Across The Field

Chapter 3

Authors Note: Ha. Welllll, its been eleven days since my last update! Here's my big explanation for my (and Marie, John and Margaret's!) absence!

Ten days ago, I went to upload this chapter. I went to my Wordpad, and everything was gone. All of chapter 3 and chapter 4. It made it all invisible and it wouldn't let me copy it, wouldn't let me do anything with it. That kind of killed my inspiration a bit (a lot) and I took a small break, tried rewriting it  few times...and alas, I failed. Miserably. I really liked this chapter and how it came out and set things up for chapter 4. Tonight, I began writing chapter 3 again, it was going better than my other attempts but I just wasn't a fan still. And I went to a website where I enter my text to see how many words I've written...and lo and behold, chapter 3 is still there from where I had pasted it before. I squealed, then came straight to here to post it. (: I have proof-read it very quickly, but my usual editor/proof-reader did *not* so apologies if this is terrible. Thank you all for sticking with me and my lovely characters. I hope you all enjoy this chapter! Don't forget to comment and review! Y'all make my day!

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She saw him a few times after their meeting at the store, but they hadn't spoken since then. She saw him working on his own piece of land often. She imagined that he was either too busy to talk, or was simply keeping his distance for obvious reasons, to stay away from the drama and troubles that always followed the type of people like her mother. She'd watched him start fixing that leaky roof, and begin repainting his porch. She had to admit, that old wooden deck was looking beautiful. He'd painted it white, making it look more and more like a classy home as opposed to an abandoned house. She wasn't angry with him for prying at the store, or staying away after. She understood completely.

She took some time out to observe him from a distance, across from the narrow dirt road. She enjoyed watching him work. She hadn't seem a man as dedicated to a job as he was since her father had grown ill. His shoulders flexed under his shirt, overalls hanging from his chest as he hammered something on the roof. He would've never struck her as a farming type, what with how he had been dressed at the store when she'd met him. Nice slacks, a button-down shirt and leather dress shoes. All things that would be ruined by the time his day was done at a farm. His hair was cut short, resembling a military cut. His straight back, and "take-charge" type attitude would all make sense for a military man. He obviously had a good work ethic. She saw him working every single day, from sunrise to sunset. She hardly ever saw him take a break. She imagined that the leaky roof would be fixed in no time with his dedication, as well as the rest of his house.

She was content with the silence, happy, even. Not that the work outside was ever all that quiet - the birds singing never seemed to quiet down, nor did the frogs' croak. If he could figure out that she was living in an abusive situation after just one, short meeting...how much would he figure out if they actually talked? Became friends? She couldn't risk letting anyone else into her life. She hadn't even responded to his waves or smiles from across the road when he'd see her outside. He was far too friendly, and far too handsome. His concerned stare had sent butterflies to her stomach. How long had she prayed for someone to look after her? But she couldn't take a risk of someone finding out, someone calling the authorities and sending her mother away. Even though she ached for companionship. Just entertaining the thought of a simple, friendly neighbor warmed her heart. She already had one nice set of good neighbors, though, the extra food on her counter proof that someone cared for her and her mother. But they didn't know their story, not completely. They didn't see her bruises. What would they think if they found out just how bad off mother was?

She broke out of her reverie, her basket of dried, dark clothes in her arm as she tried opening the door by herself. She'd wash the light colored articles later that evening when it cooled down. The sound of a hammer travelled to her house, letting her know that her neighbor was out yet again.