The Farmer's Daughter: The Dragon Dream: Book One

by Robin Janney

  He felt the younger man’s gaze on his back. “You never let on when you were telling the story.”

  “It’s a hard thing to deal with, Craig. And it’s not something I like sharing with a lot of the family. Not all of them are as tolerant of her behavioral issues as we are.” He drew a deep breath. “Angela’s been trying to kill herself on and off for the past twelve years. In some ways, we lost two children that day. One’s just been slower in dying.”

  Turning away from the window, Philip crossed his daughter’s small bedroom to stand next to the young man seated next to the bed. “I just needed to know how much you knew, to help you understand what you didn’t, and to make sure you were still interested in our wild child.”

  “That hasn’t changed.” Craig rolled his shoulders. “I’ve got my own issues and they don’t seem to scare her away. Why should I be any different towards her?”

  “Good answer, son.” Philip squeezed the younger man’s shoulder. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go talk some sense into my mother-in-law. I’ll wager she said more than just a dead boy’s name to cause that much rage.”

  Craig nodded.

  “Don’t forget to eat that pie.” Philip took his leave from Craig.

  Back downstairs, quiet greeted him. Cassie and Jared were both in the living room, watching a Christmas movie on the television. The sun was setting, and the light outside was dim enough to pop the lights on the Christmas tree.

  “Is Angela okay?” Jared asked, looking over to his father.

  Philip noticed even Cassie turned her head towards him. “As well as can be.”

  They both seemed relieved by the news.

  There was quiet in the kitchen when he entered. Maude was putting dishes away, and he could see tears on her cheeks. Pearl was sitting at the table mending what looked like Angela’s dress. Hopefully the two hadn’t been arguing, but it wouldn’t be the first time if they had been. He helped himself to his own dish of pie and ice cream, taking a moment to squeeze his wife and kiss her cheek.

  “Is she sleeping?” Maude asked, wiping away the remnants of tears.

  “She is. I don’t know for how long.” He refreshed his coffee. Sitting at the table, Philip took a bite of the dessert. “Angela make this pie?”

  “She did. Said it was the recipe she meant to use at Thanksgiving. I’ll have to tell her it’s a keeper.”

  “It is. Pearl, I’m curious as to why you took Angela upstairs to talk? Maude and I had discussed it before dinner, before today even, that if Angela and Craig wanted to have some privacy today, then they could. We even provided a space for them. The two do not get enough time alone outside of the store.”

  Pearl glanced up from her mending. “I didn’t realize they weren’t as far along in their relationship as I believed. Jared told me they’d been dating since Thanksgiving, so I didn’t think an interruption would hurt.”

  “Jared.” Philip rubbed his eyes tiredly. “That’s the second time I’ve heard his name mentioned in all this. Why am I not surprised?”

  “He called me some time ago, asking for prayer for the two of them.” Pearl tied her thread off, nipping it with a little pair of scissors. “Seems to think something bad is going to happen to them if they can’t admit they love each other.”

  “He hasn’t said a word to me. Maude?” He looked across the room at her.

  Shaking her head, Maude closed the distance. She sat at the table with her own cup of coffee, almost white with creamer. It was going to be a long night if she was drinking coffee.

  “I may have to put an end to Jared joining them Sunday afternoons,” mused Philip. The cinnamon in the pie popped in his mouth as he took another bite, the top crunching delightfully. “So far as I know, Pearl, all they’re doing right now is spending Sunday afternoons at Craig’s for dinner and a movie. Craig asked for Jared to be there, I don’t know why. I don’t know if it will continue without him.”

  “I didn’t know,” Pearl repeated, her voice subdued. “They shouldn’t be alone though. Angela’s reputation is bad enough as it is. And it would put them in a position to be tempted.”

  Was that a jab at them? Philip decided to ignore it. “As long as Craig has Angela’s consent, I don’t care what they do behind closed doors.”

