Page 34 of Magnolia Summer

“No, you’ll get yourself all sweaty.”

Celia had to at least thank him. But the picture he made standing there, his hair damp on his forehead, his work shirt clinging to him, and his face ruddy and handsome, like David in the Bible . . . she wasn’t sure she could even speak.

The very idea.

Celia stepped forward until she was standing in the doorway. “Thank you for all the work you did for us this morning.”

Truett gave her a friendly nod. “My pleasure, Miss Celia.”

His eyes lingered on hers and the corners of his mouth quirked higher before he finally turned away. Her stomach fluttered as she gazed after him.

* * *

Later that morning,Celia stood by the stool at the back door, washing Tempie’s muddy foot.

Her little sister hadn’t wanted to be left behind when Harley crossed the creek to chase after a lizard. But as soon as her bare foot encountered mud, she started screaming. Celia heard her all the way from the kitchen.

“Tempie, sweetie, please don’t go near the stream again. It’s always muddy around there, and you hate mud. Besides, I don’t want you to get on a snake.”

“Truett said his dog got bit by a rattlesnake and died.” Tempie poked out her lip. “Poor puppy.”

And if one of those rattlesnakes bit you or Harley . . .Her breath caught in her throat. She didn’t want to scare the child, so she said, “Just please don’t go out of the yard. Wouldn’t you rather play with your dollies than go traipsing through the woods?”

Tempie’s eyes held a frown, her lip poking out even further. Celia steeled herself against the coming tantrum, but instead, Lizzie burst through the back door.

“Mrs. Beverly and Griff are coming up the lane!”

Celia dried Tempie’s feet with her apron. “There, all clean.”

Tempie ran off to greet their visitors.

Celia’s worry about Griff being unsafe was the only thing that kept her from being glad of the distraction. Visitors were about the only thing that broke the monotony of life in the country. She still daydreamed about the shop she wanted to own in Nashville, but somehow sewing didn’t hold the same charm it once had. She supposed it was because she was always so tired from taking care of Tempie and Harley, the gardening, cooking, cleaning . . .

Celia took off her apron as she went into the house and smoothed back the wisps of hair that had escaped from the tight bun on the back of her head. Her brown gingham dress wasn’t exactly the height of fashion, but she figured it hardly mattered out here. All she needed to fit in perfectly was a matching gingham bonnet.

She watched out the window as Lizzie greeted Mrs. Beverly on the porch, while Griff, who stood head and shoulders taller than his mother, lurked behind her on the steps. Celia shuddered, remembering Griff with the huge gray boulder over his head, preparing to throw it at his petite mother.

Mrs. Beverly’s smile lit up her entire face and changed her appearance so that she hardly looked like the same person who had cowered in fear before her son. Griff’s appearance was also greatly altered. His mouth hung open and he had the look of a shy little boy, which contrasted oddly with his manly size.

Mrs. Beverly hugged Lizzie with one arm, a basket hanging from her other arm. “Oh, you sweet little darlin’! Where’s that precious boy with the hurt leg? I brought him a peach pie and some blackberry jelly.”

Will hobbled into the room behind her and sat down on the couch, propping his leg up on a stool.

Lizzie came in the house, followed by Mrs. Beverly, Tempie, and Griff. Lizzie accepted the cloth-covered basket from Mrs. Beverly and a basket of strawberries from Griff and took them to the kitchen.

Mrs. Beverly bent to hug Tempie, who was clinging to her skirt. “Tempie! What have you been at, you sweet thing?” She straightened and, her arms open wide, came to hug Celia. “And here’s the older sister, as beautiful a young lady as we’ve ever seen around Bethel Springs. How are you, dear?”

Celia smiled. “I’m very well, thank you. Won’t you sit down? Can I get you a cup of tea or coffee?”

“Oh, no, dear, don’t trouble yourself.” She ignored the chairs and grasped Celia’s hand. “I want to apologize for not coming by sooner. I’m your neighbor and it was remiss of me not to welcome you.” She wrinkled her forehead. “You don’t know how sorry I am about your poor father, the dear man. And now your mother’s health . . . Well, if you need any blessed thing you just call on me. And I mean that.”

Mrs. Beverly’s eye caught Will lying on the horsehair couch. “Oh, Will. You precious thing. Just look at that leg.” She went to him and patted his cheek and peered into his face. “Your color is good. Any medicines you want, you just let me know and I’ll get them from Truett. I’ll make sure he checks on you regularly.”

Mrs. Beverly sank down on an upholstered chair. Griff, seeing his mother wasn’t going anywhere, turned with slumping shoulders and shuffled back out the front door. Through the window Celia watched him sit on the edge of the porch where Harley was playing with some wooden soldiers and horses. Harley gave Griff some of his men and horses and they started playing.

Tempie skipped to her dolls and tea set in a corner of the room and talked quietly to them, taking up the little chipped plates then setting them out again in front of her inanimate friends.

Lizzie came back in and sat on the other side of Celia.