Page 33 of Magnolia Summer

Lizzie gave her a quizzical look. “Why do you have that gun?”

“This?” Celia had forgotten she was still holding Daddy’s rifle. “Oh. I heard someone outside and didn’t know who it was. But it’s just Dr. Beverly.” She stepped away from the window, trying to look nonchalant. “I’ll go put it away.”

“What’s he doing?”

“Splitting wood.” She shrugged, as though the town doctor splitting wood in their yard was the most ordinary thing.

“Oh, that is so sweet.” Lizzie peeked out the window.

Yes it was. Very sweet.

She put away the gun and then came back to help Lizzie with breakfast. She knew how to make the dough for the biscuits now, so she started getting out the flour and butter while Lizzie built a fire in the stove, but she had to force herself not to look out the window.

She tore her gaze away. Again. What would Lizzie think?

Celia finished mixing the biscuit dough, but when she turned to get the rolling pin, which was only inches from the window, she looked out.

Truett brought the ax down on a smaller piece of wood. The pieces flew in two directions. He leaned the ax against the wood pile and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. Then he bent over and began gathering the pieces of wood. When he started to turn in the direction of the house, she whirled away from the window, forgetting the rolling pin. She had to scrunch down and snake her hand across the counter so he wouldn’t see her through the window—if he happened to be looking.

“Celia?” Lizzie wrinkled her nose. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing.”

Lizzie frowned.

“I just don’t want Truett to see me.”

“You don’t want him to see you staring at him, you mean.” Lizzie laughed. “Celia Wilcox, tell the truth. You like him.”

“Lizzie, stop. I don’t”—she dropped her voice to a hiss— “like him!” She finished the statement as an angry whisper. Then her conscience smote her. “All right, maybe I like him, just like you and Will and Tempie and Harley like him. We all like him. Now will you please stop talking about it?”

“Whatever you say, Celia.”

Lizzie grinned. Celia huffed at her. There was no use arguing. Besides, her feelings for Truett Beverly were nothing she wanted to discuss, even with herself. She was going back to Nashville, and the sooner the better.

“But I do think you should go offer the poor man a dipper of water.” Lizzie was turned toward the stove so Celia couldn’t see her expression.

“I’m not even dressed!”

“Well, go get dressed. You don’t want him to see you in your nightgown, do you?”

“Of course not!” Celia yanked her wrapper tighter around her waist. She turned and stomped to the bedroom to get her clothes. Just to prove to Lizzie that she didn’t care, she picked out her ugliest work dress.

Should she really go outside and offer Truett water? Part of her thought it was the nice thing to do, but part of her just couldn’t do it. He would think she was flirting with him! Wasn’t it Rebecca in the Bible who snagged herself a husband by offering to draw water? She was sure Truett had read that story, too. No, Lizzie was just trying to play matchmaker again. He could get his own water.

When they finished preparing breakfast, Lizzie stood in the back door and called out to Truett. “Will you come in and eat with us?”

Celia stood back as far as she could from the window. Truett straightened and looked back at Lizzie. His hair was dark with sweat and curled against his temples. “Thank you, Lizzie, but I’ll grab a bite at home. I’m about finished up here. I need to get to the office.” He smiled and his eyes sparkled in the sun.

“I’ll wrap you up a biscuit anyway. Celia makes good biscuits.”

Lizzie slipped back inside, grinning from ear to ear. Celia wanted to snap, “Why should it matter to him if I make good biscuits?” But she held her tongue.

A few minutes later, Truett came to the back door. Celia stood back as Lizzie went outside and begged him again to come in and eat something.

“No thanks, Miss Lizzie, but much obliged anyway.”

She handed him a cloth bag with three biscuits with butter and plum jelly. He thanked her. As she leaned toward him to give him a hug, he clasped her shoulder.