Page 17 of The Gift of Seeds
The woman walkingup his pathway to knock on his door put Dale into a dilemma. Should he retreat from behind the tree that he’d kept scooting around as Miss Smith approached, or should he continue to hide?
But as he studied the dog she carried, he found his feet taking him around the periphery of the tree, stepping onto the porch from the side, and moving over to stand by her. Bestirred by sympathy for the thin brown-and-black creature, Dale found it far easier to look into the dog’s brown eyes instead of the woman’s.
With the pounding of his pulse in his ears, Dale could barely hear her ask if he or any of the neighbors knew the dog. He swallowed and took a breath. “I’m not familiar with this one. I can tell you that none of the neighbors have a dog like this. Looks like it’s?—
“She. The dog’s ashe.”
“From the looks ofher, she’s been on her own a while, poor thing.” Still avoiding the woman’s gaze, Dale reached out and rubbed the dog’s head, the contact making his throat ease so he could get more words out. “Good thing you found her. With winter coming, she’d have perished from cold and hunger or provided food for a starving cougar or other creatures.”
“Oh, I couldn’t keep her.” Even as she spoke the words, Miss Smith clutched the dog to her chest and smiled lovingly down at her.
Dale couldn’t help chuckling, finding that as long as the woman wasn’t looking at him, he could talk. “I think it’s too late for that, ma’am. I do believe she’s already yours.”
She let out a sharp breath and briefly met his eyes, before lowering hers. “Why, yes. I do think you’re right. Sorry to disturb you, Mr. Marsden. I must be off to the mercantile because I haven’t any meat in the house.” Carrying her prize, the woman scurried off down the walkway.
“Wait!” he called.
She turned, her eyebrows raising in inquiry.
“I have some leftover stew you can have.”
Her eyes widened, and a tremulous smile crossed her face. “Oh…oh, that would be lovely.”
Something warm swirled in his midsection. He hurried inside and into his kitchen, where earlier he’d set out the stew to heat for his supper. Then he took a Mason jar from the cupboard and, with a spoon fished out meat, potatoes, carrots, along with a few peas. Then he slid in a sturdy bone. He left the gravy and onions in the pot.
After screwing the lid on the jar, he strode back outside. “Beef stew.” He handed her the jar. “Not highly spiced. I’m a salt and only-a-pinch-of-pepper kind of man. The potatoes and carrots won’t hurt her. But the onions will. Best rinse off the meat and vegetables and just give her those. I added a large bone for her to chew on later.”
“Thank you for your kindness.” With a luminous smile, Miss Smith gave the dog a little bounce. “And this one will surely feel thankful once she gets your stew in her stomach.” She turned and hastened off. But contrary to her earlier heavy steps and slumped shoulders, this time, obvious happiness gave a lift to her stride.
For a moment, Dale watched her go, thinking about his family. He couldn’t ever remember one of those womenthanking him, even after his numerous attempts to try and please them. Haranguing and mocking his efforts, yes. Punishment, certainly. What he did was never good enough. At some point, he stopped trying. And then he fled to freedom.
But not freedom from fear.
Despite a cooling breeze, that odd feeling of warmth swirled from his stomach and around his chest. Dale lingered in the doorway, watching his new neighbor hurry home. To his surprise, their interaction had felt…pleasant. And giving her the stew eased some of his guilt for his lack of neighborliness.
He shut the door, took a deep breath that he hadn’t realized he was holding, and thought about the softness in Miss Smith’s eyes when she looked at the dog. Somehow, she seemed a little less intimidating.
Perhaps, living next to a woman won’t be as bad as I thought.
CHAPTER 6
Hester carried the dog into the house, setting her on the floor before depositing the unexpected gift from Mr. Marsden on the table. “I hope you’re trained to do your business outdoors,” she said to the skinny mite. “No going in the house allowed.”
The dog shook her tail and seemed to grin, which Hester took as a yes.
She pursed her lips, wondering how long it had been since the dog’s last meal. “I shouldn’t feed you too much at first. How about this? A little food. A bath. Then a little more food. Then I’ll attack any knots in your coat with a comb and scissors.”
The tail wagged so hard, the end hit the table leg.
Hester winced.
The dog looked behind as if curious but didn’t seem in pain.
“Silly girl.” Hester ran a hand down the whippy tail, checking. “You’re going to have to learn the placement of the furniture.”
As Hester tied on her apron, she couldn’t help smiling at her companion, who watched her every move with curious eyes.
A full tea kettle of water already sat on the stove. She opened the door of the firebox and poked the banked coals of wood from breakfast, before adding a few more sticks.