  “Surely…” Maude paused, her lips pursed as she thought. “No, you’re right. They’re both adults. I’d rather they wait, but Angela’s always done her own thing.”

  Pearl tsked. “I still think the pastor you’ve told me about would be a better match for her.”

  “Mother! I told you I had changed my mind about that!” Maude rubbed her forehead.

  Philip sighed. “I know you’ve never approved of how we’ve dealt with Angela’s trauma, but she’s our daughter and we’ve done the best we can. I don’t know Craig as well as I’d like, but here’s why I have peace about him. When I pray for my daughter, this is what I see. I see her as a wounded dove. A little white dove with a broken wing. She used to fly free…but then she was wounded.”

  In his mind’s eye, he could still see his happy little girl; he had seen glimpses of her trying to emerge again since summer. His hands moved in front of him as he spoke. “Now, Derek…He was a trophy hunter. I don’t doubt he had feelings for Angela, but like some boys, all he saw were the physical trappings. Derek would have put her in a cage because he didn’t want her to heal. He’d have kept poking at the wound to keep her broken.

  “Pastor Mark is a bit more complicated. When it comes to romantic love, he’s still immature. He sees a pretty girl in pain. He wouldn’t cage Angela, but he doesn’t believe her pain could ever be healed. So, he’d put a leash on her to keep her from trying to fly.

  “But Craig – he’s different. He sees our daughter’s beauty, and he sees her pain. Craig understands pain. He knows how an unhealed wound can fester and kill. As much as her beauty captivates him, her pain bothers him greater. He wants to see her fly, needs to see her fly, but knows he must be patient and gentle. He has his own wounds which need healing, and watching her try to fly does more to heal him than he knows just yet. I wouldn’t be surprised if her testimony ends up leading him back to Christ just like it did for Maude and me. I know people are already talking about how much he’s changed since Angela started working there. Imagine what they’ll be saying when he finds his way back to the cross and emerges with a strength and a fire like this county has never seen.”

  There was silence in the kitchen and Philip realized all he’d said. His children’s prophetic intuition didn’t fall far from the tree.

  “I would say that about sums it up.” Pearl sighed. “Angela did say she thought Craig had been hurt.”

  “Life is full of hurt,” whispered Maude. “I’ve never thought of Angela like that. It’s so hard not to worry.”

  “Keep them in prayer,” Philip said, glancing between the two. “And maybe a little less interference. Let them figure this out on their own.”

  His mother-in-law sighed again but nodded. “You might want to say something to Jared.”

  “I plan on it.”

  28

  I t was dark when Angela woke. She was warm again, and a firm hand held hers. Whose hand was it? It wasn’t her father’s. It felt different, and there was a soft sensation as if he were caressing her skin with his thumb. Where am I? she wondered as she blinked in the darkness.

  She blinked even more when a light blossomed. She brought her free hand up to rub at her eyes and groaned tiredly.

  “Sorry. I left the lamp off when night fell because I didn’t want it bothering you.”

  Craig. He was still here?

  She looked over at him. He was still here. The shadow she so often saw was there in his eyes again and she wondered if she had imagined earlier. But no, Mom said she’d seen it too. He smiled under her scrutiny, soft and warm. It lit his eyes up, those beautiful pained eyes of his, and the love he couldn’t express was there.

  “Hi,” she said.

  “How ar
e you feeling?” His other hand reached over to brush at the hair along her forehead.

  “Like I’ve fallen through ice.” Angela didn’t dare move, afraid he’d stop touching her if she did. He’d done that before. “I’m not sure if everything hurts or if I’m numb. Craig, I’m sorry I slapped you. I was so angry, and I felt trapped and…”

  “Angela,” He interrupted. “It’s alright. Your dad explained to me what was going on. Consider it forgiven and forgotten.”

  “Just like that?”

  “Just like that.” With a smile, he tucked hair behind her ear. “You gave us quite a scare.”

  “It gave me quite a scare too. Dad said he’d tested the ice and said it was safe if the kids wanted to play on it. We used to do that running and sliding thing all the time.”

