Chapter 87

February 1919 and work never stopped, despite the solid ground that showed no sign of spring. An unexpected cold snap saw a light snowfall blanket the ground. It meant we either bundled up and continued on regardless, or undertook one of the endless inside jobs.

Due to the weather, I decided to clean tack and dragged a chair to the end of the barn aisle. With the doors open to the frigid air, I sat with a pile of bridles in a box next to me. On my other side, a bucket of warm water and a cloth for working in the saddle soap and cleaning off sweat and dirt.

The horses were quiet in their stalls and a sense of peace suffused the world. As though the drop in temperature had frozen time itself and allowed us all a chance to draw a deep breath and recover from events of the last few weeks.

I should be cleaning the leather, but my mind couldn't concentrate in the quiet. I picked at my worries, pushed to the front by the voice that whispered from the back of my skull. Muttering about sins