Evan grunted as he read the evening paper, a cup of coffee close at hand, a nine-month old boy propped against one knee. He had never prided himself much on keeping abreast of current events. So long as his family was safe and the farm was well tended, that was all that mattered. He was a quiet man of action, not words, content to spend his days working on the farm and his nights with his wife and son. As far as Evan was concerned, his life was perfect; only one tiny thing that was missing and that was the daughter he'd left back home in Texas. Something in the paper had caught his attention, something he was obviously scoffing at.
Evenings were the quiet time at the Brambles, even at this time of year, when they had extra hands living on the farm to help with harvesting and brewing. Most of these, however, spent their evenings out in the second barn, which had been made up as living quarters. It was warm and dry, and between them, Marin and Jodie had made it more than comfortable enough for the itinerant help to bed down with ease. The main house was the domain of the family, and those close to the family. Jodie and Bill, with their son Daniel and his wife, Carla, tended to take over the living room once all chores were done, leaving the kitchen the private space for Marin, Evan, and Caleb.
Now that she was no longer on lock down as a new mommy, Marin was finally allowed to do some chores of her own, and while Evan read, she was finishing wiping down the kitchen surfaces, taking pride in her home for the first time in years. She glanced up as her husband grunted, smiling at the sight of Caleb gumming on his favorite stuffed dragon. "Something interesting in there, love?"
Evan had never quite gotten used to the idea of dragons being real, even when he saw them fly overhead on their way to God only knew where. To guard their hoard of treasure, Evan thought. At least, that's what it always said in the story books. He had once wondered aloud if virgins were sacrificed on a regular basis here to appease the dragons, but Marin had only laughed and tried to explain that these dragons were mostly friendly ones. Mostly. That didn't do much to give him any comfort. "Somethin' about a new bus service to....hell, I can't even pronounce it. Ar-te-re..." he started, fumbling with the word. Having had no formal education, he wasn't the best of readers, but he did well enough to get by. He knew what a bus was, sort of - a horseless coach powered by some kind of engine that was beyond his reckoning - but this one claimed to be connected to some other world in the stars somewhere. Evan found it too hard for his simple brain to grasp.
Patiently, Marin waited to hear him spell the word out as he fumbled with it. It hadn't taken long for her to realize the difficulty her husband had with the written word, but she'd never drawn attention to it, preferring to correct as though it was a completely usual, everyday happening. She didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable with it. "Artrexis?" she suggested, making a guess at a word she couldn't see. "Oh ....oh, you're talking about the new shuttle service to Artrexis Minor." She smiled, wiping her hands dry and hanging the damp towel over the handle to the oven.
"Why's the X sound like an S?" he queried, as befuddled by the spelling and pronunciation of the word as he was with the concept of a stellar bus service itself. "Why ain't words just spelled like they sound" Be a lot less confusing that way." Fortunately, what Evan lacked in book learning, he more than made up for in other ways. No one could beat his skill with a horse or a shotgun, and he was as hard-working as the best of their hired hands, not to mention his endearing dedication to Marin and their baby boy. He set the paper down on the table and turned his attention to the child on his knee who was drooling all over his stuffed dragon. Evan thought he should have had a horse, not a dragon. A horse, in his opinion, was a far more practical choice, and only needed a warm place to live and a bucket of oats to keep him happy, rather than a hoard of treasure and sacrificial virgins.
"Well, it doesn't really sound like an S, it just appears that way because it's followed by an I and an S." Marin shrugged; she wasn't a fount of knowledge by any means, but she did try to explain some things as best she could. She moved to sit down with her husband and son, laughing softly when Caleb turned his gummy smile onto Evan and promptly bonked his father on the nose with the by now very damp dragon. "Hey, trouble, no violence," she teased, poking at the little boy, who giggled and bonked his father again.
That would have been quite enough, were it not for the fact that Caleb then followed this up by declaring, "Mama!" while grinning up at Evan, which sent Marin off into peals of giggles.
Evan took the bonking like a champ, glaring back at his son, who he thought for a moment was doing it on purpose, which he probably was, but only because he wanted attention. "Da-da," Evan corrected, slow in his enunciation of the word. The boy was a bit too young to be spouting much more than baby babble. He remembered his Maggie when she was that age, and it brought a small frown to his face and an ache to his heart, though he didn't mention it. He loved his life at the Brambles and he adored his wife and child. Marin had, for all intents and purposes, given him a new lease on life, literally, but there would always be a place in his heart that ached for the daughter he'd left back in Texas. "Why put extra letters into a word that you can't even hear?" he argued, in his slow Texas drawl, though he really didn't care all that much. "Think he's too young fer a pony?" he mused.
"Yes, I think he's too young for a pony," was his wife's answer to that, spoken with a resigned smile. She knew she wasn't going to be able to hold off on Caleb having a mount of his very own for long, but was hoping she'd manage it just long enough that the boy learned how to walk on his own first. She saw Evan's frown, of course she did. They had been together nearly eighteen months, and in that time, she'd learned to read her handsome, quiet husband's moods accurately. He missed his daughter dreadfully, and yet he wouldn't countenance any thought of sending someone to bring her and her foster family here, even for a short visit. Marin was at her wit's end trying to think of something he might agree to, something that would bring Maggie back into his sphere once again. No matter what she suggested, he shot it down, to the point where she was beginning to suspect that he was actually afraid of seeing his little girl again.
