He didn’t think anyone would recognize his. It was an old truck that they used on the farm. Typically it didn’t go off the farm, because it wasn’t inspected. It was just an old farm truck.
But he supposed anyone who had been on the tree farm might have an idea that someone in the McBride family could possibly be the Secret Saint. That’s probably the only conclusion they would come to. He decided not to worry about it, because the odds that they would recognize it were highly unlikely.
They didn’t say anything else but separated when they were almost to the street, the other person having parked up the street, while he parked down.
They met again, both of them carrying an armful of wood.
“It’s a nice night for a Secret Saint to be out,” he said.
“That’s what I was thinking,” came that ironic reply. “And that would be…you or me?”
There was humor in the words again that struck Roland. Was it familiar? He wasn’t sure.
He was pretty sure it was a woman though. There was a husky note there that he found…attractive? He wasn’t sure.
He couldn’t be attracted to someone he couldn’t see, right?
Still, as they walked side by side through the side yard, questions kept popping into his head.
“I’ve heard a couple of other people might need help. Maybe we should compare notes and team up.” There. It was a bit of relief toactually say it. After all, there was a part of him that wanted to be competitive, that was a little bit annoyed that this person was finding the same people that he was and doing kind things for them. But…why not? He would much rather work together than work against someone.
He thought about high school and the competition between Nelly and him.
Nelly had always taken it a lot more seriously than he had, and most of the time, he only tried to beat her just to see how frustrated and angry she got when he won. It was funny to watch, but he didn’t really enjoy winning. He enjoyed much more the feeling of camaraderie when two people worked together. Maybe that was because he came from such a big family, where his siblings and he were always doing things together, and he loved to be included, especially since he was the youngest and often was too young for the things that they were doing. He hated feeling left out, so working together was something that he always strove for.
One wouldn’t think it to remember the heated competition between Nelly and him all through high school. And even before that. It probably started about the time of that stupid valentine. He wished he would never have said anything. It had made her mad in such a way that she’d never forgotten it. He was pretty sure that was why she always felt like she needed to one-up him.
He didn’t hate her, but…their competition had been kind of fun in a way. Still, he’d rather work together.
“I don’t know,” the person said, stacking wood alongside him.
They walked back and forth, the work seeming to be a lot easier and go faster now that he was with someone. He liked it.
They chatted softly each time they were past the Johnsons’ house about different people that they knew who needed help, and he really could see the benefits of them working together.
“This is my last load. Do you still have more?” he asked after they had made what felt like a hundred trips back and forth between their pickups and the woodshed.
“I just have a little bit more,” the person said.
“Do you mind if I give you a hand?”
They went and stacked their current load together until they were finished. The person put the last piece of wood on the huge stack that had appeared in the Johnsons’ yard overnight and put their hands on their hips—at least it looked that way from the way their cloak moved and jutted out at the sides.
“How do I know I can trust you?”
“You could rat me out the same as I could do to you.”
“You might recognize my vehicle.”
“You might recognize mine,” he said, although he really wasn’t concerned about that.
“I don’t know. I really enjoy doing this anonymously, and I don’t want anyone to find out who I am.”
“I’m exactly the same. There’s just a certain satisfaction in doing things that people don’t know that you’re doing. And…you just do it for the fun of helping someone, not for the accolades that come along with it. You know?”
“Exactly. There’s just such a deep sense of satisfaction, and I don’t want to lose that.”
“Me either. Tell you what, I know you don’t have any reason to think that I would keep my word, but let’s shake on it. I promise that I will not try to find out your identity, and if by accident I do, it will go no further than me.”
