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T he following week passed with frustratingly few stolen moments with Silas, and Ophelia found herself craving the times she could slide into the chair next to him at meals or stand beside him at the stove sipping a tea before heading out for the day.

It wasn’t that they weren’t sharing space, most days they were together from sunup to sundown, but they were in constant motion.

Checking the progress of each field, weeding the cereal and root crops with the horses, spreading manure on the newly cleared field, an endless wheel of work under the warming dome of the summer sky.

Confident with the horses, Ophelia kept an eye on Samson, but pushed them as hard as she dared to keep the weeds under control.

Bess was busy each day with her dairying work at Mr. Bone’s, and Hannah arrived home from the forage corps each day red-faced and weary.

Word had also arrived from the War Ag that they would be sending a committee member to inspect their progress.

They retired from the dinner table soberly one night, taking their tea to the sitting room and sinking onto the sofas.

Much later, work assignments organised, tasks allotted, tea drunk, only Silas and Ophelia remained.

The flames had died to almost nothing and the moon hung in the inky sky out the window.

They sat in companionable silence, thighs and shoulders snugged tight together.

Silas was due to leave for his mother’s the next day, and Ophelia didn’t want to lose a minute with him.

“I could do this with you every night, Fee.”

“What, ruminate on the arrival of an unfriendly War Ag inspector?” Ophelia said, half sigh, half laugh.

“Nah.” He ran a hand down her thigh, stopping at her knee. “Sit with you in front of a fire, tea in our mugs, a long day done.”

She hummed in response.

“It’s nice to end the day together, no?”

“It is. Though we’re really only able to sit here because there’s five of us doing the housework and dishes and chores. Were it only you and me, I’d likely be still cleaning up after dinner, and you’d be in here enjoying the fire on your own.”

“It needn’t be like for us,” Silas protested. “I’d take on all the tasks with you. Fair is fair.”

“Do you think it could be, outside of this time and place? There’d be so many reasons for you to go back to the way things were before—you in the field and me in the house.

Everyone will expect it, there’s already so much talk of returning to life as it was.

I fear people have little interest in equality when it affects them personally. ”

“Men, you mean.”

She nodded, thinking that there were also women who worked to maintain the status quo. That she might have continued to be one, but for meeting Hannah, joining the WLA.

“To hell with what everyone else expects,” Silas swore quietly, his body going tense against hers. “I’ll burn it all to the ground if it means being with you, building something that matters together.”

It was giddy and electric, the possibility of being together on their own terms. Of taking a step into the future on her terms. She nudged his shoulder with hers. “Let’s burn it to the ground, together.”

He stared at her for a moment and then she took his mouth with hers, opening to bite at his soft lips.

Ophelia felt him go pliant, and she wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him onto her.

The upper half of his body over hers was a heady weight, and she let herself enjoy the feeling of being held down while their mouths roved hungrily over each other.

Silas pulled back and stroked a hand down the side of her face, lingering on the angle of her jaw, running a rough thumb along the crease of her mouth. Ophelia opened her eyes.

“Walk me to my room,” he rumbled.

Yes. She scooted up from under him and they stumbled, clumsy with desire, through the kitchen and into the farmyard.

The moon had risen higher, its watery light leaking into the corners of the buildings, gilding everything silver.

They hurried across the cobblestones, shadows distorted like fairies or thieves in the night.

The dark arch of the barn door enveloped them, and then Ophelia was pulling Silas across the small room toward his bed.

He caught her about the waist and spun her, laughing, toward him.