felt really good to hear someone else say it.
“You’re home early. Is everything okay?” His praise had given her enough courage to ask the question.
“For us, yes. We’re just fine.”
She liked that, too. Whether he thought it was easier or because he had picked up on her need for it, Adam often reassured her that everything was okay. His words did not make it so, obviously, but they still helped give her a sense of security.
Adam took off his hat, and wiped his hand across his brow. “I’m home because Jonas Miller came out to see me. He found me in the fields.”
“Jonas Miller? I haven’t met him yet, have I?”
“No. He’s another neighbor. A couple of farms out from the Potters.”
“Oh. Why did he come see you today? Isn’t he as busy as you are?” Sorrow crossed over Adam’s face, and Millie’s sense of unease grew. Adam did not come home in the middle of the day to have a simple conversation.
“No, he’s not. Not anymore at least.”
“What does that mean?”
“He’s giving up. Selling his farm and moving to Kansas City. Going to try to find some work there.”
“I don’t understand. He waited until the growing season, until he had paid for seeds and done the work to plant them, to decide he didn’t want to be a farmer?” Her tone gave away her bewilderment, but she was struggling to understand. Millie loathed being in situations she didn’t understand.
Adam looked at the kids, smiling at their antics as Gene pretended to be a chicken and chased a shrieking Caty. “This has been coming on for some time now,” he explained. “With the drought last year, Jonas used up all his savings to have a go at putting in the crops this year.”
“So, why is he quitting?”
Adam huffed out a small breath. He looked almost apologetic. “He’s thinking that this year will be a repeat of last year. He found a seller who wants the farm right away, crops and all, and he took the offer. Hopes to find better work in the city.”
Spots danced in Millie’s vision, and she sat down on the steps. “Why does Mr. Miller think that this year is going to be a repeat of last year?”
Adam sat down next to her on the step. “Because it’s looking like it might. We haven’t had a good soaker in months. Spring is usually a rainy, muddy time.”
“It has been raining,” Millie argued.
Adam shrugged. “More like drizzling. We’ve been getting damp, not drenched.”
“So, you’re going to lose all the crops? Again? Everything is just going to die?” How could that be? He went out and worked every single day. Why would Adam do that if all of his hard work was going to dry up and die? And why hadn’t she known that there was a drought in Kansas last year? That it had been too dry already this spring?
Adam moved to kneel on the step below her, his body slightly in front of hers. Facing her. “It’s okay.”
The man kept saying that. Adam had a very different definition of okay than Millie did, that was for sure.
“That’s why I have the cattle and horses. They will sustain us if we have another bad harvest of crops. Plus, the weather is unpredictable. Just because it’s been dry so far doesn’t mean there will be another drought.”
“Why?”
“Why?” Adam sounded confused now. Good.
“Why do you do it? Farm? Why not just have the ranch? I don’t understand why you would spend so much time and energy on such a risky endeavor.”
Understanding flashed across his face. “I do it because I’m a farmer. I enjoy the cattle and horses, but I’m meant to be a farmer. I’ve always known it. Planting. Tending. Harvesting. It all feels so right, Millie. I’m a farmer.” Adam took his hat off his head and brushed it against his thigh. He was looking in the distance, but his voice was still steady. Almost imploring. “You’re a farmer’s wife.”
Millie had no response to that. She certainly wasn’t in a position to order him around. To change anything about their circumstances.
Adam stood up. “I’m sorry I upset you. I didn’t mean to. And we can talk about this in more detail, if you want. But, later. Jonas came to ask for my help with fixing and loading some things as he packs up his belongings. That’s why I came home. I need to get my tools and head out to his place. He’s waiting for me.”
Millie stood up, too. “It’s fine, Adam. We’re fine. Will you be home for supper?”
“For that stew I smell? Absolutely.”
Millie nodded and straightened her apron. No way out but forward.
Adam said goodbye to the children, gathered his tools and left.
Millie decided to finish the section of her garden that she’d started. That was the next task. That was all she needed to focus on right now. But, this time when Millie looked at her vegetable patch, she didn’t see the promise of a bounty to come. No. She saw her future. So fragile and capable of being destroyed by a single whim of man or nature.
Not just her future. Her child’s future. And that of the two children she was quickly growing to love and claim as her own.
* * *
It was dark by the time Adam returned home that evening. Jonas had needed more help than he’d expected, but Adam hadn’t wanted to leave the man to finish on his own. Adam opened the front door and walked inside, uncertain of what his reception might be.
In the month since he had been married, life had been quite good. They had fallen into an easy routine, and his children were thriving. Today’s discussion was the first bump since their conversation about her meeting the children.
His new wife was very reserved and Adam did not understand everything that Millie kept hidden from him, but he knew she was afraid of the future. That was immensely logical to Adam’s mind. What little he knew about Millie’s past combined with the nature of being a woman in this world spoke volumes about her fear. She had been homeless. Penniless. Alone. She was afraid of being that again.
Adam looked around the room, hoping to see Millie and the kids waiting for him. But it was empty. Disappointment warred with frustration. Adam didn’t want tension anywhere in his home or marriage.
A glance in the kitchen showed the stew still being kept warm. That was something. He checked in on the kids, satisfied to see them tucked in and sleeping. Then, he walked to Millie’s closed bedroom door. Should he knock, see if she wanted to continue their conversation from earlier? She had been upset. Worried about drought and the future. And he had had to leave before he could soothe her fears. Adam felt bad for that, but she needed to learn that these things were part of life on a farm. And, she had married a farmer.
Adam moved his ear closer to the door when he heard a noise from inside. He didn’t want to intrude on Millie’s privacy or force a conversation if she wasn’t ready, but something about that sound set his nerves on edge. He heard the noise again.
Millie was getting sick.
Adam rapped on the door. “Millie, it’s Adam. I’m coming inside.” He probably should have waited until she gave him permission. But, Adam heard the sound of Millie retching again and refused to stand by and simply listen.
He opened the door and strode inside. Millie was sitting in the rocking chair, still wearing her dress and apron from earlier. Her hair was coming out of its bun as she bent over a chamber pot held on her lap. He walked over and crouched down beside her.
“Adam, you should go. You don’t—” Millie stopped speaking as she got sick again.
Adam couldn’t be here and not touch her. Not try to comfort her. He reached