To relieve her aching knees, Sylvia sat on the ground in the center of the freshly tilled garden plot next to the workshop. Alone, she dug through the bare dirt using a handheld claw rake, while the cheerful summer sun cast a shadow off her wide-brimmed, yellow straw hat. She was waiting for Warner to return from Darrington with more garden supplies—and he better not forget lunch. Dragging the three prongs through the loamy earth, she removed a root from the bracken fern that had begun to invade, and added it to the growing root pile beside her. I had no idea helping to restore this old garden would feel so rewarding. Although it was too late in the season for planting vegetables, she wanted the garden to be ready for next spring.
To avoid the heat of the day, Bella lay curled up in the shade of a young cedar tree nearby, her vigilance marked by a gentle rhythmic snore. The setting filled Sylvia with peace. Working in the dirt and breathing in the earthy smells, she felt drawn to the property; it stirred fond recollections of her departed mother. Mother always had a beautiful victory garden. She even won the Golden Spade award one year in Stillwater. I may not share her green thumb, but it’s still fun playing in the dirt. Is this any different than when I was a child on father’s farm with only the animals to talk to?
As she arched her back to stretch, Sylvia’s thoughts turned. It’s not really the same. How could it be? The last six months since Bob’s death have been awful. It doesn’t help that back home, everything—my house, my friends, even my small town—is saturated by Bob’s presence. He’s everywhere there—and he’s not. But here, the wilderness is so peaceful, I almost feel content again. Like life’s offering me a second chance and a new purpose—to be part of my family again.
As Sylvia returned to raking through the ground, a silver glint caught her eye. Setting the tool aside, she lightly ran her fingers through the dirt. Brushing aside a thin layer of soil revealed a delicate chain. With a thrill, she gently tugged it; the end remained buried in the soil. She dug around where the chain disappeared and shouted in delight at discovering it was attached to an ornately carved heart-shaped locket. Placing the locket in the palm of her hand, she used the hem of her yellow cotton blouse to wipe away the soil. When she tilted the find, a bright glint of reflected sunlight flashed across her eyes. Heavens, it’s beautiful!
The locket was in good condition except for a thin rim of tarnish along the edges. Turning it over, she looked for an inscription, but any mark that might have once existed was long gone. She admired the heart-shaped design with a sculpted relief of holly leaves before placing it in the pocket of her blouse.
It’s like finding my own buried treasure. How did it get here? Who did it belong too? I’ll have Warner contact Mr. Tollman. Maybe he will know… I hope it cleans up well enough I can wear it.
The unexpected discovery filled Sylvia with a new sense of optimism: my home and future is with my family here in the Pacific Northwest, at this cabin. With an unconscious smile, she retrieved the hand tool and resumed her work clearing the garden.
“Hi!” a voice called.
“Ahhh!” Sylvia exclaimed, turning sharply with her hand raised to her chest. “What’n tarnation!”
Near the curve in the drive, Lina stood in midstride, looking like a startled deer unsure it was safe to approach.
“Oh, dear! I thought you were a bear sneaking up for a snack.” Sylvia breathed a sigh of relief. “You’re quiet as a rabbit.” She turned to glare at Bella, who twitched her large paws, lost in a dream chase. I hope whatever she’s after gets away.
“Come sit with me,” Sylvia invited. “If you like, grab my chair by the workshop.”
With a broad smile, Lina was almost to Sylvia when Bella finally roused, stretched in a deep bow, and galloped over with a high-pitched whine in greeting. Nudging Lina’s hand with her big black nose, Bella begged for attention. Lina rubbed the dog’s head before stepping closer to Sylvia and dropping to her knees on the bare dirt.
“You’re becoming a frequent visitor,” Sylvia said pleasantly.
“Sorry… I didn’t mean—,” Lina said with a crushed look as she began to rise.
“No, no! I don’t want you to leave,” Sylvia said. “Please stay. I like having you around. Kendra’s gone so often…,” Sylvia paused. I hate to admit it, but I’m finding more of a connection with this simple country girl than my own daughter-in-law. I wonder why Kendra doesn’t like her. Does Lina remind her too much of where she came from? Or of how she used to be—happy and friendly, instead of absorbed in work, distant and moody.
“I like you too,” Lina said, settling back onto the ground and dragging her hand through the dark soil. A hint of pink colored the girl’s cheeks.
“Thank you.” Sylvia gave the girl a genuine smile. “I bet you make your mother proud.”
“I… used to, before she ran off.” Lina gripped a fist full of dirt.
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It’s okay cuz I got Luke… and our boy.”
“That’s good. I feel better knowing you’re not alone over there. What’s your son’s name?”
“Jayden, but family calls him JD,” Lina said, throwing the handful of dirt off to the side. “After the fire burnt the cabin down out here, Papa took care of the both of us. Least ‘til he remarried that weasel. Things has been pretty bad ever since. Now stuffs changing. Maybe like a second chance or something.”
“Second chances are wonderful. But you have to be ready to grab those chances tight and hold on, sort of like what I’m doing now that my husband’s gone.”
A bewildered look crossed Lina’s face. “Cain’t be coincidence us both getting new beginning’s at the same time. Maybe we’s supposed to help each other out….”