Free NoRegretsColeNC by Christina Cole Page B

it
seemed natural, and for some reason hearing it come out of Willie’s mouth
didn’t bother her in the least.
    Maybe
it was the sincerity she heard behind the words. She understood exactly what
Willie meant. People could be quick to judge, quick to assume the worst about
somebody.
    “That’s
not fair. You’ve done nothing wrong, Willie.” A bit of encouragement might spur
him on. “Don’t let others bring your down. Hold your head high. In time, people
will come around. I’m sure of it. People will realize how unkind they’ve been
toward you.”
      “Maybe you’re right. Maybe in time…” He
shrugged. “But what am I supposed to do meanwhile?” He ran his hands through
his mussed hair.
    An
unruly lock fell forward. Hattie checked herself, wanting to reach out and
smooth it back from his broad forehead. She wasn’t a nurse-in-training now. She
wasn’t at the hospital caring for a patient. Only a young
woman hoping to reassure a friend. Putting her hands behind her back,
she clasped them tightly.
    “I
suppose a good man would simply do whatever he must, don’t you think?”
    “A
good man?” Willie squinted at her. “Are you saying you think I’m a good man? Or that I could be a good man?”
    “I’m
not sure why my opinion should matter. What’s important is what you think.”
    Secretly,
she hoped that her opinion might matter somewhat, but she wouldn’t dare admit
that aloud.
    “That’s
probably the sort of man you’d respect, I suppose.”
    “Yes, I
suppose I would.”
    Willie
seemed to chew on that thought for a moment. Hattie remained silent. The only
sounds were the soft neighs of horses, the mewling of a kitten, and the
rhythmic sounds of steel tines scraping over the ground as Josiah pitched fresh
hay into the stalls.
    A new
light had come into his eyes, Hattie noticed, when Willie took a step toward
her.
    Warmth
shimmied down her spine.
    “Could
you truly respect me, Miss Richards, knowing what an obnoxious fellow I’ve been
all these years? Knowing, too,” he added, “how far I’ve fallen?”
    “Everybody
falls down from time to time. Are you willing to pick yourself up? If so, of course, I’ll respect you.”
    Willie
squared his shoulders. He glanced toward the long-limbed man in the dirty
overalls. “Hey, Josiah? Where’s that shovel?”
    Hattie
smiled. Although she kept quiet, her heart swelled inside her chest.
     
    * * *
*
     
    Working
for Josiah wasn’t nearly as bad as Willie expected. Several times during the
first week, Hattie came strolling by—checking up on him, of course—and once she
even stopped to chat on the pretext that Dr. Kellerman wanted to know how
Willie’s leg was holding up.
    “Coming
along fine,” he reported, then immediately wished he could take back the words.
If his leg pained him, he could use that as a convenient excuse for visiting
the hospital. Maybe a sweet nurse with wistful gray eyes would give him a bit
of care.
    A man
could dream, right?
    Now, as
the second week drew to a close, Willie had grown accustomed to the routine.
    As he
scraped the shovel over the floor, scooping up excrement, his nose wrinkled.
Not that the smell of manure was altogether unpleasant. Actually, it had a rich
earthiness about it that made him think of fields of beans, potatoes, and
grains—staple crops in the fertile soil around Sunset. It made him think, too,
of the virtue of hard work, the benefits gained by exerting a bit of effort in
return for a steady wage.
    All the
same, he hated shoveling horseshit. He’d been born for greater things.
    “Morning,
Willie.”
    He
glanced up and grunted.
    Caleb
Bryant tipped his hat and offered a wry smile. “Working hard?”
    Detecting
a slight note of sarcasm in the sheriff’s voice, Willie tightened his grip on
the shovel. “Yeah, I am. Might look like a dirty job to most folks, but at
least it’s an honest living. I’m not ashamed of what I’m doing, if that’s what
you’re thinking.” The words coming out