to change his ways.
* * *
Bethany crouched beside an open-slat shipping crate as she wrapped the last bowl with packing paper. She laid it inside the crate then stood and looked around the pottery yard. All of the orders had been filled, and the tools and supplies had been cleaned and packed into the shed for the winter.
Mrs. Vestal closed the shed doors and secured the latch then lumbered toward Bethany. “The trader said he would be here by noon to pick that up. You can go on home, I’ll wait.”
Bethany watched Mrs. Vestal grimace and rub her lower back. She hated to see her mentor in pain, but like many of the older folks, Mrs. Vestal refused the gray leaf. Bethany shook her head. “No, I’m happy to wait here. You should go home and rest your back.”
“You’re a sweet girl, Bethany. And the best apprentice I ever had—you more than worked for your training.” Though the air was cold, Mrs. Vestal drew a stained handkerchief from her pocket and dabbed her forehead. “I don’t have the pep I used to, and I’ve got no one to pass the pottery to when the Lord takes me home. You’ve finished your three years with me. If you want to make a life of it, I’ll pass this place on to you one day soon.”
The thought of owning the pottery yard thrilled Bethany, but it was unheard of to pass a family inheritance to a nonrelative. She walked close to Mrs. Vestal. “I plan to spend my life as a potter, but don’t you want to keep the pottery yard in your family?”
Mrs. Vestal shrugged. “Nicholas loves sheep farming and is working with Everett to get his own flock. And my niece and her husband just had a baby; they have no interest in coming to Good Springs. You’re the closest thing I have to a daughter, and you are the best potter we’ve had in the Land during my lifetime.”
Mrs. Vestal’s approbation filled Bethany with pride, though she sensed her mentor’s sadness. Her eyes blurred with tears as she bent to hug Mrs. Vestal. “Thank you.”
Mrs. Vestal’s chin quivered as she nodded. “You work here with me until I can’t do it anymore, and it’s yours. I’ll settle the matter with the elders.” She cleared her throat and pointed to the shipping crate. “The trader will be here by noon. Latch the gate when you leave.”
As Mrs. Vestal left, Bethany stepped into the pottery shelter and leaned against the support post. She looked around the pottery yard again, but this time with a sense of ownership. She expected that completing the three-year apprenticeship would solidify her as a professional potter and make her craftsmanship recognized throughout the Land, but she had not expected to be made the heir of the business. Bethany leaned her head back against the post and grinned up at the clear sky.
“What’s got you smiling today, beautiful?”
Bethany flinched and snapped her head toward the familiar voice. “Justin!”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” Justin stepped under the shelter and slid his thumbs into his belt loops.
She chuckled at herself and moved away from the post. “You didn’t. Well, you did, but it’s my own fault for daydreaming.”
Justin grinned and leaned against the post. “It must’ve been a good one—you looked happy.”
“I am happy.” She sighed as she untied the strings of her work apron. “Today was the last day of my apprenticeship.”
“Congratulations. So now you’re what… master potter?”
“No,” Bethany giggled. “Now I’m recognized as a craftsman in the Land and I can work for my own trade.”
Justin cast his gaze across the pottery yard and his grin faded. “But trade for what? I don’t get it. You all work so hard for nothing.”
“What do you mean? We work for our livelihood and we work because every person has something to give. Everyone has a purpose in a community.”
She felt his emptiness and his words matched his emotions. She took a step closer to him. “You will have a purpose here. Everett has given you work for now, and I’m sure once you’ve been here for a while you will find your place in the village. Connor did chores for my father for months before Father realized he would make an excellent schoolteacher. And I wouldn’t have learned anything during my last two years of school if it weren’t for Connor’s instruction. Just give it time—you will find your place.”
“You’re the only person who seems to think so.” Justin pulled his thumbs out of his belt loops. “I just quit the job at Everett’s farm.”
“Quit? Why?”
“I hated it. The sheep are loud, the whole place stinks, and your boyfriend is a jerk.” He held up a hand. “No offense to you—he’s just constantly on my case. He acts like I’m an idiot. I was a naval flight officer. Do you know how hard the training is for that position? I have a degree in aerospace engineering. I don’t need to get lectured by a sheep farmer about work ethic. The guy is just a twerp.”
Though she sensed Justin truly felt mistreated, she disagreed with his assessment of Everett. She wadded her apron into a ball. “I think it was charitable of Everett to give you work. He is a patient, hard-working man. I’ve known him my whole life and he has always been decent and shown restraint. He is the most kind and humble man I know.”
Justin crossed his arms. “It sounds like you’re in love with him.”
“I am. We are courting.” Bethany looked Justin in the eye. “But that’s not why I said those things about him—”
“I must admit I’m disappointed,” he interrupted.
