A SUMMER'S DAY
Isaac had disappeared with Judith. Taylor and Millie were over canoodling by the large tree. Zac was left alone to clean up and pack up their act. He didn't care. He was happy for the distraction, though he wasn't sure how much of a distraction he had, seeing as cleaning and packing did nothing but leave him alone with his own thoughts.
How could he have been so stupid? How could he have let his pride run her off like that? He'd barely just met her--hadn't even had the chance to really get to know her. He blew his only chance with this mystery girl and he wasn't sure his heart would recover from it. He'd never been this drawn to anyone before. Anyone at all. In his vaudeville days, he'd met many women. He'd dated many women, slept with many women, and even courted one or two of them. But none of them had ever stolen his heart before, nor had he ever been willing to surrender his so easily.
At the sound of the trailer door opening, Judith bounded down the metal steps and Isaac stepped out the door, buckling his pants. Zac curled his lip up in disgust and his stomach churned as he went back to his work. He admired Isaac in a lot of ways, but sometimes he could be a real dog. A real, classless dog. This was one of those moments. If Bessie ever agreed to go with Zac, he determined that they would not be that kind of couple. Zac respected her and he wanted her to respect him and he would never think to objectify her or take advantage of her in any way. He would never grossly display her the way Isaac displayed Judith or even the way Taylor displayed Millie. Zac didn't care what kinds of things those girls were into, it was no excuse for his brothers to be tasteless and disrespectful.
Caught off guard, he heard his name in a female voice and he turned around as Millie and Taylor approached him. "Hey," Millie said softly as her raven waves blew her hair off her shoulders in the welcome breeze. "Tay told me about what happened yesterday. Um, I know you didn't mean whatever you said. I know you're a good person. Bessie just--well, she just doesn't understand a lot of things. She doesn't get out much. And I think maybe she just got upset because she doesn't--"
"You're wrong," Zac said flatly, suddenly feeling defensive. "She does understand. She understands a lot more than people apparently give her credit for. She was right about everything she said about me. I blew it and I get it."
"Zac, the only reason she's not here today is because when I went by her house to pick her up, she wasn't home. I thought--I thought maybe she came here. My aunt told me that she came here yesterday and I thought maybe she would come back."
"Yeah, well, so did I."
"She really likes you," Millie offered. "I probably shouldn't be telling you that since it's really not my business to tell. But I know she does."
Zac's heart fluttered and he stood from the trunk he was packing and looked at Millie for a moment. Then reality came crashing down and he sighed, going back to his work. "Maybe she did. But she doesn't anymore."
Millie let out a breath as she fidgeted with her thumbs. "Well. Anyway, for what it's worth, she doesn't live far from the gypsy camp. They have a farm close to the river, just a few miles from you--"
"I know where the Harlows live," he snapped.
"Oh," she replied shortly. "Well, then. I guess that means you have it all figured out, then. Guess you don't need my help, huh? Never mind the fact that I brought her along especially for you because I knew you'd make a good match--"
"Oh, come off it, Millie," Zac finally said, fed up with her ramblings. "You brought that poor girl along for your own selfish reasons. So you wouldn't have to feel sorry for me. You don't have to feel sorry for me, I'm perfectly capable of picking up my own women. You didn't do me any favors and you didn't do her any, either!"
"Didn't do you any favors?" She repeated, her eyebrow raised. "I introduced you to each other, didn't I?"
And with that, she turned on her heel and walked away.
Zac placed his hands on his hips and stared after her in thought for a moment. Well, if he didn't have it all figured out before, he certainly did now.
*************
Several hours later, after the trailer had been parked and settled back at the gypsy camp in their usual spot next to their broken down Ford, Zac had put on a fresh, white shirt, slid on his good suspenders, and tied his hair up and hid it underneath his wool cap, per his usual. From there, he walked the three, scorching hot miles that it took to get from the gypsy camp to Judge Harlow's farm. Zac assumed that the Harlow farm was established there way before the gypsies moved in because he couldn't imagine someone of Judge Harlow's status wanting to settle somewhere that close to a band of gypsies.
At home, with his brothers and the gypsies, Zac could walk around nearly naked without anyone batting an eyelash. He had to admit, he did love the freedom. The summers were so hot that it was common for the men to walk around in t-shirts and shorts, some of them in even less. The women remained a little more modest, but not by much. Sometimes Zac liked to sit under the shade of one of the trees, shirtless and pants-less, with only his shorts between him and the grass, as he used his pocket knife to whittle away at pieces of tree bark. On days when the breeze was active, it was especially nice.
Zac longed to be shirtless under a tree right now. His fresh shirt stuck to his back as he approached the porch of Judge Harlow's farmhouse. Admittedly, there were no signs of life on the property, but he suspected the women might be shut up in the house, seeing as the judge's workday wasn't quite over yet. No matter. Even if it was her mother that answered the door, it didn't help his nerves one bit. His shirt still stuck to his back, the sweat still poured from underneath his hat, and he was still incredibly self-conscious. The only thing keeping him sane? Good old Bill Shakespeare resting in his back pocket.
He cleared his throat, wiped his brow, adjusted his collar and his hat, and then he knocked on the door. And he waited.
Silence.
He strained his ear for a moment to listen for movement inside the house, shamelessly appreciating the shade of the porch's ceiling, and then he knocked again, a little louder this time. And he waited.
Still silence.
After a moment more, he determined that there wasn't a single Harlow in the house. He knew he hadn't seen a car on the property, but he hadn't been aware of their automobile inventory, either, so he had no real way of knowing who was home and who wasn't, save for the silence on the other side of the front door. Discouraged and disappointed, he stepped off the porch and shoved his hands in his pockets as he set off down the road in the opposite direction.
His head hanging low, he walked in silence, his brain functioning at a mile a minute. Along the dirt road, he kicked rocks and he dodged tiny lizards and he kept his eye open for snakes. He learned the hard way to keep his eye open for snakes, even in places where you didn't expect them.
Hearing voices in the nearby distance just ahead of him, he looked up and he adjusted his hat, narrowing his eyes curiously at the sight. It was Bessie, walking home with a guy. A tall, skinny, red-headed guy with fair skin in blue trousers and a red, plaid, short-sleeved shirt. So that was it, then. Bessie wasn't home because she was courting another guy. Wasn't this a pretty picture?
She hadn't seen Zac yet, so he stopped and he watched her. He watched her laugh and giggle and talk animatedly with the guy and the guy took in every word that she said. The guy finally spoke and whatever he'd said had been something hilarious because Bessie threw her head back and held her belly, the beautiful ringing of her laugh carrying through the afternoon air. Zac felt himself let out an uncontrollable breath at the sound.
As she calmed herself, she finally looked ahead at where she was walking. Several yards away from him now, the pair stopped and Bessie's eyes widened upon sight of him. To look into her eyes, even from that distance, was a sight that nearly brought him to his knees. She made him weak. How did a person not know the things they did to other people?
