Ambrose: first person point of view
Pa arrived a few minutes later. I had unsaddled the stallion and had taken him out to the corral to drink from the water tank when Pa drove up in the buggy. He pulled to a stop, set the brake, and hopped down.
“How’d everything go while I was gone? You keep up with the accounts?” he asked.
Just like that. No hello. But that was Pa.
“I did. The book is in on the stand. I knew you’d want to see it first thing.”
He strode for the back door of the stable, then stopped and turned toward me. “Anything happen while I was gone.”
“Regular stuff. Chores, mostly. Sunday, I put some flowers on Ma’s grave.” I figured I wouldn’t say anything about Susan being there. Maybe no one had seen us. “I bought a piece of cake from Mrs. Collins.”
He came toward me, hands clenched at his sides. “That Hogan girl sell it to you? Can’t leave her ‘cake’ alone, can you.”
“What?” Then I remembered that Susan was doing the baking for the boardinghouse now. “No, I bought it from Mrs. Collins, like I said. Ask her if you don’t believe me.”
He stood for a moment, glaring at me. “I will,” he said, turned on his heel and headed for the back door again.
Shaking my head, I blew out a breath. Pa had as much as called me a liar. I couldn’t think of a thing I had done to cause him not to trust me.
I took care of the horses and buggy, puzzling over Pa’s attitude the whole time. We’d had the big faceoff just before he’d left town, but I’d expected him to calm down while he was gone. That hadn’t happened. My work outside done, I ambled toward the back door, wondering what I would get inside. More accusations?
I heard voices coming from the side door near the front of the building. Pa was talking to Mr. Clark.
“You keep an eye on things like I asked you to?” Pa said.
I figured I was first on the list of “things” Pa was asking about. I guess Mr. Clark thought so to because he said, “Ambrose didn’t have any special company while you were gone. Leastways, no here.”
I stepped forward and cleared my throat. “You have any questions about the books, Pa?”
He squinted at me. “Not yet.”
With that, I mucked out some stalls while Pa studied the accounts, occasionally shouting a question at me.
At last, it was closing time. I saddled Red for Pa and Butter for me. We rode home side by side, but our hearts couldn’t have been farther apart.
Hiram: third person point of view test
Hiram had the feeling he was being lied to. Ambrose’s accounts of what had happened the past four days were clipped, shy of details. There were no stories, funny or otherwise, about what had gone on. That wasn’t like his son, who liked to give accounts of successes and laugh at odd occurrences. He cut a sideways glance at his son. Who was this boy beside him? He hardly recognized the closed, angry youngster. It had to be that Hogan tart. Ava had been right. Ambrose was at the age to get bodily urges, and those urges were aimed toward Hogan.
There had been a time when Hiram would have been filling Ambrose’s ear with stories about his trip, his meeting with important men and discussions of the impending vote to ratify the constitution, but not now.
Hiram: first person point of view test
I had the feeling Ambrose was lying to me. His accounts of what had happened the past four days were clipped, shy of details. There were no stories, funny or otherwise, about what had gone on. That wasn’t like my son, who liked to give accounts of successes and laugh at odd occurrences. I cut a sideways glance at him. Who was this boy beside me? I hardly recognized the closed, angry youngster. It had to be that Hogan tart. Ava had been right. Ambrose was at the age to get bodily urges, and those urges were aimed toward Hogan.
There had been a time when I would have been filling Ambrose’s ear with stories about my trip, my meeting with important men and our discussions of the impending vote to ratify the constitution, but not now.
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