Page 69 of Always to Remember
“I’ve hit my hand enough times to know it can smart. You’re lucky he didn’t break something.”
“I think it hurt Robert’s pride more than it hurt me.”
He grimaced. “If he’s like most in his family, I reckon yesterday was hard on him. They’re used to doing for themselves.”
Meg wanted to point out that yesterday had probably been hard on Clay as well, or hadn’t he noticed?
He set his plate on the quilt, and she watched his gaze flick over the desserts. She wished she knew which was his favorite so she could just cut him a piece and slap it on his plate.
“Can I have a piece of your cobbler next?” Josh asked. “It’s the best thing I ever ate in my life.”
“Certainly,” she said as she spooned out a generous helping.
“You ever gonna get married again?” Josh asked.
“It’s none of your business,” Clay said.
“How come?” Josh asked.
“Who do you think I should marry?” she asked, intending to aggravate Clay, but instead regretting the words the moment they slipped past her lips. She knew who the twins admired most, knew they’d think she held the same admiration for him.
Josh scrunched up his face. “Me and Joe will have to set our minds to thinkin’ on that. We’ll let you know when we figure it out.”
Clay picked up his plate and walked to the river. He knelt at the bank, and Meg saw his hand glide over the plate as he dipped it in the water. He carried the plate back to the quilt and set it down. “I appreciate the meal. You boys, be sure and clean up when you’re done.”
Meg watched him walk away. All this food, and he’d eaten one chicken leg. The man was impossible to understand.
“Don’t pay him no never mind,” Joe said. “We was talkin’ about him gettin’ married before you got here. Reckon it bothered him to be talkin’ about it again.”
“Who’s he going to marry?” she asked.
“No one.”
Meg set her plate down. “Eat as much as you want while I’m gone.” She rose to her feet and walked away from the picnic area.
She hoped Clay had walked in a straight line and not wandered off and gotten lost. She had no earthly idea how to follow a trail. She thought the twins could probably help her find him, but she was in the mood for some of Mama Warner’s low talking, and she didn’t think the twins could talk in a low voice if she gagged them.
She saw Clay hunkered down in a small clearing, as still as any statue he’d ever sculpted. Quietly, slowly, she walked past the trees until she obtained a clearer view of him. He was leaning over slightly, his elbow resting on his thigh, his hand poised near the ground.
She saw a bushy tail shoot up through the tall grass, then a squirrel was sitting on its haunches and sniffing. It scampered toward Clay, stopped, studied its surroundings, then scampered again. It came to a quick halt, lifting its gaze to the soft brown eyes of the man, then dropping its gaze to the pecan nestled within his palm.
The squirrel snatched the pecan and darted away. A slow contented smile eased across Clay’s face before he reached into the pocket of his shirt and withdrew another pecan. He slipped the pecan up his hand until it was nestled between his thumb and forefinger, his eyes never leaving the area into which the squirrel had disappeared.
“Want to give it a try?” he asked. He twisted slightly and gazed at her. He tossed the pecan into the air and caught it without taking his eyes off her.
Meg strolled into the clearing, knelt in the tall grass, and held out her hand, palm up. “I’m not sure he’ll come to me.”
Clay turned his palm so the pecan rolled out of his hand into hers. “Just pretend you’re a statue and be quiet. He’ll come.”
Leaning over, Meg rested her elbow on her thigh just as Clay had. It occurred to her it might be easier to feed the squirrel than it was to feed Clay.
“Did Kirk tell you ‘Greensleeves’ was my favorite melody?” she asked quietly. “He might have mentioned it.”
She peered at him. He stared ahead as though he could will the squirrel to return and take the pecan from her palm. “Do you remember everything he told you about me?”
“I imagine I forgot a thing or two.”
“I remember very little of what he told me about you. Yet you probably know which of those cakes is my favorite.”
