Page 75 of Always to Remember
She laced her fingers together. “Good morning.”
“I like the way you’re wearing your hair now,” he said.
Meg touched the chignon. “This is less trouble than trying to imprison it in a knot at the back.”
“Looks prettier, too.” He stepped back. “It’s been a couple of days since I did any cutting. Hope I remember how.”
“I would think it’s not something you’d easily forget.”
Tying his bandanna over his face, he walked to his table. Meg picked the bandanna off the chair. “Will we need to wear these when you’re cutting the details?”
“No,” he said, his breath causing his bandanna to billow away from his mouth.
She remembered the feel of that warm breath last night on her flesh. Sitting, she wrapped the bandanna around her face. She was as anxious now to watch Clay work unmasked as she was to see Kirk’s features take shape in the stone.
Clay began to work, and clouds of dust materialized. Before she went home each evening, she stopped along the river to wash off the stone powder coating her skin. She supposed Clay felt even grimier than she did at the end of the day. Even now, his hair was sprinkled with the fine particles.
Her thoughts drifted to Robert. He would make an exceptional husband, but the image didn’t appeal to her as much as it had two days ago. His unspoken promise lay heavy on her heart.
Clay stepped down from the stool and walked to the table. He no longer felt the need to step outside and dunk his head in a bucket of water when the scent of honeysuckle became too strong.
He’d taken it personally when she didn’t want Tom to see her here, but in the past few days, he’d learned he’d rather have her here than not. “I’m stopping for awhile.”
“Oh, yes, of course.” She rose from the chair, walked to the stone, and placed her hand on the granite.
“I carved on the other side,” he said.
“Of course.” She moved to the other side and touched the shaved stone.
“Is something bothering you today?” he asked.
She sighed. “Did you tell the twins I hate you?”
“No, but they tend to notice a lot more than they should, and sometimes they sound like eighty-year-old men thinking about life.”
She smiled weakly. “They think I should marry Robert.”
“He’s a good man.”
“He fought at Shiloh.”
“Then I’d say he was close to perfect.”
She pressed her forehead against the stone. “I loved Kirk so much. I can’t imagine someone taking his place.”
“And no one ever will, but he was the kind of man who’d step aside and make room for someone else. He’d want you to find happiness.”
“Sometimes, it seems impossible. Watching the bats was the closest I’ve come to being happy in years. The twins look at the world the way I used to, the way I always thought I would.”
A dull ache throbbed through his chest for all she’d lost. Brave Meg. She’d watched the man she loved ride away, never to return to her side. He picked up a small chisel and hammer. “Want to chip off a piece of the stone?”
She pulled her head back with such force he was surprised she didn’t snap her neck. “What?”
He held out the tools. “Thought you might like to cut on the rock a little bit.”
“I could ruin it. Then all your efforts would be for nothing.”
“I don’t think you’ll ruin it. You can chip a small piece off this corner that I haven’t touched yet.”
