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Back Plough the Furrow Save as PDF
Chapters (53)
  1. Cover
  2. Title page
  3. Dedication page
  4. One
  5. Two
  6. Three
  7. Four
  8. Five
  9. Six
  10. Seven
  11. Eight
  12. Nine
  13. Ten
  14. Eleven
  15. Twelve
  16. Thirteen
  17. Fourteen
  18. Fifteen
  19. Sixteen
  20. Seventeen
  21. Eighteen
  22. Nineteen
  23. Twenty
  24. Twenty-one
  25. Twenty-two
  26. Twenty-three
  27. Twenty-four
  28. Twenty-five
  29. Twenty-six
  30. Twenty-seven
  31. Twenty-eight
  32. Twenty-nine
  33. Thirty
  34. Thirty-one
  35. Thirty-two
  36. Thirty-three
  37. Thirty-four
  38. Thirty-five
  39. Thirty-six
  40. Thirty-seven
  41. Thirty-eight
  42. Thirty-nine
  43. Forty
  44. Forty-one
  45. Forty-two
  46. Forty-three
  47. Forty-four
  48. Sow the Seed
  49. Reap the Harvest
  50. About the Author
  51. ALSO BY MARGARET DICKINSON
  52. Acknowledgements
  53. Copyright page

‘Beth Hanley. I live at the Point in one of the cottages with me dad.’

‘Oh.’ Esther shook her head. ‘I ain’t seen the Point yet . . .’ She grinned ruefully. ‘I ain’t been off the farm since I got here.’ She did not add that it had been deliberate; she was afraid that if she set foot outside the gate, Sam Brumby would find some way to keep her out. Now, more than ever, if there were others wanting the job, she had to prove herself indispensable to Sam.

But Beth Hanley was smiling again showing white, even teeth. ‘Mester Brumby’ll work you hard, there’s no doubt about that.’

‘Well, well, well, look what we’ve got here, then. Two pretty girls . . .’

They both turned and Esther saw the young man whom she had encountered early that morning in the hayloft coming towards them looking from one to the other, a broad grin on his face.

At once the smile disappeared from Beth Hanley’s face. Her glance went from Matthew to Esther and then back again. ‘D’you know her, Matthew?’ The friendliness was gone from her tone. ‘Did you tell her about this job too?’

‘Naw, course I didn’t. I don’t know who she is or where she’s come from. I only met her this morning.’ His insolent eyes raked Esther up and down. ‘But – I can’t say I’m sorry.’

Obviously, Esther thought, he bears me no grudge for kicking his shins, even though the bruise must still be sore. Perhaps he thinks he can tame me. Well, Mester Matthew – if that’s what ya name is – ya can think again! A small smile flickered on Esther’s mouth as she met his impudent gaze.

Seeing it, Beth’s dark eyes flashed, any sign of a tentative friendship gone in an instant. ‘Huh, might ’ave known you’d have your eye on her afore she’s been here five minutes. Can’t keep your hands off anything in skirts, can you, Matthew Hilton?’

‘What would either of you do here anyway?’ he asked of them mockingly. ‘The ploughing?’

He came and leant casually against the other door frame close to Esther, his arms folded across his chest.

Esther stood in the doorway between them. Defensively now, she said, ‘Aye, an’ I can plough a straight furrow, an’ all.’

Matthew threw back his head and laughed, the sound echoing around the yard. There was a sarcastic smirk on Beth Hanley’s face as she said, ‘Get away, you couldn’t handle them great horses, so don’t . . .’