TUESDAY TALELS - WORD PROMPT "YEAR"

 

Welcome!

This week of the beginning of the new year, our word prompt is "year"! Not very original, but fun nonetheless. We have more about poor Sam's fate this week. When you're done, bop on over to the other writers of Tuesday Tales. Find their wonderful stories HERE. 

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“Sit down, son. How nice for you to pay me a visit,” Abiel said, taking the comfortable chair by the fire.

“Yessir,” Sam said, taking off his hat.

“Something on your mind?” Abiel prompted.

Sam twisted his hand in his hand. This was it. The moment of truth.

“Yessir. I was fixin’ to ask your daughter, Violet, to be my wife. If you don’t have any objections,” Sam blurted out.

Abiel raised his eyebrows. “Violet marry you? What are your prospects, Sam?”

“I’m fixin’ to take over one of Mr. Fitch’s farms,” Sam twisted his hat in his hands. “It’s already got a nice little house. Potatoes and carrots planted. I got seeds for squash, and plenty more. It’s got apple trees, too. We’ll have a big harvest in the fall. My sister’s gonna give me some chickens, too. So, we’ll have plenty of food. Violet won’t go hungry. I’ll take care of her. Take care of her real good.”

“You think so?” Abiel tamped down the tobacco in his pipe and lit a match.

“We’ll get flour and butter from the Inn. My grandma always has some to spare.”

“I see. And you think she’ll be happy there?” Abiel puffed on the pipe, drawing in the flame from the match.

“Yessir. She said she wanted to be a farmer’s wife.”

“You won’t work her too hard, will you?” Abiel cast a severe glance Sam’s way.

“No sir. No sir. I’ll take care of her.”

“I see.”

“I love her, Mr. Lee,” Sam lied.

“You do? Pretty quick, I’d say.”

“When love hits, you don’t need years to see it. At least that’s what my grandma always says. Said she knew she’d marry my grandpa same day she met him.”

Abiel nodded. “I see.”

“Do I got your permission, Mr. Lee?” Sam untwisted his hat then twisted it up the other way.

“If Violet agrees, you have my blessing.”

“I do?” Sam’s voice went up an octave.

“You do. See you do take good care of her, Samuel Chesney. She’s the apple of my eye.”

“I will, Mr. Lee. I will. I promise.”

“You’re a fine lad. I believe you. Now run along. It’s late.” Abiel Lee stood, tapped his pipe on the brick of the fireplace and yawned. Sam took the hint and scooted ahead to the door.

Once outside, he let out a breath. He’d done it. Now all he had to do was make the proposal to Violet. After what he’d just been through, that seemed easy.

 

 

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