Swallowing hard and taking a deep breath, Zac started casually toward them. As he walked, the redhead looked him over, sizing him up. So it was like this, then? He sincerely hoped that the guy wasn't looking for trouble because he'd certainly found it. Zac was easily twice his size and could likely take care of him with one swift left hook. As frail as he looked, he knew it wouldn't take much. Was this what Bessie liked? Was this her type?
As he approached them, Bessie's mouth hung open. The redhead continued to look him up and down. Zac ignored him. "Hey, Bessie," he said, attempting to be as casual as possible.
"Zac?" She said in disbelief. "Were you--were you at my house?"
"Uh, yeah. Yeah, I--nobody was home, so...so I was heading back..."
"What were you doing at my house?"
"Looking for you."
"Uh, look, Bess, I'm gonna get going," the redhead suddenly said, his tone surprisingly uncomfortable. "Get me on the horn later or something, okay?"
"Okay," Bessie nodded. "Thank you for walking with me today."
"Yeah, anytime."
Sizing Zac up one more time, he turned around to watch him walk away. The whole thing perturbed him. He didn't like it.
He turned around to look at Bessie, studying her face for a moment. "Who's the guy?" He asked, pointing behind him with his thumb.
"Joey Martin," she replied. "He's my friend."
"Your friend, huh? You have a lot of friends," he observed flatly.
"No, I don't," she said, shaking her head.
"Sure, you do. You got a lot of men in your life, don't you? Me, Taylor...that guy...who else is there?"
"You're being very unfair--"
"Am I? Is he the reason you rejected me?"
"I rejected you because you acted just like this."
"I saw him sizing me up, I think I have reason to be defensive--"
"He wasn't sizing you up--"
"Please, I can already tell he hates me. Did you tell him what kind of monster I am or something?"
"No, but I will," she challenged.
He stepped out of the way and extended his arm behind him. "Be my guest. But you have to be willing to walk away from me to do it."
He watched her take a step and then she stopped. She looked past him in the direction that the redhead had walked in, but she didn't take another step. Zac's heart leapt with joy. She didn't leave. She chose to stay. This had to mean something.
After a moment of silence, she looked into his eyes and then she whispered softly, "He doesn't like girls."
Zac wasn't sure he'd heard her correctly. He opened his mouth to speak and then he closed it again. Then he said, "Did you--did you say--?"
"Yes," she continued to whisper. "He doesn't...you know, like girls. He wasn't sizing you up, he was...he thinks you're nice to look at. But nobody knows, so it would be nice if you kept it to yourself."
Zac was speechless. And a little dumbfounded. And extremely guilty. His eyes darted around and he shoved his hands in his pockets. "Well, uh, this is awkward..."
"If you weren't such a hothead, it wouldn't be so awkward."
"You got a bit of a mouth on you, don't you?"
"I'm not normally this rude, but my mama told me to never let a man walk all over me. I'm certainly not going to let you do it."
Zac swallowed, forcing his comeback back down his throat. She was right. Since yesterday she'd been nothing but right in keeping his attitude in check. He wasn't understanding why he continued to have one with her. He didn't want to fight her. He only wanted to know her.
"Bessie, I think--I think maybe you and I have gotten off on the wrong foot..."
She shook her head in objection. "I don't think so. I thought our walk the other night was nice. I thought we started off rather well."
He was speechless for a moment as he briefly reminisced. "Uh, well...well, I guess if you want to be technical about it. Um, I just...I wanted to know if you wanted to go for a walk with me."
She stared at him in silence and he prepared himself. He knew he was taking a chance and he knew that this was it, once and for all. If she rejected him now, it was over. Forever.
"Okay," she replied quietly, much to his surprise. "I'll walk with you. Thank you for asking."
Zac had to keep from jumping with joy. Clearing his throat, he took a look around. "Um, okay, then. We can, uh, let's go this way."
She nodded as she allowed him to lead her off of the road and back toward the land that spread out around her house. To the far right of the house, just past one of the two barns, were the woods. There were paths in the woods and Zac knew them all. More importantly than that, there was shade in the woods. And solitude.
They walked in silence for a few minutes as they crossed the green grass. Zac was just happy to walk with her, he didn't need words. However, he'd come here for a reason and he supposed he should get it out.
Bessie beat him to the punch. "So how was your act today?"
"Terrible," he confessed. "I messed up everything. Ike and Tay were mad. Money wasn't good."
"I'm sorry," she said quietly.
"It's okay. It was my fault, I had a lot on my mind."
"Was it--was it because of yesterday? Because I've been thinking about it, too."
Zac let out a breath and wiped his hands on the back of his pants, his eyes widening at the discovery of his wand in the opposite pocket as his book. He must have forgotten it was there after the act and, grateful to have something to keep him occupied, he took it out and began twirling it around between his fingers. "Bessie, I--I wanted to apologize to you. For my behavior yesterday. I didn't intend to act the way I did and I was wrong for it. I only want to spend time with you, I don't want to hurt you."
"Thank you," she replied shyly. "I accept your apology. And--and I apologize, too. I shouldn't have said--"
"Don't apologize," he interrupted. "You did nothing wrong. Nothing at all."
"Well, I'm--I'm sorry for throwing the flowers in your face. I, um, I wish I'd kept them. After I left, I mean."
Zac smiled as he glanced at the ground. "I'll pick you more. As many as you want. I'll pick the entire field."
Bessie giggled and crinkled up her adorable nose. "I don't think that's necessary."
"Just to see you smile like that, I'd do it for sure."
He watched her smile fade a little and she blushed as she tucked her hair behind her ear. "I like when you smile, too," she replied quietly.
Zac felt like a million dollars as they stepped into the woods.
Thankful for the significant change in temperature that the shade of the trees provided, he began to feel a little more comfortable with himself and with his surroundings. He led her onto a small pathway that had been made by human and animal, alike, that he knew led to a clearing out by the river. He made sure to watch her step more than his own, so as to not allow her trip over any twigs or be surprised by any wildlife.
"I was wrong yesterday," she suddenly said, interrupting the silence.
Zac shoved his free hand in his pocket as he continued to twirl his wand in his fingers, peering at the wooded landscape ahead of them. "You made that pretty clear."
"No. I mean I was wrong about being wrong. I was wrong to say that I was wrong about you not having a kind heart. I thought about that all night long and I feel horrible. I was angry and I said some things that I didn't mean. And I'm sorry. I don't believe that at all. I believe you're a good person."
Zac was taken aback by her confession. Unable to figure out how to react, he swallowed and tried hard to choose his words carefully. "You don't even know me."
"I think believing someone is a good person has more to do with what you feel than what you know."
Finally, he turned his head to look at her and caught her looking back at him. Shyly, she turned away quickly, her cheeks turning pink once more. At this, she cleared her throat. "Anyway, it was also wrong of me to ask Taylor about your history. I--I was curious and sometimes I get impatient and...well, I should have waited and asked you instead. I was disrespectful of me. I didn't mean to disrespect you."
