Topic: A Plan Gone Well

Millie Mullen

Date: 2015-12-06 12:58 EST
Though Eli had not returned home by the time the sun was well up the next morning, there were still chores that needed to be done. Cody was more than capable of handling Aedan on his own, which was just as well, because Brona was not exactly the strongest woman in the world. The sight of her trying to manhandle three large sacks of wheat into the wagon had caused actual discomfort to the two men who had caught her at it, and Nate had quickly had his involvement in a visit to the mill reiterated. Side by side on the wagon bench, they'd waved goodbye to Cody and Aedan, and set off for the mill, not more than a mile away along a well used track.

The water wheel was still as they approached, but there were signs of life, evidenced by the old man sitting out in the morning sunshine, one leg wrapped and raised onto a convenient barrel. His gray head lifted as he heard the wagon coming, offering a welcoming smile to the pair who drew up.

"Brona! We weren't expecting you today," he declared cheerfully.

Brona laughed, rolling her eyes. "Yes, you were, you old curmudgeon," she teased him. "Nate, this is Old Man Green, our miller. He does have a first name, but he doesn't like to tell people what it is. This is Nate," she added to the old man with a smile. "He's joined us at the farm."

Nate knew this was the Old Man Green that Brona had been to see just before Eli had abducted her at gunpoint to tend to their youngest brother. It seemed like a very long time ago, though it had only been a few weeks, at most. "Howdy," Nate said, tipping his hat at the man in a friendly gesture, though he was feeling a little bit awkward.

"You're very welcome to our mill, Nate," Old Man Green nodded to him cheerfully. "I'd stand and greet you, but this leg ..."

Brona smiled as she hopped down from the wagon. "Should we put the wheat in the threshing room?" she asked him.

The old man nodded, raising his voice suddenly. "Millie! Need your help, lovely!"

A feminine voice from inside the house attached to the mill answered. "I'm coming, Grandpa!"

Brona smirked to herself, moving to try and get at least one of the sacks from the wagon bed.

Nate hopped down from the wagon, a little too late to help Brona down, but not too late to help her haul the sacks of wheat, his turn to shoo her away, for a change. "I've got it, Brona," he told her, easily hoisting one of the sacks over his shoulder. He was about to ask her where she wanted it when another voice chimed in, not only female but unfamiliar.

As Brona laughed, shying away exaggeratedly as she was shooed, the owner of that voice made herself known, stepping out onto the porch behind the old man. Millie was tall, much taller than most women in Pax, dwarfing Brona by a good five or six inches. But she wasn't out of proportion; simply a tall, slender girl, possessed of wheat blonde hair and soft green eyes, dressed practically with a hem that was significantly shorter than those Nate had seen in the village. She offered a shy smile to the one unknown face there, bending to kiss her grandfather's cheek.

"Three, wasn't it, Brona?" Old Man Green asked. Brona nodded, lifting her medicine basket down from the wagon bench. He looked up at his granddaughter. "Three sacks, lovely," he told her. "Young Nate there will help you, I imagine. This is my granddaughter, Millicent," he introduced her belatedly. "Millie, that's Nate."

"Nathaniel," Nate countered. If she was going to be Millicent, then he was Nathaniel. He shifted the sack on his shoulder, standing at least a few inches taller than the girl. He straighted so that he stood his full height, almost as if he was trying to make a good impression.

"Hello, Nathaniel." Millie's shy smile returned to him as she glanced back to her grandfather and Brona. She moved to the wagon, reaching to pull a second sack over her own shoulder with capable hands, evidently far stronger than she looked. "They'll be a while," she said softly, nodding to the pair on the porch. "Grandpa likes to talk, and he doesn't get much opportunity to these days. This way." She gestured for Nate to come with her, moving toward the mill itself.

"I'll get it, ma'am. You don't have to do that," he told her, easily managing the sack of wheat he already had balanced on his shoulder. It didn't yet occur to him that Brona had brought him here on purpose in hopes he'd hit it off with Millie. He couldn't help but notice she was pretty, and unlike most women, tall and slender as a willow, but he didn't get his hopes up.

Millie blushed at the courteous offer, her smile warming a little as she looked up at him. "You can come back for the other one, if you really want to," she told him in return, unused to people offering to do all the heavy lifting. "We only have to get them inside. The wheel does all the work of getting them up top." Her green eyes were soft as she looked at him, shy of such a handsome man but impressed by him as well.

A farmer's son, he wasn't too sure how milling was done, but it seemed he was about to learn. "How does it work?" he asked, as he followed her along, that bag of grain balanced against his shoulder. To be honest, he was more interested in the girl than the mill, but it would never do to say so, and he had only just met her.

She handled her own sack as easily as he did his, it seemed, offering that shy smile over her shoulder as she pushed open the door to enter the mill. It was a small space, almost cramped, and all they could see on this level was mostly interconnected cog wheels and a pair of millstones laid horizontally against one another. An empty sack stood at the end of a shoot connected to those millstones, ready to receive freshly milled flour. "Once we let the water wheel turn, it does all the work," she explained, setting her sack down on a worn piece of floor beneath a trapdoor. "We'll attach the sacks to a hook that'll take them upstairs, and then we pour the wheat into the top milling stones. They move with the wheel, you see. Then it takes about an hour for the flour to get milled and all the way down here to the sack."

Though some thought Nate simple, he nodded as he took it all in, understanding the complexity of the wheel and what it was meant to do. "I see," he replied, setting the sack down at last to join hers. "How much flour will each sack of grain make?" he asked curiously, genuinely interested in the process. Though Eli had his patrols and Cody had his books, it was gadgets that seemed to interest Nate most.

Straightening up, Millie's smile warmed, surprised and pleased to find someone actually interested in how the mill worked, rather than trying to flirt just to pass the time. "We get about three pounds of flour to every six pounds of wheat, roughly," she told him. "You've got thirty pounds here, so we're looking at about a sack and a half of flour when we're done."

"Seems like a lot of work for a little flour," he said, though it seemed the wheel did most of the work for them, other than the hauling and hanging of the sacks. "What happens when winter comes?" he asked, curiously, wondering if the wheel still turned when it was cold enough to turn the water to ice.

Millie Mullen

Date: 2015-12-06 12:59 EST
Millie grimaced, biting her lip. "When it gets to freezing, we have to keep the wheel turning all the time," she admitted, moving to leave the mill and fetch out the last sack of wheat from the wagon. "Otherwise everything freezes up, and I have to go at it with a hammer to get it moving again. That's how my Grandpa got hurt - he slipped when the mechanism started up again, and his leg went between the milling stones."

Nate winced, knowing a man - or woman, for that matter - could easily lose a leg in such an accident if they were not careful. This was no vocation to be taken lightly. And that was also how Eli had run into Brona, but he wasn't about to tell her that. "Will he be all right?" he asked, with real concern.

