Chapter 15 May, 1896. I drove down the lane towards our farmhouse with trepidation. As I approached, the barn doors hung open, an ominous sign. I almost hoped it was a thief, as I would rather face a thief than my husband. It was no thief. Sam must have heard our approach, as he stormed out of the barn and rounded the side of the house as I drove on by. His eyes ablaze with rage, he attempted to grab the horse’s harness. I considered turning around and heading back the way I’d come, but knew the strategy would prove futile and possibly dangerous. I envisioned him jumping upon Absalom…