The more she spoke, the less Zac was able to say. He was dumbfounded. At a complete loss for words. She thought she'd disrespected him? Taylor had been right, she had every right to ask him a question and he'd had every right to answer. And she'd had every right to put Zac in his place after he'd been so rude. And, yet, she was managing to find things to apologize for? Unbelievable.
"I don't feel like you disrespected me," he finally said. "You asked him a question and he answered it. It was no big deal. It's his story to share as much as it is mine."
"But apparently it is a big deal or else you wouldn't have reacted the way you did. And I get it, I--I understand that you're proud. And I should have thought about that before I opened my big mouth. Sometimes I don't think before--"
"Proud?" He interrupted her, curious. That was an interesting word.
"Well, sure--"
"Pride has nothing to do with it," he replied, aggravated by the assumption. "Did Tay tell you that?"
"No."
"I'm not too proud for anything. I like the way I live and I like what I do. It doesn't--you know, it doesn't matter to me that I don't have money like you do or--"
"I don't have any money," she offered. "My daddy has money, but I don't have any."
"Please. It's the exact same thing," he argued.
"No, it isn't. I have to ask him if I need money for anything because I don't have any of my own."
"And he gives it right to you. It's the same thing. And that proves my point--you're a spoiled little rich girl."
"That's your point?"
"If the shoe fits. And it looks like it does."
"You know, for someone who claims to want to spend time with me, you sure are mean to me."
"I'm not being mean. I'm simply showing you the reality of our situations."
"Which is what?"
"While I spend my days working under the sun doing god knows what just to be able to make it through the day sometimes, you wouldn't know work if it bit you in the foot. It's real simple."
Suddenly, Bessie stopped in her tracks and Zac stopped alongside her and faced her. In that moment, her expression had changed and he knew he'd said the wrong thing. He'd said many wrong things. He braced himself for the repeat performance of yesterday. Why couldn't he just keep his mouth shut?
To his surprise, she grabbed the prop wand out of his hand and broke it in half over her knee. Who knew it was actually that easily broken? "I'll have you know, I can milk a cow with the best of them!" She spat out. "When times started to get hard and the produce on our farm quit selling, my daddy had to let good, loyal farmhands go because he couldn't afford to pay them or feed them for their work! I grew up with those farmhands and that day was the worst day of my life, watching them pack up and leave! From there, we had to man the farms ourselves, milking cows and collecting eggs and picking beans! I was up at four in the morning every single day and falling asleep in school just to come straight home and do it again right after! All the while, you are off doing stupid magic tricks because you're too stubborn to suck it up and look for a real job for fear that you won't be 'free' to run amuck anymore! And then you stand there and gripe and complain about how bad you have it or how much money you don't have, and you're not even willing to do anything about it! If either of us here is spoiled, it's you! How's that for the reality of our situations?"
Zac's jaw dropped as he watched this little firecracker go off. His heart raced and his body shook. Fear took over him in an instant. Fear that he'd done it this time, fear that he'd lost her for sure. "Bessie, I--I didn't know..."
"You didn't know because you don't care. It's all about you."
"That's not true. I do care. I care enough to ask you to the town social. That's why I asked you to go for a walk today. But I guess I blew that, huh?"
Now it was Bessie's turn to let surprise wash over her face. She raised her hands to her chest and fidgeted nervously with her thumbs. "Town social?"
"Yeah. You know, the dance."
She shook her head lightly, her expression having softened to her usual shy, wide eyes.
"Yeah," he replied, his voice calming. "It's like a big party where they play music and people dance and stuff. It's not normally something I like to do, but I thought it might be something you'd like to do. Maybe--maybe that could be, you know, like a real date."
"A...a date?"
"Well...I mean, I wanted it to be. But, you know, since I can't seem to stop upsetting you--"
"You want to go out with me?" She squeaked quietly.
He narrowed his eyes and studied her for a moment. "What part of anything I said to you the other night did you not believe? Am I that bad?"
"It would be my first date," she whispered.
"I know."
"Um..."
"I understand if you turn me down," he said gently. "I won't be mad at you. There are tons of other guys out there who are much better than me who are probably falling all over themselves to go with you. I just wanted a chance, that was all."
She shook her head and Zac's heart sank. "Okay," he said quietly in defeat. "Okay, that's--I took a shot, right? Don't know until you ask."
She shook her head more rapidly. "No, I mean nobody's asked me. You're...you're the first."
"Seriously?"
"Uh-huh," she nodded. "I didn't even know there was such a thing as a town social."
"So...um...am I too late, then? I mean, I know we haven't really gotten along, but--but I'd really like to take you."
She stared at him for a moment, blinking her long lashes over her hazel eyes. And then she nodded. "That sounds like it might be fun."
"Really?" He said, his hopes soaring. "You'd go with me?"
A shy smile crept across her face. "Yes. I'd like to go with you. Thank you for inviting me."
She was so sweet. So polite. And so unbelievably beautiful. Zac was on cloud nine, he couldn't believe his luck. Grinning a grin that hurt his cheeks, he turned and continued to lead them down the path to the clearing. "So, uh, I'm sorry I judged you," he said. "I had no idea you used to work on your farm."
"Yep," she said. "We only have one cow now, but Daddy takes care of the milking. And we have a few chickens that produces enough eggs for us, so collecting isn't that bad. We had to sell the rest of them. And we don't grow anything anymore."
"Wouldn't it be cheaper to grow your own stuff rather than buy it in the store, though?"
Bessie shrugged. "I guess. I don't know. I guess--I don't know, maybe in some ways I am a spoiled little rich girl."
Zac shook his head. "No, you're not."
They walked in silence for a few more minutes until they entered the clearing. Zac smiled. This was his favorite spot when he needed to get away. The grass was green and lush, wildflowers were plentiful, and an enormous tree with a thick trunk and a collection of low-hanging branches created the perfect natural armchair that he took advantage of for various activities, including thinking, reading, or napping.
Bessie's eyes widened as she looked around the clearing just past the woods they'd walked out of. "I never knew this was here," she breathed.
"It isn't frequented by many," he replied. "Though I don't know why. It's a great spot. I like to sit under the tree, there, and listen to the birds and watch the clouds roll by. It's great for relaxing. As a matter of fact, I think this may be the very first time I've ever uttered a word here."
"I'm sorry," she said, suddenly. "I'm intruding on your special place. We could go somewhere else--"
"No," he said, gently. "Don't be silly. If I didn't want to share it with you, I wouldn't have brought you here." Then he smiled and pulled Shakespeare's Sonnets out of his back pocket. "I brought something. I thought, you know, maybe you'd want to sit and read for a few minutes."
She looked over at the book and she shook her head rapidly. "No, thank you. I appreciate the gesture, but I don't really like Shakespeare..."
"Maybe you just haven't had it read to you the right way," he teased.
She furrowed her brow in confusion. "Read to me?"
