“The sun blazed in a dazzling sky, its warmth melting away the layers of ice and snow that had buried Dutchman’s Creek all winter. Water dripped from the trees, drizzled from the eaves of the houses and ran in rivulets down the roads, turning them to troughs of liquid mud. Harriet picked her way along the grassy edge of the cemetery road, holding up her skirts with one hand and clutching her schoolbag with the other. In the near distance, through the bare trees, she could see her house and y...ard. Jenny, a bright figure in her rose-colored shawl, was just coming out of the shed, teetering under the weight of the firewood she was carrying toward the house. “Jenny!” Harriet broke into a run that carried her through the gate. “You shouldn’t be doing that! Leave the wood to me or to Will!” She raced forward, seized the stacked logs from the girl’s arms and put them down on the back porch. Jenny sighed as she brushed the bark splinters from her sleeves.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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