Ashes by Ann Hunter

Author:Ann Hunter [Hunter, Ann]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Aisling House
Published: 2016-05-05T23:00:00+00:00

She took the cake outside with her and set it on top of the chicken coop as she fed the hens in the morning. The chicks were growing exceedingly well and becoming bolder and more confident about straying further from their mothers.

Rebecca reckoned next month she would have to sort them and ready others for market. She was becoming fond of two young broods, however. The plucky one that pestered all the others she had taken to calling Petunia. Then there was a smaller, sturdy, plumper one she had named Henrietta Bartleby. If Gregory Diggory could name a pig Gregory Diggory, then Rebecca could certainly name her hens after the neighbors, especially when they reminded her so much of them.

Just when Rebecca was settling into the cottage to take her evening meal, a knock fell on the door. She opened it to see Farmer Diggory again. He held his old straw hat in his hands and wheeled it between them. He nodded in the direction of his wagon. “Come.”

Rebecca dusted her hands off on her apron, for she had been working on dough for a loaf of bread so that it could rise over night. “Is everything all right, Mr. Diggory?”

“You are needed.”

“Will we be gone long?” she asked.

Farmer Diggory retreated toward his wagon. His old Belgian gelding, Hank, pawed the ground anxiously. When he saw she was still stuck in the door, Farmer Diggory called to Rebecca, “Come, now, Lady Tremaine. She’s calling for you.”

Rebecca, perplexed, doused the fire and grabbed a shawl from a hook near the door that she had knitted for her mother. Yet seeing she did not know when she would be with her again, she took it up and put it upon herself. She climbed in the cart with Farmer Diggory and looked at him. “What’s going on?”

Farmer Diggory flicked the reins and said nothing, save for the command of “Move up.” to his golden gelding.

Hank surged forward at a quick trot. It caught Rebecca off guard as she’d never seen him go faster than a steady plod. She fell back against the buckboard seat and grabbed a bar of iron to prevent her self from tipping completely over and out of the cart. The mid-spring evening air prickled against her cheeks and she pulled the shawl tighter about her. “Where are we going?” she asked.

Farmer Diggory merely bent his head in the direction of the city.

“But why?”

Farmer Diggory chewed on the vetch steadily. He glanced at Rebecca before flicking the reins again, encouraging Hank to pick up the pace. The blonde gelding broke into a canter. The great hunk of horse rocked back on his haunches just to get his front under him each stride. He leaned into the collar determinedly. The wagon rocked back and forth rhythmically over the dirt road.

When they crested the hill, Rebecca was shocked to see how much the pollution had spread from the city. Instead of being able to prepare for it from miles away, they were all of a sudden in it, ambushed by it.

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