His hair grew hot and damp. But even in his fear, he knew the peaceful life without her in it was not for him. He wanted what they spoke of, to share the little house with her, to dance on May Day together. He must have this life, would do whatever it took to bring it about, however afraid he was, however surprised by his ability to imagine beyond the ordinary.

Daniel turned and buried his face in his sweat-soaked pillow.

‘If I am bewitched, then let it be so,’ he whispered. ‘If I am bewitched, let it be so.’

And to this refrain, at last, sleep crept over him.

Infused with Light

‘Seth’s brought us buttermilk,’ Annie says.

Mam takes it from him, places the pail of white, watery slop on the table. Its sour smell begins to fill the room. ‘Thank you,’ she says. This time of year we can rely on a regular supply, and though its taste is not sweet, it does keep the belly filled.

‘It was given freely, by those that have to those in need. The actual milk of human kindness.’ He chortles at his own humour, looks around for approval. Finds none. ‘But wait – why these solemn faces on such a beauty of a day?’

‘Our real Sarah’s went away and this one is having a new life with Daniel,’ Annie says, shaking her head.

‘Hush, Annie, I said it was to be our secret.’

She wipes her nose and shrugs. ‘I only keep secrets for real sisters.’

‘Wait, what’s this?’ Seth asks. ‘What is all this? Springtime love blossoms?’

His smile is broad, like a child given a gift and I cannot stay solemn in the face of his joy. He will see the truth of our feelings. My blush is answer enough.

‘Why, this is wonderful news. Happy news.’ He beams at the stony faces of Mam and Annie. ‘We celebrate, do we not, Ruth?’

‘Celebrate we might, for two other people. Those who reach too far can only fall.’

‘A young man from the village?’ Seth asks.

‘Aye, and she’s set her hopes on the highest there. The family will not consent.’ Mam rearranges the two bowls on the table. Picks up the clay figure and slips it on to a stool, furthest from Seth. ‘Though I do believe their feelings run pure,’ she says quietly, face turned away from me.

‘Well, then,’ Seth says. ‘All cannot be lost, if the feelings are as you say. Who is the young man?’

‘Daniel Taylor.’ His name on my lips. Sweeter even than the flawn.

‘Ah.’ Seth lifts his face to the roof, considering. Praying, perhaps. I wait, impatient to hear his thoughts on Daniel. ‘Well, yes I see your dilemma.’ He chuckles. ‘Oh my, you choose a wealthy family. The only farm in the village.’