Page 7 of Spring Showers

“Um, I don’t have a fancy, over-priced piece of paper to back up this claim, but I’m stubborn and focused, and I don’t like leaving a task undone. That’s something, right?”

“That’s a lot,” America said.

“Not to sound rude, but it looks like you’ve already planned so much for the week. Why didn’t you just handle this all by yourself?” Thandie asked, though she wished she had asked her question with a bit more tact.

“I’m a full-time writer, and honestly, I thought I could find the time and energy to take on helping Leo this week. But the truth is, a couple weeks ago, I realized that I couldn’t do the job the way it needs to be done. Leo needed help, and he needed more focus than I could give him. It was my pride stopping me from asking for help earlier. Now I know better.”

Thandie nodded in agreement, though a pang of guilt twisted in her. Pride was the reason she had been on the run for seven months. Pride had stopped her from leaning on her friends and family when she had reallyneededsomeone to lean on. Now, pride was pushing her down a path of endless random jobs and half-acquaintances.

“Well, I’m glad to be here for now. I’m grateful to you and Leo for giving me the chance,” Thandie said. “You two seem really great together.”

“He’s pretty lucky to have me.” America giggled. “All kidding aside, I’m happy you’re taking this job on. And honestly, anything you can do to keep this week on track will be better than nothing. You’ll be just fine. Now that we have all our pleasantries out of the way, how about I show you to your cabin?”

“I get my own cabin?” Thandie said.

“Of course. You’re the employee of the month, didn’t you hear?”

“I’m your only employee.”

“Never mind the details. We’re just glad you’re here.”

CHAPTER4

Although small towns were not foreign to Thandie, a breathtaking panoramic view was. Home was where white dirt roads cut through the landscape like arrows straight to the heartland, and sturdy corn stalks, topped with golden plumage, stood in tight rows like soldiers on watch. Here, the roads snaked around endless hills, and through narrow valleys. Handcrafted bridges made long before her hometown in Iowa was ever thought of, spanned streams and creeks as old as time itself. She wondered if she would ever tire of the gorgeous view from The Foundry’s barn.

Following slightly behind America, Thandie walked down the gravel drive from the barn with her luggage in tow and a twenty-pound binder in the crook of her arm. The drive tapered into a single lane pathway that looked to have been recently resurfaced with white and gray crushed stone. Along the edge of the path, bright green grass had recently been cut back and smelled of that moist, citrusy warmth of warmer days.

Beside the path, a split rail fence ran down the gentle slope and separated the road from a dry streambed. Up ahead, and about 300 yards from the barn, a cabin’s white metal roofline came into view from behind a grouping of trees and shined in the afternoon sun.

Beyond the cabin, a large flat plain stretched out as far as she could see. Tufts of colorful wildflowers and tall grasses saturated the expanse, and, at the bottom of the hill, the path ended at what looked like an old dock or a broken bridge.

“Pretty spectacular, isn’t it?” America stopped and asked as she herself took in the view.

“It’s pretty breathtaking. The guests will fall in love,” Thandie said as she breathed in the aromatic air. “Is it always like this?”

“I’m not sure,” America said. “We had a really wet and warm winter. And you know what they say?”

Thandie looked at her blankly. “No rain, no flowers?”

America giggled. “Spring is a lovely reminder of how beautiful change can be.”

Thandie considered America’s words. “Yeah,” she said as she counted the colorful species.

“I hope this never gets old. This is my first spring here and I’m loving it so far.”

Thandie nodded and smiled. “I can see why. All we get in Iowa this time of year is dirt plumes from all the plowing.” She pointed to the bottom of the hill. “What is that down there?”

“Oh, that. This used to be a lake. I thought you knew.”

Thandie shook her head, and they resumed walking down the path.

“There was a dam downstream for nearly a hundred years, but it gave way during a big storm a few years back. You know how it goes. Town builds a dam. People fall in love with the town. The dam breaks. People break up with the town when the lake dries up . . . You know?”

“Drying up, just like my love life,” Thandie said under her breath.

America did a double take, having obviously heard the remark, and stifled a giggle. “Sounds like you have a story of your own there.”

“Maybe so, but the one about the dam sounds way more interesting. Is that why you and Mr. Thorpe are starting this retreat? To bring people back to the town?”

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