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Clara takes a few steps toward me. “I was wondering, if you had time that is, if you’d be willing to help me on a project of mine.”
“Project?” I motion to the barn around me. “Out here?” I don’t mean to sound dubious, but in the month that I’ve been at the Sea Star, it’s the first time I’ve seen her set foot in the barn.
“Not out here.” She half-turns toward the double doors, then swings back. “The old cabins. I thought I might spruce them up a bit. I don’t have much female company out here, so I was hoping you might be able to spare an hour to help me.”
“Yes, of course. Let me just,” I feel scattered all of the sudden, never expecting her to want me for anything, “finish up. I know the way. Rhett showed me on the way to the cove. I can meet you out there in twenty minutes?”
“That sounds lovely.” Clara gives a small wave before she makes the graceful exit I expect from her.
I kick myself for saying that bit about Rhett. It made it sound like we were doing some kind of romantic rendezvous. I hope I didn’t trigger some kind of alarm system in his mother’s mind. I can’t imagine her wanting her son tangled up with a girl like me.
Pressure to finish helps me move faster. After less than fifteen minutes, I arrive at the cabins. Four older style log cabins sit close together. But as I draw closer, it’s not hard to see that they aren’t as rundown as I thought. In fact, only one of the four seems beyond repair.
“Ms. Clara?” I’m not sure which one she’s picked for her project. “Ms. Clara, I’m early.”
A cloud of dust erupts from the doorway of the first house. Clara steps out, sneezing and shaking the rug in her hands. “Please, Clara is fine. Now, grab an end of this thing and help me beat some of the dust out of it, would you?”
My only other impression of Rhett’s mother before last night, was the first time I met her. She didn’t seem cold, heaven knows I know cold, but she also didn’t seem eager to have me around. Something has changed in her, and I doubt it was because I had a migraine. But I’m not in a place to ask, not yet. Instead, I work by her side as we pull the furniture and linens from the cabin.
She’s not one for a lot of chatting, and I appreciate it. Small talk feels like a waste of air most of the time. I’m fine for conversation, real topics that matter, but talking to fill the air, I can do without it. Every now and then she gives me a task and I sink into the work. To be honest, it’s remarkably satisfying. Though abandoned and dirty, the cabin isn’t in bad repair. It’s bigger than I thought too. Two bedrooms, a bathroom, a small kitchen and a couch near a working fireplace.
“Rhett said these were the first cabins that were built on the land. Is that right?”
Clara smiles at the wall like the memories are written in plain sight. “That’s right. Buddy’s grandfather built the other two. His father helped to build this one. Buddy grew up in that room over there with his younger brother.” She points to one of the small rooms. “His grandfather bought the land with every penny he had, but developing it, getting cattle, that took years of hard work.”
“And Buddy has kept it all going too. It’s quite a testament to the family legacy.”
She nods, thoughtful. “It looks like Everett will carry the tradition. He’s taken to the work so well.” It’s not hard to see the pride beaming in her eyes. “He’s told you his story, I imagine.”
“Yes, and Carl too.”
Her eyebrows bounce once to show her surprise. “So, you know about their struggle.”
“It’s too bad.” I don’t mean to be as honest as that, but it’s how I feel. “They’re similar in so many way, but it seems to drive them apart.”
Clara starts folding an heirloom quilt from the back of the couch. “Carl always tells me two people can’t live in the same body. He swears that’s what’s happened. And Everett, he’s always felt the strain of his younger brother not welcoming him.”
I spray cleaner on the window, scrubbing away the dirt and grime. Clara falls silent, but I don’t want to push her if she doesn’t want to talk about things.
“How long have you and Buddy been married?”
“Just over twenty-eight years.”
That stops me dead in my tracks. I find myself staring at her like she’s the eighth wonder of the world.
“What?” She touches her face. “Did I get something on me?”
“No,” I stutter for an answer, “I’ve never met someone married that long.”
“Well, there are some who have been married far longer, I assure you.”
“Still,” I resume my work, “congratulations.”
“It’s not all rainbows and unicorns, I promise, but if you choose someone you truly love and if you’re willing to work hard every single day, you have a chance at making something beautiful, even when life hands you the ugly stuff. He’s my partner in everything, and I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”
She leaves me alone for a little while, letting me chew on what she’s said. Dad and Charlene, I don’t know if that was love or convenience or what. They seemed to like each other okay, but I’ve never heard him talk about marriage the way Clara does. I’ve never really considered it for my future, but the idea of having a partner, someone I can count on no matter what, that doesn’t sound so bad.
“Do you ride, Clara?”
