Seasons: A Year in the Apocalypse Page 15

  “That’s very generous of you, Mr. Hulton. Very kind.”

  He waved off the compliment, again seeming slightly embarrassed. “It’s the least I can do. Being neighbors and all.”

  I felt my eyebrows go up. So now we were neighbors? Not landlord and indentured? I doubted it, but Mr. Lasky’s words hung in the back of my mind… hear him out.

  Crossing in front of me, he sat in his usual leather chair. He clapped his hands together softly several times before looking back at me.

  “I’m very sorry to hear of your findings from Rigby and Trident,” he went on, now looking sad. For me, really? “That was the last thing you needed to find out about. That husband of yours, taking up with that Andersen woman, and taking Sasha with them. Appalling, if I do say so.”

  I sat up straighter, my pride feeling a little injured. “Well, we can’t be certain that it was Brady and Sasha with that woman. It’s not like we have any concrete proof.”

  He gave me the eyes of a person who pitied another. Oh, you pitiful stupid woman, he must have been saying in his mind.

  “For your sake, Mrs. Turner, I hope that’s true. I pray that it was someone else and that your husband and daughter return safely to you soon.” He may have said it, but I could tell by his sorrowful expression he didn’t believe it, not one word of it.

  “You wanted to see me about something, Mr. Hulton?” I pressed the subject because my nerves weren’t going to hold out much longer. The only way I could hide my shaking hands was squeezing them tightly together or sitting on them.

  His natural smile returned, and he crossed his left leg over his right.

  “I have a proposition for you to consider today, one that I believe might be of interest to you.”

  My breath started to fail, and the shaking became noticeable. Whatever he was about to say, I was sure I wasn’t ready to hear. He could have said something like he’d discovered a new water source and wanted to share it with me. Or maybe bears had been discovered in the area. Even that he had decided to drop the quota on this year’s corn crop.

  But I knew it was bigger than that because his grin turned into more of a sneer. And it told me whatever he had to offer was only for his benefit. Not mine.

  For a moment, he looked nervous, as if he didn’t know where to begin. His eyes shifted between his hands and the table. Finally, he licked his lips and glanced up at me.

  “I have a solution for your problems,” he began, the nervousness gone.

  “Which problems?” I asked. There were plenty of troubles hanging over me, far too many to count.

  His eyebrows rose for a brief moment. “All of them.”

  I almost laughed, and it must have shown on my face because he smiled as well.

  “Hear me out, Mrs. Turner. That’s all I ask.”

  A little more at ease, I slid back on the couch. This was bound to be good, if not a little overblown on his part.

  “Let’s forget about this year’s harvest. Let’s not concern ourselves with any future harvests.” He nodded as though I understood what he was saying… which I didn’t.

  I was skeptical of his words but encouraged him to move forward. “All right.”

  “You need food over there,” he continued. “I’ll provide food. You won’t go hungry. You need wood too, I understand. I’ll have a dozen wagons deliver nice cut and dried oak to you.”

  All of this had to be the doing of his wife. Mr. Hulton wasn’t that generous.

  “I hear you’ve been having trouble with your well,” he added. “Let me send over a man and his son who are experts in these things. They’ll either fix what you have or install a new one.”

  I tried to maintain a neutral face, but all he was offering made me wonder what he was up to now.

  “I can’t afford any of this, Mr. Hulton,” I replied. He knew that. I could see it in his eyes. They never once met mine. Either his words were hollow, or he had a diabolical plot that involved me.

  “You don’t have to pay for a thing, Mrs. Turner.” He paused, finally looking at me and smiling politely. “Might I call you Abigail? That is your name, after all.”

  I nodded slightly, still concerned what the true cost would be.

  “And call me Rickard, or Rick, if you would. That would be nice, don’t you agree?”

  That was too much. I wondered what he had in mind, what his endgame was?

  “And how shall I be compensating you, Rickard?”

