That night when Nina fell into bed she was worn out, and her fingers were so raw they throbbed, but her heart didn’t feel quite so heavy. It didn’t seem likely that she and Rosa would ever be friends, for they were too different, had no shared interests, had yet to have a single conversation that didn’t revolve around the work they had done and the work they had yet to do. But it was a start, all the same, and simply thinking of it helped to unravel some of the loneliness that pinched at her heart.

She woke briefly when Nico came to bed; he and Aldo had still been in the fields when she and the others had eaten their supper. It was a comfort to feel him beside her, and she meant to tell him she was doing better and that Rosa had been happy with her work, but the moment his weight settled next to her, and she felt the comforting cadence of his slowing and deepening breaths against her back, she, too, was dragged back into slumber.

THE NEXT DAY, just after breakfast, Nina and the girls were given the task of helping Nico haul the corn down from the granary. It was the first time she’d been to the top floor of the house, which was long and low-ceilinged and dim behind its shuttered windows, and when her eyes finally adjusted to the light she had to stifle a scream at the sight of mice, dozens upon dozens of them, scurrying in every direction. And was that a rat slinking away?

“Your barn cats aren’t doing much to earn their keep,” she exclaimed, embarrassed at how nervous those darting shadows made her feel.

“There’s a limit to their appetites, unfortunately. And the mice won’t hurt you. They’re barely as big as your smallest toe.”

The baskets were large and heavy, so it was a good thing they had Nico’s help. He was able to carry two at a time, but Nina and the girls could manage only one between them. It took all morning to get the baskets outside and lined up in the courtyard.

After lunch, with Carlo returned from school, they got started on the shelling. Nico had already set out the machine they would use, fixing it to the edge of a big wooden tub, and now he showed Nina—and reminded the children—how it worked.

“It’s simple. Put the cob in the hole here at the top, with the stalk end pointing up, and turn the crank. As the cob goes through, the kernels are stripped off, like so, and the cob pops out the top.”

“That doesn’t look so hard.”

“The cobs are good and dry, so the kernels should come off easily. It’s hard on the arms, though—you’ll want to take turns.”

“And when the tub is full?”