You could get to know more about her, said a wee small voice inside him, though he wasn’t sure it would be wise to heed its counsel. On the other hand, what if it was time for a new life, new friends, a new perspective?
He finished his breakfast as he thoughtfully gazed out over the lake where cattails swayed gently in the breeze and a lone sailboat was tacking toward the far shore. In Ohio, spring had yet to be sprung, flowers had yet to bloom, and in some places, snow had yet to melt. Back home he had an apartment, a dracaena that needed watering and a landlady who insisted on mothering him. At the moment, the most important thing seemed to be the dracaena, which ought to tell him something about himself, his life and what he planned to do with it.
Back home was a situation that he was loath to face, but he wasn’t ready to admit that yet even to himself. And so he daydreamed of buying a sailboat of his own and sailing it across Pine Hollow Lake without a care in the world and with a charming woman by his side.
She looked a lot like Dixie Lee Smith, but she could have been anybody. Anybody he didn’t know.
WHEN DIXIE ARRIVED home from church, Kyle was weeding the flower beds.
She didn’t notice him as she parked her Mustang in the detached garage, but as she walked toward the house, she stopped short at the sight of him wearing old khaki shorts that he’d found in a box labeled Church Charity Closet. The box had held other garments, none of which appeared as if they’d fit Dixie—a pair of boys’ overalls, baby things, children’s winter coats.
She stood there, hands on her hips and head cocked to one side. “Why, Kyle Sherman!” she exclaimed. “What on earth are you doing?”
“Work that needs to be done.” He straightened and smiled at her, wiping the perspiration from his forehead.
“I certainly didn’t expect you to hire on as my yard man,” she said, but it was clear that she was pleased. She walked around the flower bed, studying it. “I plan to plant marigolds here, all colors,” she said.
“That would be pretty,” he said. “I figured that in this climate, you might be ready for planting.”
“It’ll be soon, but I’m not much of a gardener. My sister, Carrie, used to have the most beautiful plantings all around the home place. That’s where she lived before she got married. She and her husband claim they’re going to take up residence there, and I wouldn’t be surprised if they do.”
“That’s the sister who lives in Rome?”
“She’s only visiting there while her husband is on location. She’s married to Luke Mason, the movie star. She met him when he was filming a movie here.”
“I never knew anyone who married a movie star.”
“It took everyone in our family by surprise.”
Kyle knelt again, determined to finish this job before she made him leave. “I figure we can go get my truck after I’m through here. If you have time, I mean.”
“I drove past the dentist’s office on my way home from church. That sure is a different-looking truck you have, all that chrome and the boxy shape of it.”
It wasn’t the first time someone had been curious about the truck, a modified pickup. “I’m a farrier,” he said.
“A what?”
“A horseshoer. I shoe horses. I carry equipment with me. Forge, anvil, grinders, horseshoes, things like that.”
She appeared intrigued. “You’re the first farrier I’ve ever met. Where do you work?”
“I have my own business and service stable horses, pets, a few mules here and there. I love what I do, and it fits in well with my hobby. I take care of the cavalry horses at the reenactments.”
Dixie sat on a nearby tree stump. “Some of the things you said last night about reenactments—they touched me,” she said. “Though I could do without your being related to General Sherman.”
He glanced at her briefly, but kept weeding, tossing uprooted plants into an old bushel basket. “If it’s any comfort, my great-grandfather was never formally acknowledged by the Sherman family. He was the illegitimate child of the general’s unmarried son and took the Sherman name only after his father died.”
“Oh. Is that a sore point?”
“Not to me, but you won’t find our branch of the family on any genealogical charts.”
She thought that over for a moment. “Um, where can I go to a reenactment?”
“In Camden there’s an excellent one every fall. It’s a Revolutionary War reenactment, so I don’t participate, but you might enjoy it.”
“The battle of Camden…didn’t the Americans lose that one?”
He grinned. “I’m afraid so. You’re up on your history lessons.”
“I won a medal in eighth grade for the highest average in middle-school history courses. I was proud of it.”
He stood up, surveyed the flower bed. He’d eliminated the weeds, but it still needed edging. “That’s a whole lot better. I’d be glad to clear the weeds out of the other beds for you.”
“Aren’t we going to drive downtown to get your truck?”
“Well, sure.” He leaned back, hands on his hips. “It’s just that I don’t really need to be anyplace special right away. I have another guy covering my business for me back in Ohio. In fact, I’d like to ride around the horse country near Camden, and if you’re agreeable, maybe we could barter a few more days’ lodging in your cottage for my work around the place.”
“Yankee, you’ve got a deal.”
He reached out his hand to shake hers then quickly withdrew it when he realized his was too dirty to touch anything but more weeds. “I guess I’d better take another shower,” he said ruefully.
“Okay, I’m going to change clothes. I’ll be going on to my grandmother’s house for Sunday dinner.” She hesitated, clearly unsure of her ground. “You could come with me if you like. It’s nothing fancy, just a simple family meal, but you’ll leave well fed.”
“I’d like that,” he said slowly. “I’d like it a lot.”
Dixie aimed a smile at him, one that could knock a man over at twenty paces. Her skirt swung with a flirtatious flip as she started toward the house. “Be ready in half an hour, and I’ll tell Memaw that there’ll be one extra. We’ll go get your truck first and drop it off here on our way to her house.” She stopped and frowned, half turning around. “Another thing,” she added. “While we’re there, don’t tell anyone your last name.” She disappeared into the house, the door shutting firmly behind her.
What the heck does she mean, don’t tell anyone your last name? Kyle wondered as he hefted the basket of weeds. Still puzzling over it, he went to check his cell phone. It still hadn’t revived, but that was okay. Suddenly he didn’t feel a need to be connected, and that was a freeing feeling. Whistling,
