Harvest season had come to Oakridge Village, and nearly every household was busy from dawn to dusk.
Beyond the village, the wheat fields had turned a rich golden color, the heavy heads of grain swaying beneath the autumn wind.
The men headed out before sunrise with tools over their shoulders, while the women and older children worked alongside them.
Some tied the cut wheat into bundles, while others drove carts back and forth between the fields and the barns.
By noon, the village itself was quieter than usual.
Most people were still working in the fields, leaving only the occasional clucking of chickens or the low calls of livestock drifting from behind the rows of stone cottages.
On the western side of the village, a woman’s voice came from inside a small stone farmhouse.
“Elena, slow down.
Don’t drop the basket.”
A moment later, the heavy wooden door opened, and a plump young girl carefully stepped over the threshold with a wicker basket held tightly in both arms.
She was sixteen years old, dressed in a loose, light-brown linen dress with a faded apron tied around her waist.
The dress had clearly been made with extra room for her, yet it still looked a little tight.
Her long brown hair had not been properly combed either.
It was gathered into a crooked braid that hung over one shoulder, with several loose strands sticking to her round cheeks.
The basket in her arms, however, was held with great care.
Inside were several pieces of rye bread fresh from the hearth, a small jar of stewed beans, a few slices of cold meat, and two apples, all covered with a clean piece of rough cloth.
It was lunch for the Miller family.
Most of the family had gone to work in the eastern wheat fields, and Elena’s mother had too much to do at home, so she had asked Elena to bring the food to them.
“The east…
big wheat field.”
Elena stood outside the door and quietly repeated what her mother had told her.
She looked down at the basket, then toward the road leading out of the village, as though trying very hard to remember where she was supposed to go.
“That’s right.
Follow the stone wall until you see the old oak tree, then turn right.”
Her mother remained in the doorway, still looking worried.
“Once you get there, come home with your father.
Don’t wander off to the river by yourself.
Understand?”
Elena nodded hard.
“I understand.”
She hugged the basket closer and started down the narrow path in front of the house.
Her mother watched until Elena’s round figure disappeared around the stone wall before finally turning back inside.
Elena did not walk very quickly.
The basket was a little heavy for her, and after carrying it for a while, her arms began to ache.
Every so often, she had to stop, shift it into a more comfortable position, and then continue on her way.
Oakridge was not a large village.
A few dozen homes were scattered along two main roads, most of them built from the gray stone common in the area.
Their dark gray or brown walls were rough and uneven, and their roofs were covered with wooden shingles or thick layers of thatch.
Behind most houses stood small vegetable gardens, chicken coops, and barns.
The wealthier families owned two-story stone houses with larger windows.
Beyond the village, low stone walls divided the fields and pastures, stretching far into the distance.
As Elena passed one of the houses, two women spreading flax out to dry in the yard quickly noticed her.
“Isn’t that Elena Miller?”
One of them looked up, surprised to see the girl walking alone.
“She’s out by herself?”
The other woman glanced at the basket in Elena’s arms and quickly understood.
“She must be taking lunch to the fields.
It’s harvest season.
I imagine everyone in the Miller family who can work is already out there.”
Neither woman bothered to lower her voice.
Hearing her name, Elena stopped and looked toward them.
“Lunch.”
She lifted the basket slightly, as if carefully explaining why she was outside.
The woman paused for a moment before smiling.
“We know.
You’d better hurry along, or your father and the others really will go hungry.”
Elena nodded, not entirely sure whether the woman was joking, then continued down the road.
Only after she had gone some distance did one of the women sigh.
“Poor girl.”
“She is,” the other agreed as she continued arranging the flax.
“When she was little, it wasn’t so noticeable.
But the older she gets, the more obvious it becomes that she’s different from the other children.
The Millers have had plenty to worry about because of her.”
Both women glanced in the direction Elena had gone.
“I heard her engagement to the Carter boy still hasn’t been called off.”
“It hasn’t.”
“Adrian is seventeen now, isn’t he?”
“About that age.
He’s been studying in Clearwater.
I heard he’s doing very well.
His teacher even said he might have a chance to continue his studies at an academy in the city.”
The engagement between the Carter and Miller families had been arranged many years ago, when the two children were still young and the families were much closer than they were now.
No one had expected things to turn out this way.
As the children grew older, the engagement began to seem less and less suitable.
Adrian had spent the past few years studying in town.
He was a good student, handsome, and considered one of the more promising boys among the nearby villages.
Elena, on the other hand, still worried her family whenever she had to travel anywhere beyond the village by herself.
Over time, the childhood engagement naturally became a favorite topic of village gossip.
Elena knew nothing about the conversation taking place behind her.
By then, she had already reached the edge of the village.
The road was wider here.
One path led east toward the wheat fields, while the other continued toward Clearwater.
Low stone walls bordered both sides of the road, and beyond them stretched fields that had already begun to be harvested.
Elena stopped at the fork.
