Page 49 of Dancing On Air

“Please, Albert,” begged Eleanor. “Let him help you. Connor is my friend. He means well. Don’t be afraid of him.”

“Yes, let him help you, Albert,” cried his wife.

Eleanor grabbed the hands of the girls, while Raven kept the dog away and Lark took the boys out of danger as well. They all watched as Connor reached down and took ahold of the plow. His face turned red and his muscles bulged as he lifted the plow off Albert. “Fast, move your leg,” said Connor.

“I- I can’t move it,” cried Albert.

“We’ll help.” Eleanor shot forward, and with Raven’s help they pulled the man away and Connor slowly let the plow back down.

“Let me see your leg, you old fool.” Edna got down to inspect it.

“Is it broken?” asked Lark.

“Nay, it’s all right,” said Edna, feeling her husband’s leg. “I think he’s just twisted it, that’s all. Albert, you’re going to have some nasty bruises.”

“I see blood!” shouted little Hamlin.

“Let me see.” Eleanor got down on her knees in the dirt, pulling back one of the legs of Albert’s trews. “It is a scratch that is bleeding, but it’s not deep,” reported Eleanor. “I am sure I can wrap it up and it’ll heal on its own.”

“That blade was on his leg,” said Edna. “In another minute, it could have dropped further and cut off his leg. Thank you, Connor, for helping him. If you hadn’t been here, it would have been so much worse.”

“Yes, thank you,” said Albert, clearing his throat. “You were a big help.”

“Let’s get you in the house and clean you up,” said Edna.

“I’ll help him,” said Connor, helping the man to stand, bringing him to the house. The others followed. “You need to sit down and rest, Albert, or that leg will never heal.”

“I can’t rest. I have to get the garden turned over and the peas need to be harvested before it rains. Plus, I’ve got to kill a chicken for dinner.”

“Albert, you will not be able to dig with a shovel for at least a few days or mayhap a week.” Edna brought a rag and water over to clean his wound. “What are we going to do?”

“I can help you,” said Connor, causing them all to look up. “I’ll have the garden turned over in less than an hour. Just put a shovel in my hand and watch what I can do.”

Eleanor had seen him with a shovel at the gong pits. Even though Connor was born of noble blood, he could outwork any commoner. Plus, he was as strong as an ox.

“Nay. Nay, we can’t ask you to do that,” said Albert, raising his hand and shaking his head.

“Why not?” asked Eleanor. “You need the help. And I can take the boys and harvest the peas before the rain comes.”

“Yes. We can all help,” said Raven.

“Nay. You are nobles,” said Edna. “This work is below you.” Her gaze roamed over to Connor.

“I agree the women shouldn’t do the work,” said Connor. “However, I’m not a noble. Not anymore, that is. I’m willing to help you, unless you are embarrassed to have me here because of who I am.”

“Nay, we are not embarrassed,” said Edna. “Are we Albert?”

When Albert seemed as if he wasn’t going to agree, Edna elbowed him in the side.

“Nay, we’re not embarrassed to have you here. It’s fine, if you want to finish digging up the garden,” said Albert. “I need to transplant the winter crops I started, and I am already behind schedule.”

“I want to help you dig the garden too,” said seven-year-old Bertram, seeming anxious to do it.

“Why not,” said Connor. “Sure, you can help me.”

“There are extra shovels in the barn,” Albert told them.

“I want to pick peas,” said Hamlin.