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I finished my shopping, loaded the bags into the truck, then drove back to the farmhouse. I grabbed as many bags from the truck as I could and carried them into the house. I was putting the refrigerated items away when Luke appeared at my door, bags in hand.
“I was heading out for a run and saw these in the back. Thought I would carry them in for you.” I had no idea why, but I felt myself prickle at the fact that he always appeared and always helped.
“I could have gotten them.” I looked at his hands holding the bags.
“I know,” he said with a smile and set them down on the table then turned to leave.
“Thanks.” I said as I opened the fridge to place the eggs in.
“Mrs. Rich down the road has fresh eggs for sale and they taste so much better than the ones bought at the store. I'll grab you some next time I see her.”
Gah! Really? Why was he always so helpful? “That's okay.” I placed the carton on the shelf and grabbed the jug o
f milk from the bag and turned again.
“And Mr. Beck has a few cows that he milks. If you happen to want some fresh milk, I can point you in that direction.”
“Are you always this helpful?” I said, not even thinking about my tone or how it came out. My hands were on my hips when I turned to him.
He raised his hands in the air and backed away. “I was just trying to be a good neighbor. Sorry if I offended you.” He turned and left, letting the screen door slam behind him. I stood and watched him as he walked the mile-long driveway. He shook his head just as he passed the trucks, and then he started running. I lost sight of him over the roll in the land.
I pulled in a deep breath and finished putting the groceries away. I wanted to apologize, but at the same time, I didn't. He always seemed to be inserting himself into my part of this little bubble we lived in like I needed all this help. I shook my head and glanced back out at the drive he jogged away on. Maybe he was genuinely considerate and thoughtful, but I doubted it. In my experience, when men were that nice to you, they wanted something, and I’d dealt with enough of that type of kindness in my life. I didn't need or want any more of it.
I grabbed my laptop and went to sit on the porch to work on proofing my grant proposal and report before sending in a final copy. It took me nearly an hour, and just as I was on the last page, Luke walked up the porch steps and stopped briefly in front of the chair next to me.
“Your mail,” he stated flatly, placing something in the rocking chair, then kept walking. I heard the slam of his screen door echo down the porch.
Chapter Seven
Luke
The woman was absolutely infuriating. All I was trying to be was a good neighbor. I just wanted her to know that I was available to help her get settled into the new area if I could and maybe tell her about the local things I knew about. According to Ryan, she was a tree hugger, so I assumed that meant she also like locally sourced produce. Milk and eggs were fairly easy to come by right now, and the farmers market would be opening in the next few weeks. I only wanted to be friendly. After all, I have to live next door to her for the foreseeable future. Why wouldn’t I be?
I grabbed the mail after my run and found a letter for her, so I carried it to the house. I wasn't expecting her to be sitting on the porch, so I just sat the letter down and walked away.
I spent the next few hours working on some partially done small projects that I needed to completed, and then I watched a few videos of guys I would be competing against in the small room at the back of my shop that Ryan had dubbed “Luke’s Cage.” He read too many comics growing up.
By the time I was done, I checked the time and realized people would be arriving soon for the cookout Ryan and I had planned a few weeks before. Well, truth is, Ryan had planned it. I didn’t have much say in the matter.
As I walked to my back door, I found my plate sitting there, cleaned as she had promised. I picked it up as I walked in the house. Ryan was already in the kitchen stocking the fridge with his favorite adult beverage.
“Hey man,” he said as I walked in.
“Hey,” I replied.
“Well, that was unenthusiastic. We need to turn that frown upside down!” he said in a chipper tone.
“I’m good. Just been a long day.”
“You need a beer, my friend.” He reached in the cooler next to him and pulled out a bottle, handing it to me.
“Thanks,” I replied, popping the top.
He went back to arranging things in the fridge. “Oh, I invited Emmy over for the cookout,” his voice echoed.
“She won’t come,” I stated coldly.
Ryan popped his head out of the fridge and shot me a curious look. “Why do you say that?” he asked.
