Free Woodlands by Robin Jones Gunn Page A

great-uncle’s last weekend, he said I should meet you because I’d find you ‘delightful.’ That was his word. Delightful. He said, ‘For twenty years she’s been bringing me flowers on May Day.’ With all those clues, I thought for sure this delightful woman he adored must be at least sixty, maybe seventy years old. Especially when he said your name was ‘Leah.’ ”
    Leah felt herself drawing inward.
    “Hey, I’m trying to compliment you here. I’m saying you weren’t an old lady like I thought you would be. Why did you pull back?”
    Leah waved her hand for him to disregard her actions. “It was nothing.”
    “You’re not a very good liar, you know. Obviously it was something. What did I say?”
    Leah was beginning to learn that if this man wanted to drag the truth out of her, he could be rather convincing. She saw little point in trying to cover up what she felt.
    “It wasn’t anything you said. I mean, it was, but you didn’t say anything wrong. It’s just my name. I’ve never liked my name. And when you said that Leah sounded like the name of someone who was sixty, well, that’s what I was reacting to.”
    Seth sat back and didn’t say anything for a moment. He sipped his coffee and seemed to be considering Leah. She felt as if he were looking at her the way a painter sizes up his subject before attempting to tackle the task of transposing one reality into another form.
    “The name Leah comes from the Bible, doesn’t it?” Seth asked.
    “Yes,” Leah said sharply.
    “So does my name.”
    “But Seth was a Bible hero, wasn’t he?” Leah said.
    “I suppose. He was Adam and Eve’s third son. The blessing of God was on Seth and not on Cain. And of course, Abel was murdered. That left Seth to carry on the godly heritage. What do you know about the Leah in the Bible?”
    “Enough,” Leah said flatly.
    “Tell me. I don’t remember.”
    “Her father tricked Jacob into marrying her first, instead of Rachel, the one Jacob really loved.”
    “Is that all?”
    “That’s all I know about her.” Leah didn’t want to quote the verse that prompted her name, but it was fresh in her mind. The pain from it must have shown on her face because Seth reached over and took her hand. The gesture surprised her yet she didn’t pull away as she had when he had taken her hand to check for doggy teeth marks.
    The tender look on his tanned face reflected sincerity. “If you don’t like the name Leah, then how about if I just call you George?”
    Something inside Leah broke, and she burst into tears.

Chapter Nine

    A nd then what happened?” Jessica asked Leah. The two of them were in the far corner of Jessica’s huge backyard the next morning, tucking Easter eggs into the tufts of grass.
    “I bawled like a baby for two minutes straight, and then I somehow turned off the tears. He said he should get going, and I apologized for falling apart. Of course he told me not to worry about it. Then he left, and I sat up half the night worrying about it.”
    Leah bent down, leaving a blue-and-green-striped egg next to a clump of wild daffodils. “I’m telling you, I was scared. I can’t remember ever crying like that. And never in front of someone I hardly knew, all because he held my hand and called me, ‘George.’ Do you think I need counseling, Jess?”
    Jessica left the last of her eggs and plucked several fresh, yellow daffodils. She linked her arm through Leah’s, and the two women headed toward the house across the newly mowed, spring grass.
    “I think the same thing I told you at church last night,” Jessica said after a pause. “God has scooped you up and plopped you into a pocket of grace. You can’t exactly control what happens.”
    “That’s for sure,” Leah said, gazing at the pastel streamers and balloons that adorned the back deck of Kyle and Jessica’s Victorian home. Tall, canvas umbrellas were opened above the two patio tables. Curls of smoke rose from the covered barbecue where