It was already hot. Sarah wiped small beads of sweat from her forehead as she crossed from the house to the barn. When there was a breeze it was just barely enough to stir the dust in the yard, usually blowing it straight toward the clothesline where her sheets were hung.
As she approached the barn she stopped, listening to an engine coming down the dirt road in front of the house.
It didn't sound like a car or truck, a little like a tractor maybe, but not exactly.
The sound drew nearer and Sarah found herself turning from her path toward the mailbox to see what it was, just as the motorcycle and rider came into view from around the curve.
The man looked her way and Sarah caught herself waving, and grinning.
The rider slowed and pulled into the yard, cutting the engine to his machine.
He wasn't a really big man, Sarah thought, not like her Leon, But something about him made her feel a little sheepish, as he looked at her and smiled.
Hello, Ma'am," He said as he removed the goggles and cap he was wearing.
"Hi yerself," Sarah said, feeling her stomach muscles tighten just a bit at the soothing sound of his voice.
He pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket and began to wipe his face and neck as he introduced himself.
"Names Bly, like the Captain. Johnny Bly, and I was only a Sergeant, not a Captain."
"Well Sergeant Bly, My names Sarah Haskell, what can I do for ya? You lost?"
Bly smiled, and Sarah felt a slight quiver deep insider he as he answered.
"No, Ma'am, I'm not lost. I'm headed for Opelaka, but I've gotten myself in a bit of a fix. This motorcycle of mine broke down a few days ago, and fixing her took up most of my reserve money. I was sorta wondering if you might have some day work I could do. To get myself a meal and, if you're able, two bits for some fuel to get me a little further on my way."
Sarah thought a moment, she wasn't in the habit of enabling Hobos and the like, but for some reason she didn't want to tell Sergeant Bly to go just yet either.
"I've got some wood needs choppin' and a few other chores you can do," She said finally, "That'll get you a hot meal, some coffee, and an overnight grub for your trip. We'll see about that two bits though, may need to wait till my Leon comes in from the field about that."
"Thank you Mrs..."
"Sarah'll be fine," She said, "Now if you don't mind, that wood is over't the other side of the house there. I've got a few chores of my own need tendin' right now."
"Yes Ma'am," was Bly's only reply as he headed for the wood pile.
As she headed to the barn to turn the chickens out she stopped at the door and turned to watch Bly.
He was standing at the water trough in front of the house rinsing his face and neck and Sarah grinned to herself as she watched him.
Back inside the house, Sarah began fixing lunch. Leon and their two boys had taken their buckets with them to the field early this morning, but there was enough of last night's stew left for her and Sergeant Bly to share.
She set it near the stove to warm as she made biscuits and fried a plate of apple pies.
She listened to the steady rhythm of the axe biting into the dry wood and occasionally stole a look out the window at the Sergeant. Then she would look away and ask herself why she hadn't just sent this man on his way, as she had always done before.
Sarah ladled the warm stew over a couple hot biscuits, added two pies and a pot of fresh coffee to the tray and carried them out on the back porch.
Bly had been splitting wood with a smooth, constant motion for nearly two hours.
"Lunchtime Sergeant," Sarah said as she rounded the corner and suddenly stopped.
Bly had stripped to the waist in the hot Southern sun and his exposed body was deeply tanned, well muscled, and glistening with beads of sweat that made Sarah's breath catch in her throat and he knees a little rubbery.
Bly stood up and smiled at her, "Thank you Mrs. Sarah, if you'll allow me a second to clean up, I hope you'll join me."
Sarah smiled back at him, "I wouldn't be much of a hostess if I made company eat alone now would I Sergeant?"
"No Ma'am I guess you wouldn't," Bly said as he gathered his shirt and headed back to the water trough to clean up and redress.
Sarah set the tray on a stump in the shade of the house. And though she tried to convince herself she was absently picking up the sparse, dusty yard, she kept stealing glances at Bly as he washed the sweat from his chiseled body, and she felt her heart quicken.
Finally, Bly returned and the two sat in the shade to eat and make small talk.
Bly was traveling to meet an old army friend who had promised him a partnership in a sawmill operation he'd begun.
It was the first real opportunity to come his way since leaving the army in '21, almost four years ago.
Sarah spoke mostly of the farm, the people in town, or from church. All things Bly had no reason to have any interest in, but he listened intently just the same and Sarah found herself enjoying the chance to speak with someone who actually engaged her in conversation.
After one humorous exchange about the antics of one of Sarah's fellow church members, both were laughing pleasantly and Sarah suddenly found her hand on Bly's knee. Almost before she realized she'd done it, she had squeezed it lightly, feeling the muscles of his leg and rubbing slowly about half-way up his thigh before coming to her senses with a shock and quickly pulling her hand away and standing up.
Bly sat silently, sipping the last of his coffee and looking up at Sarah.
"I've got to get the afternoon milking done Sergeant," She said curtly, "If you would please just collect the dishes and set them on the porch I will carry them in the house shortly."
"Yes ma'am," Bly said as Sarah set out for the barn at an almost hurried pace. Her mind was such a swirl that she never ever recognized that he'd called after her.
Once in the barn, Sarah closed the door and tried to catch her breath.
