You wanted to be a farmer, but staying in one piece is more important. You’ve got a handsome face; no sense in getting it banged up.
As soon as you’re healed up, you head over to the mill. “I hear you need a clerk?” you ask.
The miller frowns. “What sort of education do you have?”
“Ah … ah, I went to the Common School. For a while. A little while …” You trail off, panic rising through your chest.
The miller pats your shoulder. “Tell you what — I’ll take you on as a labourer.”
It’s hard work. That’s all right — you love working the machinery and showing off how much flour you can carry. You even make a friend: a man named Hugh.
But then, you get a message from home. Abraham’s been hurt in a farming accident. They need your help at home.
“Ach je …” Abraham’s the one who landed you in the doctor’s office in the first place. Besides, you like working at the mill.
On the other hand, he is your brother — and this is your chance to run a farm on your own.