CHAPTER FORTY
Opening the door, Sarah locks eyes with Peter as he stands from the side of the bed.
Peter walks to her, stopping short, and takes in a deep breath as he taps his fingertips on his hips. He bites both his lips, letting them roll out from between his teeth, and licks them before pulling them back in. With every second of heavy silence, his tapping increases in speed.
Sarah watches his fingertips. He’s nervous. The last time she saw him tapping like that was his first time seeing one of the calves born with difficulty breathing. He was waiting to see if he would take his first breath. He did, but it took a few minutes of agitation to make the stubborn calf fight. Peter and Father put snow in his ears several times before he was irritated enough. Peter was twelve. She keeps w
