The Work and the Glory Read Online Free PDF

and son picked them up and began to drink. She smiled, her eyes softening with affection. Benjamin drank his steadily, the pale blue eyes shaded by heavy dark brows, completely lost in thought as he surveyed the land over the top of his cup. Mary Ann wasn’t even sure he tasted the sweetness of the buttermilk. For a moment she compared him to Joshua. Her oldest son, now almost twenty, was so like her husband in the lean hardness of his body, the angular features, the mouth perpetually set in what appeared to others as grim determination. If he were here, she knew without doubt he would down the milk in three gulps, his prominent Adam’s apple bobbing up and down with each swallow. Then with what would almost be a groan of pleasure he would hold out his cup for a refill.
    This mental image dramatized the differences between her husband and son as well as any words could have done. Though strikingly similar in physical appearance, their temperaments couldn’t have been much further apart. Joshua went at life like it was some kind of contest of pulling sticks or leg wrestling. He hurled himself at it with frightening intensity, battering at it, trying to pull it off balance enough so he could make it his. On the other hand, Benjamin Steed viewed any overt show of emotion as though it were indicative of some inner flaw. His approach to life was more like that of a careful builder. You selected your materials with care, then simply put things in their proper order, moving methodically from one task to another until the structure was complete.
    Mary Ann’s eyes narrowed slightly. The clashes between the father and son were happening with increasing frequency. Joshua would no longer back down from his father’s unbending will. In fact, it seemed almost like he sought opportunity to butt heads, relishing the chance to validate something deep within himself.
    Mary Ann sighed. If they had stayed in Vermont, Joshua would almost have certainly gone on to marry the Mendenhall girl and start his own household. She knew instinctively it would have solved the problem between Joshua and his father. But Faith Mendenhall had been just one of the other things they had left behind in Vermont.
    The lines of concern pulling at the corners of her mouth and eyes slowly disappeared as Mary Ann turned to watch Nathan. He was sipping at his cup, holding it with both hands, savoring the cool sweetness of the buttermilk as he savored most experiences in life. As lean as his brother, but with a softer cut to him, Nathan was more the product of Mary Ann’s side of the family. Sometimes when she looked at him, tears came to her eyes. She knew this must be very close to what her own father must have looked like at almost eighteen years of age. And Nathan had the same gentle temperament as her father, the same quick smile, the same sensitivity to people.
    Benjamin straightened and handed the cup to his wife, pulling her out of her thoughts. “All right, Matthew, that really helped. Let Nathan and me get back in there.”
    With a sigh, half of disappointment, half of relief, Matthew leaned the shovel against the stump and climbed out of the hole. But as he straightened he suddenly cried out, pointing across the field toward the house. “Look, Pa, somebody’s comin’.”
    They all turned to peer toward the cabin. There was a buckboard out front. A man was returning to it from the house, accompanied by Melissa and Rebecca. The man stopped for a moment to see that the horse was tied securely, then started across the fields toward them.
    “I think it’s Martin Harris, Pa.” Nathan had lifted one arm to shade his eyes.
    Benjamin nodded, recognizing the well-dressed figure and the purposeful stride. They waited, not speaking, as their nearest neighbor moved toward them. The acreage purchased by Benjamin Steed lay directly northwest of the Martin Harris farm, or more accurately, one of the Martin Harris farms. He actually owned four different farms of