Asha

It had been two days Since Colton injured his shoulder. Asha had meant to drive over and check on him but she had been so busy working with the newest animals on the farm that she didn’t have time. Colton was also busy out in the fields. He likely wouldn’t be at home anyway. Asha knew she could find him in the night, if she wanted to. And part of her did. But part of her resisted, trying to firm her resolve to find the courage to do what was right.

Ginny Roberts was one of Asha’s closest friends. The woman had lived on Asha’s farm for years and years. Her two sons used to farm for Asha’s father but they had long since found wives and moved away to have their own families. Ginny had stayed on, living in a small house, little more than a cabin, on Asha’s land. She was too old to help care for the animals or do the manual labour on the farm but she was a huge help to Asha in the garden. The woman could make anything grow.

It was Ginny’s preserves and canning that were a huge hit at Roseland General. She also supplied the store with baking and treats to die for as well as crocheted tea towels, dish cloths, slippers, baby blankets and little animals.

Ginny was like the grandmother Asha never had. Her mother’s parents had passed away before she was born as well as her paternal grandmother. Her dad’s dad died when she was four and she didn’t have many memories. It was Ginny who had been there for Asha after her parents died and when she had been faced with the prospect of raising and caring for her little sister.

Ginny’s door was always open. Asha had come to count on the welcoming cup of tea. She’d never heard the woman utter an unkind word about anyone.

Asha felt guilty about not having had time to visit Ginny these last couple of days. She desperately needed some of the older woman’s wise advice.

As always, Asha was welcome inside and offered a cup of tea though the day promised to be another scorcher. She waited for Ginny to have a seat before she got right down to what was truly bothering her.

“You don’t have to say anything dear.” Ginny smiled, revealing nearly toothless gums. Her white hair stood out on end. It was cut short and the humidity of the day made it unruly. It only leant to the overall cuteness that Ginny always had. It was strange, how really old people sometimes looked almost young. “I know you’re worried about Colton.”

Asha started. “What?”

Ginny grinned. “Don’t look so shocked. I know about the two of you.”

“How?”

The older woman’s dark eyes shone with amusement. Her smile turned her face into a mass of wrinkles. Asha loved that smile. She loved everything about Ginny. It was true, that saying that stated good things came in small packages. Ginny wasn’t taller than five feet but she contained all the love in the world. “Does it matter how I know?”

“I guess not,” Asha admitted. She took a sip of peppermint tea.

“It’s the way you talk about him. I can see how your eyes light up. You get this far away look and then the shutters come in place. I know that you’re fighting what you feel. I know how hard this world has been for you. Losing your parents, raising your sister, looking after everything and everyone here. It’s a lot of responsibility for one so young.”

“I don’t feel young anymore.”

Ginny’s head bobbed in agreement. “My point exactly. You’ve had so much to deal with for so long that it’s not a wonder you can’t take time to just feel. Or that you don’t want to.”

Asha sighed. There wasn’t any point in trying to explain everything to Ginny. She just got it. She somehow managed to put into words what Asha had been struggling for so long to explain to herself.

“I just don’t know what to do about Colt anymore,” Asha whispered. “I feel like I should let him move on and be with someone else, or that I should try and be what he wants.”

“Which is?” Ginny raised a white brow, waiting.

“A wife,” Asha breathed. The word hung between them for a minute. “I just want things to stay the same,” Asha said morosely, realizing she sounded like a lost child.

“And does Colton?”

“No. He would never say so but I can tell. He’s lonely. He deserves better than what I’m giving him. I’m afraid… I’m afraid of what will happen if I allow myself to try and be what he needs. I don’t even know what love means. I’m afraid of getting hurt, but I’m also afraid of letting him go, which I know is so selfish. He’s a good friend and his help with the farm has been beyond value. He’s always stuck by me… I don’t even know what life would look like without him in it.”

“I think Colton would be fine. He’s a big boy. If he understood what your reasons were behind ending it, I think he would forgive you.”

Asha wasn’t so sure. “I don’t want to hurt him, but I realize now that’s what I’m doing every single time I’m with him.”

“You have to do what you think is best,” Ginny said softly.

“I have no idea what is best,” Asha moaned. “I’m so confused.” She crossed her hands in her lap and studied them intently. When she finally looked up, Ginny’s eyes were trained on her face. They were full of love and compassion.

“Some things aren’t easy, Asha. Some things are very difficult and require a lot of thought.”

“I know.” She finished her cup of tea and pushed back from the table with a forced smile. “Thanks for this, Ginny. I needed to talk to someone.”

Ginny’s smile was as sad as her own. “I’m not sure I helped at all.”

“It helps that you’re here. I love you,” Asha whispered. She didn’t think she’d ever said those words before to anyone other than her parents and to Katelyn. She didn’t say them enough. That’s the real problem.

Ginny’s eyes misted up. Asha pulled the elderly woman in for a tight hug. Surprisingly the words hadn’t hurt her. They hadn’t caused part of her to shatter. She hadn’t lost anything by saying them. No, if anything, she’d gained the entire world.

Asha left, promising to visit again soon. Her thoughts were even more jumbled than ever. She didn’t like the pain in her heart, the bleeding out that she couldn’t seem to stem. She hadn’t felt this way since her parents died. She’d been so careful not to and now, all her walls were crumbling. She couldn’t even say what it was. She just knew that she had to do something. It seemed whatever direction she turned someone was going to get hurt. Herself or Colton. Probably both. She didn’t relish the prospect of more grief. That was the whole problem. Ginny was right. She’d already lived with more grief than she’d been able to handle.