Years Read Online Free PDF Page A

with a singular lack of haste at once awkward and graceful. His frame was well-suited to bib overalls, dometoed boots and a thick flannel shirt. On the hottest of days hekept his shirt buttoned to the throat and wrist, never complaining about the heat as he never complained about anything, ever. His interests ranged only as far as the edges of the fields, and in them he earned his daily bread at his own unhurried pace. As long as he was able to do that, he asked little more of life. “Mowin’s goin’ good,” he observed now. “The three of us oughta nearly finish this section before nightfall.” John hunkered down, balancing on the balls of his feet, letting his eyes range over the field while he chewed a stem of wheat.
    As always, it perplexed Theodore that his brother lacked curiosity about the goings-on around him. Yet he did. His contentment was such that it did not occur to him to question or defy. Perhaps it was because of this vagueness that Theodore loved him unquestionably and felt protective toward him.
    What goes on in that mind of yours, John, when you hunker all motionless and gaze at the horizon?
    “He turned out to be a she,” Theodore informed his older brother.
    John raised uncomprehending eyes but didn’t say a word.
    “She’s a woman,” Theodore explained.
    “Who’s a woman?” The question came from Kristian who’d drawn abreast and was jumping down from the seat of his machine with a quickness totally opposite that of his uncle. Like the other two men, he was dressed in striped overalls, but beneath them his back was bare and on his head he wore no hat. He had wiry brown arms with dips at the biceps that had only become defined during the past half-year. The sudden spurt of growth had left his neck with a gangly appearance, for his Adam’s apple had developed faster than the musculature around it. His face was long and angular, becoming handsomer as each day added flesh to the lengthened bone and brought him closer to maturity. He had his father’s brown eyes, though they lacked the cynicism that often stole into Theodore’s, and his mother’s sensual lower lip, slightly fuller than the upper. When he spoke, his English pronunciation held the slight distortion of a Norwegian who has grown up speaking bilingually.
    “The new schoolteacher,” his father answered with an even more pronounced accent. Theodore paused and considered before adding, “Well, not exactly a woman. More like a girl pretendin’ to be one. She don’t look much older than you.”
    Kristian’s eyes widened. “She don’t?’ He swallowed, glancedin the direction of the house, and asked, “She stayin’?” He understood, without ever having been told in so many words, that his father had an antipathy toward women. He’d heard the old folks talking about it many times when they didn’t think “little ears” were around.
    “Your grandma took her upstairs and showed her her room, as if she was.”
    Again Kristian clearly understood — if Grandma said she was staying... she was staying!
    “What’s she like?”
    Theodore’s chin flattened in disapproval. “Wet behind the ears and sassy as a jaybird.”
    Kristian grinned. “What’s she look like?”
    Theodore scowled. “What do you care what she looks like?”
    Kristian colored slightly. “I was just askin’, that’s all.”
    Theodore’s scowl deepened. “She looks puny and mousy,” he answered cantankerously, “just like you’d expect a teacher to look. Now let’s get back to work.”
    Supper started late during harvest, for the men stayed out in the fields ‘til the last ray of sunlight disappeared, stopping in the late afternoon to do the milking and eat sandwiches to tide them over until they came in for good.
    Though Linnea had politely offered to lend a hand with the suppertime preparations, Nissa wouldn’t hear of it, brushing her off with a terse declaration: “Teacher rooms and boards here. It’s part of your pay, ain’t it?”
    So