Chapter 45

Elowyn shivered and wrapped the scarf more firmly around her throat. She crouched and tugged another potato from the hard, cold ground, tossing it into the basket at her feet before lugging the basket a few feet down the row.

Two rows down, Brenna and Lysa, both huddled against the cold wind, were busy digging potatoes out of the ground as well. It was the last of the potatoes and Elowyn was glad. Although she usually enjoyed being outdoors, the days were growing so cold that it was pure misery to be outside.

She pulled her fingerless gloves up more snugly, sighing a little at the sight of her red and chapped fingers. She used to have pretty hands—the nails perfectly manicured and the skin soft and smooth. Now, months of scrubbing and cleaning and digging in the dirt had made her hands rough and her nails broken and jagged.

She smiled ruefully. There seemed to be a permanent row of dirt under her broken nails that refused to disappear no matter how hard she scrubbe