Page 16 of The Gift of Seeds
She continued walking, glancing over at the woods across the street, and, once again, remembering Jimmy’s promise to take her berry picking.
A brown face peeked from behind a tree in the woods across the street. If Hester hadn’t been looking in that direction, she would have missed the animal. With a gasp and an uptick of her heartbeat, she skittered back a few steps, narrowing her eyes to see better.Surely, a bear wouldn’t be so small.
The creature shifted into view.A dog!
She wasn’t familiar with dogs except for Hiram and Lovie’s shepherd, who served as a watch dog and companion of the children. “Well, hello, there,” she called in a friendly, high-pitched voice.
Crouching, she snapped her fingers. “Come here, sweetie.”Boy or girl? She couldn’t tell from this distance.
The medium-sized, brown-and-black dog had upright ears and wary brown eyes. It crept out a few feet, staying low to the ground in fear.
“It’s all right. I won’t hurt you.” Hester wondered if she should return to her house for some food to coax the dog over. But her lack of meat was one reason for the trip to the mercantile. Hester doubted salami would be good for the dog’s digestion.
She gently slapped the side of her legs. “Come here, sweetie.”
Slowly, after several minutes of coaxing, the animal approached with low, slow steps, although the whippy tail started to wag. The dog was painfully thin, ribs showing, the shaggy brown coat matted and filthy.
Hester sat on a nearby rock to be closer to the ground and held out a hand. The dog rose and approached, tail wagging so hard its hind end shook back and forth.
Hester leaned closer, allowing the dog to sniff her. “Hello, there. Are you lost?”
Seemingly reassured, the dog gave her hand a tongue swipe.
Chuckling, she rubbed a hand over the head.
This dog can’t possibly have belonged to Jimmy.Her brother had lamented that he couldn’t have a pet because he spent much of the year living at the logging camp.
She glanced around, as if to spy the dog’s owner walking nearby. But the street was deserted.
Her neighbors on each side were both reclusive bachelors. The wood cabin on the other side belonged to a friend of Jimmy’s—a fellow logger. He, too, worked to establish his home for a family, only he planned to bring home a bride, not a sister.
No sense asking him. He’ll be at the logging camp.
Several large empty lots lay on each side of her neighbors. No other houses in sight.
She’d have to nerve herself up to approach the other house, the foursquare clapboard owned by Dale Marsden. She knew the man was an avid gardener, although she’d never caught sight of him working in the yard.
The dog lifted a paw, as if wanting to shake.
Charmed, she took the paw, feeling the roughness of the pads under her fingers. “Let’s get you something to eat and drink and maybe a bath. But first, let’s check next door to see if Mr. Marsden knows about your owners.”
She picked up the dog, the bony body lighter than expected, and snuck a peek underneath.A girl.
Carrying the animal, who truly smelled awful, Hester pushed open the slightly canted gate with her hip and walked up the brick path. She kept her head turned away to inhale the spicy scent of the marigolds instead of the stinking pup.
She stepped up to the porch. A lone rocker sat next to a side table.It must be heavenly to sit here and rock, perhaps sipping a cup of tea, and gaze out on the front garden, enjoying the beauty.She sighed, knowing it would be several years of labor before her yard looked liked this.And without James to do the heavy digging….Despairing grief squeezed her again.
Perhaps sensing her mood, the dog wiggled in her arms and licked her chin, making her smile. “You sure are a sweet one, even if you do stink to high heaven.”
She braced herself up to cross to the square vestibule, shift the dog in her arms enough to knock on the door, and wait. Her heartbeat sounded louder than her knock.
From the side yard, a thin, stoop-shouldered man slowly crossed his porch and moved over to her, stopping about six feet away.
The shyness in his eyes, his best feature, really, big and blue and darkly lashed, made her rapid heartbeat relax somewhat—a relief, really, or else she might not be able to speak at all. Still, her words stammered out. “Mr….Mr. Marsden, I’m Hester Smith. Jimmy’s sister, your neighbor.”
The man swallowed and nodded.
Hester hefted the dog. “Are you by any chance missing this one? Or are any of the neighbors?” She anxiously awaited his response.