Millie paused, glancing over to where Brona was unwrapping her grandfather's leg to check his healing. She looked back to Nate worriedly. "He won't walk without a stick again, if he ever manages to walk on his own," she admitted reluctantly. "He didn't want me working the mill, but who else is there" I can handle it - Mama always said I had to be tall for a reason."

Nate didn't miss how she'd referred to her mother in the past tense, presuming she was deceased, just like his own mother. "I'm sorry," he told her, not just about her mother but her father, too. She obviously had no brothers to help or Brona would have mentioned them, and it seemed she had no suitors either, though he wasn't too sure. "There must be someone who can help."

"No one's interested," she told him quietly, reaching into the wagon bed for the last sack. "They want the land, but not the mill, and if no one's working the mill, then everyone'll have to mill their own flour by hand. So there's some folks trying to get my Grandpa to marry me off to their boys, but he won't do that to me. He says he doesn't want any lazy bully beating me up and making me do all the work. I keep saying we should hire someone, train them up, and then they can take the mill, but it's been in the family since it was built. Grandpa doesn't want to be the last Green who milled here."

"I could work here for a while, until you find someone," Nate found himself volunteering, though he wasn't quite sure why. He found the mill intriguing, and there was nothing wrong with a honest day's work, but it wasn't just that which interested him, though he'd hardly admit it even to himself.

"Would you really want to?" she asked, her soft eyes lighting up hopefully. If she was honest with herself, it was only partly in response to his interest in the mill. He was a handsome man, not much older than her, and she liked his manners. It would be nice to get to know him. Sure hands grasped the sack to heave it up onto her shoulder. "Most men I know don't like the idea of having a woman tell them what to do, even to start with."

"Let me take that," he insisted moving to take the sack from her, his fingers accidentally brushing hers, which stirred a bit of color in his handsome cheeks. Okay, so there was a bit of a gentleman inside him somewhere, but what kind of man would he be if he let her lug the heavy sack while he stood by and did nothing" "Just happens I'm new in town and looking for work," he replied in answer to her question as he took the sack and tossed it over his shoulder.

"Oh ....thank you." Her shy smile was back, warm with pleased surprise as he took the sack from her, her own cheeks coloring at the unexpected touch of his fingers against hers. "I'm sure Grandpa wouldn't say no to some help," she offered softly as they headed back into the mill. "Let me talk to him. I could persuade him."

"What do you wanna do?" he asked, as he followed her back toward the mill with the sack in tow. She'd told him what her grandfather wanted, but not what she wanted. As far as taking orders from a woman, well, he'd been taking orders from Brona for the last month or so and hadn't been offended even once.

Millie looked surprised to have been asked, one hand absentmindedly twisting an escaping lock of hair back into the knot at her nape. "I, uh ..." She blushed, biting her lip in quiet embarrassment. "All I ever really wanted was to have a family," she admitted in her shy way, her eyes fixed on the sacks already beneath the trapdoor. "Have a man to love, who loves me, and ..." She shook her head. "It sounds silly. I'm not like the other girls around here. I'm too tall and I'm too strong and ....I'm just not what men my age want. I figure I'll work the mill until I'm not wanted, and then I'll find something else to do with myself."

"Maybe you just haven't met the right man yet," he told her with a completely innocent smile, not even realizing he could just as well be referring to himself. He slung the last sack off his shoulder to join the other two. "I had dreams once, but after my Ma and Pa died, nothing seemed to matter much, except my brothers." He wasn't sure why he was telling her that, except that Nate was nothing if not honest to a flaw. He had no secrets and wasn't afraid to speak his mind.

"I'm sorry." Like his had been, her condolences were sincere, accompanied by the gentle touch of her hand to his arm. "You have brothers?" she asked, unhooking a chain from the wall to wrap the sacks securely together. "My mama never had any more after me. I always wondered what it'd be like, having brothers or sisters."

"Two brothers, one younger, one older," he explained, brushing his hands on his trousers. "My younger brother, Cody, is courting Brona." He didn't expound on that or volunteer anything else about his older brother. It wasn't like Nate to feel jealous, but he thought if she ever met Eli, he wouldn't stand a chance, and for some reason, he wanted a chance this once. Besides, he knew Eli would never tie himself down to working in a mill, though he might find Millie attractive. There wasn't much not to like there.

"I thought she was smiling more these days," Millie said with a slightly mischievous cast to her own smile as she straightened up. "Okay ....pull that lever behind you, and we can go up. It's gonna get loud in here, just so you know."

Nate glanced behind him to find the lever in question, turning back to make sure she was ready for him to get the mill moving. "Ready?" he asked, not wanting either of them to get hurt once the wheel started to turn.

She nodded encouragingly, one last check of the chain about the sacks rattling the rope that was current wedged in the close trapdoor above them. "Ready."

Once she confirmed everything was ready to go, he turned back to the lever and gave it a push, looking back with interest as he set the wheel in motion.

For a moment after he pulled the lever, there was no sign of life. Millie stood, her head tilted to one side, listening for something Nate was unaware of. Just before a watery scraping sound made itself known, she smiled and turned to the steep stairway, gesturing for him to come with her. As the water wheel turned with the passage of water from the stream, the cogwheels inside started to turn, each one picking up the rhythm until finally, with a grinding scrape, the millstones began to revolve against one another. All in all, it was a rather noisy set up, but it did the job.

Nate followed her up the stairs as the mill started to work, in awe of the engineering of it and all the work that had gone into creating the thing and keeping it operating. It wasn't the kind of work for one person, especially if that person was a woman. It wasn't that he didn't find her competent, but it was safer to have a partner in case something went wrong, not to mention easier. Two could do the work far quicker and easier than one.

Millie Mullen

Date: 2015-12-06 13:00 EST
It was a little quieter above, but only a little. As they reached the top level, Millie went straight to work without thinking. One heel kicked another, smaller lever on the wall, and the trapdoor dropped open, a winch attached to the cogs pulling the sacks of wheat up from the floor below as she poured a bucket of water over the revolving millstones. As the sacks reached the top level, she kicked the lever once again, and the trapdoor snapped shut, the sacks hanging just an inch or so above it. She flashed a smile toward Nate. "Simple, huh?"

Nate nodded, appreciating the cleverness of it. Of course, he knew what a mill was and how it worked, but he had never seen one so up close and personal before. "What do we have to do next?" he asked, calling over the noise of the mill as it worked.

Unhooking the chain from the sacks, she let them thump down onto the trapdoor. "We pour the sacks, one at a time, into the hole in the middle of the grindstones," she said, reaching over the rumbling stone to point out the hole in the center. "Takes about twenty minutes for each sack to go through, and you grind dry for a minute to clear out the chaff and cool the stones. Then the next sack." Thankfully there was a platform built to allow easier access to the pouring place, but it was still a difficult maneuver.

