“I’ve filled my bucket almost three times this morning.”
Juan did not say anything, but from the way he smiled, Veve knew he did not think she had picked very many cherries.
“Here,” he said, a moment later.
Before Veve could prevent it, he picked up his own filled bucket and dumped cherries into hers until it was ready to overflow.
“Oh, you shouldn’t have done that!” she exclaimed. “Mr Wingate won’t like it.”
“Who cares for that old goat?” scoffed Juan. “He has no friends. Hooper, his own relative, dislikes him—and for good reason too. Si!”
“Are Hooper and Wingate relatives?” Veve asked in astonishment.
Before Juan could answer, he heard his name angrily called. Mr. Wingate stood at the entrance to the orchard, gazing toward the spring.
“You, Juan!” he shouted. “Stop loafing, and get back to work!”