“In me?”
“No, not in you. You are just doing what’s expected of you. I’m disappointed because I feel like I’m losing my only friend here.”
Justin’s words dejected Bethany. She touched his arm. “No, I’m still your friend.”
“Really? Do you think he wants you hanging out with me?” Justin snickered. “Your dad and brother and even Connor have been keeping me away from you. And now that you are dating Everett, they’ll probably punish you for even speaking to me.”
The grain of truth in Justin’s statement made Bethany feel uneasy. The men in her life had made her feel guilty for her desire to befriend Justin. She drew her hand away. “It’s not like that. They don’t punish me. My father is the overseer of our village and it is important to him that his daughters behave properly. And my brother has always been protective, but there is nothing wrong with that.”
“Fine. But why does Connor have authority over you?”
“He was my teacher.”
“He’s not anymore.”
“I d
on’t know.” Bethany looked at her fingernails as she thought for a moment. “Connor is a natural leader and he will probably train to be the village overseer one day.”
Justin shook his head. “They all control you. All the men in your life control you. Don’t you see how the women here act subservient to men?”
“That’s not true. Men and women are different, but we know we are equal.”
“Not from what I’ve seen here.”
“Take Lydia for example: she was our village’s first female physician. No one cared that she took on a position that only men had previously held. She trained and was qualified and devoted to the health of the village. That was all that mattered.”
Justin shrugged. “But she still has to answer to a council of male elders. Why aren’t there any female elders?”
“I don’t know.”
“And why not have a female overseer?”
“The position has always been passed down to the overseer’s son.”
“Then how could Connor one day become overseer? He isn’t even from here.”
“I don’t know. Things are starting to change.”
Justin pointed a finger at the chapel across the street. “It’s because the men control the women here. They might make you think you have a choice, but you really don’t. You don’t have a vote on the council or a choice of your profession or a even say in who you can be friends with.”
“That’s not true. I chose my profession, as did Lydia and Mandy. And any woman here who spends her life making a home and helping her husband has chosen to do so. If a woman demonstrated the leadership qualities it takes to be an elder and had the desire to be on the council, being female would not keep her from it. I wouldn’t want that position, nor would any woman I know, but that doesn’t make women subservient to men.”
“I think this whole society is a patriarchy. You’re an adult, but you still obey your father’s demands.”
“I am under his authority because I live in his home. That’s just part of our tradition. I don’t like all of the traditions, but I love Everett, and if we marry I will respect his leadership in our home. That doesn’t mean I have to answer to every man in the village simply because he is a man. Most men here don’t have the qualities my father and the elders have. Father and Connor and Everett deserve my respect, but I can be friends with whomever I choose.”
“You really are naïve.” Justin blew out a breath and stared into the distance. When he looked back at her, one edge of his mouth curved into a smile. “Besides, a man and a woman who’ve been attracted to each other don’t choose to be friends—they settle for being friends.”
Bethany wondered if she should be offended, but only sensed his frustration. She put her hands on her hips and grinned. “Fine, then I choose whom I settle to be friends with.” When Justin chuckled at her, she reached her hand to the post that he was leaning against. She picked a flake of old paint from the side of the wooden post and wondered why she no longer sensed the duality in him that had once puzzled her. “You’ve dropped your pretense with me. I like it, but why now?”
“Like I said—you are my only friend here.” Justin pushed away from the post. “I don’t like it when my friends are treated badly.”
She held up a finger. “Now you are the male who is being protective.”
“The difference is: I may disagree with your opinion, but I won’t try to take it from you.” Justin winked and walked away.
Bethany followed Justin to the gate, but they did not say goodbye. She watched him leave. His head was down while he crossed the cobblestone street. She felt sorry for him. His figure decreased from her perspective as he passed the chapel and trudged up the incline beside the graveyard toward his borrowed cabin. He was right in that he had no place in the community. She felt his loneliness and was saddened that he had no family or purpose in the Land, but she was determined to be his friend.
* * *
After Everett moved the flock into the barn, he left Nicholas to feed the other animals and marched down the road toward the Colburn property. His admonition to Mercer had led to a hostile argument and ended in Mercer quitting the job. He was glad to have Mercer off his farm, but he could not get him out of his mind.
As Everett left the gravel road and cut across the yard to the Colburns’ barn, he increased his pace in anticipation of the pleasurable release of sparring. The brutal form of athleticism Connor had brought to the Land—and secretly taught Levi and Everett—proved to be a valuable skill when they once fought to protect their village. But that was over a year ago, and with a baby for Connor and marriage for Levi, the men had fallen out of practice. Everett longed to return to the sport—both for its physical release and to stay prepared should he ever need to use the art again.