"Does it matter how quickly you do the pouring?" he asked, taking all of this in with rapt interest, a quick study in the working of the mill.

"You don't want to go too fast," she told him, lifting one of the sacks. "Too much wheat all at once, and the stones can't grind it all. You end up with really rough flour that isn't good enough for baking. You want a trickle, really - it's the hardest part of the job. Your arms ache holding the sack up for that long."

"Why don't you build something that would slow the flow of the grain for you?" he asked, the wheels in his head turning. Perhaps he wasn't really so slow and simple, after all; perhaps he just hadn't had a chance to put his own abilities to good use.

She blushed, shrugging. "Even if I had the time, I'm not clever enough to try and build something like that," she admitted, stepping up onto the platform to lean out over the grinding stones. There was plenty of room, with wide windows currently shuttered, allowing for the place to be cool in summer. Untying the neck of the sack, she hoisted it up under her arm and aimed the trickle of grain for the hole at the center of the top stone.

Though he wanted to help, he was content for now to watch how the whole operation worked - how slowly the grain had to trickle down into the stone and how quickly the stone worked to grind the grain into flour. It was a complex operation, but he thought if given the chance, he might be able to make it a little easier on whoever was doing most of the work. "I reckon I could, if I had the tools," he said after a few minutes of watching. He didn't think it would be all that difficult either, and would make her job a lot easier. "Here," he said, offering to take the sack from her, knowing how heavy it was. "Let me help."

Already up on the platform, there was nowhere for her to go as he offered to take the sack, leaving her blushing as they stood, cramped together, above the stones. "Thank you." She watched him for a long moment, shy hopes racing through her mind. Maybe she could convince her grandfather to hire Nate. And maybe they'd get to like each other, and maybe they'd get married, and ....She stopped her racing thoughts. That was a little too ambitious. Just having someone to give the mill to would be enough. "What did you do before you started working on the Dugan farm?" she asked him curiously, not needing to be quite so loud now they were so close together.

He seemed to have little trouble hoisting the sack and holding it still so that the grain could trickle down through the hole in the millstone, muscles flexing beneath his shirt and coat. "Hunt mutants," he replied, simply and honestly. There wasn't much to it than that.

"Really?" Millie seemed startled by that idea, though her following comment offered some explanation. "But you're so nice." Hunters passed through from time to time, and nice wasn't generally a word that could be applied to them. Single-minded, perhaps.

He would have shrugged if he wasn't so busy hefting that sack of grain. "After our parents were killed, we decided we'd do whatever we could to stop that from happening to somebody else, but now that Cody's with Brona ..." He trailed off, a look of concentration on his face. This was where he would have shrugged again, but was unable to. "Eli joined the militia. Reckon he'll expect me to join him."

"Do you want to join the militia?" she asked him, shifting a little. It didn't help much; she was still pressed against his side, one hand bracing herself against the wall to keep from overbalancing.

He wondered if it had been a good idea for him to join her on the platform, seeing how little room there was to navigate, but he'd been too eager to help to think it through properly, and it was too late to do anything about it now. "Ain't never mattered what I want," he replied, not quite realizing how she had turned the tables on the question he'd asked her only a short time earlier.

"So what do you want, Nathaniel?" she asked, full of questions, it seemed. But it was important to her, for some reason, to know what it was he wanted to do with himself, or for himself. She'd wonder why later.

"Same thing as you, I s'pect," he replied, trying to focus his attention on the grain and not on the tall, willowy female standing just a little too close for comfort. "House and a family someday. Only thing I know is hunting and farming, and I ain't very good at either. That's why Brona brought me here, I reckon. To see if I could find work." Because it couldn't possibly be to matchmake, could it"

The same thought flickered through Millie's mind, but unlike Nate, she'd known Brona since they were children. She knew exactly what her friend was capable of, and felt her face flush, half in embarrassment and half complimented by the young healer's making the bait, not the mill itself. "Maybe there's hope for us yet, then."

This time he did shrug, since the bag of grain was nearly empty. He didn't really think Brona was playing matchmaker. As far as he knew, she was just trying to find him a job and help out her friends. Even if someone were to tell him what she was up to, he probably wouldn't believe it. What did he have to offer anyone, after all" He wasn't smart like Cody or brave like Eli. He was just Nate, the invisible middle son.

Except ....he wasn't invisible. Not to Millie. The longer they stood there together, torn between watching the grain trickle down and glancing at one another, the more she saw to like in him. Her habitual shyness took an unexpected backseat as the sack finally emptied, allowing her to blurt out an question she would never normally have asked. "Are you taking anyone to the social?"

That was the last question he expected to hear from her, or from anyone, for that matter, and it showed in the expression on his face. "The social?" he echoed, frowning doubtfully. He hadn't planned on asking anyone, too afraid he'd get turned down. Unlike Eli, women weren't falling all over themselves to get him to notice them. "No, I mean ....I reckon Cody's taking Brona."

Blushing crimson on her pale cheeks, Millie stuttered for a moment, gathering her courage to go through with what she had opened up. "You ....you could ask me," she suggested shyly, swallowing hard as she looked down at the revolving stones, scared to meet his gaze now she'd actually come out and said it.

Millie Mullen

Date: 2015-12-06 13:00 EST
His jaw fell open, and he almost dropped what was left of the bag of grain, a look of shock on his face. "Ask you?" he echoed again. It took him a moment to wrap his head around the fact that by suggesting he ask her, she was actually asking him. "Do you wanna go?" he asked, jostling the bag to get a better grip on it, as he inquired further.

It was just as well she wasn't looking at his face, or that shocked expression would have put her off ever even considering asking anyone a question like that ever again. Shy and embarrassed by her own boldness, she chewed on her lip, her eyes fixed on the millstones. "Not on my own," she said, almost too quietly for him to hear over the sound of the mill. "Grandpa will be going, and I'll have to go, too, but ....No one ever asks me to dance."

"Why not?" he asked, as if he either hadn't understood the question, and then it hit him. It was her height. It had to be. There wasn't anything wrong with her, as far as he could tell. She was pretty - very pretty - smart, and friendly, but she was a little tall, though that didn't bother him much. He was the shortest of the three brothers and still stood well over six feet in height.

She shook her head, dismissing the idea out of hand. After all, if he had so many questions, it was unlikely he was interested in her suggestion. "It doesn't matter," she offered him a way out, with a smile that was more practiced than genuine. She gestured to the other sacks still on the ground. "We should get on, or the flour will burn when the stones get too hot."

