Mason doesn’t trust me yet with the other cows since they’re occasionally temperamental or not as gentle. But at least I can help with some of the morning chores.
When I’m done, I wash up and make eggs, bacon, and toast for breakfast. Mason polishes off his plate as usual and then finishes mine when I pass it to him after I’m full.
Mason earns more credits than Lorraine does, since everyone in the village needs milk, butter, and cheese. So I’ve been able to buy any food I’ve wanted for our meals for these two weeks.
Monthly credits can’t be saved beyond the month they’re given, so I’ve taken the credits that Mason designated for food and divided them up for the rest of the month.
We’re going to be able to eat really well, at least by the standards I’m used to.
He also said I could use any extra credits we have left this month to buy a new pair of work boots since mine are so old the soles are almost worn through.
With that and what Annabelle gave me, it’s felt like I’ve been living in the lap of luxury lately.
After breakfast, I wash up and change into my good day dress, braiding my hair and feeling prettier than normal. My cheeks and lips are pink, and my eyes look very blue.
Maybe it’s petty, but I’m excited to go to the market and sit behind Mason’s stall instead of fetching and carrying for Lorraine and Aria. And I want the village to see that I’m more than a drudge.
I feel almost special, and I can’t remember if I’ve ever felt that way before.
Even as a child, Annabelle’s prettiness, courage, and bright spirit always drew most of the attention. I never resented it because I believed—and still do—that she deserves to shine.
But maybe in a very small way, I can shine too.
Mason isn’t excited about the trip to the market like I am. In fact, he’s in a grumpy mood about it. As we’re preparing to go, he responds to my questions with only wordless grunts, and he seems impatient with my attempts to help him load his cart.
Maybe he doesn’t like market days. I didn’t notice it lastweek, but I definitely do today. Hopefully that’s all it is. I don’t think I’ve done anything to annoy him, but I search my memory for any slipup as we walk toward the village square.
It’s the chilliest day yet this autumn, and I had to put on a sweater over my pretty dress. So the combination of Mason’s mood and feeling rather frumpy in the oversized sweater dims my excitement a bit.
“Maybe,” I say as we approach the square, “if I can learn how to do everything, then you won’t always have to come to market days.”
He blinks at me. “What do you mean?”
“I just seems like you don’t like them. So I thought I could do them once I learn everything. That way you could stay and work on the farm.”
“What makes you think I don’t like market days?”
“Oh. I don’t know.” I swallow hard. “It just seems like… like you don’t.” I’m not brave enough to admit he’s been grumpy with me.
“I don’t mind ’em.”
“Okay. Then why…”
He seems to understand even though I don’t finish the question. “Sorry if I’m in a mood.”
“Is everything okay? It’s not… it’s not me, is it? Did I do something wrong?”
“Course not. It’s not you. Just… haven’t been sleeping good.”
“Why not? Is there something I can do to help?”
For just a second, I see something in his face that makes me believe thereissomething I can do, but it disappears before I can fully process it, and then I wonder if I imagined it. “It’s nothing. You didn’t do anything.”
“Okay. Because things have been good for me, and I want them to be good for you too.”
“They’re good,” he mumbles, not meeting my eyes now. “They’re real good.”
Market is fine once we get there. Last week, Mason showed me how he sets things up and how to process the purchases, so I’m comfortable helping him today. And half the village stops by to greet us and find out any gossip we’re willing to share.
