“Do you know anything about the two missing snuff boxes? Or this letter?”
My eyes slammed shut as I massaged my temples, the stress building into a pounding headache.
“No, I know nothing.”
"You mean you are cleaning and dusting in this room multiple times a week, and you haven't noticed the spots where two snuff boxes should be but are not?"
She shook her head.
“What about the letter? Do you remember getting an envelope from the National Museum of Norway?”
“I cannot remember. The lodge gets so much mail. I only sort through the junk and either forward the rest or leave it on your desk.”
I shut my eyes again, not sure what to think.
“The stove is on,” she said. “I must go check on it.”
She rushed out of the room before I could say anything else. Itching for freedom from stress, I ran up to my room, changed into my running clothes and shoes, and left through the front door. I would run until I had a plan or until this stress headache disappeared.
Chapter twelve
Agotia
Loudbleatingfilledtheair as I herded the goats into a pen with the farm hands. The ornery animals hated to be crowded and fought against us every step of the way, but by the end, only one goat had managed to escape. It was time to vaccinate them all again, and despite how low my funds had become, I refused to be an animal owner who didn't take care of her animals first. As much as I hated this part of the job, it had to be done.
“You three start separating the goats one at a time for shots. When they have been vaccinated, turn them loose. I am going to find our stray and bring her back.”
The men nodded at me and got to work, moving like a well-oiled machine. The instructions I gave them were less for their sake and more so that I could prove that I knew what I was doing, at least sometimes. Many of them had worked for my father long before I was born and were more comfortable with the animals than I was. They all knew why I gave them instructions too.
I stopped at the barn for some rope and an apple, hoping to lure the stray close enough to harness her and walk her back to the corral. She had not wandered far and didn’t run off as I approached, which I took as a good sign.
She eyed my apple curiously and stepped close enough for me to loop the rope around her neck, but she bolted as soon as she realized what I had done. With the other end of the rope wrapped around my hand, I was yanked off my feet and fell face-first into the mud. It was a foolish mistake to underestimate the goat's strength.
The embarrassment of the situation made me lay in the mud for longer than necessary. I could hear the jingle of Blossom's collar as she pranced around me, curious to know what I was doing sitting on the ground. The sound only added to my humiliation. Tears pricked my eyes as my mind began to list out my failures. Between my inability to make soap, wrangle a goat, or pay the bills, defeat had become a constant presence these past few days.
“Agotia?”
I would have been thrilled to hear that low, rumbling voice call out my name in almost any other circumstance. But right now, he was the last person I wanted to see.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
"Only my pride," I answered, pushing myself off the ground.
When I turned around to face him, I was almost grateful for the mud covering my face as it kept him from seeing how pink my cheeks were. He was dressed in gray sweatpants and a white tee shirt that was almost transparent from the sweat that soaked it. His wavy hair hung limply around his face, similarly drenched in sweat.
"I didn't expect to see you here today, Alexander. What are you doing?"
“I was just about to ask you the same question,” he answered, shooting me a playful grin.
His smile was contagious, and I was grinning right back at him before I knew it.
"I thought I would try out a mud bath. I have heard they do remarkable things for your skin.”
He laughed then, really laughed, hard enough that he was doubled over and gasping for air in a few short seconds. It was infections, and I quickly found myself in a similar position, mud dripping off me. I tried to wipe the tears from my eyes, but that only smeared the mud more, sending another wave of laughter through us. When we finally caught our breath, the tension I had felt earlier was gone.
"Though, Agotia, are you okay?” he asked again.
"I am fine. Blossom likes to be stubborn. Even for a small goat, she has no problems giving me a challenging time. I do need to rinse this off and change. Are you going to stick around for a bit?"
