“Thanks.” He took the cup from her, careful to reach for the other side. As he’d done for the past week, he deliberately avoided touching her. Which was fine with her, except she wondered why.
Not that it mattered. Her goal was the same, so they were on the same page with that.
He drained the cup and handed it back.
“Another?”
He nodded. “Please.”
She uncapped the gallon of water and poured him another glass, unsure why she was always so aware of his presence. Thankfully, her hands weren’t shaking, although her heart wobbled some.
She handed it over again, and again he took it the same gingerly way. Then drained it.
She lifted the bag. “I have lunch. I thought we’d eat outside today, if that’s okay with you. It’s nice out.”
He nodded, looking at his cup. “That’s fine.”
“I thought we’d go to the creek.” She kept her face bland. She felt like she was deceiving him, but really, she wasn’t. She just had a few more things that she wanted to happen, things she wasn’t telling him about.
“That’s fine. Sounds nice.”
She turned to walk across the field on a diagonal to hit the creek at the spot she wanted, but his voice stopped her.
“I’ll get that.”
She stopped and turned, not sure what he meant. He dropped his gloves on the ground next to the post hole digger. Obviously, he thought he was coming back.
Not if she could help it.
He had his hand out, reaching for the jug of water and the bag she carried.
It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him no, she was fine, she wasn’t helpless, and she could carry everything. Plus, his hands were hurt, while hers was healing just fine.
But she closed her mouth. There was something about the way he looked, or maybe it was the set of his shoulders, but she thought it was a pride thing.
She’d never really been around a lot of men who thought it was their duty to take care of women, but she’d read books to that effect. She assumed they were fairy tales. But Chandler looked like he’d be offended if she didn’t hand over what he was asking for.
She gave a mental shrug. It wasn’t going to hurt him to carry them, and he was doing it to be nice, not because he thought she couldn’t.
She handed the bag over. “Thanks.”
“Lead the way.”
Maybe that was their compromise. He carried the bag, and she walked in front.
Probably she was just being fanciful, but she liked the idea that there was some give-and-take in their relationship. She didn’t really want to be in charge all the time, although she needed to remember that this was her farm and he didn’t care about it.
Still, the way he’d been working the last week, he’d certainly gotten a lot done.
The sky was blue, and spring flowers were bursting out all over the place, purple and yellow, and the smell of honeysuckle filled the air. She breathed deep and looked at the sky. It was perfect for what she wanted, with puffy white clouds floating lazily above them. A slight breeze blew, and off in the distance, one of her cows lowed.
She couldn’t wait until she could get them in the pasture. They needed it. She had to be patient. So much of farming was patience.
She led them to the spot along the creek where it flattened out, rippled over rocks, and went over a little ledge where the trickle of the creek made a lovely music that was relaxing in any language or country.
Chapter 11
There was a nice grassy spot beside the creek tucked in like the crook of an elbow. Ivory took the blanket that she’d packed in her bag and spread it out.
“This is really pretty. I didn’t even know it was here.” Chandler sounded surprised as he stood and looked around.
“Yes. It’s kind of hidden with that copse of trees there and the way you kind of go around the end of the hill. It’s where I wash the clothes, and before I had a bathroom, it’s where I bathed.”
She dropped to her knees. He had been moving closer, but he stopped. “Before you had a bathroom?”
He said it like it was the craziest thing in the world for someone to not have a bathroom.
“It took everything I had to buy the farm. I didn’t have money for updates.”
He dropped to his knees, then twisted onto his rear, kicking a boot off. “I don’t want to get your blanket dirty.” He lined his boot up off the blanket. “I’m still trying to reconcile in my mind that there is someone in our day and age who doesn’t have a washing machine and who bathed in the creek.” He looked over his shoulder at her. “I don’t want to offend you, but that’s about the weirdest thing I’ve ever heard. I’ve never met anyone who lives like that.”
She lifted her shoulder. Her goal had never been to be like everybody else. In fact, she’d spent a lot of time trying not to be like everyone else.
“I can’t say you’re wrong. It’s weird.”
He kicked his second boot off and twisted around, stretching his legs across the end of the blanket and acting as though he was going to lean back on his hands but remembered at the last minute they hurt.
“Let me see them, please?”
It wasn’t a mystery as to what she was talking about, and he held his hands up to show her, but he didn’t hold them out so she could touch them.
“I thought I saw bloodied bandages. We need to get them off. You should soak your hands in the creek for a little bit.”
“You think that’s safe?” His eyes narrowed as he looked at the clear, flowing water.
“Safe as anything else, I would say. It comes from a spring in the mountain, not too far from here. Water flowing over the ground purifies itself.” He still didn’t look convinced, and she couldn’t offer him any guarantees, but she said, “I’ve drunk it plenty of times, if that eases your mind.”
“Let me guess, you didn’t have running water when you first moved in, either.”
She grinned. He didn’t seem like he was judging her or looking down on her. His mouth quirked a little. “You’re right.”
He shook his head. “I can’t believe it.”