The barn door was ajar, so Everett slipped inside and pulled it shut. Levi was leaning against a stall gate, winding a spool of the copper wire that Connor had salvaged from space debris long ago. Connor was inside the stall bent over a green metal box. Everett flipped his hair off his forehead as he walked toward Levi. “Mandy said you would be here.”
Levi wound the last length of wire. “What’s wrong?”
“It has been too long since we’ve sparred, that’s what’s wrong.”
Connor popped a knob off the top of the radio transmitter and began to wipe it with a rag. “You have only been dating Bethany one day and she’s got you ready to throw, huh?”
Levi chuckled. “You better get used to it—she’s not going to want to get married for a long time.”
Connor laughed, too, but Everett did not. He shook his head. “It has nothing to do with her. The thought of her is the only thing that’s kept me calm today. I wanted to snap his head off.”
“Who? Mercer?” Connor asked as he pushed the knob back into place on the radio.
“Of course Mercer.”
Connor nodded and dropped his rag atop the transmitter then walked out of the stall and toward the front of the barn. As he moved a cart out of the open area and pushed it to the back of the barn, Levi opened a wooden trunk and pulled out two pairs of leather sparring gloves. Everett took off his coat and began rolling up his sleeves. He turned back to the hay-strewn open space of the shadowy barn and looked at the two men he trusted most. They were ready to fight. Everett grinned and stretched his neck to either side. “Just like old times.”
Connor raised a palm. “Everett, you seem really ticked. Are you sure you want to spar right now? If you lose focus, you’re going to get hurt.”
Levi tossed one pair of gloves to Everett and the other to Connor. “Less talk, more action.”
Everett pulled on the homemade sparring gloves he used to wear weekly when Connor first trained him to fight. His pulse increased as he stepped forward and they tapped gloves.
* * *
After the trader picked up the shipment, Bethany walked out of the pottery yard for the last time as an apprentice. She carefully secured the latch but held onto the gate as she remembered when she first visited the pottery yard with her class. During Mrs. Vestal’s demonstration, Bethany’s interest had grown with every movement of the clay. By the end of the visit, she surprised Mrs. Vestal with an exuberant request to apprentice. When Bethany told her father, he gave a lecture on responsibility and—though skeptical of her dedication to three years of work, which overlapped with her required schooling—he permitted it. That was three years ago. Now her apprenticeship was complete.
She let go of the gate and walked away from the pottery yard, alone and cold on a clear afternoon. There was neither a ceremony for her efforts like Lydia received when she became a doctor, nor a great struggle for independence like Levi went through when he shirked tradition and chose a profession that differed from his father’s. Bethany simply latched a gate and walked away, her only congratulations thus far from a man she had been told to avoid.
As Bethany passed the path that led through a swath of forest to the beach, she raised her collar to shield her n
eck from the cold wind. She glanced back at the path and thought of when she first met Justin. He had staggered down that path and into her life. Now she and Everett were courting and Justin was lonely and purposeless in the Land. Bethany heard her father’s voice calling her name. She looked back at the path as John jogged out of the forest. His wind-torn hair and wide eyes made him look frightened, though Bethany doubted anything could startle her father.
She walked back to the path and smiled at him. “Don’t you look worrisome?”
“Bethany, get Connor. Quickly!” John panted between words. “There is a ship on the horizon. Go find Connor!”
“What do you mean?”
“There was no school today, so he is probably at home. Tell him to get the telescope and meet me at the cairn on the shore. Then go get Justin Mercer and tell him to meet us there too.”
“Is it Mercer’s ship?”
“I am not sure.” John pointed toward home. “Go now!”
While her father disappeared back into the forest toward the shore, Bethany lifted the front of her skirt and ran to the house. She was out of breath and her legs burned as she opened the back door and hurried into the kitchen. Lydia was standing near the sink, rinsing a freshly plucked chicken.
“Where’s Connor?” Bethany huffed.
“In the barn, last I knew. What’s wrong?”
Bethany ran out of the kitchen without closing the door or answering Lydia. Her skirt swished as she hurried through the grass. She reached the barn and threw the door open. Levi was standing inside with his back to the door. As she stepped into the darkened barn she saw Connor punch Everett in the face. She gasped as Everett’s head snapped back. Blood spurted from his nose and he fell to the ground. Levi moved quickly into Bethany’s line of sight. He grabbed her by the arms and pushed her outside. Before she could see anything else, Levi kicked the door closed behind him.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded.
“Father sent me. What is Connor doing? Is Everett all right?”
Uncharted Inheritance (The Uncharted Series Book 3) Page 14