“As long as the good Lord’s willing. Don’t forget, George gave me tomorrow off, so I plan on casting a line bright and early.”
“I haven’t forgotten,” I said, offering him my best smile. “But thanks for reminding me.”
As I walked through the front door of my house, Mother was waiting, hands on her hips. “Sara Anne Coffee, what have I told you about coming home late?”
“But I’m not late, Mama. I came as soon as you hollered. Besides,” I said as I placed the fishing gear by the door, “I wasn’t getting into any trouble. Jack and I were just fishing down at the creek.”
“Again? How many days in a row does this make? Four? Five?”
Actually, it was six, but I decided it was best not to correct her.
“Something like that,” I replied, my eyes downcast under her scrutiny. “But I got all my chores done, and I helped Mr. Sullivan clean out that old barn this afternoon, just like I said I would.” I received a sigh in return, Mother’s stern façade softening.
“Fine. As long as your chores were all done.” She returned to cooking, pushing the bacon to one side of the pan while she cracked a few eggs into the hot grease. “But don’t let me catch you shirking your duties. You hear? Not just so you can go hanging around with that Bennett boy all day. I’m still not crazy about you and him in the woods all alone for hours on end anyway. It ain’t like it was when you were kids. You’re eighteen now, and there’s some things a young lady ought to be mindful of.”
“Mother, Jack is just a friend. And I’m not some silly girl who’s going to get herself into trouble. Besides that, Jack Bennett is the nicest boy in all of Sims Chapel. Probably the whole county. Everyone says so. Even Clara, and you know how good a judge of character she is.”
“Well…” Her expression softened further, her stern gaze settling into something more benevolent. “Why don’t we continue this conversation another time? Right now, you need to get in that bathroom and get washed up. I’ll have supper on the table directly.”
“Yes ma'am.”
As I retreated to the bathroom, I wondered what my mother saw in Jack that the rest of the town seemed blind to. She had expressed her doubts about him before, but as I scrubbed my hands under the warm water, washing away the dirt and grime, I couldn’t let go of my own strong feelings. As far as I was concerned, Jack Bennett hung the moon.
The next morning, I was up and at it bright and early, sweeping floors, dusting shelves, and scrubbing surfaces until they gleamed in the sunlight. I moved with determination, myslender frame stretching and bending, tirelessly working until my inside chores were done.
Afterward, I strolled around the backyard garden dotted with marigolds and tulips. I touched the flowers gently as if they were made of glass, whispering words of encouragement to the budding beauties. The flowers seemed to respond to my touch, swaying along to the sound of my voice. My eyes widened in delight when I spotted a new sprout, pushing its way through the fertile soil. Kneeling down next to it, I brushed away some of the surrounding dirt, giving it more room to grow. “There you go, little one. Breathe, stretch, and reach for the sky.”
I went back inside, wiping my dirt-streaked hands on my apron. With Mother at work, I longed for the woods, for the serene whispers of the wind through the trees and the comforting crunch of leaves underfoot. I loved the way the forest's dappled sunlight filtered through the towering pines, casting intricate patterns like lacework on the forest floor below. But more than that, I longed for time with Jack.
Ever since we first met when we were kids, there was an inexplicable bond between us, a friendship that had deepened over time. Jack, with his ruffled sandy-brown hair and ocean-blue eyes, had an allure that was hard to resist. He was a gentle soul, full of kindness and compassion, and he was the only person I knew who shared my love for the woods. And today, I felt that pull stronger than ever.
With my chores complete, I used the leftover bacon and biscuits from the night before and prepared breakfast for me and Jack. It was half past eight, which meant he would be at the creek by now. As I packed the food, my heart fluttered in anticipation, and a soft smile lingered on my lips.
“I thought I might find you here,” I called as I spotted Jack crouched near the edge of the creek.
He looked up at the sound of my voice and smiled. “You’re early. No chores today?”
“Already finished them,” I replied, then sat down beside him on the rock. “I brought us something to eat, if you’re hungry. It isn’t much—just some bacon and biscuits.”
“Thanks. I can always count on you.”
We spent the next few minutes talking about everything and nothing in particular, just enjoying each other’s company.
“Did you make it home in time last night?” Jack asked as he finished the last of his biscuit.
“Barely. But Mama still almost had a fit.”
“She’s not still giving you trouble about us fishing together, is she?”
“You know how she is, Jack. She just worries.”
He faced me, his eyes full of understanding. “I get it. My mama’s the same way. Always fretting over something or another.”
We sat for a while, listening to the sounds of nature around us—the chirping birds overhead, the rustling leaves under the soft breeze, and the steady flow of water against the rocks.
“I’ve been thinking,” Jack said. “Remember how you told me you’d be willing to help me and George around the dock? I mentioned it to him, and he thinks it’s a fine idea.”
“Really?”