He Chose Her, Then Lost Me Forever のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 161 - チャプター 170

A bitter north wind howled down through the mountain pass, driving dark, swollen snow clouds across the valley sky. By mid-morning, the pale sun was completely swallowed by grey gloom. Fine, needle-sharp flakes of snow began to swirl across the frozen farm lanes, dusting the bare oak trees and sticking to the rough bark of the barn walls.Inside the kitchen, the air was thick with the scent of roasted beef, wild thyme, and hot coffee. Sarah stood at the wooden counter, her hands dusted with white flour as she rolled out thick dough for meat pies. Her eyes kept darting toward the frosted window pane, watching the gathering storm with growing concern."It's coming in faster than the farmer's almanac predicted," Sarah said, setting her rolling pin down with a dry thud. She wiped her hands on her blue linen apron and walked over to the woodstove to check the fire. "William, you shouldn't let Noah and Zero-Zero stay out past noon. The track up to the north timber lot gets treacherous when

Four days after the severe blizzard, a sudden warm southern wind blew through the valley. The sky cleared into a brilliant, soft blue, and the sharp winter freeze vanished almost overnight. The thick white blanket covering the mountain slopes began to melt rapidly under the unseasonably warm afternoon sun.Thousands of gallons of water trickled down the granite rocks, turning small, quiet mountain streams into roaring brown torrents. The rushing snowmelt poured down into Blackwood Creek, swelling the narrow riverbed until the muddy water reached the very lip of the wooden bank near the Reed farm.In the kitchen, Noah sat in the wooden rocking chair by the stove, his ankle wrapped tightly in clean linen. Though he was still recovering from his fever, his color had returned, and his clear eyes watched the window with growing unease.Outside, the air hummed with the loud, continuous roar of rushing water.William stood on the back porch, staring out toward the lower pastures. His face wa

A soft March breeze swept across the valley, carrying away the last stubborn patches of grey snow from the high fence lines. The dark soil in the valley pastures breathed in the morning sun, rich and damp, ready for the steel plow. Birds sang from the budding branches of the old oak trees, announcing the arrival of spring.Inside the kitchen, the air was warm with the familiar smell of fried salt pork, hot biscuits, and freshly brewed coffee. Sarah stood at the stove, her hands moving smoothly as she flipped corn cakes on a hot iron griddle.William sat at the table, his spectacles resting on his nose as he wiped down his leather work boots with an oiled cloth. Noah, Luke, and Julian were eating hungrily, their conversation lively as they discussed the day's field work."The south field is dry enough for the blade today, Dad," Noah said, spreading butter over a warm biscuit. "If we get the horses out by eight, we can have the lower five acres turned over before sunset."William looked

The heavy spring rain poured down relentlessly throughout the evening, drumming a steady rhythm against the tin roof of the Reed farmhouse. Inside, the kitchen was warm and filled with the comforting smell of vegetable stew and fresh cornbread.William sat near the hearth, cleaning a leather bridle with a soft cloth, while Sarah mended a tear in Julian’s wool coat. Noah and Luke sat at the long pine table, playing a quiet game of checkers in the soft glow of the oil lamp.Zero-Zero stood by the window, staring out into the dark, rain-soaked night. The flickering light from the lamp cast a soft shadow across his broad features. Though he enjoyed the quiet warmth of the house, his sharp instincts were always tuned to the sounds of the farm.A sudden, sharp bark echoed from the yard. It was Buster, the farm dog, standing on the porch and whining anxiously at the back door.Noah looked up from the checkerboard, setting his wooden piece down. "Buster never barks like that unless something

A crisp morning breeze rustled through the tall grass of the lower valley, carrying the fresh, sharp scent of pine and wild clover. The sunrise painted the eastern sky in soft strokes of orange and violet, signaling the start of one of the busiest days on the Reed farm—the annual spring cattle drive up to the high mountain pastures.Inside the bustling farmhouse kitchen, the energy was high. Sarah stood at the stove, flipping thick buckwheat pancakes while a large iron pot of oatmeal bubbled beside a kettle of strong black coffee. The warm air was rich with the delicious smells of melted butter, crisp salt pork, and toasted oats.William sat at the table, a wooden cup of coffee in his hands, reviewing the route map with Noah, Luke, and Julian."We've got forty head of cattle to move up the ridge today, boys," William said, his voice deep and steady. "The spring grass in the high pasture is thick, but the trail through Miller’s Pass is narrow. We need to keep the herd moving together s