Give me your daughter and Ill keep quiet, he declared.
Im sorry, I missed it, be reasonable, Nigel, dont ruin everything
What am I to you, Nigel? Have you forgotten my name? To you Im Nigel Evers.
Mercy, dont take this to court
Nigel stood, straightened his shoulders until his shirt creaked. A fierce spark lit his dark eyes, scorching the frail George, whose shoulders sagged with terror.
George had been a foreman for ages, but only a year ago hed become the council chairman. At first folks doubted himjust twentyfive, barely old enough to buy a pint. Yet the district officers, impressed by his knack for farm business, his keenness and common sense, gave him the nod.
Thief, George Archibald, Nigel said, his voice ringing with steel. If I say something, you cant wriggle out of it Ill bend the law like a shepherds crook.
There were hay stacks, and they vanished, the chairman went on. It was spring, you think Ive forgotten? Ill hand you over to the magistrates!
Listen, Ive been honest all my life, ploughing the fields, never taken a thing, George pleaded. Nigel, perhaps we can strike a deal? My wife wont survive this, and Ive got children
Children, you say? Nigel mused. You want a bargain? You want protection? Whats in it for me? If I cover you, I need something in return.
George tightened his grip, watching the chairman, hoping a compromise might surface.
And your little girl, Ellie shes pretty, isnt she? What if I marry your daughter? Ill take her as my bridetobe.
Georges face turned ashen. Think, Nigel, shes still a girl
Still a girl? Nigel scoffed. I saw her on the farm the other day, already a bridetobe.
Not a bride yet, shes only seventeen, still a childdoll, being nursedinarms.
Time to grow up, George. Heres my deal: you hand me your daughter, Ill keep my mouth shut about your mistake. If you refuse, Ill inform the district boss and youll end up in court. So decide give me your girl or be left to bake biscuits, and youll never see your family again.
George fell to his knees. What do you want from me? This is an impossible burden! How could I possibly hand over my daughter? Am I a monster?
Nigel returned to the table, fetched a sheet of paper and said, Alright, well file it: George Ziegler went against authority, meddled with community assets
Hold on, dont write that, George whispered hoarsely, Ill speak to Ellie today.
Do that, Nigel replied. Shes a headstrong little thing, shell probably argue back, and youll still call her a child.
Fine, youre to blame, you took hershe got scared, George muttered.
If youre feeling sorry, Ill smile, Nigel said with a grin.
George exhaled heavily. If only I had a soul
He trudged home, collapsed onto a bench and started pulling off his boots.
Whats the matter? Maggie asked.
A pot of stew sat on the table, fresh bread was baking, filling the cottage with a warm aroma. Whats with the long face?
Ellie! he called. Shes just stepped out of the loft, hasnt even braided her hair yet.
What, Uncle?
He looked at her. Our chairman has his eye on our daughter wants to marry her.
Ellies lips trembled, her hands fidgeted with her tangled hair, and she stood like a trembling birch. Why would he? I dont want him
Maggie dropped her cup, sat down heavily.
George sighed again. I know you dont want this, and I dont either. Its too early for you what are we to do?
Uncle, who thought of dragging a girl into council business? Were not living in the Dark Ages
The chairman invented it, and now the officials are breathing down our necks
So just refuse, thats all.
Uncle, I wont go to him, hes a terror, everyones scared of him.
Little Charlie, their youngest, leaned against the stove, listening intently.
Im to blame, I missed those hay stacks in spring
Oh dear, theyll lock you up, Maggie warned.
And Nigel promised to lock me up he swore hed bury me, hes broken my trust, she added.
So what now? If he wants to marry Ellie, does he intend to keep you too?
Yes, George replied, hand over my daughter for my mistake I dont need such a soninlaw.
Dad, you should complain, thirteenyearold Charlie interjected.
Shut up, Ill manage without your advice, George snapped. If you start shouting, Ill have you tossed out, you little troublemaker wholl listen to me? Hes still the chairman, even if hes green.
Im scared of him, Ellie sobbed.
George glanced at his daughter, then at Maggie, sighed and began to pack.
Where are you going? Maggie asked.
Pack, mother, a clean shirt, dont forget the biscuits Ill head to Nigel tomorrow morning, let him throw me in jail if he wants, Im not handing my girl over, its too early for her.
