Beneath the Apple Leaves(30)

She cocked her head at this.

“What?”

“You called me Lily girl.”

“Hmmm.” He thought of this for a moment. “So I did.”

They crested the hill and walked side by side toward the sun that sparkled the weeds and the mica in the stones. The old work boots, ancient hand-me-downs from her father, grazed her knees with each step. They were too big, but the blisters had healed years ago and so they slid against her heels without a wince.

She stepped off the side flats of low grass and entered the road, walked right in the middle without any fear of meeting another soul or vehicle. Lily pointed to the right, her arm grazing his chest. “Those are the Muellers down that way. Hog farmers.”

Andrew crinkled his nose. “No surprise there.”

“Sure they’ll pay you a visit soon. Heard they were upstate with family. Pieter Mueller’s your age. You two’ll probably get along fine.” She turned to him curiously. “If you don’t mind me saying, you don’t seem like a farmer.”

“No?” He shoved his hand into his pocket self-consciously, wondered if she was referring to his injury. He peeked at her, saw the eyes open and without pity, and he felt reassured. “Well, guess it doesn’t matter if I seem like one or not, just what I am now.” He couldn’t shake her eyes peering into him.

“I always wanted to take care of animals.” His voice fell slightly. “I know that seems silly, but just what I always wanted to do. Help them, you know?”

Her eyes widened as if she was just seeing him for the first time and he realized she didn’t think it was silly at all. He smiled. “They talk to me sometimes.” Then corrected himself with a laugh. “Well, not really talk to me with words, but I feel like I can understand them. We’re not any different if you think about it. Animals and people. We still feel. Still get scared and mad. We’re not different at all, when you think about it.”

She bit her lip. “I draw animals. Sometimes.”

“Yeah?”

She nodded. “They’re not very good. Just like to draw them, makes me feel closer to them, like you were saying. Like I don’t have to hide or pretend with them.” She clamped her mouth as if she had said too much.

Andrew smiled widely at her, liked her so much right then that he didn’t feel the road beneath his feet or the sky above his head.

“I think it’s nice you care about the animals,” she said. “I think there’s a special place saved in Heaven for people who care for all the creatures.”

“They’re probably sitting with those people who know how to deliver babies.” He gave her a quick wink.

They were quiet for a while when she glanced at him, glanced back quickly to her old work boots. “Can I ask you something? Mrs. Kiser isn’t your ma, is she?”

“No. My aunt.” He kicked at a pebble along the road.

“Where are your parents?” She tried to soften her voice. “I mean, if you don’t mind me asking.”

“My mother’s in Holland. My father passed away.” He grew quiet and this time she watched him, waited for an answer. When none came, she strode on quietly.

He didn’t want to think about death. He wanted to keep talking to this girl with the soft smile and tender eyes. He felt playful for the first time since his accident. He brushed her arm lightly with his elbow to get her attention. “My last name isn’t Kiser, by the way. It’s Houghton.”

From the corner of his eye, he could see her watching his profile, her expression intense. “My father was a coal miner down in Fayette County,” he confided. “Died in a mining accident.”

Lily walked absently, her eyes wide and staring. “Is that how you lost your arm?” she asked. “In the coal mine?”

He turned away, tightened his jaw. “No. I was working on the railroad with my uncle. I was on the roof of the train when . . . I fell.” He didn’t need to say more.

He turned to her and was instantly taken aback by the full, open look of her face, a look that seemed to wrap around him in an embrace. “You’re lucky to be alive.” The words nearly a gasp.

He had never thought of it like that. “I guess so. I nearly didn’t make it. Fever almost did me in.”

She brushed her elbow against his accidentally. “I’m glad it didn’t.”

They were silent for a few more moments before she asked, “Do you miss them? Your parents?”

“I do.” He smiled at her searching face, the purity of its questioning. “I miss my father a lot. He was a good man. I miss them both.”

A breeze picked up, blew Lily’s golden hair around her neck. “I don’t have many memories of my father,” she added. “And the ones I have aren’t worth remembering.”

The heaviness of her words settled in his chest. “I’m sorry.”

She shrugged. “My sister’s all the family I have.”

“And your brother-in-law.”

She shot him a spark of fire before relenting. “He’s not family. He’s my sister’s husband. I had no say in it. Didn’t even have a choice about taking on his last name.”

Andrew and Lily walked the miles to the Morton home in comfortable strides with small talk of the weather mingled with stories of neighbors’ crops, innocuous, casual bantering that came from the throat, but between them was a steady warmth of the skin that could not have found conversation to match. And as they neared the long and rutted gravel drive through the woods, Andrew wished the walk had been much longer.