"Come on," Zac smiled. "He's really not all that hard to understand."
Tucking a pinned-back curl behind her ear, Bessie allowed Zac to lead her to his favorite spot under the tree and they sat down, side-by-side. His pulse raced as her body was so close to his, her knee nearly touching his leg as she tucked her feet underneath her. He was in the midst of handing her the book when she whipped her head around to face him, suddenly. "Zac," she said briskly. "I broke your wand. I feel horrible about it. I had no right to do that, it didn't belong to me. I--I acted like a child..."
Zac's eyes darted around for a moment. The truth was, he'd forgotten about the wand until just then. His only concern had been Bessie. And at that thought, the wand suddenly didn't matter. There were plenty of fake, magic wands out there. So what if he'd have to splurge a little for a new one? But there was only one Bessie Harlow--and she was priceless.
Shrugging his shoulders, he handed her the book. "It's okay, I'm not worried about it. We don't have anything coming up anyway, so it's not like I'm going to need it. Besides, what use do I have for it now? I can just walk two feet in any direction and pick you a handful of flowers."
"You're not mad?"
He smiled and shook his head. "No. I'm not mad." Then his smile widened. "Besides, you looked kinda cute when you broke it, anyway."
Her eyes widened and she looked down at the book, but he could detect the smile she tried to hide. He loved making her smile.
As she opened the book and began to leaf through it, he found himself leaning close to her to follow along with her. As she skimmed the first page, she shook her head, frustrated, and slammed it shut. "I can't. I just can't, it all looks foreign to me."
"Here," he said, gently taking the book from her and opening it up to his intended page. He handed it back to her. "Let's start with this one."
"Zac, I just can't--"
"Shh," he whispered. "Just listen." Unable to resist her, he scooted an inch or two closer to her and moved her hair off of her shoulder, catching the scent of melon and honey, finding himself intoxicated by it. He didn't need to read along with her. That was only for her benefit. He had this one memorized. "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?" He recited softly into her ear. "Thou art more lovely and far more temperate."
"Zac," she interrupted in a nervous whisper as he felt her body tremble next to him, her shoulder nearly resting against his chest. "The word 'far' isn't in that line."
He smiled. "I'm improvising a little. Reciting it the way it suits me to recite it to you. Everyone has room for improvement. Even William Shakespeare."
She turned her head nervously to face him, but didn't complete the gesture as she discovered how close together they were and she focused her attention back on the book. "Bessie," he whispered. "Please don't be afraid of me."
"I'm not afraid," she replied.
"You're trembling."
"I'm all right."
"Are you uncomfortable?"
"No."
"Do you want me to move?"
She was silent for a moment as she stared down at the sonnet in her lap. He watched her swallow hard before her voice cracked out, "No."
He smiled, his heart soaring, the world around him suddenly looking so much more beautiful. Remembering what he was supposed to be doing, he continued to recite to her. "Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May," he recited slowly and deliberately. "And summer's lease hath all too short a date. Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines--"
"The eye of heaven is the sun," she clarified.
"Yes," he smiled. "And often is his gold complexion dimmed, and every fair from fair sometime declines, by chance or nature's changing course untrimmed."
"Often the clouds hide the sun and sometimes you can't predict the weather," she whispered.
"Exactly. But thy eternal summer shall not fade, nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st. Nor shall death brag thou wander's in his shade, when in eternal lines to time thou grow'st." He paused for a moment and looked at her, his face so close to hers that he could see her hair move as he breathed. And then he whispered gently, the last two lines into her ear. "So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see. So long lives this...I give my life to thee."
He watched her face as her eyes never left the book. He thought he heard her sniff, but he couldn't be sure until her voice cracked a little as she spoke. "Zac. That's not what that last line says."
"I know."
"Why did you improvise that?"
"Because I liked my line better."
She was silent as she closed the book and ran her hand gently over the cover. "That was beautiful," she whispered.
"It doesn't do you justice."
"Why are you saying all these beautiful things?"
"Because I'm an honest man," he replied quietly. "And I can't help the way I feel." He took the book from her hand and he leafed through it. "You want me to read another?"
"No," she shook her head. "No, I think that one's enough for now."
He furrowed his brow, concerned. "Did I upset you?"
"No. No, I just--I don't want to hear another because I want to remember that one." And then, suddenly, her head darted around and she looked up. "I wish we could tell the time. I have to go home soon."
Oh, say it wasn't so. They were just starting over; getting off to a good start. Zac didn't want it to end.
Reluctantly, he pulled his great-grandfather's antique pocket watch out of his pocket and flipped it open. Bessie's eyes widened at the sight of it. "That's beautiful!"
He flashed a smile at her and looked back at it. "Thanks. It belonged to my great-grandfather who lived in Holland. It was passed down all the way to me. It's the only real thing of value I own and it never leaves my sight. Still works like a charm." He paused to look at it and then he shoved it back in his pocket. "It's a quarter till five."
"Oh, no," she pouted. "I have to go home. Daddy usually gets home just before six and I have to help Mama with supper."
"Oh," he said, his heart breaking. It hadn't been enough time. Not near enough time. He needed more time with her.
"I don't want to go, though," she confessed. "I--I didn't want to go yesterday, either. Or the other night--I didn't want to go home then."
Zac longed to kiss her. He'd never longed to kiss a woman so much in his entire life. The way her light voice caressed his ear, and the way the sun reflected softly off her hair; he'd seen some of the finest art in all the world and, yet, not a single painting was even half as beautiful as the picture that sat before him. "I don't want you to go, either," he whispered.
"I like spending time with you," she said quietly. "I'm glad you asked me for a walk today. I was--um..." She began to blush and he never ceased to be amazed at how shy she was. "I was afraid I wouldn't see you again."
"I could never let that happen, Bessie. Look, I'm--I'm never gonna hurt you again. Okay? I don't want to fight with you and I don't want to upset you. I just--I only want to be around you. All the time."
"I'd like that, too."
He'd never been so heartbroken and so exhilarated all at the same time before as much as he was right now. He was the luckiest man in the world that she even wanted to spend time with him and he was the unluckiest because she had to go home and he had to go the rest of the night without seeing her or hearing her voice. He wondered how he would be able to handle it.
He looked her over, knowing they would have to end their short time together, and he took a deep breath and swallowed his nerves. "Bessie, would it--would it be too forward or--or too soon, even--if I asked to hold your hand while I walk you home?"
She looked over at him, her eyes wide with surprise and he swore he could almost hear the small gasp she sucked in. Then she shook her head and Zac smiled. "Is that a yes?"
Her response was a simple, but still surprised, nod.
His grin widened as he stood from the position he'd taken in the grass, dusted off his pants, and held his hand out to help her up. She looked at his hand for a moment, hesitantly, and then, finally, her soft, delicate hand slid into his and she allowed him to pull her up off the ground. He stood and looked at her for a moment as he continued to hold her hand, and then the pair finally turned and walked, hand-in-hand, back to the woods that led to Bessie's house.
