“Oh geese,” Ella groaned, holding onto her waist, grinning and fetching the basket of apple cider and transferring them into the barns. She caught sight of a brown woolly shirt tucked at the corner. Dirt and cobweb had infested on it so badly that the brown coveted to dark brown. She surged close now, laid hold of the cloth; and breathed uneasily. The cloth was familiar as the sky that caked up there. He had always worn it during work hours – it was her late husband’s cloths she was ...