He turned away from her as he emptied the bag out, quietly contemplating. It did matter or she wouldn't have mentioned it, but did she really want to go with him' "If I asked, would you say yes?" he queried, turning to look her way before following her gaze to the remaining sacks of grain. Did she really want to go with him or was this just her way of thanking him for helping with the work"

But Millie, it seemed, had run out of courage when it came to actually speaking. Very carefully easing past him to check that the majority of the flour had sifted off the stones, she turned to pick up a bucket of water, pouring about a third of it onto the rumbling stone to cool it down again. In answer to Nate's question, she could only summon up a shy nod, unable to even meet his eyes in her acute embarrassment with herself.

Nate furrowed his brows as he regarded her, wondering if she really wanted to go with him or not, but why would she have mentioned it otherwise" He thought on that a moment, as he picked up another bag of grain and waited for her to give him the word. What did he want to do' He hadn't considered asking anyone to the social, and even if he had, he didn't know anyone well enough to ask. But it seemed Millie wanted to go and she wanted to go with him. "I'll go with you, if you want to, Millie," he told her at last, if only to put that smile back on her face. She was far too pretty to be frowning like that.

She looked up with a start, her green eyes wide with surprise and pleasure. "Really?" Though her smile was half-disbelieving, there was no mistaking that she was truly delighted to be asked, even if she had rather pushed him into it. "Y-you're not just saying that because you feel sorry for me?"

"No," he replied, pausing a moment to heft the bag up over his shoulder and start the process of turning grain into flour all over again. "You're not just asking me because you feel sorry for me, are you?" he countered, wondering the same thing. No one else seemed to have taken much notice of him, so why should she"

"Oh, no!" She rushed to reassure him of that fact, her eyes still wide. "I ....I would never do that. I know what it feels like to be singled out like that and it's horrible." Biting her lip, she tucked that escaping hank of hair back into her bun once again. "I-I would like to go with you, if-if you would like me to."

"I'd like to go with you, Millie," he admitted honestly. No more beating around the bush. It wasn't just the fact that he had no other offers, but that he genuinely liked her, though they had only just met. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, after all. If nothing else came of it, at least he might make a new friend.

There was the smile he'd been hoping for - not the shy smile, or the practiced smile, but a bright smile that lit up her face with hopeful delight. "Thank you, Nate," she said softly, touching one hand to his wrist briefly. "I would very much like to go with you."

"I would very much like to go with you, too," he replied, a smile lighting up his face to mirror hers, almost forgetting the sack on his shoulder and losing his balance as she touched his wrist. He laughed at his own foolishness, blushing a little before he righted the bag. "I don't have many friends," he admitted, except maybe for Brona and her family.

His answering smile made her blush, giggling a little at how truly delighted she was with the way things had worked out. "Neither do I," she admitted in return. "Be careful ....I need to go and check the flour. Will you be all right here for a couple of minutes?"

"Yeah, I reckon so," he replied, finding himself frowning a little that she was going to abandon him, but it was only for a few minutes. What the heck was the matter with him' He'd only just met her and she was only going to check the flour. Besides, he couldn't get into too much trouble just pouring grain into a hole in the grinding stone, could he" It would give him a few minutes to think on his idea, though. There had to be a better way to do this.

She wasn't out of sight for long - he had a good view of her through the trapdoor as she emerged below. One hand dipped into the flow of flour, feeling its texture, smelling it to make sure it wasn't burning. She shook the sack beneath that flow carefully, checking its capacity, and a moment later, she was mounting the steps to the upper level again, dusting her hand off against her skirt. "I said I wouldn't be long, didn't I?"

He caught a glimpse of her below him, checking the flour, presumably to make sure everything was going right. He could have watched her all day, but he had to pay attention to his pouring or the entire batch of flour might be ruined. "Is everything going okay?" he asked, once she'd rejoined him. It was tedious work, but at least it made him feel useful for a change.

"Yeah, the flour's coming out perfect," she promised him. "No chaff, and it's fine and powdery. Probably one of our best batches." Emboldened by the knowledge that he was going to take her to the social, she dared to tease him. "Must be because you're here."

He chuckled a little at her remark, though he doubted it had anything to do with him. "Maybe I'm your good luck charm," he added with a playful grin. He didn't really believe it, but he couldn't help teasing her in return.

"Maybe I shouldn't let you leave," she giggled, leaning over the stones to check on the progress of the second sack. It didn't feel like it was taking as long as it usually did, but then, it was rare that she had such engaging company while she was working.

"If your grandpa hires me, I could be here everyday," he pointed, taking his eyes off the grain pouring just long enough to offer her a smile. Unfortunately, he was distracted by her just enough that he lost his balance and accidentally poured too much grain down the chute.

"Whoa!" Millie raised her hand to make him stop pouring. It wasn't an overwhelming amount, but they'd need to wait a little for the grain to be ground down. "Easy there," she smiled at him reassuringly. "Just gotta hold on for that grain to go through."

Startled, he pulled back a moment, lowering the sack to rest his shoulder and arms and let the stone catch up with the grain that had already been poured. He stretched his arm out to work the kink out of his muscles. "You do this all day long?" he asked, with a slight wince. He was no weakling, that much was certain, but this was a kind of work he'd never tried before and that his muscles weren't accustomed to yet.

Millie Mullen

Date: 2015-12-06 13:01 EST
She nodded, a sympathetic smile touching her soft features for the ache she knew he must be feeling. "Yeah, I do," she admitted. "It's harder come autumn, when the harvest comes in and everyone wants their grain milled. It's about two weeks of the mill going almost constantly - it's really a two man job. One to pour, one to keep an eye on the quality of the flour, and of course, both to keep an eye on the machinery."

Or a one man, one woman job, he thought to himself. "Why haven't you hired anyone?" he asked curiously, as he worked the ache out of his shoulder and arm. Maybe they couldn't afford to hire anyone or maybe they just hadn't found anyone suitable for the work. He didn't think he needed to make a lot of money. He and his brothers had survived on a lot less.

She shrugged, one eye on the milling grain between the stones as they talked. "Most everyone around here is a farmer," she offered. "They don't have the time, and those that do don't want all the hard work. We had a man stop for a couple of days and work for bed and board, but he moved on pretty quick. Grandpa doesn't want a stranger, if that makes sense."

"I'm a stranger," Nate pointed out with a worried frown, though it seemed he wouldn't be a stranger forever now that they were going to the social together. Still, he knew people weren't always quick to trust, and it was partly why he and his brothers hadn't picked a place to settle down in, until now, and that was only because of Brona.

"No, you're not," Millie told him, shaking her head. "Besides, you come with high praise from Brona, and Grandpa would do anything for her." She giggled quietly. "If he was a bit younger, he'd have asked her to marry him, you know. He's totally wrapped around her little finger."

