Free The Happiest Season by Rosemarie Naramore Page B

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second time and then stood back to assess her work.  She followed by stripping
the kitchen of knick-knacks and wiping them down, before scrubbing all the
counters and tabletops.  She ended with a thorough mopping of the floor.
    Finally, she stood back to assess her work.  When her eyes
lit on the wall opposite the kitchen window, she decided not to take any
chances.  She began wiping down the entire wall.  She was nearly done when the
doorbell rang.
    She hurried to answer it.  Rickey was blessedly sleeping in
late, and she was grateful for the quiet time to complete her tasks.  She hoped
the doorbell hadn’t awakened him.
    She tossed open the door.  John stood on the stoop, his
mouth curved into a smile.  “Hi,” he said.  “How are you?”
    “Oh, uh, fine,” she told him, swiping an arm across her
brow.  “I’ve been cleaning up after the camel, er ... I mean, donkey.”
    He gave her a commiserating smile.  “Yeah, I don’t blame
you.”  He shuffled awkwardly.  “Do you … need any help?”
    “Oh, I’m almost done,” she told him, forcing a smile.  She
too felt awkward, certain she looked unkempt from doing housework.  “Was there
something…?”  She raised her shoulders in question.
    “Uh, yeah.  Have you…?”  He blew out a breath.  “Have you
had a chance to take a look at your … backyard?”
    “No…  I’ve been cleaning.”  She narrowed her eyes.  “What’d
the donkey do to my yard?  I mean, I know it was kicking a bit but…”
    He winced and to her surprise, strode past her and into the
house.  She closed the door behind him and followed.  She found him in the
backyard, assessing the damage left by the donkey.
    She gasped at the sight of the torn-up sod.  There was so
much of it.
    “I had no idea!” she cried.  “How could one donkey do so
much damage?”  She shook her head and smoothed a hand through her hair.  The
entire lawn, formerly manicured, was a muddy patch.  A narrow pathway across
the lawn, which had been lined with decorative pavers, was now indiscernible
from the rest of the lawn, and the pavers were strewn about. 
    Maggie shook her head, unable to look at it any longer.  She
turned and walked into the house.
    John followed soon after, and found her on her hands and
knees, scrubbing the kitchen floor with a vengeance.  She’d already mopped, but
needed to exert some energy, to tamp down her anger. 
    “It looks pretty good,” he said softly.  “The floor, I
mean.  The lawn…”  He gave a sigh.  “Not so much.”
    Maggie glanced up and met his gaze.  He didn’t miss the single
tear that ran down her right cheek. 
    “Oh, Maggie, I’m sorry,” he groaned, as he crossed the
distance between them and gently took her arm.  He helped her to stand, and
then, to her surprise, pulled her into a hug.  “It’s going to be all right,” he
soothed.  “I’ll call the animals’ owner, and then the pastor at the church, if
need be.  We’ll get this settled.  It’s going to be all right.”
    Her first impulse was to pull away from him.  She hadn’t
been this physically close to a man since Shane.  She told herself she didn’t
want another man’s arms around her, but…  It felt so … good.  That simply
didn’t compute.  Only Shane’s arms around her felt right.  She felt traitorous,
as if she were betraying her beloved husband.  A sob escaped her lips.
    John had no way of knowing she was grappling with her
conscience, and pulled her closer.  She felt his warmth, the beating of his
heart against her ear, the strength of his arms around her… 
    With a sigh, she surrendered to him, letting him hold her
and likewise, hold her up.  If only for a few brief moments, she was going to
relinquish the stalwart control that had enabled her to cope during the months
and now years, since Shane’s passing.
    Finally, finally, she pulled away from John and forced a
tremulous smile.  “I’m sorry, but…  Thank you