  His eyes smiled. I noticed the same glint in his eyes he had exposed when I signed Walker’s contract. Except this time, they were aimed at me, not some crummy piece of paper.

  Chapter 48

  Slowly, he rose from his chair, the leather creaking as he did. Approaching me, he sat down. He was so close I could feel the heat of his legs on mine. I felt myself beginning to perspire.

  “As you already know…” He took my damp hands in his. “My wife and I cannot have children of our own. I inherited this operation from my father when he died, as did he from his father originally. I need an heir, Abigail. I won’t live forever, and the best time to start with an heir is now… while I’m still in my prime.”

  Was he asking me…?

  “But you’ve adopted a daughter, Mr. Hulton.” I just couldn’t call him Rickard. Not with what I thought he was asking of me.

  “We have a daughter, that is true. But I need a male heir, just as my father was for Grandpa Hulton and I was for him. A man to run this place. Run by Hulton standards.”

  I swallowed hard. He wanted me to give him a child. Hopefully, a male child. That couldn’t possibly be something that Mrs. Hulton had agreed to.

  “I’m not misogynistic, Abigail. Please don’t think that of me. But I really need a son. Badly.”

  Blowing a thin breath through my tight lips, I studied our conjoined hands. His, large and powerful. Mine, small, chapped, and shaky.

  “I’m not sure I can have children any longer, Mr. Hulton,” I admitted after several moments of thought. “I’m so malnourished that I don’t even have a cycle anymore.”

  When I looked up, I expected to find disappointment. What I found instead were wide-open eyes staring at me.

  “That’s not really a problem, Abigail,” he whispered, patting my hands before releasing them. I thought I might feel soiled from his touch, as if Satan himself had touched me. But I didn’t.

  “Then what are you speaking of?” I dared to ask though my voice shook with the vibrato of a small scared child.

  He nodded twice and rose. I wouldn’t like what he had to offer; that I was certain of.

  The way my head shook after he spoke, the way my mouth hung agape, the way I forced breath after breath into and out of my lungs should have dissuaded him. It should have given him the answer he needed without any words being exchanged. But he was unfazed, as if I should have expected any other reaction from a man who always got what he desired.

  “I’ll tear his contract up today, with your permission.” Rickard Hulton pressed on like a man on a mission, which he was. “I’ll have someone important from the Amish community brought over to witness the deal. I can have him here in fifteen minutes.”

  I couldn’t believe what he had suggested, what he was angling for. And yet he continued.

  “His name will be changed, of course. From this day forward, he’ll be known as Luke Hulton. I’ll put him to work right away, mirroring Lask. That way, he can learn everything about the operation he’ll need to know.

  “I’ll sit him down and go through all my contracts with him. I’ll have each one amended so it’s in both of our names: mine and my son’s.”

  My head rose and watched him pace. In his mind, the deal was already done.

  “I can’t give up my son,” Mr. Hulton,” I pleaded. “Not after finding out I may never see my daughter again. I won’t have anyone.” The last words came from the mouth of a desperate, weeping mother.

  His eyes turned sad. “If you starve to death, he won’t have a mother. With this s
olution, you’ll never have to worry about food ever again. I promise that.”

  The only hope I had left in this world—Walker returning to me someday soon—was being used against me. As if I were a pawn in this man’s worldly chess game. I couldn’t. I just couldn’t.

  “Someday in the future, after I’m gone, Luke will have you come and live with him here.” He began pacing in front of the fireplace. “You’ll have full visitation rights with him; come see him as often as you like, not just on the day of rest. As long as he’s available and not tied up with business, you’ll be able to spend as much time with him as you like.”

  A momentary surge of confidence hit me. “Through the fence, no doubt.”

  Rickard Hulton’s lips puckered. “That’ll be Luke’s choice. As my son, he’ll have my full confidence and move about at his own discretion.”

  The offer was impossible. Live free but without my child. “I don’t see—”

  He was back next to me.

