Softly Blows the Bugle by Jan Drexler

Author:Jan Drexler
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Amish Romance;Amish—­Fiction;Christian fiction;Love stories;FIC053000;FIC042040;FIC042030
ISBN: 9781493426638
Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
Published: 2020-09-25T00:00:00+00:00

Even though no work was done on Sunday, certain chores were necessary. Aaron had started doing the Sunday evening chores a few weeks ago to give Abraham a rest, and he found he enjoyed it. Taking over the Sunday evening responsibilities was little enough compared to what Jonas and his family had done for him.

He took the stool from its hook on the wall and placed the milk pail under the cow’s udder. She was an old cow and used to the morning and evening routine. She turned to look at him as he milked, strands of hay sticking out on each side of her mouth.

“You’re all right, Bossy, you know I’ll take good care of you.”

The milk pinged in the pail until he had milked enough to cover the bottom. Aaron leaned his head against the cow’s flank, taking in the comfortable fragrance of fresh milk and sweet hay. Even the odor of manure couldn’t overpower the pleasant aromas of the barn but settled underneath it like a rich foundation.

The barn cats had heard the sound of milking. One twined itself around his ankle while the others sat in a circle, watching him. They knew he would pour a little fresh milk into a pan for them when he was done, but a few sat up on their haunches, begging for an early taste. He aimed one of the teats in their direction and squeezed. The big gray cat was an expert and caught the entire stream in its mouth. The black-and-white one tried to bite at the milk and ended up covered with white drops. Aaron chuckled as it quickly cleaned its face before the drops disappeared.

He stopped in surprise. When was the last time he had laughed? The cow stomped a foot in protest, and he started the rhythmic milking again. He hadn’t felt this comfortable and settled since . . .

Aaron thought back. Not at all while he was in the army. Every day he had lived in anxious fear that death would strike without warning. That the next artillery shell or musket ball heading his way would be the last one he would ever hear—if he heard it at all. And during the long days between battles, he lived as the other soldiers did. Bitter, angry, and hungry. Cold in the winter and hot in the summer. Nothing brought joy, even though he had tried nearly every diversion available.

Even the weekly church services he attended failed to satisfy his longings. He had sat in the back, in the shadowy edges, watching the preacher’s face lit by a half-dozen campfires circling him. He had gone for the music. The hymns the men had sung reminded him of home. The home he had known before Ma died.

Closing his eyes, Aaron let his cheek rest against the soft flank as if it were Ma’s bosom. If he listened closely, he could hear her singing to him. But when he opened his eyes again, it was still all gone. Destroyed.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.