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Page 195

| Chapter Fifteen |

| The ripe pumpkins had been plucked from the garden and put on the roof of the cabin to be mellowed by frost. Disconsolately, Sasha was now gathering eggs in the chicken house, placing them carefully in a small basket. Ashton had left early for the pasture, ignoring her as though she meant nothing at all to him any longer. Day by day her loneliness was compounded, and she was beginning to regret how she had chosen to treat Ashton. She could hardly bear to think of another full day and night ahead of her without his speaking to her, without his taking her into his arms and holding her. |

| Oh, but dare she cast her doubts aside and take from Ashton whatever love he wanted to share with her and only pray and hope that in the end he wouldn't be another Woodrow Rutherford? |

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