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“Now, m’ lord?”

Adam took three large paces to his right. “Now.”

One of the top branches began to quake, and apples tumbled to the ground. Adam flinched as they bounced. The bruising would be significant, but thankfully, that mattered little in the juice extraction process.

“I think that’s all of ’em, m’ lord.” Weston’s voice was accompanied by a loud rustling, and moments later, his thin face appeared through the leaves.

“Excellent,” Adam said. “Come on down and gather these. We shall build a new tump near the shed. Henry should have removed the old one by now.”

The rustling increased, and soon Weston’s legs appeared on the lowest branch. Adam pulled out his pocket watch, glanced at it, and frowned. The other two village boys should have been here by now. Weston, Isaac, and Duncan had been working in the orchard for a week, and although they had made significant inroads into bringing in the crop, there was still a great deal to be done.

Weston jumped to the ground and began collecting the dropped apples. With the boy safely out of the tree, Adam started back toward the shed. If Isaac and Duncan were not there, Henry would need his help loading the mill with the apples from their first tump.

Adam heard the barrow’s squeaky wheels before he reached the edge of the trees. Henry was pushing the small handcart from the shed to the tump. He had already pulled back the layer of straw to expose the apples beneath, and a glance at the diminished pile told Adam this was not Henry’s first load.

“Any sign of our workers?” Adam asked.

His gardener looked up from his bent position over the apples. “Not that I’ve seen.” He waved his gnarled hand over the fruit in a vain attempt to whoosh away the circling bees. “Don’t know what’s keepin’ ’em. They both knew we were loadin’ the mill today.”

Adam looked toward the house. There was no sign of anyone approaching.

“Very well. We shall make do without them for the time being.” He joined Henry at the barrow and began loading apples into it.

“We’ll be needin’ Oliver to bring out Molly after this load’s delivered, m’ lord.”

Adam nodded even as his anxiety inched upward. This would be Molly’s first time pulling the millstone with a trough full of fruit beneath. And it would be their first indication of whether all her practice sessions had been worth Oliver’s time.

Pushing his doubts aside, Adam continued piling applies into the barrow and allowed his thoughts to turn to Miss Hadford. She had been at the forefront of his mind since their meeting at the Charwell Park orchard. No. She had been at the forefront of his mind far longer than that, but his conversation with her there had offered him new hope. That she was willing to believe the best of him despite all opinions to the contrary still astounded him. And it made him wish that he could exhibit similar confidence in someone outside of his sister and his small circle of loyal servants. The thought of placing his trust in a relative stranger was unnerving at best, and yet, if anyone could help him afford such a change, perhaps it was Miss Hadford.

“That should do it, m’ lord.”

With a start, Adam realized that the barrow was near to overflowing and Henry was standing, holding the handles.

Brushing the dust off his hands, Adam rose to his feet. “I’ll have Oliver bring Molly over, then.”

Henry nodded. “The first two loads are washed an’ ready. It won’t take long to put this batch through the water bath.”

“Very well.”

Henry started the barrow in motion toward the shed. The wheels squealed in protest, but Adam barely noticed. He was already en route to the stables.

Oliver had the plow horse ready in minutes, and by the time he and Adam walked her over to the cart shed, Henry had filled the mill’s trough with washed apples and had tipped the apples from the barrow into the water bath. Molly sniffed the air as Oliver attached her harness to the mill pole.

“Do you smell them apples, Molly?” Oliver cinched the last strap and slapped her rump affectionately. “I daresay you can ’ave one if you do yer job well today.”

Adam stood beside the water barrel, his arms folded, watching. “Whenever you are ready, Oliver,” he said.

Oliver clicked his tongue and tugged on the harness. Molly took a step forward. The millstone shifted.

“Come on, girl.” Oliver tugged a little harder, and Molly moved another two steps. “That’s it.”

Slowly, the wheel began to move. A crunching sound filled the shed as the stone smashed the apples beneath it. Molly strained, building up momentum until she reached a gentle walk, and the rich scent of sun-warmed apples filled the room.

Oliver grinned. “She’s got it, m’ lord.”

“I reckon she’s just chasin’ that smell,” Henry said.

Adam chuckled and picked up the long stick leaning against the wall. “You may be right, but whatever is motivating her, let us hope it continues.”