“Maybe it would help if you didn’t think about it.” She had to admit she was teasing him a little bit. And she wasn’t sure why. Maybe because it was just fun to share a smile. That was probably not all of it.
He looked out of the corner of his eye as he was taking off the bandage of his left hand. “I guess I can concentrate on the pain in my hands. That ought to take my mind off it.”
“Okay. Go ahead. Think about how awful I am. And be scared.”
He laughed outright at that. “I probably should be scared. If you’re desperate enough to live like that, there’s no telling what you’d do.”
She hadn’t thought about it as desperation, but she supposed, in hindsight, he was right. She was desperate. Desperate to be different. Desperate to have her own place, where she wasn’t dependent on anyone, and desperate to get away from the people who looked down on her and made fun of her and tried to put her in the box that fit what they thought fit her, instead of letting her out to make her own life and reputation.
“You’re kind of scaring me with that look. Anything bad?” he said calmly, like he asked people what they were thinking all time.
Ivory tried to think back. Had anyone ever asked her what she was thinking? She couldn’t remember a time, but she hadn’t had too many regular relationships. Even the one between her and her mom was definitely different. She supposed they got along okay, but Ivory deliberately didn’t see her much.
“I was thinking that part of the reason that I did all of those crazy things was because I didn’t want to be what everyone thought I was. I wanted to be something different. I guess I took different to the extreme.”
“That’s a good way to put it. Different to the extreme.” The bandage on his hand unwrapped completely and fell off, exposing red, white, and pink flesh. Angry looking. And sore.
“Please don’t try to tell m
e that doesn’t hurt.” She cringed at the sight.
“Even I can’t lie like that,” he said with a grin.
She didn’t laugh at first, but then she remembered he was an actor. That must be what he meant. She chuckled.
“Here.” She held her hand out, remembering too late about her earlier idea that he was avoiding touching her and that they were on the same page.
She just messed that up.
He lifted his other hand over without a word, and she took it, beginning to unwrap it.
“I wish I would have thought to bring a pan or basin or something that you can soak these in, although I really think that cool creek water will feel good on them.”
“I’m not real concerned about that. As long as I can get whatever food you brought to my mouth, I’ll be fine.”
She laughed a little. “Okay. It sounds like we’re eating first and soaking your hands second.”
“That sounds like a plan to me.”
She got the bread and the mayonnaise out and then pulled out the container of leftover roast beef from the night before, making him a sandwich.
She hesitated before handing it to him, wondering if she could ask him to say a blessing. She’d been praying over their food silently to herself, and he’d been letting her, respecting her decision with silence.
Thinking that it was probably just better for her to do it, she said, “I’m gonna pray.”
She hadn’t really meant to meet his eyes when she said it, but they skittered around and caught him watching her, and his eyes hooked hers.
They were slightly widened, and she had the feeling she’d surprised him, and he was contemplating the idea that again, she might not be what he thought she was.
She liked that, in a way. In another way, it made her nervous. She wasn’t used to people seeing what she really was. And she used the baggy clothes, and the distance, and the self-sufficiency to keep herself hidden. Basically, they were walls. She hadn’t even thought about it like that, but she knew right away it was true.
“I guess that means it’ll be my turn at supper.”
She forgot to breathe. Her words came out almost a whisper. “I guess.”
Three slow heartbeats later, she tore her eyes away, bowing her head and saying a simple prayer, remembering to pray for his hands.
After she said amen, he looked up at her. “You forgot to pray for your burns.”
“My injuries aren’t nearly as bad as yours. They’re healing up just fine.”
“I see that.” He nodded at her hand. He could see it while she’d been working on his probably. “It still looks sore. How’s your leg?”
“It’s fine. Better than my hand.”
“I let you take the bandages off my hands. And I’ll soak them after we eat. You can show me your leg.”
“This is one of our compromises?”
His mouth tilted up, and her stomach flipped. “I think so.”
So yeah, maybe he’d been noticing their give-and-take too. Maybe it had been a deliberate thing on his part, because she got the impression that he was used to doing things his way.
Of course, she was used to the same.
“Okay then. While you’re soaking your hands in the creek, I’ll show you my leg.” Self-consciously, she tugged down her long-sleeved T-shirt.
It was a pleasant day, but there was just a little bit of a breeze, enough that she’d be chilly when the sun went behind a cloud.
Her long skirt wouldn’t be a problem to lift up, but it did make her uncomfortable. She’d spent so much of her life trying to hide herself and not be like her mom.
Chandler looked at her, like he was trying to figure her out. But he could just go ahead and do that on his own, because she wasn’t going to help him with it. It was hard enough to think about showing him her leg, even though he’d already seen it, and she knew it wasn’t that big of a deal. Not to everyone else in the world.
It was a big deal to her. Because it was something that she hadn’t done.
Deliberately.
She wasn’t going to think about it right then though. She’d already agreed to show him. Later.
Using just one piece of bread, she made him another sandwich.
