Authors: Annette Bower
“It’s true. Had this ticker repaired.” He tapped the front of his flannel shirt. “I have to take it easy. I’ll just sit on this here chair and tell you what to do.”
When Nick rounded the corner of the Lambs’ house, he heard Herman’s familiar rasp calling out, “No, not that way. Put it at an angle and step down close to the handle.”
Nick peered through the bushes and saw one long white leg struggling to stay balanced while the other pushed a garden fork into the very hard earth. The tongs barely penetrated, so she perched one leg on either side of the shaft to add more force. He watched her buttocks strain under jean cut-offs, then she collapsed in a shocked, winded heap.
Herman tried to push himself out of his chair, which seemed to hold him captive. The back yard erupted, not into screams for help, but bubbling mirth. Her laughter slowly rolled along until it erupted into hiccupped gushes, like fresh water flowing out of an open pipe.
Nick remained hidden. He wouldn’t interrupt but if they needed help, he’d be there. He welcomed Herman’s relaxed face flushed with life, and Anna’s white limbs flailing against black earth were a vision. Finally, she lay back and enjoyed her prone position. Her legs and arms splayed as if she were about to play one of the oldest games and create a dust angel. His heart lurched. He longed to join them, but he knew as soon as he emerged from the trees, everything would change. He felt the twinge of being an outsider, there to protect and observe only.
Before he walked down the path, he heard the quiet conversation turn toward different methods of opening the earth for new growth. He scrubbed his hand across his face, pushing away the scenes of earth opened in destruction from missiles and buried land mines, where limbs were torn open.
What was the matter with him? Maybe he needed more debriefing, more counseling.
No
. Exercise was what he needed.
He climbed into his truck and dialed his cell phone. “Jeremy, Nick here. Where are you and Shane now?” He slipped the keys into the ignition.
“Fifth,” Jeremy’s gruff voice barked.
“Great. I’ll be right there. I need a little exercise.” He started the truck and turned up Fifth Avenue. He would join the garbage crew and walk along hoisting the cans and his anxiety would dissipate. He was bound to smell the healthy stench of rotting fish guts.
It meant people were enjoying life, successful at a sport, and eating well.
Anna brushed off her knees and her shorts and swiped her hand across her eyes. “That didn’t work too well. Any other suggestions?”
“Not yet. But I’m sure after I think on it something will come to mind,” Herman replied.
Anna glanced at his face, checking for any signs of distress.
“Don’t look so concerned. The doctor told me laughter is an internal massage.”
“Herman, where are you?” Margaret called from the back step.
“He’s over here with me.” Anna walked toward the hedge gate. “He’s supervising me.”
“What are you two up to?” Margaret came over and took in the scene with one sweeping glance. “You’re going to plant a garden?”
“That was the original idea, but as you can see I haven’t made too much progress. The ground’s very hard.” Anna rubbed her backside.
Margaret put her hands on her hips. “Herman, why didn’t you just call Harvey? He has the equipment and it would be done in no time.”
“Never thought of it. I just remembered John always dug things up himself.”
“That was long ago. This earth hasn’t been turned in years. It’s going to need more than long legs and a garden fork.” She raised her eyebrows at Herman. “Anna is a lot prettier than Harvey.”
“Margaret, I can call. You sit down and I’ll bring out some iced tea.” Anna opened the summer door.
Margaret shook her head. “No, both of you stay where you are and I’ll call Harvey. He owes me a favor or two.”
“Best allow her to have her way. If something needs to be done in a hurry, Margaret is the woman to get that accomplished. She was the head of personnel for years before we retired. She has a way with folks.” Herman pulled his sweater tighter across his chest. “It’s chilly when the sun moves and all of a sudden I’m in the shade.”
“Have you had too much sun? Do you want to go in for a rest?” Anna asked.
He stood and picked up his aluminum folding chair. “I’ll have a little rest until Harvey comes. Then I’ll come and watch the show.”
After Herman closed the back door, Anna went inside and poured herself a glass of iced tea. She brought the newspaper and glass to the back deck where the sun warmed her little corner of her world.
Margaret’s suggestion of calling a handyman with a roto-tiller to break up the earth for a new garden had been smart. Unavoidable, but smart. Anna had no idea when Harvey and his machine would arrive but that was no longer in her control. Without her underlying assumption that pity prompted assistance, it was easier for Anna to accept help.
In the early afternoon, Margaret stood over Harvey, making sure he went over the ground twice. She directed the length and width while Herman sipped lemonade and Anna stood with her hands folded primly before her.