  “The minute you sign the adoption papers, I promise to send ten of my best men and women to find your daughter,” he insisted. “And believe me, they won’t come back until they have Sasha in their hands.”

  I peeked up. “And Brady?”

  With the most serious expression I had ever seen on the man, he nodded. “He’ll be dealt with. Along with that Andersen woman. Once Sasha’s back, you’ll never have to worry about her ever being taken away again.”

  It was all too neat and well thought out for my liking. I’d give up Walker and get Sasha back. We’d both win was the way he saw it. Perhaps that was the way I should have seen it too. If only…

  “Why Walker?” I asked quietly.

  “He’s a good boy, raised right by a good mother.” I wondered if he thought his blatant flattery might help. “To be honest, I’ve had my eye on him ever since Lask pointed him out to me. Smart, hardworking, liked by everyone… What else could a person want in a child?”

  To be living with me, that’s what.

  Chapter 49

  Sunshine and I walked back to our home in the late afternoon. I found her just where she said she’d be, waiting for me outside the gate.

  After I informed her of the highlights of my meeting, I felt her take my arm, steering me toward home.

  “Ain’t a snowball’s chance in hell that’s ever happening,” she said in a voice far more confident than I felt. Though I’d said no, I was told to sleep on it for a while. See how things progress, Mr. Hulton insisted.

  “I always wondered how crazy that man was,” Sunshine said as we reached the back porch. I saw her grin. “Now, I guess we know.”

  But it wasn’t that easy, all nice and simple as Sunshine made it sound. As I had made it sound at first.

  Never could a woman be expected to give up one of her own children. That wasn’t the way I was raised. My mother and grandmother had told me many times that family was the only thing holding us together in this dark world.

  As I inspected my life, I found many indications that perhaps those words weren’t necessarily true any longer. Maybe they were hollow, empty promises people made one another… until times demanded that other choices be made. Like now.

  My daughter was gone. My son was an indentured servant to a man who said he could make all of my troubles disappear. Who was I to doubt the strong, confident words of Rickard Hulton? I, after all, was failing miserably as a mother, a wife, a human.

  Running to the garden, Sunshine attached to me at the hand, I tore open the garden and strode to the corn. Here was my hope, my last hope…our last hope. If this measly stand of crop could just produce 30 pounds of seeds, we’d make it through the winter.

  Doubt began to surface as I studied the outer row. Out of the first eight or nine ears I found nothing to give me confidence there was any salvageable corn there.

  Pushing the tallish stalks aside, I wandered into the middle of the crops. Those ears were better, fuller. Bouncing one in my hands, I felt its weighty bounty, ready for harvest. My hope was the middle rows, all six of them. They would provide us with the number we needed.

  For a moment, I wondered if all of this worry was for nothing. In the end, we might make our quota, the full 40 pounds. People had been wrong before.

  When Brady and I first arrived at this place, everyone around us laughed and said the land wouldn’t support crops any longer. They claimed the previous squatters had left because their final two years had borne almost no fruit. But Brady knew better, or so he said.

  True, the first year wasn’t much, but it got us by. The second year produced glorious harvests that fed us to the next fall. It wasn’t until we started planting corn that things began to slow.

  It struck me odd how the corn seemed to suck the life out of the land. I couldn’t recall the exact reason Brady had agreed to take on Hulton’s crops. From what I remembered, it had something to do with credits at the Amish store and the better life we’d have in the end.

  An idea struck me hard. It had all been his doing. This whole mess was because he always wanted what I had… what he didn’t have. I needed some food and for Sunshine to hear me out. But I was certain I’d been played. And played very well.

  “So you see, it’s all his doing,” I paced in the evening lamplight while Sunshine nodded and listened to my rant. Thus far, she hadn’t jumped in and shouted “Alleluia,” but at least she was still listening.

  “It seems like a stretch,” she replied. I knew she wanted to agree with me, but so far she hadn’t had her aha moment.

  I decided to repeat the tale. Maybe she had missed a crucial detail.

