Cottonwood Whispers Read Free

when he caught sight of me, he dropped his tool and stepped in front of the table with one quick movement.
    “Jessilyn!” he said nervously. “What’re you doin’ sneakin’ up on me like that?”
    “I ain’t sneakin’. I’m just walkin’.”
    “Well, I can’t really talk right now, you hear? I got things to finish up.”
    He was standing there strangely, his cheeks all red, and I leaned over slightly trying to see what he was obviously trying to keep me from seeing. He kept moving in different directions, first to the right and then to the left, whichever way was necessary to keep me from catching a glance at his project.
    I was far too curious to leave without finding out what hewas hiding, so I ambled a little closer to him. “You got somethin’ to hide, Luke Talley?” I asked with a sly smile.
    “I don’t hide things.”
    “You are too hidin’ somethin’,” I insisted.
    “Now, Jessie, just stay back. You’re dreamin’ things up.”
    “Why should I stay back if I’m just dreamin’ things?”
    I walked a little farther toward him, but he made a sudden move and stumbled backward over something. When he landed on his backside, I caught sight of what he’d hidden from me, and I forgot all about asking him if he was all right. Rushing to his side, I said nothing of his unfortunate position and just stared at the beautiful jewelry box that sat on that rickety old wooden table in Luke’s backyard.
    It was incomplete—one of the doors hung half-attached and the wood was bare and unfinished—but it was quaint and charming nonetheless.
    “Did you do this?” I asked him in awe.
    “Doggone it!” he said, slapping his leg with his hat to dislodge the dust on his pants. “Why don’t you listen?”
    “I asked you a question. Did you make this?”
    He ran a hand through his sandy hair, tugged his hat down onto his head in a frustrated sort of way, and sighed. “Yes, ma’am, I did make it. And now if you ain’t up and ruined the whole thing.”
    “Ruined it?” I argued, still fascinated that he had done such fine craftsmanship. I had seen Luke make many a chair and table, but never something so fine as that jewelry box.“I ain’t even touched it, and you’re sayin’ I ruined it? I didn’t break a thing.”
    “I didn’t say you broke it, Jessilyn,” he mumbled. “Just never you mind and let me get to work.”
    “Well, why can’t I watch? I ain’t never seen you make somethin’ so fine before. I’d like to see how you do it.”
    “I’m almost done, anyhow. Ain’t nothin’ to watch but me tightenin’ some screws and paintin’ some wood.”
    Seeing as he seemed to be in a fine and nasty mood, I said nothing more. Instead, I moved back a few yards and settled into the crook of a tree to watch from a distance.
    Thinking I’d left, Luke fiddled with the jewelry box door. “Sneakin’ around like that,” he muttered under his breath, bending over to pick up the screwdriver that had rolled under the worktable. “That girl’s always comin’ round when she shouldn’t. I swear it!”
    I bristled at his comments. “If you don’t want me comin’ round no more, then you just say so.”
    My exclamation caught him by surprise, and he stood too quickly, slamming his head on the table. “Dagnabbit!” he yelled, rubbing his head. “Would you let a body know you’re around before you scare ’em half to death?”
    “What’re you yappin’ about? I was just talkin’ to you no more’n a minute ago.”
    “Well, I thought you’d gone.”
    “Well, maybe I will go.”
    The two of us squared off like sparring partners, our eyesnarrowed at each other. Then he just shook his head and said, “Girls!”
    Now, I’d known Luke for four glorious years, and the way I figured it, he could say just about anything to me and get away with it, even if I did fuss at him for show. But he couldn’t have done much worse that day than to call me a girl. I’d loved Luke since the day I’d met him,