Harvey glanced shyly from under his peaked cap. He chuckled and blushed to a deep red when she paid him cash and included a substantial tip for his speed.
“You know, Annie,” Herman began, “things don’t usually happen this quickly, but Harvey can’t resist being the first to size up a pretty girl. Margaret, you’ll have some fences to mend. Some of your bridge buddies are on Harvey’s ‘Handyman Waiting List.’”
“I know, but it’s worth it. I was afraid next she’d be jumping on the spade and break a leg.” She looked pointedly at Anna. “Herman, you rest. Anna and I will drive to Alice’s greenhouse and get some plants for this garden. Besides, I need a few more geraniums for my own pots.”
Anna would have preferred a hot bath to ease her sore backside, but she wiggled onto the driver’s seat and gently snuggled her tender tailbone into the familiar cushioned space.
“The brown house on the corner with the veranda was built by one of the first families who moved here when Regina Beach became a village in 1920.” Margaret returned her attention to the road. “The beach has quite a history. Once, a resident put up an eight-foot fence and charged a dime for people to go swimming.”
“Probably a lot of money for some families.”
“You’re right. The story is that a Scotsman, wearing a kilt, walked along the shore playing his bagpipe. If anyone tried to swim around the fence they were met by two hairy legs and a menacing stare.”
Anna slowed for the four-way stop sign as Margaret continued, “Another resident took this to the Court of Kings Bench and was awarded access for him and his ancestors. But the fence came down and the village purchased the land.” Margaret paused to smile. “We’ve always had concerned citizens run for council. Actually, John Good took his turn for a few years. Perhaps it will be something you’d be interested in.”
“I don’t think so.” Anna wasn’t ready to decide things for people who lived and played here. “I’d have to be better known before considering that possibility.”
“Don’t worry. I just know you will be.” Margaret reached over and patted Anna’s knee.
Margaret kept up a running commentary about who lived where, who were the old settler families and who were the newcomers. Anna did the math and calculated newcomers were those who were here less than twenty years. She had a lifetime to become an old timer.
“Stop,” Margaret suddenly called. She pointed toward a pile of large rocks. “Those are exactly what you need to outline your garden and add to the appearance.”
“Do I buy them?”
“No. You don’t have to buy rocks in the country, but you have to haul them or pay to have them hauled.”
“Who do they belong to?”
“Probably the Donnelly place. I believe this is their land.” Margaret leaned toward the front window without unlocking her seat belt. “You should come here and ask Nick if you can have a few. If you put a couple in your car at a time, you’ll get the job done.”
Anna’s heart banged against her ribs. If this was his land, it was also Molly’s land. “Does Nick own land as well as his father?”
“It’s probably one of the town’s biggest secrets that Nick’s grandfather bequeathed his portion of the land to Nick. But no one says anything because Nick doesn’t get it until he returns home for good. Jack wanted Nick to have something to come home to.”
“Nick doesn’t know?”
“Not as far as any of us can gather. Jack probably won’t be home for another month or more and then he might tell Nick. All of us walkers and my bridge group suspect Internet dating.” Margaret blew air through her teeth. “As if there aren’t enough widows around this town!”
Anna concentrated on following the bend in the grid road. Both she and Nick were unexpected beneficiaries of land
.
Nick would suspect he would inherit land because his father’s would eventually pass on to him. This did not necessarily give her another thing in common with him.
Forget it.
“Anna, wake up.” Margaret brought Anna out of her reverie. “I told you to turn here.”
Anna pressed hard on the brake and made the turn into ‘Alice’s Greenhouse and Pumpkin Patch.’
Between the greenhouse owner and Margaret, Anna’s trunk and back seat soon filled with perennials and annuals. The little name spikes promised colorful blossoms or vibrant vegetables. When they drove past the B&B, Anna kept her eyes straight ahead and her mind focused on her dream, as a self-caring, independent business woman. A little smile of satisfaction pulled at her lips.
Margaret noticed her expression. “What are you smiling at? There’s still a lot of work to do.”
“I was thinking about how nice it is to be a stranger and learning new things.” Anna drummed her fingers against the steering wheel to a tune on the radio.
When they turned onto Green Avenue, Margaret gave Anna’s shoulder a squeeze. “I’d say by the look in your eyes, you’ve learned a lot about life. You don’t have to be a stranger. You could always share it with me.” She seemed just a bit too anticipatory.
Anna shook her head. “You’ve been very kind to me. You’ll be the first to know my story if I decide to share my past.”
