Chapter 15
Mary Shadrin walked into their lives in July.
Etan caught motion out of the corner of his eye, looking up from a batch of strawberry preserves in an old-fashioned steam canner on one of the cooktops. He and a group of ten surprisingly attentive teenagers were watching the water boiling in the dark blue metal pot and listening to the finished jars cooling on the counter, waiting for the telltale pop of the cooling lids sealing themselves.
The scent of the remains of fragrant berries on the table behind him floated through the humid air, matching the perfectly ripe sweet flavor on his tongue.
He’d gotten used to the constant level of noise and humidity in the cannery faster than he’d expected. Clattering knives on other tables, churning or whirring machines, fragrant steam thi
