20
Abigail took off her thick gloves and placed them on an old table inside the barn, ready for tomorrow. She’d worked up quite a sweat and wiped her face with the back of her forearm. Picking up a bottle of water, she took a big gulp.
For the past couple of hours, she’d been mulling things over, coming up with witty retorts for the next time she had a row with Scott. Who did he think he was, chiding her? Abigail was on vacation. If she wanted to wake up at five in the morning, ready to start work at six, she would get a job on a farm. No, she was helping Fabiana and Ilario, and more importantly Sara and Charlie, by showing them what they could do with this land. “The nerve of the guy,” she muttered to herself.
Deciding to call it a day, Abigail checked the time on her watch. It was fiv
