Close to Home by Emma Miller

Chapter 12

Caleb reined the horse off the lane, got out of the buggy and tied the horse to a tree. He hurried to catch up with Mary. Luckily for him, it was a long lane. "Evening, Mary," he said as he drew up to her.

She lengthened her stride.

He stretched his legs to keep up. "Nice apple crop this year. Especially the Granny Smiths."

Mary didn't answer, but she gave an exasperated little sigh.

"Good year for soybeans, too," he said.

She stopped and whirled to face him. "What do you think you are doing?"

"Just walking."

"Walking where?"

"I believe there's a creek up ahead, near the road. A pretty woman told me to jump in."

Mary made a small sound of amusement. "And do you always do everything girls tell you to do?"

"I try to. When they're pretty. And sweet."

She sighed and folded her arms over her chest. "What are you doing, Caleb? Why are you walking when you've got a horse and buggy?"

"You wouldn't ride with me, so I decided to walk with you."

"I don't want you to walk with me."

"I'm too short for you. That's it, isn't it?"

"

Ne.

I'm too tall, but you're not too short."

"You're not too tall. So it must be something else about me." He flexed a bicep. "Am I not muscular enough?" 

The tenseness drained out of her voice as she fought a smile. "

Ne,

Caleb. Your muscles are fine."

He grinned. "You noticed?"

"Hard not to see the fool on the ridgepole of the barn yelling at the top of his lungs."

"You're still mad about the spelling bee, aren't you?" he asked.

"

Ne.

I am not

mad.

" She started walking again. "Sometimes foxes or skunks are

mad.

I don't have rabies."

"It was stupid, okay? I did a stupid thing when I was fourteen."

"You cheated," she accused. "You didn't know how to spell

chrysanthemum.

You always got it wrong. We both did. Remember?"

He groaned. "You're right, Mary. I did cheat. I was afraid the teacher would pick that word because she'd remember I got it wrong on the quizzes."

"So how did you do it?"

"I wrote the word on my wrist in ink. Under my shirtsleeve. It was the only one I wrote."

"So, you admit it now?" 

She was standing so close that he could smell the scent of honeysuckle in her hair. "

Ya.

I just said so, didn't I? It was wrong. But I couldn't stand to lose at the time, not in front of my family."

"Don't you think I wanted to win, too? My father would have let me repeat the eighth grade if I'd won."

He looked into her eyes, wishing desperately he could go back and change that day. "If it helps, I knew it was wrong. It bothered me for years. It still does. And losing your friendship was worse. I didn't want you to be disappointed in me, so I lied to you. And I lost you anyway. I've missed you so much."

"You never apologized."

"I'm trying to now, Mary. I was fourteen years old and I did a stupid thing. I'm not a kid anymore. And I'm asking for your forgiveness. Can you forgive me?"