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I wondered why he didn't go join the other deer that shared the hay for the beef stock.Now that the hogs were gone, the only chores left were to feed the one steer in the barn we were fattening up for the freezer, and there was always feeding and watering the chickens. It wouldn't be safe to let the chickens out in their big yard with the snow on the ground. Visiting hawks and eagles would be too tempted to swoop down looking for a meal. The chickens had to stay in the smaller covered yard.I hurried through feeding the steer in the barn, and avoided the pet deer's antlers as he followed me around the barn area. I finally put some grain and hay under the lean-to where the cows used to wait for milking to give the buck an area to come to.Esteban drove up the lane as I walked to the house. I waved at him as soon as he stopped and asked him to come inside and have some coffee with me.Once inside, I asked, "Shouldn't you be home milking right now?" The family has it taken care of, Mike.. Bridget, Jim thought, was finally his. Bridget Ryan had been the prettiest girl in town, and now she was Bridget Powell; and she was the prettiest woman in town and his wife. He’d wanted her for years, and now he had her. Jim parked in the street in front of the house. With Harriet and Mildred still cleaning up the reception at the club, he took Bridget’s coat himself. He hung it in the hall closet with his. He led her upstairs.“My room,” he said opening the door. He was glad to see that Mildred had cleaned it since he’d dressed for the wedding. “Our room, now.” He struck a match and lit two gas mantles. The light dispersed the gloom of dusk from the room.Bridget looked around. It was a very nice room, decorated with Yale pennants to show Jim’s college experience. It was neat and clean, but she thought the bed was intrusive. It took up much of the floor space and more of the space in her thoughts.“Don’t you want to get out of your things?” Jim asked. He took off his own tuxedo jacket.
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