Give me your daughter and Ill keep quiet, Ian said.
Forgive me, I didnt see it. Be a decent man, Zach, dont ruin this
What did you call me, Zach? Have you forgotten my name? To you Im Ian Thorne.
Please, dont take this to the magistrate
Ian rose, straightened his shoulders so hard his shirt rustled. A fierce heat flashed in his dark eyes, scorching Zachary Blake, whose shoulders sagged with fear.
Zach had led the work crew for years, but Ian had only become parish council chairman a year ago. At first people doubted himhe was only twentyfive, barely out of school. Yet the district officers, impressed by his grip on farm affairs, his drive and common sense, gave him the nod.
Youre a thief, Zachary Blake, Ian said, his voice edged with steel. When the chair says so, you cant turn away; Ill bend the law like a shepherds crook.
There were the haystacks and they vanished at once, Ian continued. It was in the springdo you think Ive forgotten? Ill hand you over to the magistrate!
Listen, Ive always been honest, Ive worked the fields day after day I swear I didnt take anything. Ian, perhaps we can strike a deal? My wife wont survive this, and I have children
Children, you say? Ian mused. You want a settlement? You expect me to protect you and whats in it for me? If I do, there must be a price.
Zach clenched his jaw, watching the chairman, hoping he might be swayed.
And what about Emily? Shes a fine girl, a beauty what if I marry your daughter? I could even become her guardian.
Zachs face went pale. Think, Ian, shes still very young.
Its just a girl, I saw her on the farm the other dayshes already a bridetobe.
No bride yetshes only seventeen, still a child, still being nursed.
She should be nursing a living doll! Heres my condition: you give me your girl and Ill keep silent about your mistake. If you try to resist, Ill inform the district officials and youll end up in court. So decidehand over your daughter or go on baking biscuits, and perhaps youll never see your family again.
Zach fell to his knees. What do you ask of me? Its an unbearable burden! How could I force my own child to you? Am I a monster?
Ian returned to the table, sat down and produced a sheet of paper. Then well report it: Zachary Blake defied authority, meddling with public good
Wait, dont write, Zach whispered hoarsely, Ill speak to my daughter today.
Do that, Ian replied. Shes already being headstrong, daring to argue with you yet you call her a child.
Your fault, you took her Zach muttered.
If your soul is pulled, Ian smiled.
Zach sighed heavily. If only my soul
That evening Zach returned home, collapsed onto a bench and began pulling off his boots.
Whats wrong, love? Margaret asked.
On the table lay a pot of stew with potatoes, and the oven sent out the scent of fresh bread. Whats with the gloom?
Emily! he called. Shes just stepped out of the bedroom, her braid still loose.
What now, father?
He looked at her. The chairman has taken an interest in her he says he wants to marry her.
Emilys lips trembled, her hands fidgeted with her tangled hair, and she stood like a birch in a gale, shaking at his words: Why would I marry him? I dont want to
Margaret dropped what she was doing, gasped and sank onto a stool.
Zach sighed again. I know you dont want this, and I dont either. Its too soon for you but what can we do?
Father, why are we being forced?
The chairman thought it clever to drag a girl into the parish council, as if we were still living under a kings decree.
The chairman invented it, and now the officials are breathing down our necks.
Just refuse, and thats that, Margaret suggested.
Father, I wont go to him, hes a monster, everyone fears him.
Their younger son, Charlie, propped against the stove, listened intently.
Im sorry, I slipped up, my mind was poor, I didnt watch the haystacks in spring
Oh, father, Margaret cried, theyll lock you up
Ivan promises to lock me up he threatens to hide me, hes broken my trust.
Whats the point, if he wants to take Emily as his bride, hell also take you?
Its exactly thatyour daughter for my mistake I dont need such a soninlaw.
Dad, you should complain, twelveyearold Charlie interjected.
Silence, Ill manage without your advice, Zach barked. If you complain youll get whacked, our helper is found but who will listen to me? Hes still the chairman, even if hes still green.
Father, Im scared of him, Emily sobbed.
Zach looked at his daughter, then at Margaret, sighed and began to gather his things.
Where are you going? Margaret asked.
Pack, mother, clean shirt, dont forget the biscuits Ill go to Ian tomorrow morning, let him arrest me if he wishes. Im not a foe to my daughter, I wont force her, but its still too early for her.
Margaret rushed to him, embraced him, and whispered. Emily retreated to her bedroom and lay on the madeup bed, listening to her mothers cries and her fathers sighs. She hadnt even noticed any friends, only her cousin Fred, a year older, who was handsome enough. Shed never thought of the chairman; he was older, always scowling, always demanding, a total stranger.
