Page 7 of This Time Around
There was a section of fencing I noticed the other day that needed to be repaired out on the far edge of our two-hundred acres, but it wouldn’t take me more than a couple hours to get out there and fix it.I wanted to do it alone, though.
I might have agreed to let him come, but that didn’t mean I wanted him here.
“I have some things to do this afternoon.Why don’t you unpack and get settled and you can come find me in the horse barn when you’re done.”
“The horse barn?”
“Yeah.Big red building.Can’t really miss it.”
His lips lifted, and I’d say it was a grin, but it didn’t reach his eyes or alter his expression in any way.Great.Was he terrified of horses?
“Okay.I’ll meet you at the horse barn later.”His lips lifted again, and this time it was definitely a grin.
I didn’t ask him what was so funny about a barn.
I skedaddled past him and hurried back to the main house—not realizing until I reached the back door of my patio that my stomach started feeling funny when he smiled.
I didn’t like it.
Not one little bit.
The strange sensationin my belly evaporated while I re-wrapped wire and hammered in a couple new posts.With the fencing fixed, I did a quick ride on Gray before heading back to the barn.I’d only been gone two hours, the fence not taking as much time as I’d anticipated, and wasn’t nearly as damaged as I saw the other day.
This wasn’t exactly a surprise.Farmers were helpful people and our land edged up a creek, but across the creek was the Whitman place.They grew corn, not cows, but over the last year they’d taken to surprising me with help, whether or not I asked for it.
Seeing the damaged fence line had already been repaired, replaced that warm feeling in my stomach with irritation as I followed the fence, found a different area that hadn’t been fixed and set in handling that one.
It’d be polite to call Gloria Whitman and thank her and her husband, Peter, for helping, but I’d told them time and again I had it handled.
To which she usually replied, “Sweet thing, you accept the help from folk and the Lord when it’s needed so you’ve got the energy and time to give when it’s needed of you.This is just us, you know that.”
The problem was I did, because Gloria and Peter Whitman were close enough to my family tobefamily, considering her family had worked their land even longer than my family had worked ours.I understood both her words and her implication.Fifteen years ago their original house burned down in a fire from a lightning strike, and it was my family who’d helped them rebuild and harvest their crops that summer and fall.We’d had this conversation so often that now, whenever I found something they mended, I didn’t bother calling.
I didn’t need her Sunday School lessons on graciousness.God had taught me enough on His own by ripping away everything valuable I had.
It wasn’t only their lessons or their help that made my blood boil.It was mostly because it was usually given to me with a look a pity in their eyes as well as the whispered, “That poor little thang,” behind my back.As if no one around actually believed I could manage this place.
Perhaps Brooke was right and I was stubborn, but I was a single woman, a widow, working a two-hundred acre cattle ranch.
I could do it, I knew I could.I just needed more time to prove it.
“Come on, Gray,” I whispered, tugging on his lead and guiding him back to the barn.“Let’s get you some food and a good rub down.”
He snorted, and I ran my hand down his side.I guided him into the barn only to come to an abrupt stop when I saw Cooper.
He was at Stormy’s door, running his hand down the side of her neck, and talking so softly to the girl I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but whatever it was, the girl liked it.She nuzzled Cooper’s hand just like she’d always done to Joseph.
My irritation with the Whitmans dwindled.
I had a new target for my anger.
Freaking Max.
