Forget sharing the land behind the cottage. If she found even one of his flower pots there, she would fling it deep into the woods, never to be seen again.
That was what she thought.
Then why—
Why was there nothing to complain about? Nothing she could point out and thus pick a fight!
Not only had his flower pots been moved elsewhere, he had even made beds and all she need do was begin her work.
The left side of the cottage had been cleared overnight. That was where his pots now rested.
"Did he not sleep at all?" she muttered, glancing about. "Or is he some sort of mage? How else could he have done all this overnight?"
The sun had not yet risen fully.
She had left home early. Though she usually took the longer path around the woods to greet the neighbors, that morning she chose the path through the forest instead. She had believed he would not yet be astir.
She had been very prepared for battle.
Yet her opponent was nowhere in sight.
The cottage was empty—she had checked.
After all her planning and—
"Damaris…"
She turned. Freda stood there with a huge basket balanced upon her head.
"Ah, I see you are here already," Freda said.
"I—"
"Help me down, would you?" Freda urged.
"Oh, certainly." Damaris stepped forward, and together they lowered the basket from Freda's head. The weight nearly bent Damaris in half.
"By Phineas, Freda, what in the world is in this basket?" Damaris asked, rolling her shoulders and stretching her back.
"Ah, you see—"
Freda crouched and lifted the white cloth she had covered the basket with.
Beneath it lay an abndance—gourds of freshly drawn milk, warm loaves of bread, and an assortment of fruits.
"Freda, is there a feast I do not know of?" Damaris asked because the basket held enough to feed a family of five.
Freda chuckled. "Oh, Damaris, you never cease to make me laugh. There is no feast. These are for the kind, handsome gentleman who helped me take care of my boy yesterday."
Kind? Handsome gentleman?
Had someone else tended to Peter yesterday?
"You know, when you called him up to introduce himself the other night, I thought he would be difficult to approach. Yet he turned out to be very kind, am I right?"
She was speaking of the same Zuri, was she not? The rude one?
"Peter would not cease speaking of how he fed him and how nice he treated him. And you saw him last night—how he carried the child in his arms. Such a gentleman he is!" she declared.
"Everyone is talking about him now," Freda continued with a bashful smile. "The young ladies rose early claiming they must thank him for saving Peter. But I refused to be bested by anyone in thanking my son's savior."
Damaris saw the blush upon Freda's face and nearly scoffed.
"I am surprised to see you got here before me, Damaris."
Yes, she too had risen early to see him, but not with the intentions they had in mind. Certainly not!
"B—But Freda, is this not… somewhat excessive, even as a gift of appreciation?"
"Oh, wait until you see what the other mothers have prepared. This small cottage might not be enough to store it all. He kept Peter safe—everyone wants to take this chance to welcome him in the Wisteria way."
The Wisteria way…
She knew very well what it was like.
She remembered how they had welcomed her too.
Back then, she had remained indoors, deeply consumed by fear to the point that she dreaded looking out the window—yet they came.
First it was the children, bearing gifts, berries and ripe fruits. Then the adults followed. And before she knew it, she had taken her first step out of Milcah's door and back into the world… into Wisteria.
That was the Wisteria way.
It had saved her once.
But did that insolent man deserve such warmth?
"Freda—"
"Where is Zuri? Is he not home?"
"I do not—"
"Oh, I heard you mean to plant something new here. Have you begun?"
"I just—"
"Seeing the beds prepared, I can tell you have. Since you will be working here, would you kindly pass these on to him for me?"
"Wait, no. I—"
"I would have very much loved to express my gratitude in person, but you see I must return before Peter wakes up."
"Freda hold on—"
"Thank you Damaris, you are ever so kind." She covered the basket with the white linen again. "I shall be off now. Until later."
And with that, Freda vanished as quickly as she had appeared. Damaris stood there, staring down at the basket, Freda's words echoing in her mind…
She walked toward the tall chestnut tree beside the cottage and dropped her bag at its base.
"Kind and handsome—my foot!"she hissed and was about to kick the tree, but her gaze fell to her bare feet and she stopped.
Little did she know, the owner of the cottage—the very kind and handsome gentleman—sat some thirty feet above her, perched upon a sturdy branch, watching her every move.
The corner of his mouth curved.
He thought… She has lost her sandals again.