What in the world?
A small torn piece of paper lay on top, and when I picked it up, my stomach dropped. It was a handwritten Bible verse.
“The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.” - Psalm 34:18
This had to be from the guy from last night. Mr.Cowboy. And a month ago, it seemed like something I would have done—give a Bible quote to a friend who was down or in mourning. But right now, it just made me angry. I didn’t want God to uplift my spirit. I wanted my husband back. And how dare this guy assume I wanted Bible verses and chopped wood!
Well, the wood was nice because I was freezing, so I’d take that.
I dragged the wood in and crumpled the Bible note, but I stopped short of chucking it into the wood stove. There, next to the big old black stove, was the little table James had set up with our his-and-hers Bibles on top. On either side of the table were two well-worn recliners we’d gotten secondhand.
My Bible was pink leather with my name embossed in gold, and his was brown with his name in gold as well. It had been our one-year anniversary gift to each other, and we’d envisioned many joint Bible studies by this fire.
With a lump in my throat, I slipped the crumpled piece of paper into my Bible and then made a fire.
After loading the woodstove and getting a nice roaring fire going, I made some breakfast and started searching online for jobs in town. Sitting alone in this house wasn’t going to help me move past my grief. I needed a distraction. Not to mention the money. James had a life insurance policy, but it wasn’t enough to last my whole life. It would get me by for maybe six months, but if we needed a new roof or anything like that, we were in trouble. IfIneeded a new roof,Iwas in trouble. I corrected my thinking. BecausewewasInow.
That thought depressed me, and so did the job postingsin town. I’d been the office manager of a busy dental office back in Boise, and all they had here in Willow Harbor was a cashier job at the donut shop. No work was beneath me, but the pay was less than half of what I had been making at the dental office, and it hadnobenefits. I needed health insurance now that I wasn’t getting it from James’s job as a software engineer.
I sighed, and then there was a knock at the door.
Better not be the firewood man with more Bible verses.I’d have chased him outta here with a sharp tongue. I wasnotin the mood. But the mere thought saddened me. When had I become so angry? I’d never had thoughts like this before.
When I pulled the door back, I came face to face with…a chicken.
I blinked rapidly, trying to figure out how the chicken rang my doorbell, when an older woman swam into view.
“Sorry!” she called as she swooped down and grabbed the black hen. “I rang the doorbell, and then this one got out of the trailer.”
I peered at her truck in my driveway and scanned the sticker on the side of the animal trailer.
Darlene’s Farm Animals.
“That’s okay.” I smoothed my hair. When was the last time I’d showered? I must have looked a mess. “How can I help you?”
“Should I bring them out back to the barn?” she asked me with a confused look on her face.
I frowned. “Umm, no. They’re not mine.”
Her face fell. “Did I ruin the surprise?” She peered behind me as if she expected to see James come out to greether any moment, and my impossibly fractured heart broke a little bit more. “Your husband said it was a surprise, and he was going to tell you before I delivered the animals he got you.”
I couldn’t find my voice. James… he had known I wanted chickens and goats eventually, but we’d talked about pacing ourselves.
“These…are mine?” I cleared my throat, forcing a smile, something I was getting good at. “I just can’t believe it!” I told her, and her concern gave way to joy.
“Your husband said this has always been your guys’ dream. We’re happy to help. I’ve been breeding and raising livestock my whole life. He picked out the best of the best for you. Is he home?”
A tear slipped from my eyes and rolled down my cheek, but she graciously ignored it.
“He’s at work,” I lied. “What a wonderful surprise. You can bring them to the barn. I’ll meet you out there.”
“Sounds good,” she told me, probably assuming I was emotional at the sweet gesture.
The barn. The barn was empty. No hay, no watering bins, nothing. Before I could say anything more, she chucked the black chicken into the driver’s seat and drove out of our driveway and onto the side road parallel to our home that led to the giant red barn.
I had fallen in love with the barn before I’d even seen the house. The real estate agent had decided to list the picture of the red barn and rolling hills as the main picture for the property, and I knew it was the one right then. I told James that I wanted to fill the barn with chickens, a pair ofgoats, and a highland cow. I was daydreaming. I never thought he’d do it right away.
After wiping at my eyes, I slipped on some boots and stepped outside with a shaky breath.
