into the kitchen, into the welcome of his wide grin, into a normal day. We did the same chores in the same order. Same cows to milk, same chickens to feed, same pitchfork for the manure. Same red dirt underfoot. But she was now he. The world seemed surreal in its placid continuity while, in me, tectonic, dizzying shifts took place.
I could almost taste the strange irony of my desire. For her. For him.
After the morning milking, we finished sawing the fall logs, a job that we had started with Roy. Sawing the thicker log was a two-person job. We didn’t talk much. All I had were questions. The same questions I had had all along. There were, I was sure, no more answers now than there had been when I found him. I felt drained, stunned, my skin stretched over nerves held together only by routine. The noise and effort of sawing offered a small antidote.
He took over the splitting and stacking when we finished the sawing. Through the open barn doors, I watched him while I cleared the manure and lay down fresh hay. He circled the stump we used as a chopping block, then swung the maul in a practice swing. He shook his head, then stepped back farther from the stump and swung again. Rocking back on his heels slightly, then forward, just as Addie used to do, he swung again. The maul landed dead-center and he laughed.
In the afternoon we stopped for lunch. Adam noticed the healed cut, a thin red line at the base of my thumb as I handed him a sandwich. He touched my wrist. “What happened?”
I pointed to the shelf, “The cookie jar, I smashed it against the wall when I found it empty. I hadn’t found your note yet. I cut myself cleaning it up.”
I smelled the grassy, fresh-mown odor of his sweat. The warmth of his touch lingered on my hand. “I need to take you down to meet Momma and Daddy. I want to let them know you’re here. The sooner they meet the new hired help, the better, I think.”
We walked to the mill-village, cutting through the woods where I had played as a child. To cross the creek, we walked single-file over a narrow fallen tree. Halfway across, I heard, above the soft burble of the creek, a single, crisp chime, clear as the water behind me. I turned to look, almost slipping on the slick log. Adam grabbed my elbow, to steady me, and grinned sheepishly at me.
“I know it’s you.” I continued across the creek and down the path.
Otherwise, we were quiet. The sun shone through the sparse canopy of late winter. With him behind me on the narrow path, I could imagine that nothing had changed, that I would see Addie if I glanced over my shoulder.
We reached the edge of the mill-village and my self-consciousness immediately returned. I felt naked, aware of him by my side. We waved to the old lady who lived in the first house. Her little granddaughter, sitting in the porch swing, waved back, but the old woman continued her sweeping without noticing us.
Momma and Daddy were alone at the table when we arrived, a pot of pinto beans and a plate of corn bread between them. They stood when they saw Adam.
“Momma, Daddy, this is . . .”
“Adam. I’m Adam Hope. Pleased to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Roe.” He held his hand out. Daddy shook his hand and nodded.
Momma’s eyes were wide with surprise. “My, it is nice to meet you, Adam. Sorry, y’all are missing Evelyn’s sister, Rita, she’s off with some friends,” she said as she took Adam’s hand. She motioned for me to get more plates and forks and returned her attention to Adam.
“Y’all are just in time for supper! Sit down.”
“Thank you, ma’am. Sorry to barge in like this. I’m from Kentucky. I came to Clarion looking for work.”
“Are you a good mechanic?” Daddy asked. “One of our machine boys left for the Radley mill about a week ago.”
“Thank you, sir. I’ll keep that in mind, but I’m not much of a mechanic. I’m a trained groom and stable hand. Too many of us already in Kentucky. I came here because I heard about Addie Hardin and Cole Starnes’s work with horses, so I—”
I interrupted, “I’m pretty sure the Starneses aren’t looking for any help. But I have really been missing Addie’s help. If she doesn’t come back . . .”
Daddy’s interest