CLOCKWISE (book one in the Clockwise series) by Strauss Elle

Author:Strauss, Elle [Strauss, Elle]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: ESB Publishing
Published: 2011-10-16T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

OVER A WEEK HAD GONE BY. Shadows and lines of fatigue drew heavily on Nate’s expression. He worked the farm with Willie and that awful Cobbs, and I knew it wasn’t fun. It was cold hard labor, but I had to give him credit. He rose to the challenge. He said if I could take it, meaning life in the nineteenth century, then he could, too. The farm chores didn’t stop just because it was winter. Cows didn’t take time off of milking for the holidays. The house, obviously, lacked central heating; a good deal of energy was spent on keeping all the fireplaces lit.

I was in the kitchen stirring the massive pot of oatmeal when the door opened, flooding the heated room with a cold blast of air. Nate's head popped through, then Samuel's.

“Look who I found in the yard,” Nate said with a smile. He slammed the door shut against the frigid draft.

“Samuel!” I felt like giving him a big hug, but held back. He removed his cap and nodded at me.

“Miss Cassandra.” There was an uncomfortable moment, especially since the last time we had seen Samuel, he had been beaten up. Thankfully, Sara entered the kitchen and cut in.

“Samuel,” Sara said after greeting him, “you're shivering. Come stand by the stove.” Then she ordered her sister Josephine to add an extra plate to the table. Cobbs arrived shortly afterward and his greeting, as usual, was anything but warm. Any tension his presence might have caused was drowned out by the buzz of children's voices and Mrs. Watson's shrill attempt to calm them down.

Nate leaned in towards Samuel. “So, what’ve you been up to?” Samuel took a sip of coffee. “This and that. Just trying to find work and keep warm.”

“Did you find your brother? Jonah?” I asked hopefully.

He shook his head. “Still can’t find the youngster.”

Cobbs fidgeted more than usual, his eyes darting to Samuel. The deep grimace on his face irked me. He didn’t even try to hide his prejudice. He excused himself abruptly the moment his bowl had been licked clean. We all ignored his rudeness.

“Did you sleep in the loft last night?” Nate asked. I'd wondered the same thing.

“It’s better for someone like me to keep moving around.”

We nodded. Cobbs could cause him trouble. Plus there was that little problem of the Fugitive Act.

“Well, we're glad to have extra hands today,” Sara added. “Willie had to leave early this morning for Worcester. I'm sure Nate will be happy to have your help today.” After the guys left, I helped Sara clean up. Mrs. Watson buzzed around with little Daniel strapped to her chest, instructing the maid, Missy, who had just arrived, and me on which chores to attend to and when. Sara had the younger kids in the study, for school lessons.

“Why don’t the kids go to school?” I asked Missy when Mrs. Watson had left the room.

“Too cold.” Missy said with a sharp accent. “Too far for the young’uns to walk. ‘Sides, Miz Sara is a far better teacher than that old oaf they hired.

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