"Should I warn my little brother he has competition?" he asked, only half joking. Nate had come to accept the fact that he and his brothers were nomads, rarely staying in any one place for long. It seemed something always happened that pushed them onward. He was really hoping this time would be different, but he wasn't holding his breath.

She giggled again, shaking her head. "Okay, you can pour again now," she told him, after a quick check of the stones. "Somehow I think that battle's already been lost. Your little brother's got a good girl in Brona."

"Cody deserves to be happy," Nate put in, just a little defensive of his kid brother. He swept his hair away from his forehead before leaning over to lug that sack of grain over his shoulder again. He had a feeling he was going to be sore later, but at least it was a good day of honest work.

"I'm not saying he doesn't," Millie assured him gently, marking his posture as the grain began to trickle down into the stones once again. "Just that I know Brona, and I don't know him, yet. She'll treat him right, no one better."

"I reckon he loves her," Nate added, though it sort of went without saying. He wasn't sure if Cody had told Brona that yet, but it was obvious enough for those who knew him well to see. "I wonder how long before they get married."

"If they're already saying they're gonna get married, it won't be long," she mused, envious of her friend and his brother in her quiet way. "Might even be before the social comes around. Two weeks isn't that long, really, but it's plenty of time for a wedding."

"Two weeks!" Nate echoed, nearly upsetting the grain pouring again in his shock. "They've only known each other ..." He broke off. How long had it been" A month or so' It seemed like a lot longer, but that was probably because they'd been in constant company of each other, since that day Eli had forced her to come home with him to tend their little brother. There was that worried frown again. What if someone found out' They'd probably be chased away from another village, and that wouldn't bode well for Cody's happiness.

"Easy!" Millie lurched onto the platform to close her hand around the neck of the sack as he wobbled, her other hand grasping his shoulder to keep herself from overbalancing. "People don't waste time around here," she told him. "Life's short and kinda brutal. If you find someone you want to spend your life with, you go for it. There's plenty of people around here who got married the same day they decided to get engaged."

He looked over at her as she grasped his shoulder and suddenly he found himself saying something he never thought he'd say to anyone. "What about the same day they met?" he asked, turning his head toward her only to find her much closer than he'd expected or was prudent.

Almost nose to nose, Millie looked startled for a moment, biting her lip as her shy smile flickered into view once again. "Some people have," she nodded. "Bart Ryder did, and Lily married Ted the day after he arrived in town. And they've been married for nearly twenty years now."

"Reckon your grandpa wouldn't like that much," he replied, ducking his head, feeling almost as shy as she was. "I ain't never had a girl of my own," he admitted, turning his attention back to the pouring of the grain, so she wouldn't see the heat in his face.

Her face lit up in a brilliant blush as she realized what he was sort of asking her. Easing back down from the platform, she fidgeted, feeling an unfamiliar thrill deep inside herself. "I never been anyone's girl," she countered his admission with her own. "Never thought anyone'd want to make me a wife." With Brona no doubt praising Nate to the skies for her grandfather, she didn't think he would object so much, either.

It was probably too soon to ask if he could court her and far too soon to ask her to marry him, but the social was a start, and if things went well, there was no telling what might happen. Maybe things really were looking up, after all. "I'd be happy to have you be my girl," he admitted further, though he didn't want to push his luck just yet. He'd only known her a few hours at most, but she seemed about as lonely as he was.

She raised her soft green eyes to him, her smile dominant in those shy depths. "I'd be happy to be your girl, Nate," she told him in return. "Real happy. And not just because I'm lonely. Because I like you. I like you a lot." She laughed quietly at her confession, still fidgeting with her skirt.

"I like you, too," he told her, though he hardly knew her. Sometimes you just got a feeling about these things, or so his mother had once told him, a long time ago. It was something she'd told him about his father once. She'd known they belonged together from the first day they'd met. She couldn't explain it, but she just knew.

"Why don't we get married, then?" The words were out of her mouth before she realized she was even thinking them, her entire expression transforming into blissfully embarrassed surprise as her eyes swiveled down, as though accusing her own mouth of speaking before it was spoken to.

If she was hoping he'd be able to calmly keep pouring the grain down the chute while she asked him to marry her, she was mistaken. Once again, he was startled enough to lose his grip on the bag of grain, only this time not only did too much of it go down the chute, but some of it spilled onto the floor as he tried to regain his balance. Whatever he'd been about to say was upset by his clumsiness as he scrambled to clean up the mess.

"Sorry!" Millie lurched to help him catch the sack before it spilled everywhere, guilt coloring her expression now for having upset his concentration so much. Her hands joined his in sweeping up the grain where it had fallen, fingers brushing as she looked up at him.

Millie Mullen

Date: 2015-12-06 13:02 EST
"No, I'm sorry! It's my fault!" He scrambled to help her clean up the mess, belatedly realizing they were close together again, their fingers brushing against each other and their heads nearly colliding. When he looked up, he found she was right there looking back at him, and he paused a moment to lose himself in her gaze. What was his mother had told him again? Something about love at first sight' Was this what it felt like" All he knew was that his heart was racing and his hands were trembling, and it had nothing to do with wasted grain.

Shy though Millie was, those who knew her knew a girl who occasionally acted on impulse. Today, it seemed, was one of those days. As Nate looked into her eyes, she could feel her heart pounding in her chest, knowing it had more to do with him than any concern about spilled grain. Without giving herself a moment to think, she leaned closer, soft lips brushing his with tentative tenderness.

It wasn't the first kiss he'd ever shared with a girl - no, a woman - but it was the first kiss he'd shared in a very long time and with someone he felt a mutual attraction for. His lips lingered against hers a moment longer than might be prudent, heart beating hard in his chest. Something was stirring there, but whether it was just longing or something deeper, he wasn't quite sure. When he opened his eyes to find her looking into his, he went with the very first response that came into his mind, impulsive or not. Why didn't they get married, indeed" "Do you think you could be happy with someone like me, Millie?"

A tiny smile touched her lips, more evident in the glow of her eyes as they looked at one another. "I think so," she told him quietly. "Could you be happy with me, here?" Because that was the only part that was not negotiable - if he married her, he would have to come and live at the mill, though he would only be a mile from the Dugan farm.

"I think so," he echoed her own thoughts. He couldn't say for sure, but he thought he could contribute to the working of the mill and perhaps more importantly, help provide for her and her grandfather. The only problem was his brothers, and yet, he wouldn't be far from the farm if he was needed. "I reckon we should keep this to ourselves until after the social," he suggested. It would not only give them a chance to get to know each other better but to make sure it was what they both wanted.

The grain forgotten, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek, laughing happily. Who would have thought that a single meeting - admittedly engineered by something of a busybody - would result in such a happy moment' The decision was made, and Millie didn't feel any kind of regret or indecision. It felt right.