  “Hulton told me he’s always had a liking for Walker,” I began. “Had his eye on him ever since we arrived.”

  Sunshine nodded, unconvinced. “Okay…”

  “So he devises his plan. Convinces Brady to plant some corn for him so we can get credit at the store.” I thought she was still with me. “First year, no problem. Last year, not so good. This year is a disaster.”

  “Because of the rain,” Sunshine added. “Even Mr. Frederickson said it was the rain, Abby.”

  I turned and waggled a finger at her. “Don’t be so fast to assume. Hulton knew darn well the soil was weak to begin with. He knew our corn would fail eventually. And when it did, he’d be waiting for me with this deal of a lifetime I couldn’t refuse.”

  Sunshine looked lost. “But how’d he know Brady would take the deal? How’d he know Brady was gonna leave and take Sasha? How’d he know it would rain so much this year? How’d he know—”

  I raised a hand to slow her down. “He probably convinced Brady to leave. Maybe Brady went to him and told him about this other woman. Sought out Hulton’s advice. Mr. Hulton probably even gave him the whole story.”

  She rubbed her eyes, her tired head shaking. “I think you need some sleep, Abby. I think you’ve gone all blurry-eyed as to what’s real and what isn’t. This don’t make no sense, and I hate Hulton and Lasky just as much as you do.”

  I jumped and threw my hands over my head. “See, see. Lasky’s in on it, too. It has to be some big scheme by Hulton. He sends Brady away—has Lasky take me to find out they’re gone. It’s all too perfect.”

  She nodded, but her mouth hanging open told me she wasn’t believing much of what I said.

  “And now, with all hope gone, he steps forward and offers me a deal he knows I can’t refuse.” In my mind, it was straightforward. I don’t think Sunshine saw it quite as clearly as I did.

  She rose and took me by the arm. “You need sleep, girl. And lots of it. I’m starting to worry you might have picked up the fever down by Rigby. None of this makes no sense.”

  I followed her to our room. I might have agreed to lie down, but I wasn’t about to sleep. Not that night.

  Chapter 50

  Several days passed, and my feelings about Mr. Hulton’s grand conspiracy theory began to wane. There were just too many moving parts for him to have been able to pull it off. Though I desperately wanted to beli
eve evil forces were at play, I had no actual proof.

  Brady had argued with me not to sign Walker away to Hulton’s care that previous fall. He claimed the man was evil and got everything he wanted. At first, that supported my theory. Upon further thought, it was Walker who had decided he’d go—for the betterment of the family, he stated.

  Next there was the cold truth that Brady and Hulton despised one another. Never had they seen eye to eye on any topic, much less had what could be called anywhere near a friendly exchange. Brady’s parting words were to watch my step with our evil landlord. He couldn’t be trusted under any circumstances.

  Mostly, it was the issue with Brady and the Andersen woman that convinced me Mr. Hulton had no grand plan in play. If not for the Amish in the Trident community, I might not have believed the wandering eye my husband possessed. But they were able to describe Brady and Sasha in minute detail. The people they had seen there last fall were my family.

  “When Lasky and his boys coming over to harvest?” Sunshine asked late one afternoon as I stared at the crops. The cooler weather was keeping us inside—cloudy days along with blustery winds—but I still worried about the garden from the living room.

  I peeked back at her. “A couple days after the next day of rest,” I replied without any hope in my voice. It was only a matter of time now. Time before our true fate was revealed.

  “I thought he said he was coming over to do a sample before that,” she crowed, flopping on one of the two couches.

  “Today or tomorrow,” I replied, heading back to the kitchen for a ladle full of water. At least the well hadn’t given out… yet.

  A form appeared in our back door, startling me. When his head rose, I recognized the face.

  “He’s here now,” I called back to my friend. “Let’s grab some jackets and join him in the garden.”

  Seeing me, he was already out the back door and on his way out there. Might as well join him for whatever depressing news he had for us.