Read Online Love's First Bloom by Delia Parr - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Delia Parr
Ads: Link
still. It just was not fair that she would have to give up the one place she hoped to call her own. Not fair at all. Resentment that God would allow her private sanctuary to be taken away from her tugged yet again at her troubled spirit.
She quickly reassessed her situation and focused her gaze on the man who was struggling to get back to the cabin. He was not the elderly man she had first assumed him to be. In point of fact, he was probably only a few years older than she was. The sun highlighted his dark auburn hair, which he wore pulled back into a queue, and his eyes were a deep shade of hazel. He was not a particularly tall man, but next to her slight frame, even a short man would look quite tall. He had a deep cleft in his chin that added a bit of impishness to his features, but he was definitely in no physical condition to pose any threat to her well-being.
Her father had always enjoyed robust health, but she had nursed him through enough minor illnesses to know that he found his weakened state to be an embarrassment that often displayed itself in gruff words and complaints he later regretted and tried to assuage with a host of apologies.
Hopeful that the man who was walking so painfully away from her was no different and that she might be able to forge some sort of compromise that would allow them both the privacy they desired, she hurried forward and easily closed the short distance he had put between them. “I’m not certain what folks do wherever it is that you come from, but I wasn’t harvesting rocks,” she offered, following only a few paces behind him.
He ignored her and kept walking.
“No one harvests rocks. They harvest crops, of course, but I doubt anyone would ever consider rocks to be a crop. They’re quite a nuisance, actually, and I had to work very hard just to remove a few of them this morning. See? I even tore one of my gloves,” she offered and held out her hand, hoping he would turn around to see it.
Again, no response from him as he entered the shaded area beneath the trees where she had first seen him.
Frustrated, she refused to give up until she had prompted him to acknowledge the fact that she was walking right behind him, instead of acting like she had simply evaporated when he had dismissed her. “I was trying to clear the rocks from the soil so I could replant the garden that once grew here. I’m told Jane Canfield grew the prettiest flowers in the village.”
“Well, she doesn’t live here anymore. I do, and I’m quite certain I’ve no need for flowers,” he grumbled, without bothering to stop and turn around so they would be able to have a normal, face-to-face conversation.
“Perhaps if you would stop, for just a moment, we might—” She swallowed the rest of her words and charged forward when the poor man stumbled and dropped his cane. “Here. Let me help you.”
When his hand gripped her shoulder, she planted her feet in order to bear some of his weight without losing her own balance. Grimacing, he held onto her long enough to regain solid footing before he let go. “Thank you,” he offered, although he kept his gaze averted, no doubt embarrassed that he’d needed to accept her help.
She took a step back after handing his cane back to him and nodded. “You’re welcome. Perhaps … perhaps your decision to live here alone, without anyone to help you, was a mistake. I could help you,” she offered, voicing the idea before she had quite thought it through herself.
He snorted. “The next time I stumble over my own two feet, I’d rather not have to worry about whether or not I’ll snap you in two if I lean on you too hard. I’ll manage on my own, thank you.”
“You’re probably right in that regard, but I could help you in other ways. Assuming we could come to some sort of arrangement that would let me tend to my garden, that is.”
He cocked a brow. “I already told you. I don’t need any flowers.”
“Yes, you made that very clear,” she
She quickly reassessed her situation and focused her gaze on the man who was struggling to get back to the cabin. He was not the elderly man she had first assumed him to be. In point of fact, he was probably only a few years older than she was. The sun highlighted his dark auburn hair, which he wore pulled back into a queue, and his eyes were a deep shade of hazel. He was not a particularly tall man, but next to her slight frame, even a short man would look quite tall. He had a deep cleft in his chin that added a bit of impishness to his features, but he was definitely in no physical condition to pose any threat to her well-being.
Her father had always enjoyed robust health, but she had nursed him through enough minor illnesses to know that he found his weakened state to be an embarrassment that often displayed itself in gruff words and complaints he later regretted and tried to assuage with a host of apologies.
Hopeful that the man who was walking so painfully away from her was no different and that she might be able to forge some sort of compromise that would allow them both the privacy they desired, she hurried forward and easily closed the short distance he had put between them. “I’m not certain what folks do wherever it is that you come from, but I wasn’t harvesting rocks,” she offered, following only a few paces behind him.
He ignored her and kept walking.
“No one harvests rocks. They harvest crops, of course, but I doubt anyone would ever consider rocks to be a crop. They’re quite a nuisance, actually, and I had to work very hard just to remove a few of them this morning. See? I even tore one of my gloves,” she offered and held out her hand, hoping he would turn around to see it.
Again, no response from him as he entered the shaded area beneath the trees where she had first seen him.
Frustrated, she refused to give up until she had prompted him to acknowledge the fact that she was walking right behind him, instead of acting like she had simply evaporated when he had dismissed her. “I was trying to clear the rocks from the soil so I could replant the garden that once grew here. I’m told Jane Canfield grew the prettiest flowers in the village.”
“Well, she doesn’t live here anymore. I do, and I’m quite certain I’ve no need for flowers,” he grumbled, without bothering to stop and turn around so they would be able to have a normal, face-to-face conversation.
“Perhaps if you would stop, for just a moment, we might—” She swallowed the rest of her words and charged forward when the poor man stumbled and dropped his cane. “Here. Let me help you.”
When his hand gripped her shoulder, she planted her feet in order to bear some of his weight without losing her own balance. Grimacing, he held onto her long enough to regain solid footing before he let go. “Thank you,” he offered, although he kept his gaze averted, no doubt embarrassed that he’d needed to accept her help.
She took a step back after handing his cane back to him and nodded. “You’re welcome. Perhaps … perhaps your decision to live here alone, without anyone to help you, was a mistake. I could help you,” she offered, voicing the idea before she had quite thought it through herself.
He snorted. “The next time I stumble over my own two feet, I’d rather not have to worry about whether or not I’ll snap you in two if I lean on you too hard. I’ll manage on my own, thank you.”
“You’re probably right in that regard, but I could help you in other ways. Assuming we could come to some sort of arrangement that would let me tend to my garden, that is.”
He cocked a brow. “I already told you. I don’t need any flowers.”
“Yes, you made that very clear,” she
Similar Books
