The Farmer's Daughter

Wretched Goodbyes

"Why're ya still here, girl?" Papa panted heavily from hard labor. I've been sitting in the middle of our fields for hours avoiding my new reality that was walking around in Pierre-mont. "I'm not going to work, papa," I flipped a page from the book I was reading, "I decided to take a break from continuously puncturing a hole in my finger." Papa chuckled at the annoyed look on my face. The pads on my fingers were beginning to scab over after the torturous work of the previous days. "Tell the truth, Annie." He sat himself down next to me with a grunt. Papa overworked himself often. I forgot how much until I saw him wince trying to sit on the ground. "It's 'cause of ya grandmother."

Without a thought in my mind, I began to play with my locket's chain. "Fleur told me 'bout ya talk with her." Of course, she did, I thought, she could never keep a secret from Papa. "Madame doesn't know when to keep quiet, doesn't she?" I put my book down and stare at the dirt. "Did you know that she wants me to leave Pierre-mont with her?" Papa harrumphed at my question. He knew. I knew he knew. Papa didn't have to say much then or before as to why grandmother was in Pierre-mont. "You did know. Is that why you didn't tell me anything?" My fingers drew the family crest of the DuPont's in the dirt. I bet DuPont ladies don't draw on dirt, do they grand-mere, I thought as I pushed the tip of my finger into the dirt.

"Yer mama knew that yer life was meant to be greater than this," he held his arms out, "Greater than living in this farm." My head turned quickly at him. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Really, I couldn't believe that the words were coming out if his mouth. "This farm is my livelihood, papa. This land that we're sitting is MINE! I am neither ashamed nor wishing for something greater. I am happy, papa. I don't need wealth or anything else that Grandmother is offering me." He sighed as he put his arms around my shoulders, hugging me close. "I would nevah make ya go if ya don't want to. Yer my daughter. M'only flesh and blood. I wouldn't be able to let ya go." He squeezed my shoulder. "Not just yet anyway."

I let go of my locket and wrapped my arms around his waist. "Did mama really want me to leave Pierre-mont?" I whispered into his shoulder. "Why would she teach me english and maths and etiquette if she didn't believe that I would be happy here?" I didn't tell him my true fear. My fear was that my mother didn't want me here. That deep down, she didn't want to be here either. I'm sure Papa understood what I meant. "Yer mother loved you with all she had. M'Annette only wanted ya to have a better chance at life, whether yer grandmother took ya to the city or not."

"Did she ever miss her old life?"

"Yes, she did," he said into my hair as he kissed my forehead, "but she loved this life more."

I thought about what my papa said as I strolled through the grounds. When mama was alive, I was too young to remember anything other than the love and happiness I felt here. Even with my mama's warning about grandmother coming here looking for us, I never believed that I would leave. A present? Well, it feels too real. Papa's talk truly unnerved me. Although he said that he wouldn't push me to leave, I felt like deep down he wanted me too. But what would be awaiting me in the city? At court? I am of noble blood raised in the country. I wouldn't belong.

I was so lost in thought that I didn't notice Tim grabbing me from behind. He twirled me around in the air. "Qu'est-ce que tu fais?" I laughed. Tim caressed my neck with his cheek. "I've missed you, my princess sunshine," he said into my shoulder, kissing my neck tenderly. "We saw each other this morning, Timothee." He embraced like he couldn't let me go. Like he wouldn't. "Oui, je l'ai fait. But whenever I'm apart from you for even one minute, it feels like a whole year of my life passed." He tightened his hold of me. His embrace felt more than just embrace. "Is everything alright?" I placed my head on his as we swayed with the spring winds.

"I am debating something in my mind," he whispered in thought. "Something that I have to do."

I turned around and carefully looked at his face. "What's going on inside that head of yours, Timothee?" He sighed and moved his hands to hold my face. Tim's gray eyes roamed my face as if he was trying to memorize every detail, every crinkle and dents. The longer he looked me, the more concerned I got. "Tim?" His thumb grazed my jaw, back and forth. "Damn it," he whispered. "Annette," he rested his forehead on mine, "I need to back to the city."

"Que vuex-tu dire?" I could tell he was serious about leaving. It was in the way he looked at me. "Why? Why do you have to leave?" He closed his eyes as if he was in pain. "I need to speak to my family. There's something I have to do." Son famille. Tim never spoke of them with me. I believe that was the first time he ever mentioned them to me. "What about the Guard?" Tim smirked at the mention of them. "They won't catch me, I promise you." Speaking of them, I realized that I haven't those specific men that searched for Tim after that day. "I still don't understand why you need to leave now," I took a small step back, "To leave me."

Tim's eyes glinted with secrecy. "I'll tell you when I get back."