Like Gold Refined
“James and Olivia were down for afternoon naps, and Martha was more than happy to have her papa all to herself. Virginia was tempted to protest as she watched Jonathan drag some tack into her kitchen and set up to oil a bridle at her kitchen table. But she bit her lip and packaged up the jars of jam in a basket.
“I won’t be long,” she said for the fifth time.
“Don’t rush yourself too much. Slate is working the animals, and I’ve been looking for time to attend to these bridles.”
Virginia grimaced again, kissed both Jonathan and Martha, and hurried out the door to the motorcar.
It was not a long drive to the farm, but Virginia did not enjoy it as she usually did. Other times she savored each silent moment, each breath of summer sun, each expanse of blue sky draping over green fields. But her thoughts were not on the quiet nor the scenery. Her thoughts were on the words of her mother. Surely, surely they would not have to forcefully take her grandparents off the farm they loved.
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