Read Online Until the Harvest by Sarah Loudin Thomas - Free Book Online
Authors: Sarah Loudin Thomas
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about the whole thing.
With that thought in mind, Henry let his shoulders relax. He realized he was exhausted. Weariness settled over him, and he was grateful to finally get home and slip inside to his room. He hoped he wasn’t disturbing his mother. He hoped she’d gone on to bed and was sleeping peacefully. But something inside told him she was likely lying awake worrying about him. He hardened his heart. Things changed when Dad died, and they’d both have to get used to it.
The next morning Henry woke from a fitful sleep. As tired as he’d been, he expected to sleep heavily, but indefinable dreams had kept him tossing and turning, and he rose feeling like he’d aged ten years.
“Henry, your grandmother called a little bit ago.” Mom sipped coffee and eyed him as if trying to come up with a plan of attack. “She said something about going to the stockyards today.”
“Yeah. I said I’d take her to find a milk cow.”
Mom’s face registered surprise. “Oh? You did? That’s nice. Although I’m not sure she can handle a cow on her own.”
Henry bristled. “She’s got me. And Margaret is going to help. Don’t treat her like she’s old and feeble.”
“That’s not what I meant. I’m glad she’ll have help, but what about when you go back to school?”
Henry poured coffee into a thick mug and sloshed some out onto the counter. He cursed softly and saw his mother stiffen out of the corner of his eye. He debated repeating the curse word louder but stirred a heaping spoonful of sugar into his coffee instead. “I may not go back to school. With Dad gone and Sadie off doing her own thing in Ohio, I figure you need me. Grandma, too.”
This time his mother’s feelings were clear in her posture. She sat up ramrod straight, her chin lifted, and her blue eyes steely. “You’ve decided that for sure?”
Henry set his jaw and met his mother’s eyes. “Pretty sure.”
“Well, then, I guess your grandmother is in luck.” She got up from the table where she’d been eating toast and jelly, walked to the sink to deposit her coffee mug with a clatter, and left the room.
Henry watched her go wondering what he would do for breakfast. He thought she’d be making it when he got up. He opened a cupboard and took down a box of Corn Flakes. If he could fend for himself at school, surely he could at home. Warring emotions rose in his chest, but Henry battled them down. The best thing would be to not let himself feel much of anything. He poured cereal in a bowl and added milk. It didn’t matter, he told himself. Nothing really mattered but that he fill his father’s shoes, one way or another.
“Henry, I have to confess I’m a little bit excited at the prospect of getting a cow.” Grandma fluttered around her living room, gathering up a head scarf and overshoes. She settled on the sofa and began donning the layers she thought she’d need for their trip to the stockyards. Henry grinned in spite of his dark mood. He liked to see his grandmother fluttering around. He’d have to keep an eye on her today.
Once they arrived at the stockyards, Henry felt happily distant from his night of delivering illegal liquor. The warehouse-sized barn was a maze of cattle, pigs, horses, sheep, and other animals, with more holding pens in the fields out back. He breathed in the earthy, pungent aroma. It smelled like warm animal hides, manure, and grain, with a faint hint of popcorn from the concession booth out front. It was oddly appealing.
Henry admired a brood sow with a litter of twelve and saw a fine Angus bull that he thought would be a good cross for some Hereford cattle. He imagined which stock he’d pick out for his own farm one day.
Grandma Emily trotted down the sawdust-covered aisle straight to the milk cows. There were several on offer, and at first glance Henry couldn’t see any real deficiencies with any of them. On the end, there was a smaller brown Guernsey that caught his eye and apparently appealed to
With that thought in mind, Henry let his shoulders relax. He realized he was exhausted. Weariness settled over him, and he was grateful to finally get home and slip inside to his room. He hoped he wasn’t disturbing his mother. He hoped she’d gone on to bed and was sleeping peacefully. But something inside told him she was likely lying awake worrying about him. He hardened his heart. Things changed when Dad died, and they’d both have to get used to it.
The next morning Henry woke from a fitful sleep. As tired as he’d been, he expected to sleep heavily, but indefinable dreams had kept him tossing and turning, and he rose feeling like he’d aged ten years.
“Henry, your grandmother called a little bit ago.” Mom sipped coffee and eyed him as if trying to come up with a plan of attack. “She said something about going to the stockyards today.”
“Yeah. I said I’d take her to find a milk cow.”
Mom’s face registered surprise. “Oh? You did? That’s nice. Although I’m not sure she can handle a cow on her own.”
Henry bristled. “She’s got me. And Margaret is going to help. Don’t treat her like she’s old and feeble.”
“That’s not what I meant. I’m glad she’ll have help, but what about when you go back to school?”
Henry poured coffee into a thick mug and sloshed some out onto the counter. He cursed softly and saw his mother stiffen out of the corner of his eye. He debated repeating the curse word louder but stirred a heaping spoonful of sugar into his coffee instead. “I may not go back to school. With Dad gone and Sadie off doing her own thing in Ohio, I figure you need me. Grandma, too.”
This time his mother’s feelings were clear in her posture. She sat up ramrod straight, her chin lifted, and her blue eyes steely. “You’ve decided that for sure?”
Henry set his jaw and met his mother’s eyes. “Pretty sure.”
“Well, then, I guess your grandmother is in luck.” She got up from the table where she’d been eating toast and jelly, walked to the sink to deposit her coffee mug with a clatter, and left the room.
Henry watched her go wondering what he would do for breakfast. He thought she’d be making it when he got up. He opened a cupboard and took down a box of Corn Flakes. If he could fend for himself at school, surely he could at home. Warring emotions rose in his chest, but Henry battled them down. The best thing would be to not let himself feel much of anything. He poured cereal in a bowl and added milk. It didn’t matter, he told himself. Nothing really mattered but that he fill his father’s shoes, one way or another.
“Henry, I have to confess I’m a little bit excited at the prospect of getting a cow.” Grandma fluttered around her living room, gathering up a head scarf and overshoes. She settled on the sofa and began donning the layers she thought she’d need for their trip to the stockyards. Henry grinned in spite of his dark mood. He liked to see his grandmother fluttering around. He’d have to keep an eye on her today.
Once they arrived at the stockyards, Henry felt happily distant from his night of delivering illegal liquor. The warehouse-sized barn was a maze of cattle, pigs, horses, sheep, and other animals, with more holding pens in the fields out back. He breathed in the earthy, pungent aroma. It smelled like warm animal hides, manure, and grain, with a faint hint of popcorn from the concession booth out front. It was oddly appealing.
Henry admired a brood sow with a litter of twelve and saw a fine Angus bull that he thought would be a good cross for some Hereford cattle. He imagined which stock he’d pick out for his own farm one day.
Grandma Emily trotted down the sawdust-covered aisle straight to the milk cows. There were several on offer, and at first glance Henry couldn’t see any real deficiencies with any of them. On the end, there was a smaller brown Guernsey that caught his eye and apparently appealed to
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