Isaac had disappeared with Judith. Taylor and Millie were over canoodling by the large tree. Zac was left alone to clean up and pack up their act. He didn't care. He was happy for the distraction, though he wasn't sure how much of a distraction he had, seeing as cleaning and packing did nothing but leave him alone with his own thoughts.
How could he have been so stupid? How could he have let his pride run her off like that? He'd barely just met her--hadn't even had the chance to really get to know her. He blew his only chance with this mystery girl and he wasn't sure his heart would recover from it. He'd never been this drawn to anyone before. Anyone at all. In his vaudeville days, he'd met many women. He'd dated many women, slept with many women, and even courted one or two of them. But none of them had ever stolen his heart before, nor had he ever been willing to surrender his so easily.
At the sound of the trailer door opening, Judith bounded down the metal steps and Isaac stepped out the door, buckling his pants. Zac curled his lip up in disgust and his stomach churned as he went back to his work. He admired Isaac in a lot of ways, but sometimes he could be a real dog. A real, classless dog. This was one of those moments. If Bessie ever agreed to go with Zac, he determined that they would not be that kind of couple. Zac respected her and he wanted her to respect him and he would never think to objectify her or take advantage of her in any way. He would never grossly display her the way Isaac displayed Judith or even the way Taylor displayed Millie. Zac didn't care what kinds of things those girls were into, it was no excuse for his brothers to be tasteless and disrespectful.
Caught off guard, he heard his name in a female voice and he turned around as Millie and Taylor approached him. "Hey," Millie said softly as her raven waves blew her hair off her shoulders in the welcome breeze. "Tay told me about what happened yesterday. Um, I know you didn't mean whatever you said. I know you're a good person. Bessie just--well, she just doesn't understand a lot of things. She doesn't get out much. And I think maybe she just got upset because she doesn't--"
"You're wrong," Zac said flatly, suddenly feeling defensive. "She does understand. She understands a lot more than people apparently give her credit for. She was right about everything she said about me. I blew it and I get it."
"Zac, the only reason she's not here today is because when I went by her house to pick her up, she wasn't home. I thought--I thought maybe she came here. My aunt told me that she came here yesterday and I thought maybe she would come back."
"Yeah, well, so did I."
"She really likes you," Millie offered. "I probably shouldn't be telling you that since it's really not my business to tell. But I know she does."
Zac's heart fluttered and he stood from the trunk he was packing and looked at Millie for a moment. Then reality came crashing down and he sighed, going back to his work. "Maybe she did. But she doesn't anymore."
Millie let out a breath as she fidgeted with her thumbs. "Well. Anyway, for what it's worth, she doesn't live far from the gypsy camp. They have a farm close to the river, just a few miles from you--"
"I know where the Harlows live," he snapped.
"Oh," she replied shortly. "Well, then. I guess that means you have it all figured out, then. Guess you don't need my help, huh? Never mind the fact that I brought her along especially for you because I knew you'd make a good match--"
"Oh, come off it, Millie," Zac finally said, fed up with her ramblings. "You brought that poor girl along for your own selfish reasons. So you wouldn't have to feel sorry for me. You don't have to feel sorry for me, I'm perfectly capable of picking up my own women. You didn't do me any favors and you didn't do her any, either!"
"Didn't do you any favors?" She repeated, her eyebrow raised. "I introduced you to each other, didn't I?"
And with that, she turned on her heel and walked away.
Zac placed his hands on his hips and stared after her in thought for a moment. Well, if he didn't have it all figured out before, he certainly did now.
*************
Several hours later, after the trailer had been parked and settled back at the gypsy camp in their usual spot next to their broken down Ford, Zac had put on a fresh, white shirt, slid on his good suspenders, and tied his hair up and hid it underneath his wool cap, per his usual. From there, he walked the three, scorching hot miles that it took to get from the gypsy camp to Judge Harlow's farm. Zac assumed that the Harlow farm was established there way before the gypsies moved in because he couldn't imagine someone of Judge Harlow's status wanting to settle somewhere that close to a band of gypsies.
At home, with his brothers and the gypsies, Zac could walk around nearly naked without anyone batting an eyelash. He had to admit, he did love the freedom. The summers were so hot that it was common for the men to walk around in t-shirts and shorts, some of them in even less. The women remained a little more modest, but not by much. Sometimes Zac liked to sit under the shade of one of the trees, shirtless and pants-less, with only his shorts between him and the grass, as he used his pocket knife to whittle away at pieces of tree bark. On days when the breeze was active, it was especially nice.
Zac longed to be shirtless under a tree right now. His fresh shirt stuck to his back as he approached the porch of Judge Harlow's farmhouse. Admittedly, there were no signs of life on the property, but he suspected the women might be shut up in the house, seeing as the judge's workday wasn't quite over yet. No matter. Even if it was her mother that answered the door, it didn't help his nerves one bit. His shirt still stuck to his back, the sweat still poured from underneath his hat, and he was still incredibly self-conscious. The only thing keeping him sane? Good old Bill Shakespeare resting in his back pocket.
He cleared his throat, wiped his brow, adjusted his collar and his hat, and then he knocked on the door. And he waited.
Silence.
He strained his ear for a moment to listen for movement inside the house, shamelessly appreciating the shade of the porch's ceiling, and then he knocked again, a little louder this time. And he waited.
Still silence.
After a moment more, he determined that there wasn't a single Harlow in the house. He knew he hadn't seen a car on the property, but he hadn't been aware of their automobile inventory, either, so he had no real way of knowing who was home and who wasn't, save for the silence on the other side of the front door. Discouraged and disappointed, he stepped off the porch and shoved his hands in his pockets as he set off down the road in the opposite direction.
His head hanging low, he walked in silence, his brain functioning at a mile a minute. Along the dirt road, he kicked rocks and he dodged tiny lizards and he kept his eye open for snakes. He learned the hard way to keep his eye open for snakes, even in places where you didn't expect them.
Hearing voices in the nearby distance just ahead of him, he looked up and he adjusted his hat, narrowing his eyes curiously at the sight. It was Bessie, walking home with a guy. A tall, skinny, red-headed guy with fair skin in blue trousers and a red, plaid, short-sleeved shirt. So that was it, then. Bessie wasn't home because she was courting another guy. Wasn't this a pretty picture?
She hadn't seen Zac yet, so he stopped and he watched her. He watched her laugh and giggle and talk animatedly with the guy and the guy took in every word that she said. The guy finally spoke and whatever he'd said had been something hilarious because Bessie threw her head back and held her belly, the beautiful ringing of her laugh carrying through the afternoon air. Zac felt himself let out an uncontrollable breath at the sound.
As she calmed herself, she finally looked ahead at where she was walking. Several yards away from him now, the pair stopped and Bessie's eyes widened upon sight of him. To look into her eyes, even from that distance, was a sight that nearly brought him to his knees. She made him weak. How did a person not know the things they did to other people?