Emily felt sorry for herself, for the sudden marriage proposal, and for her father, who might soon be gone forever. She began to braid her hair, tugging at it angrily, but felt only fury and despair. She returned to her parents, took the satchel from his hands.
Dont go anywhere, Father, she said, finally calling him father instead of dad.
If I had agreed, I wouldnt be hurting you now. Itll be hard for youbetter I serve my term, so you can live without tears.
Father! Emily clutched him. Dont leave! Hell lock us up without blinking. People will blame us, my brother Charlie, my sisterinlaw Antonine, who already has a husband and children.
Zach sat heavily on a chest by the door, which doubled as a bench. I know, Antonine will suffer, the shame will fall on the whole family theyll say Zach Blake stole the hay.
Tell him tomorrow Ill agree, let the matchmakers send word, Emily pleaded.
Margaret packed the belongings and placed them by the stove, wiping her eyes as she set the table.
That night Zach and Margaret lay awake, talking, turning, sighing heavily. In the next room Emilys sobs could be heard.
No, Margaret, shes scared of him, marriage will be a burden, and its too early now. Tomorrow, early, fetch my satchel, Ill go out to the yard and speak to Ian, Ill not give my daughter to him.
Margaret, hearing this, clung to her husband: Zach, as you say, well manage without you
At dawn they rose, careful not to wake the children. While they worked in the yard, Charlie slipped out the gate. By the time they finished, the sun was high.
Wheres our little boy? Zach asked.
I think he ran to school, Emily replied, I havent seen him since morning.
Alright, hell come back. Ill stay home a bit longer
Zach, stay home till noon, the enemy Ian wont get the chance, Margaret said, still hoping the danger would pass.
Why rush to jail? Zach thought.
Meanwhile, Charlie rode a cart with Uncle Matthew to the district centre.
Charlie, why are you heading to the centre? Matthew asked.
Ive a task from schoolto collect certificates. Im in a hurry.
Charlie fabricated the story, putting on a serious face. Matthew urged the horse, and they clattered into the town.
At the council office, Secretary Gushin, a sturdy, terse man of fortyfive, was approached by Charlie.
What do you want, lad? Gushin asked, surprised.
I need to see Alexei Mitrofanov.
For what?
I have a matter.
No children belong here.
Then Gushin appeared. Charlie, flustered, babbled, confusing the secretary.
Do you understand who youre accusing? Gushin warned, hearing the boys tale.
Its the plain truth! My sister and mother are screaming, my uncle is about to be jailed. He didnt take the haystacks, I swear
Where did you hear this?
Its Ian Blake who plotted to take Emily as his bride she refuses.
Gushin, after a pause, said, Fine, wait by the gate while Vasily brings his carriage.
Back in the village, Secretary Gushin entered the parish hall. Chairman Ian Zorin, having issued orders and inspected the fields, was reprimanding a lazy tractor driver. When the chairman saw Gushin, everyone fell silent. Ian straightened, ready to report on the days business.
Charlie lingered by the window, never one to complain, but now he felt pity for his father, who might be hauled off, and for his sister, who would be forced into a marriage she despised.
Gushin asked, So, tell me, how do you run things here?
Alexei Mitrofanov, everything as usual, we try
I see youve lost the haystacks that went missing in spring, and you only now raise a storm. Why stay silent before? Were you waiting for a convenient moment? And why are you sure Zach is guilty? Because his daughter rejected you?
Ian grew paler with each question.
I understand. Im guilty, he admitted. Its not proven that Zach did it; someone else took them. I tried to frighten him
Then youll answer for this, Gushin said quietly, his words like a whip. I put you forward, I can push you back youll face the magistrate for overstepping.
Charlie burst in, flinging open a door. There turn it on, he pointed to the radio, the war is on.
Gushin and Ian switched the set, and the broadcast announced the war, dated 22 June 1941.
Ian, now pallid, said, I wont dodge responsibility, but this isnt the time. Dont take me to court; let me go to the frontIll be conscripted anyway.
Gushin, stunned, leaned over the desk, pondering Ians fate.
The hay was eaten, Ian continued, we dont know whose cows ate it. Im needed on the front now.
Wholl stay behind? Gushin asked.
Others will step up, like Matthew Illich, too old for conscription but fit for the council
Alright, Zorin, I have other matters now. Ill think about you later.
A week later, carts lined the parish hall, villagers gathered, some weeping, some singing, some laughing.