She looked left.
Then right.
Her face slowly became confused.
Her mother had said to follow the stone wall until she reached the old oak tree…
And then which way was she supposed to turn?
Elena tried hard to remember.
After a while, she simply crouched beside the stone wall with the basket in her arms, concentrating as she tried to recall her mother’s instructions.
Just then, the sound of wooden wheels came from farther down the road.
An old wagon loaded with crates and burlap sacks was approaching from the direction of Clearwater.
The driver spotted Elena crouching near the roadside and quickly called out.
“Miss!
Move aside!”
Elena snapped back to attention.
She hurried to her feet, clutching the basket as she shuffled closer to the stone wall.
The wagon soon passed in front of her, its wheels rolling over the dry dirt road and sending a thin cloud of dust into the air.
Elena coughed twice and rubbed her nose.
When the dust finally cleared, she noticed someone farther down the road.
A boy was walking toward the village.
He looked as though he had just returned from Clearwater.
He wore a clean, pale shirt and dark trousers beneath a deep brown vest.
A blue-green canvas schoolbag hung from one shoulder.
The autumn wind had left his dark brown hair slightly messy, while dust from the road covered the bottoms of his trousers and boots.
Elena stared at him for a few seconds.
Then her confused expression disappeared, and her eyes immediately lit up.
“Adrian!”
The boy’s steps slowed.
He had clearly noticed her as well.
School had closed for two days during the harvest season, and Adrian had only just returned from Clearwater.
During the entire walk home, he had been thinking about the Latin exercises his teacher had assigned and the last field of wheat he would have to help his father harvest once he got back.
He had not expected to run into the one person he least wanted to see the moment he reached the village.
More precisely, his fiancée.
Not that Adrian had ever liked calling her that.
Elena noticed none of his reluctance.
The moment she saw him, she hugged the basket against herself and happily walked toward him.
“Adrian, you’re back!”
She was so pleased that even her steps were quicker than before.
As the distance between them shortened, Adrian frowned.
“Stay there.”
Elena stopped immediately.
She looked down at herself, then back at him, clearly unable to understand why she was not allowed to come any closer.
“Why?”
Adrian did not answer at once.
He knew Elena meant no harm.
But over the years, whenever the two of them appeared together, someone in the village would inevitably make jokes about the engagement their families had arranged when they were children.
When he was younger, Adrian could pretend not to hear them.
Now he was seventeen.
Before long, he would have to start making real decisions about his future, and he had grown increasingly uncomfortable with everyone treating his marriage to Elena as something already decided.
Elena, however, understood none of that.
All she knew was that Adrian was her fiancé.
Her mother had told her long ago that one day, the two of them would get married.
Suddenly remembering something, Elena quickly placed the basket on top of the stone wall and began searching through it.
Adrian watched her, his frown deepening.
“What are you looking for?”
“This.”
Elena finally pulled out an apple.
It was not particularly large, but it was the redder and better-looking of the two apples in the basket.
She stared at it for a moment.
Clearly, she did not really want to give it away.
After hesitating, however, she still held it out to Adrian.
“For you.”
Adrian looked at the apple in front of him but did not take it.
Elena waited.
When he still did not move, she stretched her hand a little farther toward him.
“It’s sweet.”
“I don’t want it.”
Elena froze.
“But…”
“Elena.”
Adrian interrupted her, his voice more serious now.
“Don’t save things for me anymore.”
Elena stared at him blankly.
She did not seem to understand exactly what he meant.
All she understood was that Adrian did not want the apple.
Slowly, she pulled her hand back.
“You don’t like apples?”
Adrian opened his mouth.
The words he had been ready to say suddenly became much harder to explain.
In the end, he looked away.
“It’s not about the apple.”
That only confused Elena more.
While they were talking, several young villagers happened to be returning from the fields.
One of them spotted the two standing together and immediately recognized Adrian.
“Adrian!
You just got home and you’ve already run into your fiancée?”
The others looked over as well.
Someone laughed.
“If Mr.
Carter knew you were this popular, maybe he’d be talking to the Millers about the wedding tonight.”
Adrian’s expression darkened immediately.
Elena, however, completely missed the mockery in their voices.
Instead, the moment she heard the word wedding, her eyes brightened again.
“Wedding?”
She turned to Adrian, open excitement appearing on her face.
Adrian looked at her expression, then heard the poorly suppressed laughter from the others nearby.
The irritation he had been holding back finally rose to the surface.
He was silent for a moment before speaking.
“There won’t be a wedding.”
The smile on Elena’s face disappeared.
Adrian tightened his grip on the strap of his schoolbag and looked directly at her.
“Elena, I’m not going to marry you.”
The autumn wind swept across the distant wheat fields, carrying with it the soft rustling of dry stalks.
Elena stood beside the stone wall, still holding the red apple she had wanted to give him—the one she had liked too much to eat herself.
She stared at the boy in front of her.
This time, she said nothing for a very long while.