As she handed it over, she said, “I know you can probably eat about ten of these, but I thought it would be easier for you to eat with your hands the way they are if they weren’t so big to grab a hold of. I’ll make as many as you need.”
“Make yourself one. I’m going to eat it all, and you’ll not get any.”
“Of course not. I’m going to eat. But you’ve been digging holes all morning, and I know you’re starved.”
“I haven’t known you very long. At least, not long enough to know you know you.” His lip quirked up, and she had to grin too. “But I’m guessing you didn’t sit around and twiddle your thumbs all morning. Maybe you aren’t doing what you might’ve been doing if you hadn’t hurt yourself, am I wrong?”
She shook her head.
She made him another half sandwich before she made her own, and he was ready for it when she handed it over.
They ate a while in silence. The day was pleasant and beautiful, and the silence was sweet and enjoyable. A companionable silence. She savored it.
She didn’t usually get to eat with people, and that was one time during the day that maybe she might have enjoyed some companionship.
He’d eaten four half sandwiches before he spoke. “So why are you doing all this?” It was almost like he could read her mind. “What’s the point?” He waved the hand that held the fifth sandwich, indicating her farm and the work that she was doing.
She didn’t know what to say. Nothing deep or private. “Doesn’t everybody have to have a job? This is mine.” It wasn’t the answer he was looking for, but she hoped he would be satisfied with it. She didn’t want to dig any deeper.
“I think you know that’s not what I meant.”
She lifted her brows, being deliberately obtuse. She’d probably tell him, if he asked directly. But she wasn’t going to volunteer the information.
She didn’t want to offend him by refusing though.
Even in high school, he wasn’t shy, and he asked again, “Why did you choose this job? Why did you choose this?”
She took a breath in through her nose. He’d phrased it a little differently than what she was expecting, and she thought she could answer this one semi-safely.
“I grew up here in rural Missouri. Everyone farms. It was what I always wanted to do.”
“When you say always, you mean it. You must’ve saved up for a long time in order to be able to afford this.”
“That’s part of the reason why it’s so run-down. I had to buy what I could afford. But yeah, I saved for a long time.”
His eyes narrowed, considering. “You were working before you were legally allowed.”
“Legal work though.” She said it almost offensively or defiantly. She didn’t want him thinking that she had followed her mother into that profession.
“I hadn’t doubted it.”
She wasn’t sure exactly if he meant that, but she appreciated the sentiment. She wanted to believe him.
“Are you ready to soak your hands?” she asked as she put the lid back on the mayonnaise and put it in the bag.
“Yeah. I didn’t realize how much they were hurting until I stopped.”
“It might be because of the bandage being taken off too. It probably will sting when you put them in the water.”
“I was expecting that. Pretty much everything stings.” He grunted, almost a laugh.
They moved to the creek, and he knelt beside it, leaning forward, gingerly putting his hands in the water, jerking them back one time before gritting his jaw and plunging them in.
It took about five seconds before he seemed to relax a little and more than that before the tension drained out of his shoulders.
Her hands had fisted in sympathetic compassion. “They must have gotten used to it. It looks li
ke it’s not hurting so bad anymore.”
“You’re right. The pain has dulled enough that I remembered you’re supposed to be showing me your leg.” He looked at her with a raised brow.
Her stomach did that crazy flip-flop thing again, although she still didn’t want to lift her skirt enough to show him her leg.
But she also didn’t want him to know how much she was struggling, so she gave her head a little toss and grabbed a hold of her skirt, bunching it so only the front of her leg showed.
His eyes studied the angry red dried blisters for a moment before they lifted to hers. “Better keep an eye on that. Looks a little red.”
“I think that’s natural. It’s a burn after all, and it’s dried up pretty nicely.” She hoped it was. Her leg actually hurt less than her hand, so she figured it must be okay.
They didn’t say anything for almost ten minutes while he kept his hands in the water. Finally he lifted them up.
“Do you think that was long enough?” He twisted them this way and that. They really did look a little better.
“Probably.” She really had no idea. They might not even be doing something that was helpful. But at least they were doing something.
“It’s crazy, but that actually made them feel better.”
“It makes sense that it would. But I think we should let them dry out before we bandage them up again.”
She stood. This was where she was hoping for a little bit of trickery. Hoping.
“Let’s lie down on the blanket for a little bit.” She moved away from the creek. “I like to look at the clouds. I always take a little time to do that when they look like they do today. What’s the point of all this work, if you’re not enjoying what God’s given you?”
His brows twitched just a little, like he wasn’t sure he believed her about watching the clouds. It was true. She did. But she did have an ulterior motive.
He nodded, and he followed her the few feet from the creek back to the blanket. She lay down on her back, well over on “her” side of the blanket, and he did the same.
She hadn’t been around a lot of men for any length of time, but the ones that she’d seen would always fall asleep after a good meal if they lay down. She kinda figured Chandler might be the same with more than a few minutes’ break. So yeah, she was being a little tricky, but it was for his own good. Because she was pretty sure he was going to insist that she bandage his hands back up and that he’d go right back to work.
Sold! In the Show Me State Page 9