“Were you adopted by any chance?” Margaret pressed.
“Yes.”
“I’m satisfied with that. I used to be a mystery woman, too.” Margaret settled back into the seat.
“Really? Want to tell me?” Anna stole a look at Margaret’s ‘straight-ahead’ posture.
“Maybe someday when we’re sitting under the umbrella and a nice soft rain reminds me of my parent’s home, I’ll tell you. But for now, I’ll save my breath to move these plants.”
“No, you don’t! You check on Herman, and I’ll unload the car. I’ll bring your plants over and put them on your deck.”
“You’re a sweet thing.” Margaret reached out and patted Anna’s cheek.
While Anna placed each carton of plants around the periphery of her newly tilled garden, she thought more and more about the added dimension of a natural rock frame. If she drove out to see Nick tonight, she could begin to gather rocks tomorrow.
The scent from the lilacs on the table was a welcome homecoming. No, tonight she’d stay home. She opened the hall closet and grasped the handle of the tattered guitar case. She carried it to her seat under the trees and strummed against the backdrop of nature’s serenity, her mind wandering as she hummed along.
When Nick came to mind, she accepted the image of dark smiling eyes and furrows of brown skin and muscle, eddying from a wide-mouthed smile. For the first time in a very long time, she felt at ease thinking of another man, of a face different than blue eyes, rounded cheeks and warm, tender lips. For a moment, Murray’s face seemed to fade with the wistfulness of a remembered tune and half-forgotten words.
Slowly, her fingers loosened on the frets and she laid the guitar across her lap. The soft ripples across the water soothed her, its motion probably familiar to all who’d sat here since the ice age. It was easy to imagine a Plains Indian astride his horse guarding maiden girls washing their bowls and utensils on the lake’s edge, while the elders taught the young boys to read the currents from the canoes.
Here, surrounded by nature, she felt as though she could accept the passing of souls from one dimension to another in peace.
Chapter 5
Anna rolled the rock to the edge of the trunk and slid her arms around it. Why did she ever think it looked like a sleeping cat? Now it was just rough, dirty, and heavy. Her biceps bulged when she lifted it. She looked at her load and then up the steps that led to the backyard. The only way this feline mirage was going to be sleeping beside her petunias was if she rolled it there. She spread her legs and squatted to lower the rock, keeping her toes at a safe distance. Her thighs and calves strained against its weight.
When it was safely nestled on the ground at the edge of the step, she straightened. It wasn’t this heavy when she’d put it in her car; the angles had been different. Rubbing her back, she stood waiting for the sun to show her the shadows of eyes and nose and the dusting of tabby tiger stripes. Not there. Maybe rocks didn’t transplant well. Perhaps this explained why they looked so sad, piled haphazardly in the fields she’d driven by on her exploratory ventures. She hoped she didn’t look as sad now that she’d transplanted herself.
“What are you up to now, Anna Jenkins?”
Anna turned toward the street. Nick stood with a wide-legged stance, hands on his hips, the peak of his cap shadowing his eyes.
“You sound like John Wayne.” She curtsied. “Well sir, I was being a farmer. Could you help a lady in distress?” She batted her eyelashes at him.
“I hate to tell you, city lady, but most of us who cultivate the land take rocks away. We don’t bring them home.”
“There are piles everywhere and they look so lonesome, sir.” She pretended to pick up a long skirt and wave it back and forth. “You wouldn’t happen to have a block and tackle to come to the aid of a city woman, would you?”
“I’m on my way up to have lunch with Margaret and Herman. I’ll come by your side of the hedge and take that to where you want it if you like.”
Her heart flipped and a slow smile followed on her lips. “The way the sun is against your back right now, you look like a hero out of my childhood memories. Bring on your powers.”
He stuck his thumbs in his belt loops and swaggered toward her. “So where exactly would you like me to put it, little lady?”
She nudged the treasure with her toe. “Follow me.” The rustle of new leaves against her legs sounded like the swish of many skirts of the prairie women of the past.
“Can you hold onto it a minute longer?” The request brought Nick out of his trance. Holy smokes, the woman had legs that went on forever in her blue jeans.
He’d seen women dancing and walking around with T-shirts that left a gap of skin until their low-rise jeans started. They had nothing on the mystery of an old sweatshirt sliding from one hip to the other. When she looked over her shoulder to see if he was following, the thought he’d follow her anywhere was just . . . there. Peeking out from under everything; giving him a glimpse of what he wanted to be—a husband, a father, a grandfather.