He laughed along with her, hoping he wouldn't disappoint her, but for some inexplicable reason, it felt right to him, too. "We should probably finish before the flour burns," he told her, blushing with embarrassment, though he couldn't help smiling beneath that blush. Maybe his mother had been right - maybe it didn't take a lifetime to get to know someone. Life was too short, after all. His parents' deaths had proved that much to be true.

"Oh, you're right!" Drawing back with a glowing smile, Millie snagged a brush to sweep up the fallen grain and put it back in the sack, ready to be poured once more. "There's not too much to go in that sack now. We'll have to cool the stones down before doing the third one."

Cool the stones down while things heated up between the two of them, it seemed, but he didn't say that. He only nodded and swept his hair back from his face again as he held the bag open for her.

Dropping her handful of grain into the sack, Millie eased back onto her feet, taking up the sack herself this time to let the remaining grain trickle down between the stones. Her method was a little different - she rested the sack on one knee, propped against the highest step of the platform, and used her hands to aim the trickle for the stones. A little awkward, perhaps, but it saved her shoulders from growing terribly sore.

He watched as she trickled the grain toward the stones using a different method. He clearly had a lot to learn. A thought occurred to him while he watched her and he couldn't keep it to himself any longer. "Do you think Brona set us up?" he asked, curiously. The thought hadn't really occurred to him before this, but it kind of made sense.

She glanced down at him, one hand catching the end of the sack as the last of the grain trickled free. "Maybe she was hoping?" she suggested, not willing to cast blame onto her friend, even if she did suspect her of meddling a little. "After all, you're going to be her brother. Maybe she wants to make sure someone will look after you, too."

"Or maybe she wants to get rid of me," he replied, though this turn of events wasn't an unpleasant one. He wondered just what Brona's motivations were, though he didn't suspect she had a mean bone in her body. He genuinely liked Brona and was happy to have her for a sister someday soon. "Would you do that for me?" he asked further, prompted by her statement. No one had ever offered to look after him before, not since his mother had died.

Millie chuckled, thumping down from the platform with a smile. "Brona's pretty straightforward," she pointed out. "If she wanted rid of you, she'd just say it." She met his eyes as he questioned her further, her shy smile just a little more confident in his presence now. "Of course I would," she told him. "Isn't that a part of being your girl?"

"I guess so," he replied, frowning back at her and stepping out of her way as she stepped down from the platform. "I mean, it's about taking care of each other, ain't it?" he asked in his imperfect way of phrasing things.

"Well, yeah." Her smile faltered a little. "I ....well, I always thought the woman did the looking after. I can cook and clean, and I'm strong, I'm not afraid of hard work," she offered earnestly. "And you can look after me, too. And ....and our family, someday."

"I've been looking after my brothers a long time," he told her, making a case for the fact that that didn't always have to be women's work. In fact, without a woman in their lives, they'd had very little choice to take care of each other, but even if there was, family was family and always would be. "I can cook and hunt and farm and ....I can protect you and your grandpa from trouble," he added, just for good measure, though he wasn't sure if any trouble ever visited here.

Her hand rose, hesitating just a moment before she touched his cheek. "We can take care of each other," she promised him quietly. "All of us." With a soft smile, she lurched close to touch another kiss to his lips. "If you pour the rest of that bucket over the stones, I'll go down and switch to a new sack."

At first, he thought she meant the two of them, but then it became clear that she was talking about his brothers, too, and maybe even Brona and her family and Millie's grandfather. Wasn't that what being a family was all about, after all? Anything he might have said was cut off by her kiss, stunned again by her openness and her warmth and by the way it made him feel inside. He wasn't sure how to describe it really, but he felt strangely hopeful. "Okay," he replied stupidly, once their lips parted. If she'd bewitched him, he hoped she never broke the spell.

The tip of her nose rubbed his as her smile warmed once again, and she whisked away, swinging herself down the steep stair to the lower level to do exactly as she had said she would. With only one more sack to go, and her grandfather knowing how long each one took to mill, they only had a finite amount of time together today, but perhaps Nate would come back tomorrow.

Millie Mullen

Date: 2015-12-06 13:03 EST
He hadn't asked the important questions yet, but he thought he would in time. When did she want him to come back" Would her grandfather be willing to hire him on permanently' Was there somewhere he could stay nearby, or should he just make the commute each day from the far" Of course, none of that really mattered if they got married, but he wanted her grandfather's approval for that, and he wouldn't get it without proving himself worthy first.

No doubt Brona was already planting suggestions in Old Man Green's mind as she worked on his leg and they gossiped back and forth, but if not, Millie was quite prepared to plant those suggestions herself. She adored her grandfather, and the feeling was mutual. She doubted he would ever deny her anything. The barest trickle of water made it down to the spout as Nate poured the bucket over the stones, most of it evaporating and taking the heat generated away in the process. Satisfied, she settled an empty sack beneath the spout, and headed back up the stairs.

He was still pouring water over the stones from the bucket when she rejoined him. "It's a lot of work, isn't it?" he asked, once again. "I reckon I can figure a few ways to make it easier," he told her, though it would take time and work and probably a little trial and error in the process.

She nodded, breathing out a huff of breath. "It's worse in summer or winter," she admitted. "In summer, it gets so dusty you can barely breathe, and in winter, you have to keep all the shutters closed and it gets stuffy enough to make most people pass out. But I like it, though," she confessed shyly. "Out here, no one tells me that I'm not being womanly when I'm hulking sacks around."

"We'll figure it out," he said, hopefully, an optimistic smile on his face. Teamwork was something he'd learned from Eli, and this was the perfect chance for him to make that put that skill to further use. "I think you're womanly," he added honestly and helpfully. Being a woman wasn't about wearing dresses and being afraid to get one's hands dirty, at least as far as Nate was concerned.

She blushed through her smile. "I'm glad you think so," she told him, as though his opinion in that area really was the only one that mattered. "You said something about building something?" She was genuinely curious to know what it was he was considering, and how it would make working the mill easier.

"Yeah," he replied, unsure how to explain what was going on in his head exactly. "Something that will sift the grain and only allow a little bit to trickle through to the stones at a time, without having to stand and pour it yourself." He shrugged as if he wasn't too sure of the idea yet, since it was only just starting to form in his mind. "I gotta think on it. Draw up some plans, see what I can come up with."

"Oh, that would be wonderful," Millie enthused. "Something you just pour the grain into right off the bat, and it does all the work" That'd be fantastic, Nate!" She let her smile broaden, truly excited by the idea of an addition to the mill that would make the work easier.

