Read Online Love's First Bloom by Delia Parr - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Delia Parr
Ads: Link
said.
“I can also cook for myself, so if you’re thinking that you might—”
“I wouldn’t want to cook for you. I don’t have the time,” she insisted. “But I could bring you supplies from the village from time to time or take something into the village for you. Some mail, perhaps.”
He let out a long sigh, but before he offered yet another objection, she continued. “You can barely manage to walk and—”
“Which is one of the consequences of falling off a roof and breaking your back, which I did several months ago. I assure you, lying abed, waiting to see if my back would heal well enough for me to even attempt to walk again was far worse,” he said quietly. “Now that I can get around a bit, there’s nothing I need more right now than a place where I can finish healing up with a bit of privacy, especially when my back decides to indulge in very painful spasms.”
Her heart swelled, both with admiration for his courage to survive such a devastating injury and in hope they might find common ground. “One of the consequences of becoming a widow with no means of supporting a little one is having no choice but to move into a relative’s home. And … and there’s nothing I need more right now than a place where I can go for a few hours each morning for a bit of privacy,” she replied.
He dropped his gaze.
For several painfully long moments she was afraid he would turn her down and send her away, but she was completely unprepared for the offer he finally made.
“Pile up the rocks you dig out, but leave them for me. I’ll need some of them to repair the cabin hearth. There’s a small shed behind the cabin. You can store your garden tools there and take or use anything else you might find in there. If I need something from the village, I’ll leave a note for you in the shed. Otherwise I expect you to respect my privacy; in turn, I’ll respect yours.”
Nine
Ruth was more than halfway home before she realized she did not even know the name of the man now living in the abandoned cabin.
There was a bit of traffic up and down Main Street now, and she waited until several wagons passed by before she paused midway on the bridge and glanced downriver. Just beyond her garden on the narrow tip of land that jutted into the river, she could see smoke was still curling up from the top of the chimney that just barely poked over the treetops. The cabin itself, however, was completely hidden from view.
Ruth assumed the occupant was back inside and shook her head. “Poor man,” she whispered, thankful that the heavy burdens that troubled her own life did not include a devastating injury like the one he had suffered.
“Poor man, middling or rich, to each a natural body is sown, but to each, a spiritual body must be raised, for a home in Paradise awaits only the faithful.”
Ruth looked up, recognized the man who was standing at the railing just a few yards away, and clapped her hand to her heart to keep it from leaping out of her chest. “Reverend Haines!”
He walked over to her, his eyes glistening. A good thirty years her senior, he was quite ordinary in looks, but he had been blessed with a deep, rich voice. “I’m so sorry, Ruth. I didn’t mean to startle you. I was just sounding out an idea for a sermon. I thought you saw me standing here when you stopped.”
She let out a long breath. “No, I didn’t see you, which isn’t your fault at all. I’m afraid this is the second time this morning that I’ve been too preoccupied to notice what’s going on around me.”
He smiled. “Since you were working again this morning in that garden you’re trying to restore, I can only assume you met Jake Spencer at some point.”
“You know about my garden?” she asked, and tucked Jake Spencer’s name away for future reference.
Turning back to face the railing, he pointed downriver. “It’s right over there. Same spot as Jane Canfield’s garden used to be.”
“I suppose it’s the talk of
“I can also cook for myself, so if you’re thinking that you might—”
“I wouldn’t want to cook for you. I don’t have the time,” she insisted. “But I could bring you supplies from the village from time to time or take something into the village for you. Some mail, perhaps.”
He let out a long sigh, but before he offered yet another objection, she continued. “You can barely manage to walk and—”
“Which is one of the consequences of falling off a roof and breaking your back, which I did several months ago. I assure you, lying abed, waiting to see if my back would heal well enough for me to even attempt to walk again was far worse,” he said quietly. “Now that I can get around a bit, there’s nothing I need more right now than a place where I can finish healing up with a bit of privacy, especially when my back decides to indulge in very painful spasms.”
Her heart swelled, both with admiration for his courage to survive such a devastating injury and in hope they might find common ground. “One of the consequences of becoming a widow with no means of supporting a little one is having no choice but to move into a relative’s home. And … and there’s nothing I need more right now than a place where I can go for a few hours each morning for a bit of privacy,” she replied.
He dropped his gaze.
For several painfully long moments she was afraid he would turn her down and send her away, but she was completely unprepared for the offer he finally made.
“Pile up the rocks you dig out, but leave them for me. I’ll need some of them to repair the cabin hearth. There’s a small shed behind the cabin. You can store your garden tools there and take or use anything else you might find in there. If I need something from the village, I’ll leave a note for you in the shed. Otherwise I expect you to respect my privacy; in turn, I’ll respect yours.”
Nine
Ruth was more than halfway home before she realized she did not even know the name of the man now living in the abandoned cabin.
There was a bit of traffic up and down Main Street now, and she waited until several wagons passed by before she paused midway on the bridge and glanced downriver. Just beyond her garden on the narrow tip of land that jutted into the river, she could see smoke was still curling up from the top of the chimney that just barely poked over the treetops. The cabin itself, however, was completely hidden from view.
Ruth assumed the occupant was back inside and shook her head. “Poor man,” she whispered, thankful that the heavy burdens that troubled her own life did not include a devastating injury like the one he had suffered.
“Poor man, middling or rich, to each a natural body is sown, but to each, a spiritual body must be raised, for a home in Paradise awaits only the faithful.”
Ruth looked up, recognized the man who was standing at the railing just a few yards away, and clapped her hand to her heart to keep it from leaping out of her chest. “Reverend Haines!”
He walked over to her, his eyes glistening. A good thirty years her senior, he was quite ordinary in looks, but he had been blessed with a deep, rich voice. “I’m so sorry, Ruth. I didn’t mean to startle you. I was just sounding out an idea for a sermon. I thought you saw me standing here when you stopped.”
She let out a long breath. “No, I didn’t see you, which isn’t your fault at all. I’m afraid this is the second time this morning that I’ve been too preoccupied to notice what’s going on around me.”
He smiled. “Since you were working again this morning in that garden you’re trying to restore, I can only assume you met Jake Spencer at some point.”
“You know about my garden?” she asked, and tucked Jake Spencer’s name away for future reference.
Turning back to face the railing, he pointed downriver. “It’s right over there. Same spot as Jane Canfield’s garden used to be.”
“I suppose it’s the talk of
Similar Books
