A Baker (Beauty and the Beast)

A Fresh Start

The smell of grass after a gentle rain. A rainbow breaking from the clouds above. The clouds parting and the sun emerging.

The sight of a field filled with long, stalks of wheat. A farmer ploughing his fields. The rattle of the harnesses and the barn behind.

Belle loved the outdoors. She loved the feel of the wind in her hair. She loved the sounds of the birds and creatures in their natural world. She loved running through wild flowers barefoot. She loved to watch the world come to life around her.

Belle loved sitting outdoors. She loved sitting in the field on the hill. She loved watching her father work from the stone by the road. She loved sitting in the shade by the creek.

She loved being outside even more when she had a book in her hands. She would have loved reading in the house but her mother didn't like that so much. Her mother thought she should help like her sisters never did. She hated having to help her mother in the house when she had a book on her mind.

Belle's brothers were older and had moved out at the first opportunity. That meant that their father didn't have as much help in the fields. Her mother was a decent cook, and made up the rest of the rent by baking for the town. It wasn't much to live on but they got by.

Belle and her sisters had to help in whatever ways they could. Belle often got lumped with sitting by the fire and helping her mother knead her creations. Her older sisters loved going into town in the hope that they might find a husband who didn't mind that they didn't have a dowry.

Belle didn't like to think about that yet. She was only sixteen. She didn't really mind helping her parents. She'd run out of things to read years ago and knew the few books they had off by heart.

What she did mind was that her parents always seemed to be struggling. They would scrimp and save, sometimes barely paying the rent for the farm. And still, her sisters would need a new dress. Her parents didn't dare argue but they all knew they couldn't afford any of it.

They didn't have anything to bake at the moment. Her mother hadn't had any orders and her sisters were in town delivering the goods they'd made that morning.

Belle was watching her father harvest the field. This year hadn't been a good crop and she didn't know how they were to manage. Whenever she asked her mother, she was always pushed off. There was no need for her to worry. They'd manage as they always did.

Belle fingered the page as she considered turning. She knew what happened on the next page, she could even recite most. What she didn't know is if she wanted to continue reading. She let the book fall to her side and tried to focus on something other than her father.

He was getting on in age and needed help. She had offered many times but he had refused. Perhaps if she asked again, he might agree. Her brothers had often spoken about the land in the evenings. It didn't seem too difficult. Belle could help her father, which in turn would help her mother. She knew that her mother hated having to work for those in the town. If Belle could help her father with the crops, maybe the yield would increase.

"Belle!" her father called over the fence. Belle pushed herself off the stone, she didn't know how long she had been sitting there for. "You're reading that book again."

"Yes Papa," Belle murmured, coming to lean on the gate. Her father kissed her forehead, running his hand through her hair.

Her father sighed, almost inaudibly thinking that Belle wouldn't be able to hear him. Belle relaxed into his embrace, knowing that her father was worried more than anything.

"Why don't you walk into town?" Belle pulled back from her father, bringing her book to her chest. "Don't look at me so. You should see that friend of yours, what's her name?"