AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Picnics are good.” Patrick opened the door for her, and the two of them stood for a moment on the porch. “There’s a good spot for huckleberry picking at the top of that hill.” He pointed to the east.
“So, we’re climbing a hill. All right.” Heather had wanted to try her hand at climbing, and she was excited they could try it that day. Of course, she hoped that her lungs wouldn’t explode as they tried to adjust to an even higher altitude.
Patrick took the baskets from her hands, and they walked along together. At the base of the hill, he looked at her. “Perfect place to picnic!”
She smiled and nodded. “Sounds wonderful.” She spread the blanket that she had in the bag out on the ground, and when he’d put down the baskets, she pulled out two plates, the potato salad which was held in two mason jars, and the twelve sandwiches she and Sally had packed.
Filling both plates, she handed him a fork. “Maybe tomorrow night, we’ll have huckleberry pie for dessert.”
“I’d like that a lot. Do you enjoy cooking?” he asked.
She nodded. “I love to cook.”
After the prayer, he said, “You’ve learned a lot about me in the past two days. Tell me something about you. Did you live with your parents back east?”
She thought for a moment about not telling him anything, but she decided it was best to be truthful. “My father passed away years ago, but I lived with my mother. She pretended to be ill to keep me as a prisoner doing all the chores while she laid in bed. After I confirmed with her doctor that she was truly not sick, I sent you a telegram the following day. I had no desire to remain there as her captive.”
He looked at her for a moment. “Do you feel like you did the right thing?”
“I know I did. She was just starting to tell me she only had a month or two left so that I’d read to her for several hours every day as well as doing all the chores. I know I must sound like a terrible daughter, but I decided to sneak out one morning before she woke. I did leave a note, but I didn’t tell her where I was going.” Heather looked down at her hands for a moment and then looked at his face, trying to see if he thought she was a bad person for the way she’d left Beckham.
“I see. I can’t be upset with you for it because it brought you here to me.”
“I would rather not tell your mother if you don’t mind.”
Patrick shook his head. “Oh, I wouldn’t tell anyone. It’s your story if you ever want to share it.”
After their meal, they climbed the hill, and she was out of breath and panting badly before they reached the top. “I’m not used to this altitude yet,” she explained as she got her breath back.
“I should have thought of that,” he said. “I’ve never really left our valley, though, so I haven’t experienced it. I’ve heard others talk about it.” He waited patiently as she got her breathing under control and then pointed. “Those are huckleberries. I always just sit down in the grass and pick them. It’s so much easier than constantly bending.”
“You have much further to bend than I do,” she said with a grin.
“That is very true.”
An hour later they’d each picked half a basket of the berries. “What do you think of huckleberry picking?” Patrick asked.
“It takes forever!” Heather said, shaking her head. “And I tried a couple. They’re very sour.”
“They are. Ma usually adds lots of sugar, or she mixes them with a less sour kind of berry when she makes pies.”
“I can see why.” Looking into her basket, she was shocked at how few she really had after an hour’s work. “I may not be doing a lot of huckleberry picking.”
He grinned. “Just wait until you taste your first huckleberry pie. They’re so good, they make you cry!”
Walking down the hill was easier than climbing it, though the hill was steep enough it made her nervous to head down it. Once they reached the bottom, he dumped all the berries into one basket.
She frowned at him. “Why’d you do that?”
“Because then we can put the empty basket into that bag of yours, and I can hold your hand as we walk toward the house.”
“Your mother will just assume we’re holding hands because we tried to make a baby while picking berries.”
Patrick sighed, reaching for her hand. “I’m sure she will. She needs to learn that she can think some things, but they shouldn’t always come flying out of her mouth like some sort of demented bird.”
Heather giggled. “Very true. She seems content to make baby clothes now. She’s going to hate me if I am barren!”
“Do you have any reason to believe you might be?” he asked. He looked at her, a bit worried, because he wanted children.
