Mutter

[Brother Prime]

"I swear, if that boy ain't 'ere by 'alf past I am gonna dock 'im 'alf a days wage!"

Griffon McBride stormed around the yard of the Feed and Fert absolutely fuming. Feed and Fert. Gods how he hated that name. He had wanted to call the farm supply store the Seed and Shit, but Noooo, Gertrude had insisted that profanity would drive away customers. Silly woman. That's what they sold anyway, seed and shit. Seemed a good enough name to Grif.

About three weeks ago Jashley Faran had come seeking work after finding the work at the blacksmith shop a bit too much for him to handle. Grif felt sorry for the boy, being newly married and with a brand new baby and all, so he'd hired him on the spot.

Jash had been a good worker. Always early, never took lunch until Grif reminded him. Delivered more hay than any of the boys before him. Seemed more than a bit odd that he hadn't come in yet.

"'alf past I tell ya Gert, or the boy is fired! Fired I say!"

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Elizabeth Faran went about her morning routine, preparing the food for this evenings supper with the babe, Rose, swaddled at her hip in a sling.

Carrots and potatoes washed and cut. The half pound of meat that Jash had bought with his first pay cut into tiny pieces for the stew. If she cut carefully Liz could make three pots from that meat.

Rose gurgled gently as her mother moved about the room, a smile on her tender features.

As Liz dropped the vegetables into the pot she noticed something wrong. Jash's lunch bucket was still on the table. Fear gripped her heart for a moment, as she dashed to check the yard. No sign of him there.

"Well, I suppose he might have forgotten it." Liz said with a laugh. The baby gave a coo as if in response. Throwing her shawl about her shoulders, Liz set off to the Feed and Fert to bring Jash his lunch.

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Jashley Farran hadn't a care in the world this morning. He cared not that he was late for work. He cared not that he would be fired. He cared not that he had nearly frightened his beautiful wife to death. He cared not that she would walk the four miles to the Feed and Fert with Rose in tow.

Jashley Faran cared not at all. About anything.

Jashley had ceased caring about anything about ten o'clock the previous evening.

Now he sat. Sat near enough to Silver lake that he could have watched the sun rise and set over it's waters. Sat serenely with his hands in his lap, a dim look upon his features. Sadly, for Jashley, Grif, Gert, Liz and Rose, his hands were no longer attached to his wrists. They simply sat in his lap, covered in the blood that had flowed down from his neatly cut throat.

Jashley Faran, had not a care....in this world.