Nick held on to the rock for a minute longer until he got himself under control. One leg or two, he was whole. “I’ve learned patience.”
“I’m just not sure where it should be. I want to see what I saw in the rock when it was nestled in the bush. It needs the right light.”
He dampened down a grin. “They won’t grow or change, no matter how much sun and water they have.”
“But they can change. I’ve seen it. Everything changes.” Her eyes did a slow, deliberate blink as if they were shutting themselves against unpleasant memories.
He understood that movement.
“Are you two going to stand there all day? Soup’s getting cold, Nick,” Herman called across the hedge.
“Here—yes, here. That’s where it’s supposed to be.” She looked from the patch of ground to the rock cradled in Nick’s arms. “Here.” She marked a line in the ground.
He squatted and dropped the rock.
“Careful,” she said.
“Anna, it’s a rock.”
She tipped her head and smiled. “Sometimes it’s a rock and sometimes it’s a cat.” She knelt beside him and pointed with her fingertip to an indentation that did look like an eye.
If he squinted he could almost see whiskers. “At least you’ll never have to change a litter box with this one,” he chuckled, and stood, dusting his knees.
She looked up at him with a sparkle usually seen in a child’s eyes. Placing her hand on the spot that curved like the back of a cat, she shook hair away from her neck. “Thank you. I would have given up if you hadn’t come along.”
“You’re welcome.” Leaning closer, he kissed her quick and light on her surprised lips and then cupped her chin in his palm as his thumb traced over her supple mouth.
Anna gazed up at him squinting against the sun, a slow smile forming before she nipped at his thumb. “Meow.”
Nick dropped his hand and stood. “Don’t let Molly know you have a cat in your yard, she’ll encourage it to leave.” He made himself turn and crossed over to the Lambs’ yard. The aroma of chicken noodle soup and fresh baked rolls almost explained the sense of magical anticipation he held.
Even after Herman slapped him on the back. “Come on in, son. I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry. I worked up an appetite just thinking about landscaping.”
Anna smoothed the dirt around the rock with one hand and shielded her eyes from the sun with the other as she watched him leave. She licked her lips and tasted salt. What had compelled Nick to kiss her? Regardless of the reason, she was glad he did. She swallowed a lump of disappointment knowing she couldn’t go to Nick’s to pick the rocks in his field. She’d continue choosing and collecting stones from other locations for her garden frame. On her walks around the lake shore, she’d spotted many. The rock next to her cat she found at the Point where it had been pushed up on to the shore after spring breakup.
She rubbed the small of her back. It was time to work on a miniature house design. The only muscle she’d strain would be her wrist.
After gulping down a glass of ice water, she sat at her desk. The sound of an engine and the crunch of gravel drew her attention away from her drawings and toward the road just in time to see Nick’s truck drive away.
A beep indicating she had an email summoned her away from her sketches. Her mother had messaged, asking if she was ready for a visit. Anna sat back and wondered about it. Was she ready for the past to merge into her present?
Her fingers hovered above the letters, then typed, ‘Not yet.’ She didn’t have to deny them a visit but she could set it in the future. That way, she’d have something to look forward to as she readied herself emotionally. She pressed her hand to her stomach. It didn’t quiver as it had over the past year, when she cried for a future she’d never have.
“Hey, Margi!” Nick called to the postmistress.
“How’s your dad?” She asked the same question everyone asked. He should be thankful they forgot to ask him how
he
was. His limp had improved so they assumed he was better. He didn’t want anyone to feel sorry for him. He preferred people would not notice his prosthetic foot. That was his goal.
“His last email was vague. He seems to be doing a lot of dancing.” Nick chuckled.
“Are you coming to the community dance tonight?”
“Guess I have to. I promised Jesse Zimmer I’d waltz with her tonight.”
Margi straightened her Canada Post blouse. “I wouldn’t mind if you added me to your list, too.”
“And get my butt kicked by Jim? I don’t think so.”
Margi smiled. “Come on, you have six inches on him. You could outrun him if you had to.”
“Now that would be a sight the town wouldn’t forget in a long time.” He rolled the flyers around a letter with the Canadian Armed Forces return address. “See you later. I’ll stick to my usual women and you stick with your man, Margi.”
Outside the post office, Nick’s fingers trembled when he slid the blade of his penknife under the flap. The date for his physical endurance assessment was in two weeks. Dancing with Jesse would be good practice for keeping his toes out of harm’s way.
