Chapter 75 The House Along the Road

October 16, 1846

The road seemed different now that Thomas Vale knew where it led.

Before that afternoon, it had been little more than another stretch of countryside.

Now he noticed everything.

The wheel tracks.

The worn edges of the road.

The fences.

The small paths leading away toward distant fields.

Even the occasional footprints pressed into the soft earth.

Gideon walked beside him without saying much.

Thomas finally broke the silence.

"You knew all of this was here."

"I knew some of it."

"Some?"

"Nevermore Valley changes."

Thomas glanced toward him.

"Even the parts that look unchanged?"

"Especially those."

They continued.

The orchard gradually disappeared behind them.

Ahead, the road curved gently around a low rise.

At the top stood a house.

It was not large.

It was not grand.

But it was well cared for.

White-painted trim surrounded the windows, though the autumn weather had dulled some of it. A covered porch stretched across the front. Behind the house stood several outbuildings, each serving a different purpose.

Thomas slowed.

"Gideon."

"I see it."

The property was busy.

A woman carried a basket toward the house.

A man worked near a fence.

Two children were gathering something from beneath a row of fruit trees.

A small flock of chickens moved through the grass.

Farther back, Thomas could see what appeared to be a vegetable garden, much of it already prepared for the coming cold.

Beyond that were fields.

Not enormous fields.

But productive ones.

Thomas watched for several moments.

"They seem to manage quite well."

"They do."

"Do you know them?"

Gideon nodded.

"I know of them."

Thomas looked at him.

"That sounds different."

"It is."

The older man continued down the road.

Thomas followed.

They were close enough now to hear the clucking of chickens and the distant lowing of cattle.

A dog barked once.

Then again.

A young boy ran across the yard carrying a wooden pail.

The ordinary movement of the household made the property feel almost like a small village by itself.

Thomas smiled.

"I like it."

Gideon glanced at him.

"What?"

"The way everything works together."

Gideon looked toward the house.

"It takes work."

"I know."

Thomas looked at the garden.

"The garden feeds the kitchen."

He pointed toward the outbuildings.

"Those provide storage."

Then toward the livestock.

"And the animals provide more."

Gideon nodded.

"That is how many households survive."

Thomas looked thoughtful.

"We spend so much time looking at the Manor that we forget there are hundreds of lives beyond its gates."

"Not hundreds."

Thomas raised an eyebrow.

"Thousands, perhaps?"

"Eventually."

Thomas laughed.

"You are impossible."

"So I have been told."

They walked another few yards.

The woman in the yard looked toward the road.

Thomas gave a polite nod.

She returned it.

Nothing more.

There was no reason for anything more.

They were strangers passing on a public road.

Thomas respected that.

He turned away.

"I suppose we should not disturb them."

Gideon nodded.

"Curiosity is useful."

Thomas smiled.

"But?"

"Courtesy is better."

Thomas considered that.

He looked back only once.

The woman had returned to her work.

The children were still gathering fruit.

The man near the fence had moved farther down the property.

Nothing remarkable had happened.

And perhaps that was exactly what made the moment worth remembering.

They continued along the road.

After several minutes, Thomas opened his notebook.

He did not write the family's name.

He did not know it.

Instead, he wrote:

Working household beyond orchard road.

Garden.

Fruit trees.

Poultry.

Livestock.

Outbuildings.

Self-sustaining property.

He closed the notebook.

Gideon glanced over.

"That is quite a description."

"It is accurate."

"Accuracy is becoming your favorite companion."

Thomas smiled.

"Better than speculation."

Gideon nodded.

"Much better."

The road continued toward the distant valley.

Behind them, the household carried on with its afternoon.

Ahead waited Breedlove Manor.

Between the two stood a road that Thomas now understood a little better.

It was not merely a way from one place to another.

It was a thread connecting people.

And there were many more threads waiting to be discovered.