Swallowing hard and taking a deep breath, Zac started casually toward them. As he walked, the redhead looked him over, sizing him up. So it was like this, then? He sincerely hoped that the guy wasn't looking for trouble because he'd certainly found it. Zac was easily twice his size and could likely take care of him with one swift left hook. As frail as he looked, he knew it wouldn't take much. Was this what Bessie liked? Was this her type?
As he approached them, Bessie's mouth hung open. The redhead continued to look him up and down. Zac ignored him. "Hey, Bessie," he said, attempting to be as casual as possible.
"Zac?" She said in disbelief. "Were you--were you at my house?"
"Uh, yeah. Yeah, I--nobody was home, so...so I was heading back..."
"What were you doing at my house?"
"Looking for you."
"Uh, look, Bess, I'm gonna get going," the redhead suddenly said, his tone surprisingly uncomfortable. "Get me on the horn later or something, okay?"
"Okay," Bessie nodded. "Thank you for walking with me today."
"Yeah, anytime."
Sizing Zac up one more time, he turned around to watch him walk away. The whole thing perturbed him. He didn't like it.
He turned around to look at Bessie, studying her face for a moment. "Who's the guy?" He asked, pointing behind him with his thumb.
"Joey Martin," she replied. "He's my friend."
"Your friend, huh? You have a lot of friends," he observed flatly.
"No, I don't," she said, shaking her head.
"Sure, you do. You got a lot of men in your life, don't you? Me, Taylor...that guy...who else is there?"
"You're being very unfair--"
"Am I? Is he the reason you rejected me?"
"I rejected you because you acted just like this."
"I saw him sizing me up, I think I have reason to be defensive--"
"He wasn't sizing you up--"
"Please, I can already tell he hates me. Did you tell him what kind of monster I am or something?"
"No, but I will," she challenged.
He stepped out of the way and extended his arm behind him. "Be my guest. But you have to be willing to walk away from me to do it."
He watched her take a step and then she stopped. She looked past him in the direction that the redhead had walked in, but she didn't take another step. Zac's heart leapt with joy. She didn't leave. She chose to stay. This had to mean something.
After a moment of silence, she looked into his eyes and then she whispered softly, "He doesn't like girls."
Zac wasn't sure he'd heard her correctly. He opened his mouth to speak and then he closed it again. Then he said, "Did you--did you say--?"
"Yes," she continued to whisper. "He doesn't...you know, like girls. He wasn't sizing you up, he was...he thinks you're nice to look at. But nobody knows, so it would be nice if you kept it to yourself."
Zac was speechless. And a little dumbfounded. And extremely guilty. His eyes darted around and he shoved his hands in his pockets. "Well, uh, this is awkward..."
"If you weren't such a hothead, it wouldn't be so awkward."
"You got a bit of a mouth on you, don't you?"
"I'm not normally this rude, but my mama told me to never let a man walk all over me. I'm certainly not going to let you do it."
Zac swallowed, forcing his comeback back down his throat. She was right. Since yesterday she'd been nothing but right in keeping his attitude in check. He wasn't understanding why he continued to have one with her. He didn't want to fight her. He only wanted to know her.
"Bessie, I think--I think maybe you and I have gotten off on the wrong foot..."
She shook her head in objection. "I don't think so. I thought our walk the other night was nice. I thought we started off rather well."
He was speechless for a moment as he briefly reminisced. "Uh, well...well, I guess if you want to be technical about it. Um, I just...I wanted to know if you wanted to go for a walk with me."
She stared at him in silence and he prepared himself. He knew he was taking a chance and he knew that this was it, once and for all. If she rejected him now, it was over. Forever.
"Okay," she replied quietly, much to his surprise. "I'll walk with you. Thank you for asking."
Zac had to keep from jumping with joy. Clearing his throat, he took a look around. "Um, okay, then. We can, uh, let's go this way."
She nodded as she allowed him to lead her off of the road and back toward the land that spread out around her house. To the far right of the house, just past one of the two barns, were the woods. There were paths in the woods and Zac knew them all. More importantly than that, there was shade in the woods. And solitude.
They walked in silence for a few minutes as they crossed the green grass. Zac was just happy to walk with her, he didn't need words. However, he'd come here for a reason and he supposed he should get it out.
Bessie beat him to the punch. "So how was your act today?"
"Terrible," he confessed. "I messed up everything. Ike and Tay were mad. Money wasn't good."
"I'm sorry," she said quietly.
"It's okay. It was my fault, I had a lot on my mind."
"Was it--was it because of yesterday? Because I've been thinking about it, too."
Zac let out a breath and wiped his hands on the back of his pants, his eyes widening at the discovery of his wand in the opposite pocket as his book. He must have forgotten it was there after the act and, grateful to have something to keep him occupied, he took it out and began twirling it around between his fingers. "Bessie, I--I wanted to apologize to you. For my behavior yesterday. I didn't intend to act the way I did and I was wrong for it. I only want to spend time with you, I don't want to hurt you."
"Thank you," she replied shyly. "I accept your apology. And--and I apologize, too. I shouldn't have said--"
"Don't apologize," he interrupted. "You did nothing wrong. Nothing at all."
"Well, I'm--I'm sorry for throwing the flowers in your face. I, um, I wish I'd kept them. After I left, I mean."
Zac smiled as he glanced at the ground. "I'll pick you more. As many as you want. I'll pick the entire field."
Bessie giggled and crinkled up her adorable nose. "I don't think that's necessary."
"Just to see you smile like that, I'd do it for sure."
He watched her smile fade a little and she blushed as she tucked her hair behind her ear. "I like when you smile, too," she replied quietly.
Zac felt like a million dollars as they stepped into the woods.
Thankful for the significant change in temperature that the shade of the trees provided, he began to feel a little more comfortable with himself and with his surroundings. He led her onto a small pathway that had been made by human and animal, alike, that he knew led to a clearing out by the river. He made sure to watch her step more than his own, so as to not allow her trip over any twigs or be surprised by any wildlife.
"I was wrong yesterday," she suddenly said, interrupting the silence.
Zac shoved his free hand in his pocket as he continued to twirl his wand in his fingers, peering at the wooded landscape ahead of them. "You made that pretty clear."
"No. I mean I was wrong about being wrong. I was wrong to say that I was wrong about you not having a kind heart. I thought about that all night long and I feel horrible. I was angry and I said some things that I didn't mean. And I'm sorry. I don't believe that at all. I believe you're a good person."
Zac was taken aback by her confession. Unable to figure out how to react, he swallowed and tried hard to choose his words carefully. "You don't even know me."
"I think believing someone is a good person has more to do with what you feel than what you know."
Finally, he turned his head to look at her and caught her looking back at him. Shyly, she turned away quickly, her cheeks turning pink once more. At this, she cleared her throat. "Anyway, it was also wrong of me to ask Taylor about your history. I--I was curious and sometimes I get impatient and...well, I should have waited and asked you instead. I was disrespectful of me. I didn't mean to disrespect you."
