Daniel Abercrombie entered the barn. “Hello, Will. What are you doin’ here today?”

“Jonah invited me, sir,” Will said.

“Does your pa know?” Daniel asked.

Will shrugged with a glance at Jonah.

Daniel glared at Jonah. “You asked Will to leave his studies?”

Will tried to look innocent as he interceded for his friend. “I’m sure Pa won’t mind. He likes me to spend time outdoors.”

Daniel grunted. “When he lays into you, be sure he knows I ain’t had a part in it.” Then the farmer began harnessing a mule. “Grab the traces over there,” he ordered Will, pointing to leather straps hanging on the barn wall. “You and Jonah harness the other mule.”

“Why aren’t you using the oxen?” Will asked as he handed Jonah the straps. Mules tended to bite, though Daniel had trained his team well. Still, Will would rather work with the large placid oxen.

“Jack here is pesky,” Daniel said, slapping the mule’s hindquarters. “Needs to get out of the barn. We’ll let the oxen rest today. You ready to work, boys?”

Not sure if Daniel was talking to him or the mules, Will nodded. He untied Shanty and remounted his gelding to follow Daniel, Jonah, and Sammy to the south field.

By midafternoon, Will’s muscles ached, and he could barely feel his fingers and feet. Throughout the cold spring day, he’d followed the plow mule, dropping seed, raking over the furrows, and fetching whatever Daniel asked him to fetch. Jonah and Sammy had done the same.

“Good job, lads,” Daniel said, when they finished the field. “Let’s head back to the barn.”

Will wanted to be home in time to pretend he’d been at school. He made his excuses to Daniel and Jonah and turned Shanty toward town.

The sun hung over the hills across the Willamette River by the time Will reached the carriage house behind his family’s home. He led Shanty into his stall. The two carriage horses and his little sisters’ pony stood munching hay, but Pa’s stallion Valiente was gone. The family dog Rufus nosed at Will’s feet, no doubt sniffing at the strange smells from the country.

Will rubbed down the gelding, all the while murmuring to the horse about how much better the day had been than if he’d gone to school. As he finished grooming Shanty and was scooping out a bucket of oats for the horse, Pa entered the carriage house. Mac McDougall led Valiente into the stall next to Shanty, murmuring to his mount just like Will had talked to his gelding.

There was no hope of avoiding Pa, so Will greeted his father and offered Valiente a handful of Shanty’s oats. Valiente’s muzzle was turning gray, but the stallion was still a favorite in the family.

“What are you doing here, Will?” Pa asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I spent the day with Daniel and Jonah helping them plant.” No sense in lying—Pa always found out.

“What about school?” Pa asked.

“Didn’t have much to do today,” Will said. “Thought I’d be of more use at the farm. Abercrombies were planting beans.”

“I don’t care what you thought,” Pa said, frowning. “I’m paying your school fees. Which means you should sit in class and learn. I expect you to be there, unless I’ve given you leave not to be.”

“But Pa—”

“Did you hear me, son?” Pa said. “Your duty is to go to school. Nothing more. Not farming. And certainly not on your friend’s farm. I hire others to cultivate my claim, so there’s not even a good reason for you to work on the land I own. You’ll be in a town job someday, and you need an education.”

“I’ll rub down Valiente for you, Pa,” Will offered, hoping Pa would leave the carriage house and not lecture him anymore.

“A man takes care of his own mount.” Pa continued to curry Valiente. Silently, Will finished tending Shanty, measured out oats for Valiente, then headed inside their home.

When Mac finished grooming Valiente, he followed Will into the house, still with a frown on his face. The boy had no business playing hooky from school. Mac took the back stairs up to the bedroom he shared with his wife Jenny. He’d have to discuss Will's infraction with her, and she was often soft on the boy.

Jenny sat in a chair reading and glanced up. “Hard day?” she asked.

He took off his cravat and sighed. “I just saw Will in the carriage house.”

“Oh?” She sounded surprised. “I didn’t hear him come home from school.”

Mac laughed sharply. “School? He didn’t go to school today.”

“Where was he?”

“He was truant. He went to Daniel’s to plow a field,” Mac said. “I swear, I don’t know what’s gotten into that boy. He used to be so easy, and now he causes problems every time we turn around.”

“He’s sixteen, Mac.” Jenny smiled. “What were you like at sixteen?”

“This isn’t about me,” Mac said, unhooking his pocket watch from his waistcoat. “At sixteen, you were already his mother.”

“Yes. But boys are different. They grow up more slowly.” She stood and crossed the room to him. “Or so you’ve always told me.”

Mac leaned over and kissed her. At thirty-one and after eight pregnancies, her waist had thickened, but her hair was still the light brown he’d always loved, and her smile lit up whatever room she occupied. He pulled her close. “How long until supper?”

“Not long enough,” she murmured against his mouth. “So tell me again, what was William doing today?”

“You’ll have to ask him. All he told me was the Abercrombies were planting beans.”

“You didn’t chastise him, did you?”

“What was I supposed to do, Jenny? The boy belongs in school.”

“You know he’s bored at the academy. Maybe a tutor would suit him better.”

“There aren’t any tutors in town who are any better than the academy teachers.” Mac shook his head. “He needs the discipline of school.”

“Don’t be so hard on him,” Jenny said. She patted his arm. “Wash up, then come downstairs. I’ll go find him and have a word.”

When Mac went down for supper, he found his whole family in the parlor. Jenny sat with little Maggie on her lap—hard to believe their baby was almost two. Eliza and Lottie leaned on their mother, pestering her with questions. Maria knitted in a chair by the fire, and Caleb and Nathan played marbles on the carpet. Will had his nose buried in yesterday’s paper.

“What’s the War news, son?” Mac asked as he entered the room. Eliza and Lottie left their mother and rushed to hug him. He boosted Lottie, almost seven, onto his hip.

“Secessionists beat the Union in Florida,” Will said. He didn’t look up from the paper. “Somewhere called Olustee. That was on February 20, almost two weeks ago.”

“What else is in the paper?”