Page 64 of Magnolia Summer

“The way Will explained it, they’ve cut a wedge out of the other side, the side they want it to fall toward.”

Truett straightened his back and stepped away from the saw to give Will and Grady a turn.

Celia went on. “They tied one rope to the tree and attached it to a winch. Now they’re cutting it from this side at a sharp angle. They’ll cut all the way through to the wedge on the other side.”

Truett walked over to the winch at the edge of the yard.

“Truett is turning the handle to keep the tension as tight as possible. Now he’s tightening the other rope, which they wound around that tree, since they only had one winch. When they get the tree cut in two, they’ll pull it down using the ropes and the winch.”

Lizzie sighed. “Isn’t it a blessing to have such kind neighbors?” She turned her sweet, innocent smile on Celia. “Especially one as handsome as Dr. Truett Beverly?”

Celia pursed her lips at her sister.

“You have to admit,” Lizzie shook her finger at her, “if it weren’t for him, we would have been up a creek.”

She bit the inside of her lip. Truett was undeniably a good man. Good enough to work hard all day to help out a family who neither deserved his help nor was able to reward his kindness or return the favor.

Well, he didn’t look like he minded. He and the other two men were laughing and slapping each other on the back. Will was having a great time, too. He seemed to have grown two inches with the pride of working alongside the three men, doing an equal share.

“Let’s go get them some water.” Lizzie’s face lit up and she tugged on Celia’s arm. “Come on! Show a little gratitude for all they’re doing for us.”

She let Lizzie drag her outside to the well. They each drew a bucket of cool water, hung a long-handled dipper on the side, and headed toward the men.

Lizzie scurried toward Will and Grady, so Celia started for Truett, her knees feeling a bit weak. Probably from not getting much sleep.

* * *

Truett lookedup from the winch to see Celia heading his way with a bucket of water. Then again, it was probably Lizzie who had forced her into bringing him a drink. He couldn’t let himself go all soft in the head, although it was difficult any time she was around.

She smiled shyly, which was a first, and said, “Water?”

“Thanks.” He took the dipper from her hand. His fingers brushed hers. He forced himself to look away from her mesmerizing brown eyes and gulped down the entire contents of the dipper.

He wiped his mouth with his sleeve and handed her the empty ladle.

She refilled it and held it out to him. He shook his head. “Thank you.”

“Truett, I—” She glanced to the left where Greenbrier approached. Her lips twitched ending in a slight frown, that quickly changed back to a bland look. She turned her gaze back to him. “How are things progressing?”

What was going on inside that head of hers?

She handed the dipper to Greenbrier and he drank, spilling half of it down his already wet shirt. She handed him another one, then took a step away from him. Truett forced himself not to laugh.

“It’s progressing well, I think.”

“Oh, yeah, it’s coming along.” Greenbrier’s voice boomed. Truett had often wondered if the man was naturally loud, or if the ring of his hammer, day after day, had made him slightly deaf. “We’ll give it the old heave-ho before much longer.”

“We certainly owe you men a debt of gratitude for your help.”

She looked as if she really meant it, her head tilted at a humble angle. She glanced up at him through black lashes and Truett’s heart did a flip.

“It ain’t nothing, miss. I was ready for some fresh air and sunshine after banging away in that smithy!” Greenbrier’s guffaw was even louder than his words.

Truett cocked his head at Celia. “Will says you killed a snake, Miss Celia.”

Her cheeks turned a pretty pink, but there was pride in the tilt of her chin. “I did.”

Greenbrier whistled. “With a gun? A little miss like you?”