“Well hello, Miss Josie!” Don Yates stepped stiffly out of the pickup, approaching me with a slightly bow-legged gait. He’d been tall once but had become stooped and shrunken in his later years. He’d been a bull-rider in his younger days, and he’d been beaten up and put back together a time or two. Nettie said he’d broken every bone in his hands by the time his career was over. His fingers were as big around as sausages, his palms thick and muscular. Combine that with his built up forearms, and he looked a little like Popeye - all arms, no butt, and bowed legs.
“Hello, Mr. Yates.” I brushed my hair back from my face and wiped my hands on the skirt of my now dirty pink dress. “How was the cattle drive?”
Samuel was behind him and without a word he knelt beside me in the flower bed and started pulling weeds.
“It was long, Miss Josie! Woo Wee! I’m gonna go in and have mother make me a cup of coffee. If I don’t keep walkin’ I might fall right over. I’m way too old for cattle drivin’ anymore. You want me to send some lemonade out for the two ‘a ya, or somethin’?”
“Not for me, thanks.” I glanced at Samuel in question.
“Go on in, Pop. I’ll just help Josie finish up.”
A few minutes later the screen door slammed behind Don Yates, and Samuel and I worked in silence. I figured it would be easier to talk if my hands were busy, so I took a deep breath and jumped right in.
“I’m proud of you, Samuel.” I pulled weeds faster, my hands keeping pace with my galloping pulse.
Samuel looked up at me in surprise. I met his black gaze and quickly looked down to make sure I didn’t start yanking out marigolds with nervous zeal.
“There was some talk today at the shop.” I smiled sheepishly. “Well, there’s always talk at the shop. But today I actually found it to be of interest to me.”
Samuel had stopped pulling weeds, his head tilted to the side, regarding me quietly.
I looked back down, anxiously trying to find a weed within arm distance. “I heard you’re going to law school.” I paused, the pride I felt in him swelling in my heart, just like it had earlier. I looked up at him, swallowing to keep my emotions in check. “I can’t tell you how I - I felt when I heard. I just wanted to cheer out loud…and.....jump for joy all at once. I’m just so....so ......well, I’m just so proud of what you’ve accomplished.” I kept my eyes on his, and he seemed to be considering my words.
“Thank you, Josie. You have no idea with that means to me.” His eyes remained on mine for a moment, and then he resumed pulling weeds until the last stubborn trespasser was removed from the flower beds.
“And Samuel…thank you for the letters….I haven’t had a chance to read them all, but I will.” I struggled to express myself honestly without getting too personal, but gave up when I realized I couldn’t. “It almost made me feel like I was there with you. Most of all, it made me feel like maybe I wasn’t alone all those nights I cried for you and missed you.” My voice was choked, but I remained composed. I made a move to rise from the flower bed, but Samuel’s hand shot out and curved around my bare arm, just above my elbow, detaining me.
“I’m sorry, Josie.” Samuel’s voice was husky and low. “I’m sorry for what I said that night. For making you feel like I was disappointed in you. There’s nothing wrong with who you are and what you do.” He reached up and ran the back of his fingers lightly along the side of my face. “I just hate to see you suffering. I handled it all wrong. Will you let me make it up to you? Will you let me do something for you?” His voice was almost pleading.
I wanted to close my eyes and press my face into the palm of his hand. His touch was feather light, but his eyes were heavy on mine. I nodded my consent, realizing that I didn’t really care what the something was, just as long as I could be in his company a little while longer. He stood and reached down for me, pulling me to my feet.
“I’ve got a days worth of sweat and horse ground into me, and I need to shower. I’ll come by in about 30 minutes if that’s okay?”
I nodded again and turned to walk away.
“Josie?” His voice stopped me. “Is your dad home?”
My heart lurched a little at the implied intimacy of his question.
I shook my head this time and found my voice. It came out smooth and easy, for which I was grateful. “He’s on shutdowns for one more night.”
“I’ll be by.” He turned and walked into the house. I tried hard not to run, but ended up sprinting down the middle of the street like a silly kid.
I was waiting for Samuel on the front porch swing when he came walking down the road half an hour later. I had slipped into the tub and washed the dirt from the flower beds off of my arms and legs. I’d traded my soiled pink summer dress for a skirt and a blue fitted t-shirt that I happened to know was the exact color of my eyes. The skirt was white eyelet, and it was comfortable and pretty. I didn’t put any shoes on my feet. My calves and feet were brown from the recent summer days, and the lack of shoes made my preference for skirts a little less formal. I rarely wore pants and only wore shorts when I was running. I liked the feel of pretty, feminine clothes, and had stopped caring whether or not anyone thought I was old-fashioned. I hadn’t had time to wash my hair, so I pinned it up, fixed my makeup, and put a little bit of lavender on my wrists. I felt silly waiting for him - but I waited all the same.