"Something like that, yeah," he replied, wondering why someone else hadn't thought of it sooner. Maybe they had, but just hadn't been able to sort out the mechanics of it or hadn't had the time to make it work. "It'll take time, but I think it might work."

"I'm sure it will work, with your mind behind it," she encouraged him, heaving the last sack from the floor over to the stones. "And Grandfather would like it, too. He'd be able to join in with working the mill more, if there was something like that, and I know he misses it."

"I can't imagine what it must be like for him," he said, as he reached for the sack, insisting on taking on the more rigorous part of the work. "Would you mind if I asked you a question?"

Allowing him to take the sack from her, Millie shook her head. "No, I don't mind," she assured him, absentmindedly sweeping up what was left on the floor with the brush. "I hope I can answer it properly for you."

The question he had in mind was a personal one, and he wasn't sure how she'd take it when he asked, so he tried to go as gently as he could. "I'm just wondering what happened to your parents, if you don't mind my asking," he said, hoping he hadn't been too blunt about it.

Her smile faded a little, but she wasn't upset by his curiosity. Most people who passed through were curious to know what had happened to put the old miller together with his granddaughter, after all. "It was bad luck," she told him softly. "When I was about eight or nine" We were traveling back home from visiting Grandpa here at the mill, and it was getting dark. We didn't see the pothole in the road until the wagon threw us, and the noise attracted the mutants. My papa hid me under the wagon and told me not to scream or make any noise. Last time I saw them, they were fighting the mutants. They didn't make it."

"Oh," he replied with a frown that mirrored her sadness. So, her story wasn't all that different from his own, then. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked," he told her, feeling a strange mixture of guilt and grief and sympathy for her pain. At least, she'd found a home here with her grandfather, but that was probably little comfort to a child who'd lost both her parents.

"We lived on a homestead, about three miles out," she told him, her pretty face sad in memory. "It shouldn't have been so dangerous, but then ....it isn't so dangerous now. The town's gotten bigger - back then, there weren't other farms around the mill, it was just on its own. The mutants didn't need to take risks to attack back then. It's too populated for them to survive attacking now."

"It's still pretty dangerous farther out," he pointed out, knowing from experience. "Eli's with the militia now, so he goes out on patrol." Nate frowned a little at the thought of that. "He wasn't back yet when we left," he said, obviously worried, though there were dozen reasons why he might not have returned yet. "We used to have a farm before ..." He broke off again, unsure if he should go on, not wanting to pour more salt in her wounds.

Stepping up onto the platform with him, Millie dared to wrap her arms about his waist, resting her cheek against his back. "I'm sorry about your parents," she told him softly. "No one should have to live through a loss like that."

She surprised him again with her sympathetic and gentle show of affection, but this time he wasn't startled by it. In fact, he found himself kind of liking the feel of her arms around his waist. Her hug was like a warm blanket meant just for him, and it stirred strange feelings inside him he'd never really known before. "Sorry about yours, too," he told her as he shook the grain out to trickle between the millstones. "I done a lot of bad things in my life, Millie," he admitted guiltily, though most of those bad things had involved killing mutants. "They can't help what they are and what they do. It's 'cause of the war, yanno. From the beforetime. It made them what they are."

"If it's a choice between them dying or you, I'd choose them," she told him fiercely. "I hope they don't have minds, 'cause if they do, it means they attack us on purpose. Not just for meat, but for sport. And that scares me. You're not a bad man for helping to keep us safe, Nate. You're not a bad man at all."

"Maybe," he admitted. "I hope not." He turned quiet, his conscience battling with his sense of right and wrong. He knew it had been wrong to force Brona to help his brother, and yet, it had all turned out all right in the end. Did the ends really justify the means"

Gently releasing him, Millie eased away again, glancing downstairs to make sure the flour was falling into the sack. "I'm sure you're not a bad man," she assured him. "If you were, Brona wouldn't have brought you here at all, would she?"

Millie Mullen

Date: 2015-12-06 13:03 EST
"I reckon not, but you wanna hear something crazy' I mostly feel sorry for them," he admitted, finding himself missing her arms around his waist, though he said nothing of it. "Wish there was another way but I guess there ain't." He'd mentioned this to his brothers before, and Eli had always chastised him for him, claiming he was too soft-hearted for his own good.

"Maybe someone will think of a way, someday," she said thoughtfully. "It won't be me. I don't have the kind of mind that thinks of clever things, not like you."

"You have your own strengths, Millie. Everyone does," he told her, deciding to try her method and propping the sack against his knee to give his arms a rest. What those strengths were would make themselves known soon enough, he thought, though he already had a few thoughts about that.

"You're very sweet to say so," she smiled, not sure she believed him. Oh, she could keep house and cook and mend and tend the mill, but she didn't see that as a strength. It was just what she did. "I'm not brave or clever like you and Brona. I'm just ....me. Too tall and too strong for most everybody to handle."

"You ain't too tall, and there's no such thing as too strong. You think I'd rather have a weakling for a wife?" he blurted, without thinking. "I mean ....I like you fine just the way you are."

"I'm not sweet and delicate like the other girls in town," she pointed out, unconsciously encouraging him to boost her self-esteem. She didn't mean to, but no one had blurted out a defense against her own comments about herself before, and she found she liked hearing him tell her how he liked her. "It's not that I'm not happy with myself. I'm just not like everyone else."

"What makes you think I want someone who's sweet and delicate or like everyone else?" he countered, with a lift of his brows. "Maybe that's why I like you ....because you're different."

She blushed again, quietly delighted with his reply. She'd never really fitted in with her peer group - even Brona was a few years her junior - but she felt like she fitted with Nate. It was a rare feeling. "I think that's why I like you, too," she told him, one eye on the trickle pouring from the sack in his hands. "You're not like anyone I've ever met."

"Yeah, well ....I ain't smart like Cody or brave like Eli," he reminded her again. Though he wasn't book-smart, he obviously had a knack for mechanics, even if he didn't realize it. And as far as courage was concerned,courage without wisdom was just reckless stupidity. It had often been Nate who had been the voice of reason among the three brothers.

"But it's not Cody or Eli who're taking me to the social," she pointed out with a sweet smile. "You don't gotta be book-smart or good with a gun to impress me. I think you're plenty impressive, just the way you are."

"I guess we compliment each other then," he told her with a smile as he balanced the bag of grain against his thigh. It was a big word for Nate to be using, but he wasn't so stupid that he never picked up a thing or two from his younger brother's books. He just hoped his brothers would be supportive of his decision to work at the mill. It wasn't Cody who worried him so much as Eli. As the eldest brother, Eli had a way of running things, but this was Nate's decision, and Eli was just going to have to accept it.

Millie's smile widened as she looked up at him. She was smiling more in his company than she had with anyone else. Was this what her papa had meant when he'd told her that sometimes you just know" She hoped so.