Anna patted the warm cat rock curled in the corner of her garden, then walked to the hardware/lumber store.
She met George, the lumber manager, who confirmed he was capable of building assessments and construction.
“I’m not in the market for major renovations,” Anna cautioned, wanting to be honest about her need for a four-season home. “If I know exactly what I have, then I can make informed decisions.”
“Oh. You want to see if you can live here before you spend a lot of money. Don’t blame you.”
“I like to be certain I have the money to spend.” She pointed to the slingshot hanging out of his back pocket. “What’s that for?”
“I have to keep the crows out of the tall trees. The ladies at the Wrinkle Ranch complain the birds wake them up too early.” He scratched his head. “Let me look at my calendar. I could come over tomorrow some time.”
“Morning or afternoon?”
“Can’t say.”
“Then I’ll hang around my house tomorrow.” He could take a few lessons from Jan, she thought. Still, when he was the only game in town he must be busy. She lent him an excuse. “I will need other building supplies too.”
“What’re you building?”
“A miniature house.”
“Like a playhouse?”
“No, similar to a dollhouse.” There. She’d told a stranger.
“Little big to be playing with dolls, aren’t you?” He smirked. Well, follow me.” He gestured. “I’ve got a piece of wood I’ve been saving for just the right customer and I think you’re it.”
George meandered across Center Street as if all vehicles should give him the right of way. Anna stopped and looked both ways before she crossed to catch up with him. He pulled a large door open and walked down the center aisle. Reaching into a compartment, he eased out a piece of beautiful plywood and caressed it. “This what you’re looking for?”
She ran her hand along the smooth, straight surface. “Perfect.”
“I’ll bring it along tomorrow.” He gave the wood a final little pat.
Anna made another professional contact. He hadn’t laughed when she announced her tentative entrepreneurial idea for someone else to hear. On her way home, she found a hopscotch game etched in the gravel on the side of the road, and didn’t resist hopping through the squares on one foot, then two, then back to one. When she reached the half moon end, she turned around and repeated her steps.
Her dinner dishes were washed and stacked in her cupboard. Her floors continued to shine. She needed milk for her coffee in the morning, and the evening stretched ahead of her. She gave her head a quick shake and ran her fingers along her scalp. Her curls were looser. Anna flicked the hangers holding her scant wardrobe. It had to be jeans and a T-shirt again. She’d add a blazer for warmth.
After she picked up the milk and had a polite conversation with the clerk, she cruised up and down the streets of Regina Beach. On Sixteenth Street she turned south and drove up the hill that led out of the valley and back to the highway instead of back to town. She continued on the back road and one turn led to another.
One side of the highway was a lovely pile of rocks, and the other was the Donnelly B&B. If she was going to hang around her house all day tomorrow and perhaps begin her house repairs and start her project, she wouldn’t have as much time to search for individual rocks. She should ask Nick if she could go through his forgotten pile.
Should she offer to purchase the rocks? Should she just ask permission to take some and promise not to ruin the field? She parked her car in the driveway. As her hand pulled on the driver door handle, Nick’s large black beast barked and pawed at her door. Her old neurosis froze her in position.
It seemed like hours before the B&B front door opened. Nick stood on the veranda waiting for her. She couldn’t open the door while that animal was ready to pounce and ravage her with its sharp, gleaming teeth and open jaw.
She screamed when the driver’s door opened. Her eyes filled with tears as Nick’s raised brows and startled eyes came into focus.
“What’s wrong?”
Anna focused on slowing her breathing. She held her palm up, requesting a moment.
“Come into the house,” he urged.
“No, I can’t. I didn’t think . . .” She pushed back her hair with a hand that trembled.
Nick closed the car door carefully while she laid her forehead on the steering wheel. She’d give herself a minute and then drive home and never return. She could hardly breathe and the dog was on the other side of a steel car door.
She heard the click of the passenger door opening, felt the breeze flow through the car, which cooled her skin. The car shifted, and when she turned, she found Nick seated calmly, waiting for her to gain control.
“I usually don’t have this effect on a female when I open my front door.”
She offered him a tentative smile. “It wasn’t you. It was your dog.” She pointed at the nose pressed up against the passenger window.
“Why don’t you turn around and drive into town? I was going anyway. You can drop me off at the community hall.”
“Okay.” She geared into reverse. While her turn signal flickered, her heart seemed to pick up the beat.
“Want to tell me why you came to my door?” he asked.
“Rocks.”
“Rocks?”
“Garden.” Her hands were steadier on the wheel.
“Let’s start again.”