Ian bowed to the crowd, removed his satchel and stepped into the circle. The village fiddler stretched his bow and raised the tempo. Ian, usually stern and unforgiving, transformed in an instant. He spread his arms, stomped, and began a lively dance. The villagers formed a tight ring around him.
Ah, Ian Thorne, those are mighty hands you could hold a wife, now youll have to hold a rifle, muttered Matthew Illich, now acting as chairman.
The Zorins waved goodbye to the soninlaw. Antonine clung to him like a lash, refusing to let go until the command Onward! sounded.
Hard winters and unpredictable springs pressed on the empty village, now full of women on farms, in fields, and in the woods. Zach Blake avoided conscription but worked as if three mens quota had been given to him.
Cold Siberianlike winters, capricious springs, and heavy days of sorrowful news passed.
Ah, Margaret sighed, looking at her daughter, it seemed wed escaped one disaster only for another. Now the new trouble pales beside the old, like a dying fire in the hearth.
Four years later the village had lost many, gained many widows and orphans, but the spring of 1945 revived hope as victory loomed.
Fedor returned in March after a wound, having been called up at eighteen. He was now a fine young man, a soughtafter groom.
Why are you turning away from Fedor? Margaret asked grownup Emily. Where else could you find a groom now? Dont turn your back on him, even if you think hes not right for you.
I understand, mother, but I just dont feel it
What feelings, Emily? Youll stay a girl forever.
A month later Ian Zorin came back. Women stared at the dusty road, noticing his coats empty sleeve. When they recognised him, they gasped: Its our Ian Thorne!
He was not yet thirty, his hair already silvered, his hands scarred.
Good day, ladies! How are you? he asked, Wheres my wife?
Such joy shes on the farm, where else would she be? Come, cheer her up; todays a celebrationour son has returned.
Ian settled quickly into work. At the first meeting after the war, people suggested electing him chairman again.
We already have a chairman, Ian said, Matthew Illich kept the council through the war; shouldnt he stay?
Selfremoval? the villagers asked.
It seems so.
He changed. No longer shouting, no longer proud as before the war; the conflict had polished his character.
Good to see you, Zachary Blake, Ian greeted first. Good to see you, Ian Thorne.
Come now, whats a patronymic? Im younger than you. I used to be boastful I thought of you through the war, regretted not asking forgiveness. So now I say: forgive me for those haystacks; I knew I wasnt at fault.
Zach coughed, Then forgive me too, Ian, I took those stacks
How so?
On the farm we had no feed for the calf, but the order from above said not to touch the stacks. I broke the order.
Zach removed his cap, clenched it, But I didnt take a single blade for myself, thats not my fault
I hear you, Ian said. You fed our cows, after all lets not dwell on the past it was long ago, before the war.
Charlie asked, now a teen, Dad, why are you fighting with him? He was a snake, now his stings been removed.
Charlie got a swift slap.
You know little! Youve not lived, yet you pass judgment. Ian survived the front, earned two medals, not a snake.
What, father? he said, Im remembering the past
Forget it know this: its easy to make a mistake, hard to fix it. He patted his sons shoulder. Alls well, son, the wars over, well live again.
The cart drivers and Emily, delighted, met at the yard. Large milk churns waited for loading.
Ian, tying a horse with one hand, turned. Emily, carrying a churn, came toward him. Hold on, lets do it together, he said, taking the other side. As they moved the churns, he gently rested his hand on her shoulder, Dont need pity, Ill manage.
She said, I only wanted to help.
And you did, he nodded, Everyone was lifting.
He nudged the horse, and she watched, her heart filling with pity. An odd compassion rose for Ian, the wounded veteran, despite earlier fear.
Days passed without Ian; teenage brothers of the Voloshin family visited instead. One warm May day Emily saw a familiar silhouette, a lone rider approaching.
He jumped from his cart, smiling. The wars over, Emily, the curse is lifted.
She leaned her head on his chest, both surprised, embracing. What a good news, weve waited so long
He, feeling her breath, stammered. I never imagined youd hug me. He wrapped one arm around her, I only have one hand to hold you.
She whispered, I have two hands, together we have threeenough for us.
He stroked her hair, lifted her veil, kissed her damp cheeks, then held her close until her breathing quickened. I wont let go. I survived for a reason.
Margaret sorted the chest by the door, filling it with embroidered shawls, towels, and sheets. She packed pillows meant as a dowry for Emily, placing them atop the chest. To Emily it seemed a true treasure, though sheAnd in the quiet of the hearth, they learned that honor reclaimed through humility is worth more than any title or bargain.
