Steady Love

Persistence

The events of the night before were still heavy the next morning when the sun woke me up. I sighed internally, knowing that it was time to get up and begin the day. I wrapped a thin, waffle knit robe around my body tightly before heading out into the muggy morning air to sit on the porch with a cup of tea and my Bible. Beginning and ending my day with Jesus. That was the only way I could keep my calm spirit intact.
After studying the Lords word, I stepped back into the house and changed my clothes, getting ready to start my chores before breakfast.
I gathered the eggs from the chickens, and fed and watered Nellie, the large standard bred, before going into the barn to tie up Mitzi, the small milking goat.
I sat on the milking stool with Mitzi in the head stall, filling the tin bucket with milk. As I sat there, I could feel the tiny kicks as the baby moved around. I allowed my mind to focus on the baby, the milking, and the Lord as I floated between humming and singing every few words of the hymn I was thinking of.
"Oh what a friend we have in Jesus" my head snapped up. How long had he been standing there?
     Cal, the man who'd appeared in my drive way the night before with an envelope of supposed inheritance in hand, stood before me, leaning against the door frame of the barn. His eyes were wild blue, I noticed now, and his stubble was a little longer today than it had been yesterday.
     He wore a brown t shirt stretched tight over his chest, and a button up unbuttoned over it. I wondered silently if the cowboy hat he donned on his head was truly the brown it seemed to be or if it was dirt.
"Uh. Yeah, yeah that's the song." I said, snapping back to reality and looking back to the goat and away from him. I finished up with Mitzi and then set the bucket aside, letting her escape from her place. She jumped down and scurried out of the barn to graze on the milk weeds and hay in the yard.
     I stood and set the milking stool aside. I wiped my hands in my apron and brushed my hair behind my ear.
"Uh, what can I help you with this morning?" I asked, feeling suddenly self conscious of my denim overalls, hair scarf and rubber boots.
He stepped into the barn farther, tipping his hat a bit. "Well, I was more feelin' like I could do somethin' for you."
I studied him. He seemed sincere, but I wasn't quite sure what he thought he could do for me.
"I'm all good here, I'm not sure really what you're thinking you could help me with." I said, attempting to excuse myself to put the milk away.
I walked thru the yard, and up onto the small back porch, but quickly realized he was following me.
"You haven't even opened the envelope."
I spun around. "You've been in my house?"
I wasn't afraid of him. I didn't know why but I wasn't. But I still didn't want him in my house without permission. It was my house. My safe space.
He shook his head. "No, no I haven't. I saw it on the table thru the window when I got here. You didn't answer the door so I was checking to see if you were alright. Bein' that you're in the condition you're in."
I knew very well my condition, and I didn't need him telling me every 5 minutes about it.
"Look, anything that man left me I don't want. The second I figure out how to get it all turned over to someone else I'm gonna take care of it. Right now I've gotta get to work." I opened the screen door of the little house and walked inside, slipping my boots off on the porch.
He was right behind me. Having slipped his boots off beside mine and came inside.
"You shouldn't be working-" I spun around
"Please! Stop saying "in your condition"! I know perfectly well what my condition is and i assure ya, I've got it handled on my own. I don't even know you, I sure don't need you to help me in no way."
Why was this man so concerned about me anyway? He didn't know me from Adam and drove hundreds of miles to deliver some kind of envelope- I stopped my own thought trail. That was it.
He wanted it. All of it.
I quickly stomped to the table where the envelope sat, putting the milk jug on the counter and picking up the envelope I extended my arm. "You want it."
He was puzzled . I could see it all over his face.
"You won't leave me alone because you want the stuff he left me. You can have it. I don't need any of it." I shrugged, handing the envelope towards him.
He put his hands up, slipping his hat off. "Corinne" it sent shivers thru me when his gruff voice whispered my name. In a way I wasn't familiar with. Not a bad way, but one that felt easy and good. Now I was confusing myself. "I assure you, I don't need anything your father left you. I do just fine for myself. I have things of my own. Including the ranch that boarders your fathers, right on the boarder of Colorado. I don't need a dime, nor acre from your father nor you. My presence and persistence is purely conviction and concern. Open the envelope. Have a good day, Corinne." His voice was low and kind. Which was far more than I deserved, my own conviction told me.
He replaced his hat and stepped around me, exiting the house out the kitchen door. I watched out the window as he walked to his truck. His button up pulling right over his bent shoulders as he watched his boots walk. I could see the tension in his strong jaw when he pulled the door of his truck open, never turning his eyes back up to me before pulling back out of the driveway and starting down the gravel road.
I sat down at the table in front of the envelope for a long time that morning. Much longer than I should have. But I finally opened it.
Deeds to a large ranch house, 5,000 acres of land, hundreds of head of cattle and various other animals, bank accounts, all of these things that I didn't earn nor ask for. I tipped the envelope up, feeling a hard lump in the bottom. I dumped it over and out spilled a set of keys, and a smaller, white envelope.
I picked up the white envelope, running my fingers over the front.
Corinne Donise
I had never seen the handwriting before, but I knew it must have been his.
I wasn't sure if I wanted to open it.
     I tucked everything back into the envelope, gathering the remainder of my things and leaving the small house to go to work.