Something From Nothing by Gail Hamilton

Author:Gail Hamilton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: hamilton, wind at my back, gail hamilton
Publisher: Davenport Press

Chapter Eight

Soon enough, Hub found himself back on the Thompson farm. The seemingly endless job of bringing in the hay was still keeping the farmhands busy. Though Harry remained as uncommunicative as ever, Hub was able to keep up with him quite a bit better than before, and now that he knew something of the man’s sad past, he was willing to respect his need for silence.

Each time the wagons were full, they set out in a procession for the barns, where the men then had to go through the tricky process of unloading them and getting the hay up into the haylofts. Cap was just driving his load up to the barn while Hub and Harry waited just behind with a wagon stacked high above the racks. Hub had got down and was leaning against the wagon1 restless and impatient. He tossed a pebble.

“Let’s move it along, Cap,” Hub called. “You’re holding up the line!”

Cap didn’t particularly like being prodded by such a greenhorn. He grirmed and jerked his head towards Harry, who was patiently holding the reins. “What’s the matter, Hub? Still can’t manage a team of your own?”

Hub flushed and flung another pebble, hard this time. He felt he had worked hard and learned a lot. He was at an age when a boy is striving to find out how to be a man. He hated to be regarded as awkward and inexperienced among this crew of seasoned hands.

As Cap’s wagon creaked into the barn, Hub drifted up to watch the proceedings. The barn had huge double doors on each side that opened onto a wide central corridor through which a team and wagon could be driven. The hooves of their horses, big as dinner plates, clattered on the planking. Hub was enveloped in the scent of fresh hay and a pleasant dimness that took his eyes a moment to adjust to after the brilliant sunshine outside.

The barn had been built by Wick Thompson’s grandfather, and the marks of his adze were clearly visible on the hand-squared beams of its frame. The roof seemed to rise up enormously above Hub’s head. And almost to that roof, the great loft on each side was filling up with hay. Sunlight sliding between the barn boards striped everyone and everything with thin bars of yellow. The air was so thick with swirling flecks of hay dust stirred up by the activity in the barn that the bars of light appeared almost solid.

High above, a pulley ran along a sturdy metal track bolted inside the peak of the barn roof. A long rope ran over the pulley and down to the hay fork. The hay fork sported two long arms that sank into the hay on the wagon. At the tips of the arms, small prongs sprang out, securing the hay as it was lifted up and dropped into the loft. Wick stood atop the hay wagon, guiding the hay fork deep into the load and making it secure.

“Okay, Marion,” he called out when he was satisfied the section was ready to lift.

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