Chapter 3: A Simple Farmer, A Quiet Fellow, A Good-Natured Soul

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Gal wiggles her tail happily, a rabbit hanging from her jowls, as she and Ellis head home for the cabin from the southside of their property.

“Good job today, Gal.” Ellis gives the dog a pat. After ruffling her drooping ears and taking the rabbit from her mouth, he props his rifle against the porch and heads to the barn for his butcher knife.

Ellis spends his evening in near silence, eating the roasted rabbit and feeding all leftovers to the dog. The quiet is peaceful but unnerving all at once. It getting dark out leaves him no choice but to stay inside and ponder his thoughts.

While living in solitude does have its perks, and he’d never trade being on the farm for anything, it is times like these that he sometimes wishes he had someone to share his life with. 

This sixty-acre farm had once belonged to Darrell and Louise Combs, both dead now. Ellis figures they are the closest thing an orphan could ever get to parents. His adopted sisters, Rebecca and Charlotte, had both married young and skipped town to travel west. Darrell and Louise didn’t have any legitimate children, and with his sisters gone the property was left for Ellis to tend to.

He has been manning the farm for five years now, all alone. Truthfully, he should be well on his way to a growing family, but being a mild hermit on a mountainside farm makes that difficult. It shouldn’t though. Ellis is oblivious, or impassive, to the fact that the ladies in town think he is a catch.

He always attracts attention when he makes a trip down for cattle feed or supplies. The dark eyes and sun-kissed skin only compliment the aura of shyness that surrounds him. Women find him intriguing and mysterious, which he has never understood. There isn’t much mystery to him at all; he’s a simple farmer, a quiet fellow, a good-natured soul. 

Despite the attention, Ellis hasn’t shown much interest to anyone in particular. He couldn’t ever remember being keen on the typical homemaker-wife. If he is going to marry someday, he wants a woman who can be his equal in all things, not just someone to keep hidden away in the house.

A knock on the cabin door pulls Ellis from his thoughts. Gal jumps to attention from her spot next to the fireplace.

“Were you expecting someone?” he asks her, knowing full well that she cannot reply.

He opens the door to see Daniel Williams, the local blacksmith, standing on the porch. His horse is waiting idly in the yard behind him, and Daniel is holding a long and sharp metal tool, freshly crafted.

“Mr. Combs, I hate to intrude so late in the evening. I hope you don’t mind me stopping by. I brought your new hay knife.”

“Thanks, Daniel. Come on in,” Ellis steps to the left to let the blacksmith inside. Gal immediately bumps herself against the man’s legs and he chuckles, bending slightly to scratch her head. 

Ellis hates small talk, but with Daniel in his home he feels pressed to be friendly. “Here you go. How has business been?” he asks, passing the blacksmith a handful of silver coins.

“Appreciate it,” Daniel pockets the coins before continuing, “Business is alright. I’ve gotten busier with summer around the corner, but I heard there’s a new smith in town.”

“Oh yeah?” Ellis hasn’t heard, not that he much cares. Daniel does reliable work, and the likelihood of his clients being stolen is measly.

“Mhm, and I also heard that he and his wife moved in near ya.” Daniel eyes the nearest window, gesturing towards the land outside.

Come to think of it, Ellis might have heard something about that a few days ago when he went to the cattle sale in town. The Combs property is fairly expansive, so no neighbors are real close by, and he knows they aren’t on the parcel right next to his; he always takes a ride to check around the property each day. Still, Ellis feels slightly wary that he doesn’t know the new folks sharing the mountain with him.

“Haven’t met them yet,” he says to Daniel, “but I wouldn’t worry. You might be a fool, but you make good tools.”

The barely-there smile on Ellis’ mouth lets Daniel know he’s joking, and he laughs. It’s always hard to tell what Combs is thinking. The man is so private that Daniel already feels as if he’s overstayed his welcome.

“I better get going. It's getting late and my old lady is at home making supper. Give me a holler if you need anything else.”

“I’ll do it,” Ellis nods, following Daniel to the door. He swiftly closes it once the man makes it outside.

Gal’s tail droops at the sudden departure of their company. She sulks back over to her spot on the burlap rug next to the fireplace, and plops herself down with a grunt. “Stop whining,” Ellis says to her, even though he does feel a tinge of guilt. 

He doesn’t really know when or why it happened, but somehow over the years he has just become even more closed-off - withdrawn, and on the verge of becoming a recluse. In truth, he probably would have already taken that step if it wasn’t for his need to attend cattle sales, visit the feed store occasionally, and buy farm necessities from good people like Daniel.

He had always been introverted as a child, and he doesn’t know if being an orphan contributed to that or not. His mother had succumbed to a fever right after his birth, and his father had died five years later in a mining accident. 

After being passed from family to family in their local church, Ellis finally landed in the Combs household. Darrel and Louise were of sturdy farming stock, an older couple with a growing adopted family. They took him in eagerly.

He had been the baby, always being bossed around by Charlotte and Rebecca, actual sisters who had become orphaned when both of their parents contracted the flu. Even though they were overbearing and obnoxious, Ellis loved them like they were his own blood.

Darrel had been a quintessential southern father; he taught Ellis the ways of the farm, how to hunt, and how to fix things. He was gruff and less than emotional, but he never treated him like an orphan. Instead, he called him son, which always made Ellis sort of swell with pride.

While he couldn’t remember his own mother, Ellis remembered Louise. She was a strong, intelligent lady that could not only fry a chicken like an expert, but also help build a barn from the ground up. She had instilled those same skills in his sisters, and he had respected her so much. That is probably why he’s never been interested in simply having a housewife.

He never knew why Darrel and Louise hadn’t had kids of their own or why they’d bothered to take in three orphans to raise as theirs, all he knew was that he’d been thankful for them.

Five years ago, Darrel passed in his sleep, and Louise followed soon after. Both were older and they had lived good lives, hard lives but still good. Ever since they died and his sisters had gone west with their new husbands, Ellis has been alone.

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