Maggie rushed to him, embraced him, and shouted. Ellie retreated to the loft and lay on the madeup bed, listening to her mothers cries and her fathers sighs. She hadnt even noticed any of her friends; only little Freddy, Matildas son, a year older, seemed to pay her any attention. She thought of the chairmannever even a thought of himbecause his gloomy face always scared her, always shouting and scolding. He was a stranger to her.
She felt sorry for herself, not having looked around before a forced marriage, and for her father, who might disappear forever. She started braiding her hair, pulling at it in frustration, feeling only anger and despair. Then she went to her parents, took the satchel from his hands.
Dont go anywhere, Father, she said, for the first time as an adult, calling him father instead of uncle.
If I were willing, George pounded his chest, it wouldnt hurt me so much. Youll have a hard time with him Id rather serve my own sentence, so you can live without tears.
Father! Ellie clutched him. Dont go! Theyll lock you up, they wont blink. And theyll curse us, my brother Charlie, my sister Antonia, who already has a husband and children.
George slumped on the chest that served as a bench by the door. I know, Antonia will suffer too, the whole family will be shamed theyll say I, George Ziegler, turned hay into rubbish.
Tell him tomorrow Im willing, let the matchmakers do their work, Ellie pleaded.
Maggie gathered the packed belongings, stored them by the stove, wiped her eyes and set the table.
That night George and Maggie lay awake, tossing and turning, hearing Ellies sobs from the next room.
No, Maggie, shes terrified of him, marriage would be a burden, still too early for these times. Do this: early tomorrow fetch my satchel, Ill head out and tell Nigel whatever he wants, but I wont hand over my daughter.
Maggie, hearing this, clung to George. George, as you say, well manage without you
At dawn they rose, careful not to wake the children. While they were out in the yard, Charlie slipped out the gate. By the time they returned the sun was high.
Wheres our little rascal? George asked.
Probably ran off to school, Ellie replied, I havent seen him since morning.
Fine, hell come back. Ill stay home a while longer
George, stay home till lunch, well need you to keep the farm running, the enemy wont have time for us, Maggie said, still hoping some misfortune would pass them by.
Right, why rush to prison? George decided.
Meanwhile Charlie rode a cart with Uncle Martin, heading for the district centre.
Charlie, why the hurry to the centre? Martin asked.
School sent me to fetch the certificates, Charlie replied, though hed fabricated the excuse, playing the serious boy.
Martin urged the horse onward, the clatter of barrels echoing as they entered the district hub.
There, the first secretary of the council, Mr. Graham, a sturdy, taciturn fiftyfouryearold, stepped out. Charlie, oddly, thought he could help his father and Ellie.
What do you want, lad? Graham asked, surprised.
I need Alex Mitford.
Why?
I have business.
Children arent welcome here.
Then Graham himself appeared. Charlie leapt, babbled, bewildering the secretary.
Hold on, you cant slander the chairman, the secretary warned.
This is genuine pioneer spirit! My sister and mother are wailing, my uncle is about to be jailed, and he didnt take those hay stacks, I swear
Where did you hear that?
Its all Nigel Archibalds doing, trying to snatch Ellie for marriage she refuses.
Alright, I was just coming by wait by the porch till Mr. Vasily brings the cart.
The secretary, after a quick visit to the council, found Nigel Zorin issuing orders, inspecting fields, reprimanding the lazy tractor driver Pete. Seeing Graham, everyone fell silent. Nigel straightened, ready to report on daily matters.
Charlie roamed the council hall, looking through windows. He didnt like complaining, even when wronged, but his fathers plight made him uneasy.
So, tell me, how do you run things here? Graham asked.
Alex Mitford, as usual, doing our best
I see youve lost your hay this spring, yet you only now raise a fuss. Why stay silent before? Waiting for a convenient moment? And why are you so sure my foreman Ziegler is at fault? Because your daughter refused you?
The council secretarys questions came fast, catching the chairman offguard.
Nigel grew paler with each query.
Got it. Im guilty, he admitted. Its not proven; someone else took the hay I tried to scare him.
Thats your answer, Graham said softly but firmly. I appointed you, I can remove you youll stand trial for overstepping.
Charlie burst in, flung the door open. There turn it on, he pointed at the radio. Turn it on, please war.
They switched on the receiver and heard the announcement of war, dated 22 June 1940.
Nigel, pale, said, I bear responsibility, but its not the time. Dont take me to court, let me go to the front; Ill be called up anyway.
Graham, stunned, leaned over the table, pondering Nigels fate.
