Page 45 of Mistletoe

“You’re not so bad,” she said.

He brushed his fingers over the glass. “I’ve never seen my reflection before.”

Chapter Twelve

Emma

Mistletoe Farm

The Kitchen

“You hired that fellow?”

“Good morning to you,” Emma said, hanging her coat by the kitchen door with a yawn. Clover followed her through the door and immediately sat by the table, waiting for her bit of scrambled eggs.

Surprising no one, she had a difficult time falling asleep last night. Early morning chores pulled her out of bed just as she finally drifted off, and now, well after dawn, she still had a hard time shaking the sleep from her eyes.

“Good morning, darling dutiful daughter who would never sass her mother,” Agatha said. She spooned a small portion of egg onto a plate and sat it on the floor in front of the cat. “Coffee?”

“Please, and yes, I offered him a job. His name is Hal.” She and Hal had mucked out the barn, fed the goats and chickens, gathered the eggs, and did all the necessary things to keep the animals healthy and warm for another day. Clover, of course, supervised the entire operation. “We got a lot of ground to cover, so I’ll take breakfast out to him.”

“Is that really necessary?” Agatha asked, filling a thermos with coffee.

“Metaphorical and literal ground to show him all that needs doing.”

Agatha rolled her eyes, which was not an expression one expected from their mother. “I meant hiring a farmhand. Isn’t work light this time of year with it being winter?”

“Exactly. It is winter,” Emma agreed. She grabbed a piece of buttered toast from the rack on the table.

“We only have the goats now.”

“You’re answering your own question.” Emma laid out a square of beeswax-coated cloth and assembled the components for fried egg sandwiches on toast. One for her and two for Hal. Maybe three. She grabbed another cloth.

“Perhaps you could answer me directly rather than be pleased with your own cleverness.”

Emma laid on thick slices of cheese assembly-line style. “Despite it being winter, I’ve too much work to do on my own.”

“The goats?—”

“Exactly. The goats need to go out to the pasture once a day or they’ll get up to mischief in the barn. They’ll pull the nails out of the rafters and eat the walls if I let them. But itiswinter. The wolvers and other critters are hungry now and only going to get hungrier. A pasture of goats is mighty tempting, so I have to supervise. That’s hours I spend a day doing nothing but stand in the cold with the shotgun, watching the goats because we can’t afford to lose any in the herd. Once that’s done, there’s still milking and mucking. The goats need fresh hay. There’s always something that needs fixing, usually the chicken coop. It seems like every day there’s a new hole in the fence from some critter trying to enjoy a chicken dinner.” Emma said it all in a rush, barely pausing to breathe. Her hands shook. She hadn’t realized how frustrated she felt until the words spilled out.

“We should have a dog to help with the herd.”

Emma shook her head. They had a dog. Some animal, likely that wolver so determined to get to the hens, killed him. “We can get a dog, but one dog against a wolver isn’t a fair fight.”

“Felix will be home?—”

“We don’t know when Felix is coming back.” Emma placed the eggs on the sandwich and topped them with another piece of toasted bread.

“Where is this man from?”

“Didn’t seem relevant.”

“You don’t know anything about this man,” Agatha said.

“I know we’ve been more than happy to eat what he’s hunted. I know that the morning chores went twice as fast with his help.” Emma knew other things about Hal. That he had been hurt. That he was hiding from someone or something. That she liked the way he said her name. That he was trouble, but the kind of trouble she liked.

“He’s green, Emma. He’s not human. He’s dangerous.”

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