CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The road took us deeper into the woods and we soon found the Gebur farm. It was a nice little homestead with two large open pastures dotted with round-topped trees. The light green grass was in stark contrast to the dark shadows of the forest that sulked at the edges of the pastures. The buildings consisted of several sheds, a large red barn, a small chicken coop, and a quaint little two-floor whitewashed farmhouse with decorative red shutters. Everything had a place, and everything was in its place as we drove up.
A young boy of ten popped his head out of the chicken coop and gazed at us with wide, curious eyes. “Hello there!” he shouted.
“Hello there,” Ben called back as we parked a few yards from the yard.
I glimpsed a large garden behind the house, protected b
