Prim woke up to pounding on the bedroom door. “Prim?? Prim, are you well? You’ve been in there all night. I wanted to check on you.” It was Daks.

  She looked around. She had fallen asleep on her sketchbook. The drawings had disintegrated into neurotic scribbles.

  “Prim???”

  She pushed her hair from before her eyes. “Oh, yes, yes, Daks, I’m sorry—I’m just waking up. I’m…well.”

  “Are you sure? Can I come in?”

  “Uh—uh—” Wake up, wake up! She slammed shut the sketchbook and attempted to push down her no-doubt unkempt hair. She rose and smoothed out her skirt. She unlocked the door. “Yes, yes, come in!”

  Daks walked in and closed the door behind him. “I’ve been worried, but I didn’t want to bother you. Ofellie said you were ill.”

  “I’m sorry to worry you. I didn’t mean to.”

  “Are you feeling better?”

  Lie: “Oh, yes.”

  “Were you able to get any sleep?”

  Lie: “Yes! Yes, it’s always easy to sleep in this bed. It’s so comfortable.”

  His face conveyed suspicion, but he didn’t press. “The Shoggs are getting ready to head home. Do you want to see them off?”

  “I…think I’ll stay in here for a bit.”

  “All better, hmm?”

  She said nothing.

  “Atcha, I’ll tell them you send well wishes.”

  “Thank you.”

  Daks went downstairs and outside where the Shoggs were packing up their carts. Ora and Brenne were running around together, giggling and squealing.

  Aunt Edmey walked towards Daks, looking up at him. “My Daksy. Be careful.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “With Prim. She’s a woman, and sometimes women are afraid to say things, to ask what they can expect. You have given her a home, but if you really care for her, make this official as husband and wife, giving her the security a woman needs.”

  “I see.”

  “I know I don’t know much of the situation, but there are some universal things in life. She seems like a sweet girl who loves Ora as her own. And…the way she looks at you and treats you—she loves you. And…forgive me if I’m too blunt, but I think you love her, too. Whatever other details there may be can be sorted out later. Just don’t keep a woman waiting.”

  “Thank you, Aunt Edmey. I’ll consider what you’ve said.”

  “I love you. I won’t pester you anymore on the matter.” She hugged him tightly and kissed him on the cheek. “We’re looking forward to having Ora stay with us again in a few months—especially Brenne.”

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  Uncle Dennby approached. “We are all set to leave. Horses are fed and hooked up to the carts. Sandy is wrangling Brenne.”

  Edmey laughed. Then she looked back at Daks. “Be good, Daksy.”

  “I’ll try.”

  Dennby hugged Daks. “See you in a few months. Take care.”

  “You, too.”

  Prim woke again as the sun was setting. She had taken off her dress and corset after waking up that morning. Sleeping in only her shift and drawers was much more pleasant than otherwise. But she still felt so tired. She forced herself out of bed and into presentable clothes. Then she found herself downstairs where Daks and Ora were eating stew.

  Ora jumped up and ran to embrace her, which was startling. “Oh! Ora! Hello!”

  “Are you feeling better? They said you were feeling ill! I’m so sorry.”

  “Oh, thank you, milysh. I’m feeling better.”

  “You must be starving! You haven’t eaten since lunch yesterday!”

  “Oh.” She didn’t even feel hungry. “Oh, yes, I must.”

  “Go sit down! I’ll fetch you some stew! Cousin Ofellie taught me how to make it.”

  Prim sat down across from Daks who stared at her.

  Ora brought her a bowl of stew and one of the big spoons. “I hope you like it!”

  “Thank you. I’m sure I will.”

  “Daidi, can I go play?”

  “Wash your dishes first, but yes.”

  “Thank you, Daidi!” Ora did as she was told. Then she ran upstairs.

  After a moment, Daks said, “Are you going to try it?”

  Prim realized she had just been staring at the stew, holding the spoon in her hand. “Oh! Yes.” She finally took a bite. It was pretty good, but she didn’t enjoy it. She forced a second bite down.

  She looked up. Pepin was sitting across from her. He had those same questioning eyes from that fateful morning. She couldn’t look away. His eyes looked through hers through the back of her skull. She couldn’t move. He didn’t blink. Just stared through her. He knew what she had done. Those eyes no longer asked, “what’s wrong?” but rather, “how could you?” There was no answer good enough, and she would never have the chance to make amends.

  “Prim?”

  Daks’ voice smashed through her thoughts like a hammer. Startled, Prim knocked the bowl of stew onto the floor. “Shit!” She jumped up as the bowl shattered on the rug, and the spoon clattered a little further away against the wood floor. She furiously gathered pieces of broken pottery, potatoes, and meat into her apron. She rushed to the back door and flipped the apron out.

  She rushed back, ripped the apron off, and used it to scrub furiously at the spots on the rug. Her hand looked like a blur but the spot on the floor seemed just as dark as when she began.

  She scrubbed and scrubbed.

  “PRIM!” Hands grabbed her. Now she was sitting on the couch.

  “I HAVE TO CLEAN THE RUG!” She struggled pointlessly against hands and arms.

  “PRIM, STOP, STOP.” Daks’ concerned face came into focus. “What’s wrong?”

  She was silent for a moment until the sobs burst out. “It won’t ever be clean—not never!”

  Daks took the apron from her. Then he grasped her hands and stood. “Let’s go check on the animals. I’ll go tell Ora. Don’t move.”

  His tone left no options for movement, so she just sat, wiping off her hands and her face as he spoke to Ora.

  Once Daks had come back downstairs, they approached the door. Daks grabbed their coats and helped Prim put on hers.

  They walked toward the chicken cype. Daks opened the door. The chickens had quieted down and were mostly perched for sleeping or already sleeping.

  “Prim, what is going on.”

  “I—I can’t.”

  “You have been hidden away in your room for a day, and when you finally emerge, you barely touch your food. And then…I don’t have any idea what just happened. What is going on?”

  Prim rubbed her fingers, which were raw from scrubbing the floor. Her mind felt clearer, at least. “I’m so sorry. I feel like I sound crazy whenever I talk with you like this.”

  “Please.”

  “I feel…haunted.”

  Prim felt much better after talking with Daks again. He was so understanding, so much more than she deserved. After a long talk and checking that all the animals were well-secured, Prim and Daks returned to the house.

  “Like I said: all you can do is to go on living,” Daks said. “Eventually, you will have enough meaning in your life to help remind you that living is worth it.”

  “I should go to bed,” Prim said.

  They hugged for a long moment. Then Daks kissed her on the forehead.

  She stared up, surprised and thrilled and scared. He looked down at her with his kind eyes.

  “Sweet dreams,” he said.

  She went upstairs as if in a daze. She changed into her night shift, rinsed off her face in the basin, braided her hair as best she could, and put on her nightcap. Then she burrowed into the bed.

  Unfortunately, she did seem to have feelings for this farmer. And that farmer seemed to also be fond of her. And she really loved his little girl. Most inconvenient since she wanted to die.