“Roland and me?” she asked, aghast at the idea.
“Well, sure. You guys weren’t competitive because you hated each other. You were competitive because you were attracted to each other.”
Whoa. Was that true?
She didn’t recall having tender feelings toward Roland. Not even one.
Did she?
She’d been so busy competing with him that she’d never stopped to examine how she might really feel. It was just so satisfying to beat him every time. She would think about the valentine that he had made fun of her about, the way she had cried and how hurt she’d been, and it just felt like that much more satisfaction.
“I do remember that teachers commented on our rivalry, and looking back, I think you’re right. Roland made me a better student. He kept me focused on the things that I really should have been focused on, even if I wasn’t doing them for exactly the right reasons.”
“I think you’re missing the point. There was some romantic interest between the two of you.”
“I don’t think there was,” she said honestly. But in hindsight, maybe her grandmother was right. It was funny how she totally didn’t notice anyone else or even care about their grades. She didn’t even care about hers. As long as she beat Roland. She really hadn’t thought of him in a romantic way, but maybe it was something that was there, just not on her radar.
She hadn’t been interested in any other boys. And come to think of it, the ones she had gone out with hadn’t consumed her the way Roland had. And maybe, just maybe, she had compared some of them to him and found them wanting.
“Now that you say something, maybe…maybe there was a bit of attraction there. I know I really enjoyed our rivalry, although I would have said that the thought of him turned my stomach and that he was mean and unkind and a big jerk. But…he really wasn’t, was he?”
Her grandma smiled, kindly, as she chopped tomatoes at the table. She shook her head. “No. He really wasn’t. He was a nice young man, and I was disappointed when the two of you didn’t get together. I thought you were perfect for each other. The same way my Stuart was perfect for me. He was such a good man. Gone too soon.”
Her grandma was quiet for a few beats, and Nelly had to admit that she was relieved that her gram seemed to be completely back in the present. The episodes of her being confused, or lost in the past, were scary and unsettling. She knew it was a part of growing older, and something that she had to face, but she didn’t want to.
“So, anything new in town?” her gram asked.
One of the things that her gram really loved was the fact that Nelly still got out and told her all of the things that were going on. Her gram had different places that she went, and then they compared notes. It made her gram feel like she could still stay involved and made her less sad that she couldn’t do all the things that she used to do.
“Well, I heard that the Johnson family needs firewood, and that came from the school nurse, who talked to one of the children, who had come to school and refused to take their coat off. Apparently, they were afraid that the school was going to be as cold as their house.” She had felt bad for the little one and had determined to get the wood to the Johnson family as quickly as she could.
“Oh, that’s sad. I remember cutting wood when I was young. I enjoyed doing that with my dad. He would take us all out into the woods with his chainsaw, cut up the logs into billets, and we would carry them to his pickup. It was work that my siblings really didn’t enjoy, but I loved being out in the woods.”
“I’m sure that was fun,” Nelly said. She hadn’t exactly gone out in the woods and gotten hers. She had strategically talked to someone who knew someone who owned a log truck. That person hadbrought her a load of firewood, paid for in cash by someone who knew someone. Then, she paid someone else to cut it up.
She was going to go herself in Gram’s old pickup, which of course used to be her grandpa’s, and take a load to the Johnson family.
She’d been setting it up for a while, because she’d heard that they had a bill and couldn’t afford their heat and had turned their heat way down so they didn’t have to order oil before Christmas. Hearing about the little one who refused to take his coat off had made her step up her efforts, and she was ready to do it tonight.
She had her eye on midnight or slightly thereafter. She figured she could take a little nap before she left and then sleep a bit afterward. That seemed to be the best time, and then that gave her four hours give or take to load her pickup and then unload it at the Johnsons’. She might even be able to get two loads if she hurried.
She wasn’t sure exactly how long it would take, but it felt good to be planning it and to know that tomorrow morning, the Johnsons’ worry about keeping their house warm would be completely over.
Chapter Six
Roland arrived at the Johnsons’ about a half an hour after midnight. He parked down the street, even though it would mean slipping through the Johnsons’ backyard and a little bit of extra walking. It was worth it in order not to meet anyone. He didn’t want to lose his anonymity, especially not this early in the year. Judd was counting on him, but he had his own personal goals as well—he was really enjoying the Secret Saint thing. It made him feel like he had a purpose, and it made him feel happy and good inside to do good for others. He didn’t want to lose that.
There was something about no one knowing who he was that made it extra special.
If everyone knew he was doing it, it just wouldn’t be as fun. The idea of sneaking around and making it happen without people finding out was just too delicious and really worked with his goofy and somewhat silly personality.
He supposed that was the way the youngest always was—a little bit of a baby at times. Although he hated to admit it and wished he could shake that reputation.
Regardless, he parked the truck, grabbed an armful of wood, and started toward the Johnson house.
Their woodpile was off to the side in the front by their outdoor furnace. He stacked the first load of wood and turned to walk back toward his truck, adjusting his ski mask to make sure that it completely covered his face.
He’d even bought different boots than what he normally wore for his Secret Saint gig.