  Craig withdrew his hand from her face and set his chin on his palm, elbow on knee. “It’s going on nine. Do you want to spend the night here? I’d come back for you in the morning.”

  She shook her head, dismayed at the dizziness the action caused. Maybe he wouldn’t notice. “No, I want to go home. Between Mom and Grandma, they’ll just smother me and at some point, I’d get another lecture from Grandma about how we’re moving too slowly…or too fast, I think she said both. You said it was almost nine?”

  “Yeah, and actually your parents have only been up once apiece.”

  “Oh.” That was unusual. “Is it snowing like the weatherman said it might?”

  “I don’t know,” he answered. “I haven’t moved from this chair since I sat down.”

  “You’ve sat here the entire time?” she asked, unsure how to feel about that.

  He nodded. “I have.” Craig moved again, this time to caress her cheek with the back of his fingers. “I take it you don’t want to talk about what happened?”

  Angela’s chest began to twinge. “I was wrong about the ice, or Dad was.” Please don’t let him mean about the laundry room.

  “I mean about what happened before you stepped onto the ice. The anger and the tears.”

  “Oh, the tantrum.” Angela averted her eyes, not wanting him to see the emotions she knew must be there. Which is when she realized she was no better than Craig when it came to sharing emotions. They both did the same thing. When one of them got too close to a ‘forbidden’ subject, the other would withdraw. She forced herself to look back at him, meeting warm brown eyes with her own. Let him see the emotions.

  “Yeah, although your mom referred to it as an episode. What happened to you Angela, to cause so much pain and anger?” He looked concerned, but otherwise seemed unphased by whatever might be showing in her eyes.

  “It’s not what happened to me. It’s what I did.” She felt tears welling up. This Christmas had started out so nice too. The weight of the bracelet on her wrist was a bittersweet memory. “What happened to you? To turn your entire childhood into a mockery?”

  Craig grimaced, but didn’t look away. Progress of sorts. “I’m not ready to tell you.”

  “Then the feeling is mutual,” she said firmly, swallowing her tears. “When you spill your guts, I’ll spill mine. Deal?”

  “Deal,” he agreed. “I’ll go let them know you want to go home and find out what they did with your clothes. Do you want anything to eat before we go? Your dad brought me a piece of your blueberry pie earlier. It was good.”

  Angela smiled. “Please, and see if there’s any vanilla ice cream to go on top?”

  “There’s the smile I love.” He patted her hand and rose to his feet. “I’ll be back.”

  “I’ll be here.”

  Once the door shut behind him, Angela crawled out of bed. She shivered in the chill of the upstairs room, especially after being under an electric blanket. She forced herself to ignore it. Walking over to the window, each step was a prayer. She didn’t remember it hurting this much before. It wasn’t like she’d been in the water that long, not compared to the other times.

  At the window, she opened the curtain and peered out. The weatherman had been right. It looked like it had been snowing for few hours at least because Craig’s truck was snow covered. The short trip back to Tyler’s Grove could take longer than usual, but Angela wasn’t worried. Much.

  “Why are you out of bed?” Her mother’s stern voice snapped at her.

  Angela turned slowly, her head beginning to throb. “Mom, I’m fine.” She tried not to whine and only partially succeeded.

  “Fine? Fine? You fall into freezing water, and you’re fine? You’ll catch your death standing at that window! You know you tend to come down with pneumonia after falling through the ice.” Maude set Angela’s clothes on the bed and crossed the room to stand next to her. “Your clothes have been washed and dried. Your grandmother mended a couple rips we found. Please, sweetheart, I want you to spend the night here. Craig’s already said he has no problem coming back to get you tomorrow.”

  Angela sighed. “I have to be at the store early. I’ve been given extra hours since I’m on winter break. Especially since Larry was given a few days off.”

  “You’re going to work yourself to death if you’re not careful. I’m sure Craig would let you come in a bit later.”