The more she spoke, the less Zac was able to say. He was dumbfounded. At a complete loss for words. She thought she'd disrespected him? Taylor had been right, she had every right to ask him a question and he'd had every right to answer. And she'd had every right to put Zac in his place after he'd been so rude. And, yet, she was managing to find things to apologize for? Unbelievable.
"I don't feel like you disrespected me," he finally said. "You asked him a question and he answered it. It was no big deal. It's his story to share as much as it is mine."
"But apparently it is a big deal or else you wouldn't have reacted the way you did. And I get it, I--I understand that you're proud. And I should have thought about that before I opened my big mouth. Sometimes I don't think before--"
"Proud?" He interrupted her, curious. That was an interesting word.
"Well, sure--"
"Pride has nothing to do with it," he replied, aggravated by the assumption. "Did Tay tell you that?"
"No."
"I'm not too proud for anything. I like the way I live and I like what I do. It doesn't--you know, it doesn't matter to me that I don't have money like you do or--"
"I don't have any money," she offered. "My daddy has money, but I don't have any."
"Please. It's the exact same thing," he argued.
"No, it isn't. I have to ask him if I need money for anything because I don't have any of my own."
"And he gives it right to you. It's the same thing. And that proves my point--you're a spoiled little rich girl."
"That's your point?"
"If the shoe fits. And it looks like it does."
"You know, for someone who claims to want to spend time with me, you sure are mean to me."
"I'm not being mean. I'm simply showing you the reality of our situations."
"Which is what?"
"While I spend my days working under the sun doing god knows what just to be able to make it through the day sometimes, you wouldn't know work if it bit you in the foot. It's real simple."
Suddenly, Bessie stopped in her tracks and Zac stopped alongside her and faced her. In that moment, her expression had changed and he knew he'd said the wrong thing. He'd said many wrong things. He braced himself for the repeat performance of yesterday. Why couldn't he just keep his mouth shut?
To his surprise, she grabbed the prop wand out of his hand and broke it in half over her knee. Who knew it was actually that easily broken? "I'll have you know, I can milk a cow with the best of them!" She spat out. "When times started to get hard and the produce on our farm quit selling, my daddy had to let good, loyal farmhands go because he couldn't afford to pay them or feed them for their work! I grew up with those farmhands and that day was the worst day of my life, watching them pack up and leave! From there, we had to man the farms ourselves, milking cows and collecting eggs and picking beans! I was up at four in the morning every single day and falling asleep in school just to come straight home and do it again right after! All the while, you are off doing stupid magic tricks because you're too stubborn to suck it up and look for a real job for fear that you won't be 'free' to run amuck anymore! And then you stand there and gripe and complain about how bad you have it or how much money you don't have, and you're not even willing to do anything about it! If either of us here is spoiled, it's you! How's that for the reality of our situations?"
Zac's jaw dropped as he watched this little firecracker go off. His heart raced and his body shook. Fear took over him in an instant. Fear that he'd done it this time, fear that he'd lost her for sure. "Bessie, I--I didn't know..."
"You didn't know because you don't care. It's all about you."
"That's not true. I do care. I care enough to ask you to the town social. That's why I asked you to go for a walk today. But I guess I blew that, huh?"
Now it was Bessie's turn to let surprise wash over her face. She raised her hands to her chest and fidgeted nervously with her thumbs. "Town social?"
"Yeah. You know, the dance."
She shook her head lightly, her expression having softened to her usual shy, wide eyes.
"Yeah," he replied, his voice calming. "It's like a big party where they play music and people dance and stuff. It's not normally something I like to do, but I thought it might be something you'd like to do. Maybe--maybe that could be, you know, like a real date."
"A...a date?"
"Well...I mean, I wanted it to be. But, you know, since I can't seem to stop upsetting you--"
"You want to go out with me?" She squeaked quietly.
He narrowed his eyes and studied her for a moment. "What part of anything I said to you the other night did you not believe? Am I that bad?"
"It would be my first date," she whispered.
"I know."
"Um..."
"I understand if you turn me down," he said gently. "I won't be mad at you. There are tons of other guys out there who are much better than me who are probably falling all over themselves to go with you. I just wanted a chance, that was all."
She shook her head and Zac's heart sank. "Okay," he said quietly in defeat. "Okay, that's--I took a shot, right? Don't know until you ask."
She shook her head more rapidly. "No, I mean nobody's asked me. You're...you're the first."
"Seriously?"
"Uh-huh," she nodded. "I didn't even know there was such a thing as a town social."
"So...um...am I too late, then? I mean, I know we haven't really gotten along, but--but I'd really like to take you."
She stared at him for a moment, blinking her long lashes over her hazel eyes. And then she nodded. "That sounds like it might be fun."
"Really?" He said, his hopes soaring. "You'd go with me?"
A shy smile crept across her face. "Yes. I'd like to go with you. Thank you for inviting me."
She was so sweet. So polite. And so unbelievably beautiful. Zac was on cloud nine, he couldn't believe his luck. Grinning a grin that hurt his cheeks, he turned and continued to lead them down the path to the clearing. "So, uh, I'm sorry I judged you," he said. "I had no idea you used to work on your farm."
"Yep," she said. "We only have one cow now, but Daddy takes care of the milking. And we have a few chickens that produces enough eggs for us, so collecting isn't that bad. We had to sell the rest of them. And we don't grow anything anymore."
"Wouldn't it be cheaper to grow your own stuff rather than buy it in the store, though?"
Bessie shrugged. "I guess. I don't know. I guess--I don't know, maybe in some ways I am a spoiled little rich girl."
Zac shook his head. "No, you're not."
They walked in silence for a few more minutes until they entered the clearing. Zac smiled. This was his favorite spot when he needed to get away. The grass was green and lush, wildflowers were plentiful, and an enormous tree with a thick trunk and a collection of low-hanging branches created the perfect natural armchair that he took advantage of for various activities, including thinking, reading, or napping.
Bessie's eyes widened as she looked around the clearing just past the woods they'd walked out of. "I never knew this was here," she breathed.
"It isn't frequented by many," he replied. "Though I don't know why. It's a great spot. I like to sit under the tree, there, and listen to the birds and watch the clouds roll by. It's great for relaxing. As a matter of fact, I think this may be the very first time I've ever uttered a word here."
"I'm sorry," she said, suddenly. "I'm intruding on your special place. We could go somewhere else--"
"No," he said, gently. "Don't be silly. If I didn't want to share it with you, I wouldn't have brought you here." Then he smiled and pulled Shakespeare's Sonnets out of his back pocket. "I brought something. I thought, you know, maybe you'd want to sit and read for a few minutes."
She looked over at the book and she shook her head rapidly. "No, thank you. I appreciate the gesture, but I don't really like Shakespeare..."
"Maybe you just haven't had it read to you the right way," he teased.
She furrowed her brow in confusion. "Read to me?"
"Come on," Zac smiled. "He's really not all that hard to understand."
