The Caregiver - By Shelley Shepard Gray Page 0,48

is.” Looking at her sideways, he murmured, “Lucy, forgive me if I’m being too personal, but when I came upon you, you looked mighty upset. As if you had far more on your mind than mere berries.” He looked her way, his eyes calmly searching. “Are you all right?”

“Of course.” But even she knew she’d blurted that too quickly.

“No. I don’t think so.” Looking at her more carefully, he said, “Though the pain I first glimpsed in your eyes has faded, you still look near tears.”

She didn’t dare tell him a lie, she was too shaken up inside to focus on one for long. “Actually, I was upset, but I’m better now. I was just spending a bit too much time worrying about things I cannot fix.”

“Like Mattie?”

His question embarrassed her. Yes, she was worried about Mattie’s health of course. But that wasn’t what had occupied her mind. “Like Mattie. And worrying about some things from my past.”

They walked for a bit while Calvin seemed to consider that. Finally, he looked her way again. “It’s been my experience that the past is easier if you come to terms with it and move on.”

“It’s not that easy,” she snapped, then instantly regretted her words.

But instead of getting mad, Calvin merely laughed. “You’re right about that. But moving on is a useful goal, I think.”

Charmed by his words as much as his laughter, Lucy nodded.

As a robin flew by, and they stood and watched her land in her nest, a new peace settled between them. Feeling as comforting as the breeze on their cheeks. After another moment, Calvin looked her over from head to toe. “This worry that seems to have gripped you . . . it isn’t about Mattie, is it?”

“No. I was just thinking about some memories that I usually try hard to ignore. Usually I only dream about my past; but today, for some reason, memories decided to spring forward while I’m awake.” Recalling how defeated she’d felt before Calvin had appeared, she added, “With a vengeance.”

They were in front of the blackberry bushes. The air surrounding them was full of the berries’ sweet, fruit-ripe scent—and it sweetened her mood as well. She felt so different with Calvin.

Almost as if she wasn’t as damaged as she imagined she was.

Without a word, he took the tin pail from her hand. Then, with great care, he pulled a berry from the branch closest and just as easily dropped the succulent-looking fruit into the pail. “One,” he said with a smile.

Next to him, she plucked another berry and deposited it in the pail as well. “Two,” she said with a smile of her own.

“Sometimes when we don’t know what to do about the past, we have to concentrate on the present,” he said quietly. “I’ve found that to be enough.”

“I, too, have found that to be enough,” she said, pulling off another pair of berries and tossing them into the pail.

Over and over, they repeated the motions. Together, as the sun fell on their shoulders and the warm fruit stained their fingers, they worked on the task. Every so often a bee would buzz by, angry at their intrusion to its private world.

Calvin would carefully wave it away with a brush of his hand and then smile at her as they both sighed in relief that yet again, they hadn’t gotten stung.

The pail got heavy enough for Calvin to set it on the ground. Eager to fill it to the brim, Lucy knelt in front of the bushes, reaching into the thorny branches for more fruit.

And then got stung. “Ow!” she yelped, jerking her hand back in surprise.

With two movements, he clasped her injured hand in between his own. “Lucy?”

“The bees finally got the best of me.” She tried to laugh off the sting, but couldn’t quite succeed.

Gently, he turned her hand in his, rubbed his thumbs over the bottom of her palm, tentatively searching for her injury. Lucy turned her hand to show him the red mark on the end of her thumb. “It is nothing.”

“It is something.” Carefully, he inspected her tiny hurt. “It doesn’t look like the stinger is there.”

She pressed her thumb against his hand, trying to see how much pressure she could place on it. “I don’t think it’s there, either.” When he still looked at her thumb with a frown, she smiled. “Calvin, don’t look so worried. It’s just a sting, jah? And it’s my own fault. The bee didn’t care for me invading his home.”

“I