I have to weave through several downed tree limbs scattered between our homes before I reach the garden. My yard has nothing but puddles and twigs. Nothing a rake anda controlled fire won’t fix.
Thankfully, everything in the gated garden is fine, and nothing should be thirsty for the next several days at least.
When I get back to his house, Jonah’s walking from the barn with the dogs and slows down to meet me. He twirls something small between his fingers. He’s in fitted jeans, barn boots, and a crisp white T-shirt. No one has any business being that attractive this early in the morning.
“I see you got my note,” he nods to the nearly empty coffee cup in my hand.
“Thanks. Are the animals okay?”
“Seems like it. Everyone’s accounted for and eating their breakfast.” A slight pause hangs between us before he lifts his hand to offer me...
“A four-leaf clover?”
“I always find them. I used to stick ‘em between two pieces of clear tape to preserve.”
My fingers spin the delicate trefoil. As a biologist, I know four-leaf clovers aren’t that rare. Yet, I still feel childlike wonder when I see one.
“Used to?” I ask.
He shrugs. “Haven’t done it in a while. I had hundreds. After a while, I just gave them away. Watching people get excited over it was more enjoyable than keeping them.”
Oh, for the love of God. Why does he have to say things like that? Now my insides are goo while I pretend I’m not the kind of woman who liquifies over sentimental nonsense.
He finds four-leaf clovers everywhere? Of course he does. Of course the universe just sprinkles little symbols of good luck at his feet like he’s some kind of whimsical forest prince. Meanwhile I’m over here stepping on the cracks in pavement and assuming every man is a walking red flag.
And the audacity to say he gives them away because he likes watching the joy on their faces.Ughh.I mean whatkind of guy spreads good luck around just because it makes other people happy?
Certainly not Greg. He was the kind of guy who leeched off other people’s good fortune. He was moreI found something valuable and I’m gonna bleed it for all it’s worth, notHere, take this tiny miracle, I like your smile.
Ughh.No. No smiling. I refuse to smile.
...Okay, perhaps a tiny one. Internally. And buried deep.
There’s a cynical part of me scrambling for something snarky, anything to reestablish the correct amount of distance, but it’s like trying to hold back a tide with a tissue.
Hands on his hips, he turns to gaze out on his property. “I’ll need to take the tractor out and clean up the fallen branches.”
“Do you want some help?” I ask because it’s a knee-jerk reaction to offer, but also, he helped us and I should return the favor.
He’s a bit stunned for a moment. “You don’t have to do that. I got it.”
“It’s no trouble. Truthfully, I’ve always wanted to hike around your property and explore.”
“Well, you have my permission to do that at any time.”
His open invitation warms something inside me, and I fight back a smile as my stomach swoops.
When Amber departs to prepare for work twenty minutes later, she brings Delta and Lo to join us outside. We walk with farmer Jonah and his tractor. He’s desperately trying to look like he knows what he’s doing and it’s not working. As he’s figuring things out, we walk with him, gathering small branches and tossing them in his trailer.
We mainly stay on the path, which is flanked by flowering dogwood trees. By my estimation, the deciduous trees were all planted about sixty years ago. While they’re native to this part of North America, most are planted for their beauty. Between their springtime greenish-yellow flowers,pink bracts, and distinctive bark, it’s one of my favorites.
As we reach the top of the hill, a huge dogwood tree, split in two, lies across the path roughly fifteen feet away. Yogi and Rugger check it out first, with warning barks to stop Jonah. He kills the engine and hops down to retrieve the chainsaw in the trailer.
“Is that a saw?” Delta asks, following Jonah like he’s the most interesting person in the world.
“This, Ladybug”—he starts, placing one foot on the fallen trunk and displaying the dirty tool like it’s on a showroom floor—“is a Husqvarna 450 Rancher 20-inch gas chainsaw, with 3.2 horsepower and a 2-cycle X-Torq engine.”
Lo runs up to touch the handle.