Tucking a pinned-back curl behind her ear, Bessie allowed Zac to lead her to his favorite spot under the tree and they sat down, side-by-side. His pulse raced as her body was so close to his, her knee nearly touching his leg as she tucked her feet underneath her. He was in the midst of handing her the book when she whipped her head around to face him, suddenly. "Zac," she said briskly. "I broke your wand. I feel horrible about it. I had no right to do that, it didn't belong to me. I--I acted like a child..."
Zac's eyes darted around for a moment. The truth was, he'd forgotten about the wand until just then. His only concern had been Bessie. And at that thought, the wand suddenly didn't matter. There were plenty of fake, magic wands out there. So what if he'd have to splurge a little for a new one? But there was only one Bessie Harlow--and she was priceless.
Shrugging his shoulders, he handed her the book. "It's okay, I'm not worried about it. We don't have anything coming up anyway, so it's not like I'm going to need it. Besides, what use do I have for it now? I can just walk two feet in any direction and pick you a handful of flowers."
"You're not mad?"
He smiled and shook his head. "No. I'm not mad." Then his smile widened. "Besides, you looked kinda cute when you broke it, anyway."
Her eyes widened and she looked down at the book, but he could detect the smile she tried to hide. He loved making her smile.
As she opened the book and began to leaf through it, he found himself leaning close to her to follow along with her. As she skimmed the first page, she shook her head, frustrated, and slammed it shut. "I can't. I just can't, it all looks foreign to me."
"Here," he said, gently taking the book from her and opening it up to his intended page. He handed it back to her. "Let's start with this one."
"Zac, I just can't--"
"Shh," he whispered. "Just listen." Unable to resist her, he scooted an inch or two closer to her and moved her hair off of her shoulder, catching the scent of melon and honey, finding himself intoxicated by it. He didn't need to read along with her. That was only for her benefit. He had this one memorized. "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?" He recited softly into her ear. "Thou art more lovely and far more temperate."
"Zac," she interrupted in a nervous whisper as he felt her body tremble next to him, her shoulder nearly resting against his chest. "The word 'far' isn't in that line."
He smiled. "I'm improvising a little. Reciting it the way it suits me to recite it to you. Everyone has room for improvement. Even William Shakespeare."
She turned her head nervously to face him, but didn't complete the gesture as she discovered how close together they were and she focused her attention back on the book. "Bessie," he whispered. "Please don't be afraid of me."
"I'm not afraid," she replied.
"You're trembling."
"I'm all right."
"Are you uncomfortable?"
"No."
"Do you want me to move?"
She was silent for a moment as she stared down at the sonnet in her lap. He watched her swallow hard before her voice cracked out, "No."
He smiled, his heart soaring, the world around him suddenly looking so much more beautiful. Remembering what he was supposed to be doing, he continued to recite to her. "Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May," he recited slowly and deliberately. "And summer's lease hath all too short a date. Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines--"
"The eye of heaven is the sun," she clarified.
"Yes," he smiled. "And often is his gold complexion dimmed, and every fair from fair sometime declines, by chance or nature's changing course untrimmed."
"Often the clouds hide the sun and sometimes you can't predict the weather," she whispered.
"Exactly. But thy eternal summer shall not fade, nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st. Nor shall death brag thou wander's in his shade, when in eternal lines to time thou grow'st." He paused for a moment and looked at her, his face so close to hers that he could see her hair move as he breathed. And then he whispered gently, the last two lines into her ear. "So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see. So long lives this...I give my life to thee."
He watched her face as her eyes never left the book. He thought he heard her sniff, but he couldn't be sure until her voice cracked a little as she spoke. "Zac. That's not what that last line says."
"I know."
"Why did you improvise that?"
"Because I liked my line better."
She was silent as she closed the book and ran her hand gently over the cover. "That was beautiful," she whispered.
"It doesn't do you justice."
"Why are you saying all these beautiful things?"
"Because I'm an honest man," he replied quietly. "And I can't help the way I feel." He took the book from her hand and he leafed through it. "You want me to read another?"
"No," she shook her head. "No, I think that one's enough for now."
He furrowed his brow, concerned. "Did I upset you?"
"No. No, I just--I don't want to hear another because I want to remember that one." And then, suddenly, her head darted around and she looked up. "I wish we could tell the time. I have to go home soon."
Oh, say it wasn't so. They were just starting over; getting off to a good start. Zac didn't want it to end.
Reluctantly, he pulled his great-grandfather's antique pocket watch out of his pocket and flipped it open. Bessie's eyes widened at the sight of it. "That's beautiful!"
He flashed a smile at her and looked back at it. "Thanks. It belonged to my great-grandfather who lived in Holland. It was passed down all the way to me. It's the only real thing of value I own and it never leaves my sight. Still works like a charm." He paused to look at it and then he shoved it back in his pocket. "It's a quarter till five."
"Oh, no," she pouted. "I have to go home. Daddy usually gets home just before six and I have to help Mama with supper."
"Oh," he said, his heart breaking. It hadn't been enough time. Not near enough time. He needed more time with her.
"I don't want to go, though," she confessed. "I--I didn't want to go yesterday, either. Or the other night--I didn't want to go home then."
Zac longed to kiss her. He'd never longed to kiss a woman so much in his entire life. The way her light voice caressed his ear, and the way the sun reflected softly off her hair; he'd seen some of the finest art in all the world and, yet, not a single painting was even half as beautiful as the picture that sat before him. "I don't want you to go, either," he whispered.
"I like spending time with you," she said quietly. "I'm glad you asked me for a walk today. I was--um..." She began to blush and he never ceased to be amazed at how shy she was. "I was afraid I wouldn't see you again."
"I could never let that happen, Bessie. Look, I'm--I'm never gonna hurt you again. Okay? I don't want to fight with you and I don't want to upset you. I just--I only want to be around you. All the time."
"I'd like that, too."
He'd never been so heartbroken and so exhilarated all at the same time before as much as he was right now. He was the luckiest man in the world that she even wanted to spend time with him and he was the unluckiest because she had to go home and he had to go the rest of the night without seeing her or hearing her voice. He wondered how he would be able to handle it.
He looked her over, knowing they would have to end their short time together, and he took a deep breath and swallowed his nerves. "Bessie, would it--would it be too forward or--or too soon, even--if I asked to hold your hand while I walk you home?"
She looked over at him, her eyes wide with surprise and he swore he could almost hear the small gasp she sucked in. Then she shook her head and Zac smiled. "Is that a yes?"
Her response was a simple, but still surprised, nod.
His grin widened as he stood from the position he'd taken in the grass, dusted off his pants, and held his hand out to help her up. She looked at his hand for a moment, hesitantly, and then, finally, her soft, delicate hand slid into his and she allowed him to pull her up off the ground. He stood and looked at her for a moment as he continued to hold her hand, and then the pair finally turned and walked, hand-in-hand, back to the woods that led to Bessie's house.