The hays gone, who knows whose cattle ate it. Im needed at the front now.
Wholl stay here? Graham asked.
Men will step up, like Martin Ives, too old for conscription but fit for council work.
Alright, Zorin, Ive other matters
A week later, several carts gathered outside the council hall, villagers milling about, crying, singing, laughing.
Nigel bowed, shed his satchel and stepped into the circle. The village fiddler cranked up the tune, and Nigel, usually stern and relentless, suddenly twirled, stamping his feet in time.
Ah, Nigel Evers, youve got hands for both a wife and a rifle now, muttered Martin Ives, now the acting chairman.
The Ziegler family waved goodbye to their wouldbe soninlaw. Antonia clung as if to a whip, until a shout: Off with the carts!
Hard years followed in the empty village, women taking over farms, fields, and timber work. George Ziegler avoided the draft, but worked as if three mens quota had been given to him.
Cold English winters, unpredictable springs, and grim news kept coming.
Oh, sighed Maggie, looking at her daughter, it seemed a disaster, then another arrives. Todays trouble pales compared to yesterdays fire dying out in the hearth.
Four years later the village had lost many, but spring of 45 revived hope.
Fedor returned in March, after a wound sent him home. Hed been called up at eighteen, now a dashing suitor.
Why are you turning away from Fedor? Ellie asked, now a grown woman. Where else will you find a husband? Hell even propose.
I get it, Mum, but Im not feeling it
What feelings, Ellie? Youll stay a spinster then.
A month later Nigel returned. Women stared as he trudged the dusty road, a missing sleeve on his coat.
Good day, ladies! How are you? Wheres my mother?
My mothers on the farm, you should go cheer her up, todays a celebration my sons back.
Soon after, at the first council meeting, they suggested reelecting Nigel as chairman.
We have a chairman, Nigel said, Martin Ives kept the farm running through the war, shouldnt he stay on?
Selfremoval? the villagers asked.
It seems so.
He changed. No more shouting, no swagger. War had polished his character.
Good to see you, George Archibald, Nigel greeted, we meet again.
Good to see you, Nigel Evers.
Come now, whats with the patronymic? Im younger than you. I used to be cocky I thought of you through the war, regretted not asking forgiveness. So here I am: forgive me for those hay stacks, I knew I wasnt at fault
George coughed, Then forgive me too, I was the one who moved the stacks
How?
Its simple. The cows on my farm had nothing to eat, and a higher command told us not to touch the stacks. I broke the order, took a bit for my herd. I wasnt the only one who broke it
Charlie interjected, Dad, why are you yammering?
He got a swift tap on the head.
You know nothing! You havent lived, yet you judge.
Nigel, with two medals, wasnt a snake.
Father, Im remembering the past
Forget it one things clear: its easy to err, hard to fix. He patted his sons shoulder. All right, son, the wars over, well live on.
Soon, Ellie, thrilled, went to the cart yard. Big milk barrels waited for loading.
Nigel, tying up a horse with one hand, turned. Ellie, carrying a barrel, said, Hold on, lets do it together. He took the other side, she the opposite. While he pushed the barrels, she untied the horse, and his hand rested gently on her shoulder.
I dont need pity, he whispered, Ill manage.
I only wanted to help.
You already have, he nodded toward the yard, everyones pitching in.
He nudged the horse, and Ellie watched, her heart softening. A strange pity rose for Nigel, the wounded veteran.
For days Nigel didnt return; teenage brothers of the Voloshins visited instead. One warm May day Ellie saw a familiar silhouette, a lone sleeve fluttering in the distance.
He leapt from his cart, ran toward her, smiling. The wars over, Ellie, that cursed thing is finally done.
She leaned her head on his chest, surprised, and they embraced. What good news, she whispered, weve waited so long
He, feeling her breath, stammered, I dont have enough arms to hug you.
She whispered, I have two hands, together well have three!
He brushed her hair, lifted her veil, kissed her tearslick face, then held her tight, breathless. I wont let go! I survived for a reason.
Later, Maggie sorted the chest by the door, filling it with embroidered blankets, towels, and sheets. She placed pillows, a wedding dowry for Ellie, which seemed a treasure. Yet Ellies joy lay not in the linens but in the thought of her future husband, once a stranger she never wanted.
NigUnder the warm glow of the evening sky, Ellie finally embraced the future with Nigel, their laughter mingling as the village healed around them.
