Page 62 of Always to Remember
She cried out as a sharp pain shot through her hand and raced up her arm. She saw Clay straighten and step through the opening in the frame. She closed her eyes, willing him not to come to her. If anyone knew how to handle a thumb that had been hit with a hammer, it would be Clay, but she couldn’t explain to the people surrounding her why she wanted Clay’s help instead of theirs. She couldn’t even explain it to herself.
She opened her eyes and sighed with relief. Clay had returned to his side of the barn. She could see his knee jutting beyond the board he’d nailed in place. She knew he was squatting down, his back against the board, his head undoubtedly bowed as he fought not coming to help her. How had she come to know him so well in such a short time?
“Meg, I’m so sorry,” Robert stammered. “I thought I was watching.”
Cradling her hand, Meg forced a smile she didn’t feel. “It’s all right. It doesn’t hurt that badly.”
“Let’s find Dr. Martin and make sure I didn’t break anything.” He slipped his hand beneath her elbow and helped her rise to her feet.
“I’m sure nothing’s broken,” she said, although she wasn’t certain at all.
“Anyone seen Dr. Martin?” Robert asked as they neared the house.
“Last I saw him, he was on the back porch,” Helen said. Robert guided Meg around the corner of the house. Prudence was stomping the earth while Dr. Martin stared at her in bewilderment.
“Why would I want something he made?” she cried. She pressed her finger against Dr. Martin’s chest. “I just wanted to die of embarrassment when I saw you talking to that coward.”
“I talked to a lot of men today, Pru. I don’t recall talking to any coward.”
“That Clayton Holland. You went right over to his wagon—”
“If you see a coward when you look at that young man, then you stop by my office tomorrow, and I’ll fit you with a new pair of spectacles. I wouldn’t weather the hatred of the people in this town even if they promised to make me a rich man, and they’re giving him a hell of a lot less than that.”
She pushed her spectacles up the bridge of her nose and thrust up her chin. “You needn’t bother to call on me any longer. I won’t be answering your knock.”
She strutted away like an enraged hen. Dr. Martin picked up a mangled twig. “I guess there’s no point in asking her to marry me now.”
“Give her a couple of days,” Meg said. “Everyone seems to have short tempers today.”
“It sure ain’t like the old days. When we gathered, we had a good time and were glad to see one another.” He smiled lightheartedly and slipped the twig into his coat pocket. “Were you looking for me?”
“Yeah, Doc. I slammed a hammer against Meg’s hand,” Robert said.
“Now, why did you do that?” Dr. Martin asked as he gently took Meg’s hand and examined it.
“I was stupid enough to think I could help build the bam if I had someone hold the nails for me.”
“That doesn’t sound so stupid to me, but I’ll confess I can think of things I’d rather do with a pretty girl than build a barn.” He winked at Meg. “You’re gonna have a little bit of bruising, but it shouldn’t stop you from dancing tonight.”
As twilight neared. Clay heard the hammers fall one by one into silence. He didn’t need to look to know that he was being left to put the final boards into place. He’d had the unrealistic hope that maybe he’d finish first. He’d certainly had the incentive. Finish up his side and be gone, but he wouldn’t leave before he finished what he’d started. Even if it took him past midnight.
He set the board against the frame. As he had most of the afternoon, he turned slightly, pressed his backside against the board, reached down, and tapped the first nail into position. Straightening, he moved the board a fraction of an inch, making certain it was level with the other boards. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lucian striding toward him.
“At the pace you’re working, you’ll be here till midnight,” Lucian said just before he slammed his hammer against the nail Clay had used to set the board into place.
Both men heard the wood split and watched as a tiny fissure raced up the center of the board. Raising a brow, Clay looked at his brother. “I’ll be here till dawn if you help me.
Lucian wrapped his hand around the head of his hammer. “They made bets on whether or not you’d stay the whole day.”
“How much did you lose?”
Lucian dropped his gaze. “Why didn’t you leave?”
“I suppose that’s what a brave man would have done.”
Lucian snapped his head back. Clay captured his gaze and said, “But a coward might have stayed, hoping if he built one wall, he might knock another one down.”
“Lucian?” a soft feminine voice asked.
