A Time to Bloom (Leah's Garden #2)(7)

“Could we feed the weeds to Buttercup?”

Lark and Lilac exchanged wide-eyed looks. Lark grabbed her hoe. “Some weeds are not good for cows.”

She waited for the next question, but Lilac took his hand and showed him the carrot tops.

“You have to pull out the weeds gently so the carrots stay in the ground. And if a carrot comes out, too, you dig a hole with your finger and stick it back in the ground.” She made sure her actions were the same as her words.

She and Robbie each took a carrot row, and Lark moved on to the beans. Another month and they’d be picking beans. She looked off to the pasture, where dandelion blossoms dotted the field. Time to go pick greens again for supper. She reminded herself to look for wild onion and curly dock. And they could pull some cattails from that swampy area. In the spring, they’d enjoyed wild asparagus and the tender young leaves of stinging nettle—boiled to take out the sting, of course. And morel mushrooms. Her mouth watered at the memory. She hilled up the potatoes to make sure the tubers didn’t get sunburned.

“Robbie, would you go get us some water to drink, please?” Lilac asked.

He bounded up with a big grin and ran toward the house, then brought back a jug of water. “When can we go fishing?”

“As soon as we finish weeding the beans. They go fast.” Lilac set the jug back by the fence. “You want to go over to the old manure pile and find us some worms?”

“To eat?” His eyes danced with his giggle.

Lilac rolled her eyes and wagged her head, making him laugh even more. “There’s a tin pail by the well house.”

He took off for the house with the jug.

Lark wiped her forehead again. “He seems much older than five.”

“I know. He can even read simple words. I think he could do all right in school, although Del says to wait until he’s six. That’s the usual age to start first grade. The other day he drew letters in the dirt with a stick and taught Sofie to recognize them too.”

Lark shook her head. “Does Del know this?”

“Probably not, but I’ll tell her. She’s been lesson planning every chance she gets lately. She seems to feel extra pressure with all the new students coming in.”

“She knows we depend on her salary to help us stay afloat. If we can get a good wheat crop this year, that’ll bring in some cash and help a good deal.”

“As long as we get enough rain but not too much, and no storms ruin the harvest or grasshoppers or . . .”

“Don’t remind me.” Lark tipped back her hat, hoping for a breeze against her sweaty face. Lord, farming sure is full of reasons to trust you.



The next morning, coffee cup in hand, Lark studied the tall grasses rippling like waves in the breeze. Good thing they’d gotten the garden weeded yesterday. She fetched the whetstone out of the tool storage and set to sharpening the scythes.

Lilac, also cup in hand, joined her on the bench. “Del out milking?”

Lark nodded. “It was nice of her to start the coffee first.” Looking to the east, she watched the sun peep its first bit of golden glory over the horizon. As if attached, the aria of the birds burst forth, announcing and welcoming the sun.

“Just think,” Lark said, “when we have more trees around the house, we’ll have more birds singing.”

“Cutting hay today?” Lilac took a sip of coffee.

“As soon as the dew dries.”

“Jesse said he’d be out early.”

“Good. Three of us scything will get a lot done, especially if Del spells.” Lark dumped the dregs from her coffee cup on the clumps of grass growing by the sod house. “Those fish were such a treat last night. You and Robbie need to go fishing more often.”

“We saw a rattler pattern across the path.”

“That’s all we need. I’ll cut the bread. Del said she was churning butter today, since she didn’t get to it yesterday, and the soft cheese in the well house should be ready.”

They went inside to make breakfast, and a few minutes later, Jesse stepped in the door. “Mornin’.”

“Figures. Breakfast is ready, and you appear.” Lark smiled.

“Perfect t-timin’.”

“Thank you for coming.”

“’D’rather work outside than in any day.”

After a breakfast of soft cheese and bread, Lark filled a jug with water, and each of them picked up the sharpened scythes leaning against the house. After walking past the fenced-in gardens and pasture, she set the jug next to a fence post and settled her straw hat. “Let me get a couple of lengths in, and then you each do the same.”

She swung the scythe, and the tall grass lay flat to dry. Three steps as she swung the scythe back, and the second swath lay, the pattern developing. Humming in her head, she continued to the far corner of the pasture fence, turned to the right, and continued. Her arms and shoulders were already complaining.

Looking back, she could see how the others were doing. Keeping the pace she’d set meant they would all be dragging before long. She took two more swathes, then something made her pause.

Sure enough, a nicely coiled rattler warned her away.

“Thank you, Lord.” She raised her voice. “You two, stop. We have a guest.”

Jesse joined her. “You want me to kill him?”