A week later, a gray day, the cold still like toothache but a wind out of the west-northwest and Norman over breakfast stated winter was over. Then with nothing else to do went to the barns to gather eggs and fill the stoves and check the brooder house. Even with the cold lingering the hens were laying with the longer days and steady heat. Near twenty gone broody over fleets of eggs in the boxes in the brooder. No chicks yet. Looked in after his ewes and lambs. Easter dinner for those in Boston who waited for their Son to rise before going home to eat lamb with mint jelly. As if eating spring and resurrection its very self. All this though, for Norman, little more than escaping the house and his own idle hands. He tasted the cold drab air, sniffing deep for the change he was sure was held far down in that wind somewhere. Out over the Great Lakes, Canada, somewhere. Coming.

The women in the kitchen, Connie floured and up to her arms in kneading bread dough, the oven already thumping and crackling with heat waiting the loaves. Leah sat at the table, cutting dried apple rings to quarters and dropping them into a bowl of sugar water for the filling of the pie that would follow the loaves into the oven. She watched Connie’s back and arms, already knowing the bread would be dense and stiff from the hearty pumping and soft thumping sound as she turned the knead over. Finally cleared her throat and watched the back stiffen and the arms pause and then continue, slowed, as she waited and Leah spoke with direct emphasis.

“So?”

Connie darted her face back so her chin grazed her shoulder, looked at Leah and turned back to her work. Her voice muffled as if buried in the dough said, “So, what?”

“You’ve been a busy girl.”

“Umm.”

“Having a good time?”

“I am.” Emphatic, snapping her words closed like a box.

“I’m poking my nose.”

“Oh no.” Connie turned and swept back loose curls, leaving flour trails against her forehead. “I didn’t mean that. You are, I don’t mind. I’m having fun. Been back to Randolph six months now and I’m having a good time. I think I’ll keep right on doing that.”

“Sounds good to me. That Glen, he a nice boy or just a convenience?”

“He’s nice enough. Maybe a little young.”

“What, two maybe three years?”

“Two. Two and a half. But you feel the difference.”

“Well, Norman and me, we’re four years apart.”

“It’s different with the woman older.”

“I guess. Does he, does Glen act that way?”

“Not one whit. Always has the right idea.”

“And him younger than you.”

“Exactly.”

“And you been to Manchester and all. Experienced.”

Connie shook her head. “I’ve no interest in a reputation.”

Leah cut the string from another loop of apples and sliced. Watching her work, said, “No reason to think that’d happen.”