How would I know?I’d seen a few rental cars at her house over the past few weeks, but now, nothing.
I shrugged, my stomach knotting at the thought that she didn’t. “I don’t know, but she…” I didn’t want to speak badly of the woman or divulge anything about her private moment I’d witnessed. “Seems angry. Doesn’t want to be bothered.”
Maggie waved me off. “Of course she’s angry. She’s young and just lost her husband, but that doesn’t mean she wants to be alone. We should make sure she doesn’t need help.”
I scratched my head. “Well, I kind of saw her…struggle last night chopping firewood. Poor woman looks like she’s never held an axe in her life.” I vowed not to reveal what I really saw because it still broke my heart to think about it. I’d had to restrain myself from walking over, pulling her into my arms, and hugging her. Her pain was palpable, and I knew that pain all too well. But I didn’t want to overstep.
Maggie perked up, giving me that no-nonsense look. “If she needs help chopping wood, then you better help her,Seth Jacob Knight.”
Uh oh. Full name.
“I did.” I held my hands up in defense. “I left a fresh pile on her back porch this morning, and at the feed store in the afternoon, she told me she didn’t need any more.” Maybe not in those exact words, but she’d rejected my offer and stormed off.
Maggie scoffed, heaping out two portions of stew into our bowls. “You think she knows what she needs right now? You think God wants you to let a widow suffer trying to learn to chop wood while her heart is still raw with grief?” Maggie stared me down in a way only she could. A way that made the judgment of God come over me.
I sighed. “No, ma’am.”
Maggie nodded. “That girl doesn’t know what she needs right now, and you, of all people, know that. You’ll do the right thing.”
She set the bowl in front of me, and that was that. Maggie was just going to leave me to figure this out on my own.
Great.
Chapter Seven
Ella
The next morning, I spent two hours on YouTube and was now a self-proclaimed chicken, goat, and highland cow expert.Andafter watching three videos on how to chop firewood, I was ready to take another stab at that. I had high hopes I wouldn’t chop my foot off.
Armed with gloves and steel-toed boots, I yanked the back door open, only to be met with another perfectly chopped bundle of wood.
And there was a handwritten quote on paper resting on top.
"When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you." - Isaiah 43:2
My throat tightened with emotion, but at the same time, I was livid. I didn’t want to be confronted with God’s word right now! I was mad at God. He’d allowed my husband to be taken. My faith was less than a mustard seed. It was the size of an atom and slowly shrinking by the day. How entitled of this man to assume that I wanted firewood and Bible verses. Was I some pathetic widow who couldn’t care for herself? Did he pity me?
With a growl, I stalked over to the barn and did some quick chores, feeding the animals and letting Bliss, Wolfy, and Jumper out into the main run where they could free-range.
The black chicken—which I’d name Honey because Darlene was right, she was sweet as honey—kept following me everywhere and nuzzling her head on my leg like a dog looking for pets. I stroked her back for a good two minutes, trying to quell my anger at my neighbor, but it was no use. I needed to say my piece with him or I’d never be able to sleep tonight.
Leaving the animals in the large open pen, I peered across my backyard to the pale-yellow house on the hill. It had to be his. The others were too far. It was a good five-minute walk—trespassing, really, but I didn’t want to drive up there. That felt serious and weird. Besides, he was trespassing on my property every morning when he dropped off the wood. After pulling the new Bible verse from my pocket, I smoothed it out and started my walk.
I would simply hand it back to him nicely and tell him I wanted neither his wood-chopping servicesnorthe Bible quotes. I would be kind and full of grace and even-keeled.
When I got to the front of his house, I saw that he was loading bales of hay into his truck. Good. Easy peasy.
A dog barked to alert him that I was there, and he turned and tipped his hat to me. Walking out from behind his truck, he stepped over to me.
“Need more animal feed consults?” he asked with a grin, and that dimple popped in his cheek.
All of my anger at God and the world manifested itself right then, and I couldn’t stop it once it reached the surface. Upon taking three heated steps forward, I slammed the piece of paper onto his chest, holding it with one finger. “I never asked you for this. How dare you assume I want it.” My voice trembled, tears filling my eyes, and I had embarrassed myself again.
What was I doing? This wasn’t me. It was like watching a train wreck, and I couldn’t stop it. I never treated people like this, especially not strangers who were just trying to do nice things.
Concern pulled at his features. He slipped his glove off, gently laying his hand over mine, and my heart skipped a beat.
I hadn’t been touched by a man since James died.