A knock on the door below drew her attention downward as Brona's voice made itself known. "Hello?"

Nate was at risk of losing himself to Millie's eyes and her smile and forgetting what he was supposed to be doing, until Brona's voice interrupted and broke the spell. He blinked out of his reverie, blushing a little and turning to pay closer attention to his work before he caused another accident. "Hey, Brona! We're up here!" he called back, a knowing and slightly shy smile turned to Millie.

Startled by the sound of Brona's voice, Millie was blushing again as she returned Nate's smile, a-glow with the unspoken promise between them. As Brona came onto the same level with them, she looked back and forth between them. No one could mistake those smiles for anything but what they were. Her own smile erupted into a grin. "So ....when's the wedding?"

Nate ducked his head, his face flushed pink with embarrassment as Brona found them out, though he was still smiling. He might have accused her of setting them up, if he wasn't so embarrassed to have been caught in her snare. "I asked her to the social," he admitted, hoping Brona would let them have that before she started harassing them into a wedding.

"And she said ...?" Brona turned her teasing grin onto Millie, who rolled her eyes and swatted at the young healer with the brush in her hand.

"She said yes," she informed Brona, that shy smile back on her face.

Brona clapped, fiendishly pleased with the way her plan had fallen out. "That's wonderful!" she declared, bouncing on her toes. "Oh, and your grandfather's seriously thinking about hiring on some help, Millie. I can't think where that idea came from." Innocence was not her best look, especially in the face of helpless laughter from the young woman in question.

"You had this planned all along, Brona," Nate said, realizing it was true. It was not a question, nor an accusation, but a simple statement of fact. He didn't bother to point out that they'd already talked about him working here, as it all was still a little uncertain, until she got her grandfather's permission, but he had no reason to think he wouldn't agree to it. Millie clearly needed help, and Nate was more than willing to do it. He even had some ideas about how to make the process easier.

Leaning comfortably against the wall, Brona shrugged one shoulder innocently. "Maybe I was hoping," was all she was going to admit to, but she was glad Nate and Millie seemed to have hit it off quite so well. "You look like you've been having a good time yourselves."

Millie bit her lip, glancing at Nate with a fond look in her eyes. "Brona Dugan, you are impossible."

"When is your wedding?" Nate turned the tables on her with his question, as he finished off shaking the last of the grain out of the bag, watching to make sure it went down into the stones the way it was supposed to.

"After Mahon gets home and before the social," Brona answered him easily enough, moving out of the way as Millie jogged down the steps to whisk the last of the flour into the sack that was waiting for it. "Why, when's yours?"

"Before the social?" Nate echoed, with a puzzled look on his face. That didn't leave them much time for planning, and her brother wasn't even back from the valley yet. Eli wasn't back yet either, which worried Nate a little. Though he knew his brother was quite capable of taking care of himself, the worry was plain to see on his handsome face.

Millie Mullen

Date: 2015-12-06 13:04 EST
"Hey." Brona pushed from her lean to touch his shoulder. She knew what he was thinking. "If he isn't back by the time we are, we'll go to the militia house and tell them. They'll send out a search party. Okay?"

"He's never gone out on his own before," Nate said, though that wasn't quite true. The brothers had been rotating patrols between themselves for years, but they always watched each other's backs and looked out for each other. It just wasn't like Eli to disappear without a trace, unless he'd run into trouble of some kind.

"He'll be fine," Brona tried to assure him. "Trust me, he'll have bedded down at one of the homesteads safely overnight, and he'll be back by the time we are. If he isn't, I'll do everything I can to find him. I promise."

"If he's not back by the time we are, me and Cody'll go look for him," he said, not taking no for an answer on that. If anyone else wanted to go along, that was fine by him, but Eli was his brother, and it was up to him and Cody to make sure he was safe.

"But right now ....you need to go and smooch Millie goodbye," she reminded him with a gentle nudge and a smile. "I can get the sacks into the wagon. Can't leave her without a loving kiss, you know." In full view of the house, with any luck.

His thoughts turned once again away from Eli to that of Millie, and he smiled. "I like her a lot," he told her. "Thanks, Brona." He leaned forward to touch a kiss to her cheek in gratitude and friendship.

"Always happy to help," she grinned to him, winking as she turned to head down the stairs and claim their flour.

Millie was fidgeting by the door, the two sacks tied up tight by her feet. She didn't want Nate to go, but she knew she had to convince her grandfather that he was the right man for the job.

Nate followed Brona down the stairs, turning quiet again, his excitement at having met Millie mingled with his worry about his brother and over what Millie's grandfather might think of him, but if there was one thing he'd learned it was that life was uncertain at best and worrying didn't solve anything.

As Brona took up the sacks, Millie moved to help her, shooed away by one imperious hand. "Oh, no no no," Brona assured her friend. "I can handle this. You handle him." She winked at the older woman, skipping out of the mill to the tune of Millie's shy giggles once again.

The miller's granddaughter looked up at Nate, her cheeks bright with her blush. "H-handle you?"

"I can take those!" Nate interjected as the two women wrangled over who would haul the sacks of flour. It didn't really surprise him that Brona had won that battle. "I reckon she's having fun gloating," he remarked with a slightly shy smile.

Millie giggled softly, tucking her fidgeting hands behind her back. "It's good to see her laugh so much," she admitted, watching as Brona manhandled the sacks toward the wagon. "W-will you come back?" she asked Nate softly as the water wheel finally came to a halt, stilling the loud noise of the mill. "Tomorrow, or-or the day after?"

"Don't worry, Millie," he assured her, sliding his arms along her arms until he pulled her hands into his as he stepped closer. "I'll be back. I just gotta find out what happened to Eli. He's my brother," he explained, that look of concern on his face again. She didn't seem to have any siblings, but hopefully, she understood that family was important to him. He owed his elder brother that much.

With her hands caught in his, she met his eyes with an understanding nod. No, she didn't have siblings, but she did understand. Family was important to her, too. "I know," she said quietly. "I think I'll miss you, though."

"I'll be back," he assured her again, his voice softening as he pulled her closer. "Promise." He wasn't much of a ladies' man, as far as he was concerned, but it seemed he knew the right thing to do when presented with it, taking her into his arms and pressing a kiss to her lips that proved he meant what he said.

And right there, in full view of the house she shared with her grandfather, Millie melted into Nate's arms, sharing that kiss tenderly as her arms wrapped about him. On the porch, Old Man Green saw it all, a speculative look in his eyes. He'd never seen his granddaughter so open with anyone, much less any man, nor so soft for anyone but him. His lips quirked into a knowing smirk. So little Brona had been right. Maybe the mill wouldn't be leaving the family, after all.

((Brona's a successful little busybody, isn't she? :grin: ))