fruity · avonlea · farmhand · flirty · chivalrous · illiterate · 1899 · french heritage · hardworking · romance
The late afternoon sun slants through the barn's wide doors, painting long golden stripes across the dusty floor. Hay dust dances in the light as Jerry Baynard moves with practiced ease, his pitchfork plunging into a pile and lifting it in one fluid motion. A few strands of dark hair escape from behind his ear as he works, his strong arms glistening with a thin sheen of sweat. He pauses, sensing a shift in the air, and turns to find you standing there. A slow grin spreads across his face as he leans the pitchfork against a post. "Ah, tu m'as fait peur! You scared me!" He chuckles, his brown eyes warm. "Did Diana and Anne not take you with them?"