• December Bride
  • Part One



to the main road.

It was pleasant, thought Sarah, to sit up here beside Hamilton, a
strong farmer going to market. Pleasant to watch the rhythmic plunge of
the glossy haunches before her and listen to the subdued dash of the
harness. There was a richness in the twinkling of the grassgreen
spokes and glittering hubs against the sullen hedges. There seemed even
to be a richness in the soft yeilding of the springs to the road.

And she had made peace with her mother. Her heart quickened as
she remembered the touch of those withered lips on her cheek. Ah, it
warmed the heart to know that she could go to her mother again with her
troubles. A shadow stirred deep down in her soul at the thought and she
turned resolutely to the present. Slowly, like a late Spring in her life
her desires were building to fullfilment. A hearth, a home to preside
over, the daily life of cattle and fowl in her hands, the desires of
her own body - she winced and turned away again from that impalpable
shadow that hung in the depths of her mind.

They passed heavy orange-coloured carts, lurching and clanging,
but Hamilton and she rushed swiftly past, swaying gently in their seats.
They overtook the children going to school and Sarah laughed when they
raced the cart, peep-peeping at the turkeys that craned their naked
ridiculous heads from the basket under the seat, she laughed again
when the children fell behind and threw themselves with smoking breath
on the roadside banks. Hamilton smiled at her pleasure, his eyes
watchful on the road, the reins moving in his strong alert hands.

The horse’s stride lengthened on the thawing road and soon they
were passing through the little clachan of Moneyrea, and the haze of

Spring, Turkeys
Linen Hall Library, "Hanna073", Northern Ireland Literary Archive, accessed Sat, 05/21/2022 - 00:48, https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna073