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Authors: Elizabeth Camden
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farmhouse, where Evelyn will stay until Christmas. I suppose I could default on my promise if you’d like to drive her instead.”
“Oh, twist my arm,” Clyde said with relish. He’d had plenty of time with Evelyn over the summer, but Romulus had usually been just a few yards away.
As much as he mourned the end of this magical summer, it was time to start courting Evelyn in earnest.
Clyde borrowed a set of civilian clothes from Smitty. If the sight of a cadet’s uniform kept Evelyn at arm’s length, he wouldn’t wear one. Smitty’s clothes were humble, but at least they didn’t have patches on the knees.
Smitty had immediately suspected the reason Clyde wanted to borrow the clothes. “Be sure to go into that fancy washroom you installed for me and give yourself a nice clean shave before you go call on that girl . . . the general’s daughter.”
“I’m not calling on her. I’m just helping her move to her aunt’s house.” Was his infatuation for Evelyn so obvious? But he was grateful for the advice, because it hadn’t occurred to him to shave again.
He was also grateful Romulus had carried through on his promise to become unavailable to drive Evelyn. Today would mark the end of the best summer of his life, but perhaps it would be a turning point into something better between him and Evelyn. He’d also taken Romulus’s advice about a gift. It was a modest present, but still one he couldn’t afford and had bartered with a day of labor at the curio shop in exchange for the gift. He’d carefully wrapped it in tissue paper and set it in a wooden box at the back of the cart so it wouldn’t get crushed.
The borrowed clothes were ill-fitting and felt strange as he mounted the steps of General White’s home. Evelyn answered the door promptly after he rang the bell.
“Clyde! I almost didn’t recognize you in your civvies.”
He felt heat gathering in his cheeks. “I didn’t want to mess up my uniform in case there is heavy lifting.”
“But it’s only a few satchels of clothes, nothing like the mucking about we did in the greenhouse all summer.”
Mercifully, she didn’t press the point. She merely held the door wide and beckoned him inside. “I can’t tell you how grateful I am that you’re helping me out. It’s strange for Romulus to abandon me like this, but I gather a rare meadowlark has been spotted east of town, and he is keen to go see if he can find it.” She slanted him a humorous gaze and lowered her voice. “Personally, I think he’s merely lazy and using it as an excuse to slough off work.”
“Romulus isn’t lazy, but let’s go.” In short order, he had her bags loaded into the back of the cart. On the entire drive across town, he was too tongue-tied to broach the subject that had been burning inside him all summer. All too soon he was pulling the cart up before a white farmhouse on the outskirts of town, a covered porch stretching across the front of the first story.
“Well, here we are,” Clyde said, pulling on the brake and preparing to spring off the seat, but Evelyn hadn’t moved. She was staring into the distance, where a line of sycamore trees abutted a field of barley, the golden fronds swaying gently in the breeze.
“The barley is almost ready to be harvested,” she said. He had never heard such despondency in her voice. “I guess summer really is over.”
“I wish it weren’t.” In the past, Clyde had always been anxious to get back to school and the joy of delving into the world of knowledge, but this year was different. If he could, he would live in this summer forever.
But there was no help for it. He lugged her bags up the wooden steps and onto the porch, setting them down with a hollow thud. Evelyn knocked, but no one answered the door. They stood awkwardly on the porch, and he could sense her misery, waiting to be admitted to a house where she would once again be a seasonal, mildly unwelcome burden.
A middle-aged woman with the tightest
“Oh, twist my arm,” Clyde said with relish. He’d had plenty of time with Evelyn over the summer, but Romulus had usually been just a few yards away.
As much as he mourned the end of this magical summer, it was time to start courting Evelyn in earnest.
Clyde borrowed a set of civilian clothes from Smitty. If the sight of a cadet’s uniform kept Evelyn at arm’s length, he wouldn’t wear one. Smitty’s clothes were humble, but at least they didn’t have patches on the knees.
Smitty had immediately suspected the reason Clyde wanted to borrow the clothes. “Be sure to go into that fancy washroom you installed for me and give yourself a nice clean shave before you go call on that girl . . . the general’s daughter.”
“I’m not calling on her. I’m just helping her move to her aunt’s house.” Was his infatuation for Evelyn so obvious? But he was grateful for the advice, because it hadn’t occurred to him to shave again.
He was also grateful Romulus had carried through on his promise to become unavailable to drive Evelyn. Today would mark the end of the best summer of his life, but perhaps it would be a turning point into something better between him and Evelyn. He’d also taken Romulus’s advice about a gift. It was a modest present, but still one he couldn’t afford and had bartered with a day of labor at the curio shop in exchange for the gift. He’d carefully wrapped it in tissue paper and set it in a wooden box at the back of the cart so it wouldn’t get crushed.
The borrowed clothes were ill-fitting and felt strange as he mounted the steps of General White’s home. Evelyn answered the door promptly after he rang the bell.
“Clyde! I almost didn’t recognize you in your civvies.”
He felt heat gathering in his cheeks. “I didn’t want to mess up my uniform in case there is heavy lifting.”
“But it’s only a few satchels of clothes, nothing like the mucking about we did in the greenhouse all summer.”
Mercifully, she didn’t press the point. She merely held the door wide and beckoned him inside. “I can’t tell you how grateful I am that you’re helping me out. It’s strange for Romulus to abandon me like this, but I gather a rare meadowlark has been spotted east of town, and he is keen to go see if he can find it.” She slanted him a humorous gaze and lowered her voice. “Personally, I think he’s merely lazy and using it as an excuse to slough off work.”
“Romulus isn’t lazy, but let’s go.” In short order, he had her bags loaded into the back of the cart. On the entire drive across town, he was too tongue-tied to broach the subject that had been burning inside him all summer. All too soon he was pulling the cart up before a white farmhouse on the outskirts of town, a covered porch stretching across the front of the first story.
“Well, here we are,” Clyde said, pulling on the brake and preparing to spring off the seat, but Evelyn hadn’t moved. She was staring into the distance, where a line of sycamore trees abutted a field of barley, the golden fronds swaying gently in the breeze.
“The barley is almost ready to be harvested,” she said. He had never heard such despondency in her voice. “I guess summer really is over.”
“I wish it weren’t.” In the past, Clyde had always been anxious to get back to school and the joy of delving into the world of knowledge, but this year was different. If he could, he would live in this summer forever.
But there was no help for it. He lugged her bags up the wooden steps and onto the porch, setting them down with a hollow thud. Evelyn knocked, but no one answered the door. They stood awkwardly on the porch, and he could sense her misery, waiting to be admitted to a house where she would once again be a seasonal, mildly unwelcome burden.
A middle-aged woman with the tightest
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