Page 65 of A Secret Heart
Only ten more posts to set to finish the extra fence project Drew had asked for. With a twist, he spun the auger until enough dirt built up on top to dump it near the hole, then started the process over again.
Clang.
He wanted the effort that was tiring out his body to tire out his brain, but it wasn’t working. Drew’s promise to give Ed more time away from the ranch duties hadn’t come to fruition. Ed was letting Mrs. Wilson down. He’d promised to bring in a chair for her to look at.
Ed tossed the dirt to the side again, then dropped the auger back in the hole.
Clang.
How did a man keep the promises he made when they were dependent on others keeping theirs? Something Drew hadn’t done, even if his reasons were legitimate. Sweat dribbled down his back. He didn’t look forward to the next drive to town. It meant a discussion with Mrs. Wilson that he didn’t want to have.
At the thought of town, Rebekah’s face invaded his thoughts. Was she safe? Was she eating? Were nightmares plaguing her again?
The remembrance of her tears made him want to howl. His body ached, but his soul ached worse.
Clang.
I have nothing left to say to you.
Clang.
The desolation in Rebekah’s eyes as she’d spoken haunted him. Always would. Even as he shoveled out another spot to start the auger. He pressed the shovel below the weeds with his boot, stopping to wipe the sweat off his face with the back of his arm. His mind might never stop going back to Rebekah.
A distant shout interrupted his musings.
“Dinner’s ready. You comin’?” David didn’t even bother to come the whole way. He stood at the edge of the fencerow, hands cupped around his mouth as he hollered.
Ed lifted a hand to wave him off. He didn’t want to face his family. Not after all their hopeful teasing.
He would have kept working if it weren’t for his grumbling stomach. He slipped into the house through the side door to the kitchen. In the shadows of the corner, he bent over the washbasin. He splashed the water over his face and neck, then reached for the soap. As he did, a happy birthday chorus filled the house. They were singing without him?
Ed shifted from the shadows to peek into the dining room as he scrubbed with the soap. Isaac sat stone still. Tillie’s and Jo’s faces were shining. David was leaning to whisper something to Nick.
Ed ducked back into the corner, replacing the soap to rinse his hands off. Hearty laughter filtered in from the dining table as they finished the song. If Rebekah had been here, she would’ve insisted they wait.
“Uncle Ed.” Tillie’s voice came from the doorway of the kitchen. When had she stepped this way? “You missed the song. Hurry or you’ll miss the cake.”
She rushed forward, gripping his hand before he’d finished drying it. With a tug from Tillie, he gave in to following her.
“Happy birthday.” He paused long enough to grumble out the greeting to his brother.
Isaac’s gaze cut away.
The table quieted. Kaitlyn wore a sort of pitying smile as she exchanged a glance with Drew. Nick raised a brow as he finished a sip from his glass, as if studying him. But only Isaac’s concentrated stare unnerved him.
Ed stopped at his place, then halted when there wasn’t any silverware.
“I’ll get you a fork.” Kaitlyn pushed up from the table.
“Don’t bother. I know where it’s at.” He huffed to the kitchen, pulling out a drawer from the kitchen safe a little too hastily. Silverware jangled as he did.
As Ed picked up a fork from the drawer, his eye caught a strawberry cake. Kaitlyn must have baked it for Isaac’s birthday. Figured that the night they had cake, it’d be strawberry. If he ate it, he’d break out in hives. But Kaitlyn didn’t know. She’d only been part of the family for a few months.
He reached for the cookie jar, intending to grab himself a bit of dessert. He’d tuck it into a napkin, pull it out as the others ate the cake. Where did Kaitlyn store the napkins?
He jerked open a drawer, but instead of the napkins, he found the bundle of letters he’d stashed there a couple weeks ago. He ran his hands through his hair, remembering how he’d hidden all the letters from the other women who’d answered Isaac’s ad there after Rebekah had come to the ranch looking for Isaac. With a jerk, he pulled open the lid to the kindling box and shoved the bundle to the bottom, right where they belonged.
Another burst of laughter echoed from the other room, bringing with it memories of Rebekah at the table with them the other night. The brush of her shoulder against his, the sparkle in her eyes.