Evenings were the quiet time at the Brambles, even at this time of year, when they had extra hands living on the farm to help with harvesting and brewing. Most of these, however, spent their evenings out in the second barn, which had been made up as living quarters. It was warm and dry, and between them, Marin and Jodie had made it more than comfortable enough for the itinerant help to bed down with ease. The main house was the domain of the family, and those close to the family. Jodie and Bill, with their son Daniel and his wife, Carla, tended to take over the living room once all chores were done, leaving the kitchen the private space for Marin, Evan, and Caleb.
Now that she was no longer on lock down as a new mommy, Marin was finally allowed to do some chores of her own, and while Evan read, she was finishing wiping down the kitchen surfaces, taking pride in her home for the first time in years. She glanced up as her husband grunted, smiling at the sight of Caleb gumming on his favorite stuffed dragon. "Something interesting in there, love?"
Evan had never quite gotten used to the idea of dragons being real, even when he saw them fly overhead on their way to God only knew where. To guard their hoard of treasure, Evan thought. At least, that's what it always said in the story books. He had once wondered aloud if virgins were sacrificed on a regular basis here to appease the dragons, but Marin had only laughed and tried to explain that these dragons were mostly friendly ones. Mostly. That didn't do much to give him any comfort. "Somethin' about a new bus service to....hell, I can't even pronounce it. Ar-te-re..." he started, fumbling with the word. Having had no formal education, he wasn't the best of readers, but he did well enough to get by. He knew what a bus was, sort of - a horseless coach powered by some kind of engine that was beyond his reckoning - but this one claimed to be connected to some other world in the stars somewhere. Evan found it too hard for his simple brain to grasp.
Patiently, Marin waited to hear him spell the word out as he fumbled with it. It hadn't taken long for her to realize the difficulty her husband had with the written word, but she'd never drawn attention to it, preferring to correct as though it was a completely usual, everyday happening. She didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable with it. "Artrexis?" she suggested, making a guess at a word she couldn't see. "Oh ....oh, you're talking about the new shuttle service to Artrexis Minor." She smiled, wiping her hands dry and hanging the damp towel over the handle to the oven.
"Why's the X sound like an S?" he queried, as befuddled by the spelling and pronunciation of the word as he was with the concept of a stellar bus service itself. "Why ain't words just spelled like they sound" Be a lot less confusing that way." Fortunately, what Evan lacked in book learning, he more than made up for in other ways. No one could beat his skill with a horse or a shotgun, and he was as hard-working as the best of their hired hands, not to mention his endearing dedication to Marin and their baby boy. He set the paper down on the table and turned his attention to the child on his knee who was drooling all over his stuffed dragon. Evan thought he should have had a horse, not a dragon. A horse, in his opinion, was a far more practical choice, and only needed a warm place to live and a bucket of oats to keep him happy, rather than a hoard of treasure and sacrificial virgins.
"Well, it doesn't really sound like an S, it just appears that way because it's followed by an I and an S." Marin shrugged; she wasn't a fount of knowledge by any means, but she did try to explain some things as best she could. She moved to sit down with her husband and son, laughing softly when Caleb turned his gummy smile onto Evan and promptly bonked his father on the nose with the by now very damp dragon. "Hey, trouble, no violence," she teased, poking at the little boy, who giggled and bonked his father again.
That would have been quite enough, were it not for the fact that Caleb then followed this up by declaring, "Mama!" while grinning up at Evan, which sent Marin off into peals of giggles.
Evan took the bonking like a champ, glaring back at his son, who he thought for a moment was doing it on purpose, which he probably was, but only because he wanted attention. "Da-da," Evan corrected, slow in his enunciation of the word. The boy was a bit too young to be spouting much more than baby babble. He remembered his Maggie when she was that age, and it brought a small frown to his face and an ache to his heart, though he didn't mention it. He loved his life at the Brambles and he adored his wife and child. Marin had, for all intents and purposes, given him a new lease on life, literally, but there would always be a place in his heart that ached for the daughter he'd left back in Texas. "Why put extra letters into a word that you can't even hear?" he argued, in his slow Texas drawl, though he really didn't care all that much. "Think he's too young fer a pony?" he mused.
"Yes, I think he's too young for a pony," was his wife's answer to that, spoken with a resigned smile. She knew she wasn't going to be able to hold off on Caleb having a mount of his very own for long, but was hoping she'd manage it just long enough that the boy learned how to walk on his own first. She saw Evan's frown, of course she did. They had been together nearly eighteen months, and in that time, she'd learned to read her handsome, quiet husband's moods accurately. He missed his daughter dreadfully, and yet he wouldn't countenance any thought of sending someone to bring her and her foster family here, even for a short visit. Marin was at her wit's end trying to think of something he might agree to, something that would bring Maggie back into his sphere once again. No matter what she suggested, he shot it down, to the point where she was beginning to suspect that he was actually afraid of seeing his little girl again.