  “I can’t…no, Craig can’t bend the rules just because we’re in a relationship of some kind. At least, he shouldn’t. And I won’t ask him to.” Angela folded her arms beneath her breasts. She felt so silly in one of her mother’s nightgowns. Trying not to stomp her feet, the young woman crossed her old bedroom to the bed and began separating her clothes. “When it comes to work, I need him to treat me just like another employee. Especially after the Susan and Cori fiasco. He’s becoming as strict as Maeve and Doc Maynard about my work hours during the school year.”

  “Angela.”

  “What?”

  “Your words are running together.” Her mother paused while she took a deep breath. “I’m not trying to make you angry. I’m just concerned about how hard you’ve been working yourself.”

  If her mother was trying to calm her, she wasn’t doing a very good job. She should have tried taking another deep breath but didn’t. “Mom, have you forgotten why I’m working so hard?”

  “This farm is not worth your life!”

  “This farm is worth everything!” Angela’s voice turned iron hard. Her foot stomped on the floor as she pointed in the general direction of the cemetery. She had to make her mother understand. “How many generations of your family are buried out beyond the pond, Mom? Too many to count, and you won’t lift a finger to help! I grew up here. Jared was born here, and so were you! We prayed for this farm when we still lived in the city. We’ve all played from one end of the farm to the other. We know each tree and every corner!

  “We’ve even pretended to fish in that damned pond. Michelle and I have hiked every inch of those woods and camped beneath the stars. I received my first kiss beneath the maple tree! Our family is etched into this land by our sweat and our blood! Don’t tell me its worth…I know exactly what it’s worth!”

  “And your virginity?” Maude’s foot stomped on the floor as well; like mother like daughter. “Under which tree did you lose that? Surely that must be on your list of fond memories.”

  “I’ll let you know when it happens, because my virginity is mine to claim.” She grabbed her pink underpants and slid them on under the nighty to refrain from stomping her foot again. How many times did they have to have this old argument? First her grandmother, now her mother. “I’m sorry you and Grandma don’t believe me. If we’re done arguing, would you excuse me so I can finish getting dressed?”

  “Even though I’ve already seen you naked once today?” Maude rolled her eyeballs. She poked a finger at her daughter. “Don’t think I didn’t see those ribs young lady, so don’t you dare refuse the box of food I send home with you! And you damn well better eat it too!”

  Her mother crossed the room rapidly, and as her hand fell on the doorknob, Angela turned.

  “Mom.”

  “What?” Maude opened
the door but turned back to look at her daughter.

  Twisting her hands in front of her, Angela said, “You know it was an accident this time, don’t you?”

  Maude walked back, placed a motherly hand against her cheek. Her voice was gentle when she said, “Yes, sweetheart. We were watching from the window. Now get dressed since you’re so determined to go home.”

  As the door shut behind her mother, Angela sighed in relief. She hadn’t been sure. She finished changing her clothes, moving slower since her anger had faded. By the time there was a knock on the door, she was sitting on the edge of the bed putting her shoes on. Highly doubting it was her mother again, she called, “Come in.”

  Craig entered, carrying a bowl of pie and ice cream and a mug of what was probably coffee. Not only was he wearing his own shirt again, but also an amused smile. “I don’t know what you said to your mother, but she is fit to be tied.”

  “We argued. It happens.” Angela shrugged and reached for the bowl and fork he offered. She took a bite and made a happy sound. “I think I’ll make this recipe again. This is good.”

  “That is the general consensus,” agreed Craig as he sat back down on the chair he’d vacated earlier. “Your dad has an appointment set up with your doctor tomorrow. He says the only way you can go home is if you promise to keep it. I told him I’d see to it.”

  “Don’t you start too,” she growled. “My parents are bad enough, Craig, I don’t need you on my case too! If I lived my life the way my mother had wanted me to, I’d be married to Derek Foster and helping him run his chicken farm in-between having babies.”