Good Ground by Winegar Tracy

Author:Winegar, Tracy [Winegar, Tracy]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Omnific Publishing
Published: 2013-07-28T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

ELLIS WAS OUT IN THE FAR PASTURE for the day, clearing and fencing more acreage in his ambitious way. Shortly after lunch, he left with Katie the mule, the chains to pull logs with, and his ax. As Ellis worked in the field, Clairey stuck to the house, working at her own domestic tasks. The sky was overcast, threatening rain, and in the distance, thunder rumbled and groaned. It was still light enough that Clairey did not need a lamp as she worked to make a pie.

Once the pie was finished and baking in the oven, she went out to the chicken coop to gather some fresh eggs and feed her fowl. The hens were a pleasant sort on the whole, but the rooster was a temperamental thing. He did not like intruders in his yard taking eggs as they pleased. He would threaten her by approaching in a confrontational swagger, making noise and ruffling his feathers to intimidate. Clairey was accustomed to him by now and calmly disregarded him. If he was treated with indifference, he generally backed down.

As she left the chicken yard, she glanced up at the sky. Judging from the looks of it, she would not need to water her garden. If it didn’t rain today, it surely would by tomorrow. She checked on it anyhow, setting her bowl of eggs on the ground at the edge of her perfect rows. She began looking for signs of pests by crouching down on all fours, lifting leaves and peering at them closely for signs of anything that threatened to ruin their production come fall. While she was there, she took the time to weed, picking at any little stray green that popped up in the wrong place, making sure she got the roots and all. It was much easier to get them when they were of an insignificant size and before they grew to be a force to reckon with.

Clairey went back up to the house to check on her pie and take it from the oven. Before she mounted the steps, she noticed muddied boot prints upon the once clean porch. Ellis had not come back from the fields; she would have seen him.

She heard the scraping of the kitchen chair against the wood floors from inside the house. Someone was moving about within. A strange, inexplicable fear took root within her breast. Clairey knew. She stood just at the edge of the stairs with that knowledge turning her innards to pudding, desperate to not have to face him. But she couldn’t stand there forever, putting off what would inevitably come next. With a budding dread, she dragged her feet up the stairs, her hands gripping the rail to keep herself steady.

She paused outside the screen door, looking into the gloomy interior, again attempting to prolong the confrontation. Although she had expected it, she was startled nonetheless when she saw her father sitting at the table, making short work of her pie. She opened the door and stepped across the threshold and waited.

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