Loving Thy Neighbor. Ruth Scofield

her gaze. Really? He was a deacon at this church? Oh, great! Why didn’t that surprise her? Of all her luck, she’d found a church she liked on the first try, and the judge was a deacon there. Was this a conspiracy to keep her under his watchful eye or something?

      “That’s kind of you, but not this time, thank you.” She took Kerri’s hand. “Come on, kids. Let’s be on our way.”

      “See you later, Hap,” Kerri said, letting go her hold on the judge. A tiny dimple appeared beside her mouth, worthy of Shirley Temple. “Can we come over and help in your garden today?”

      “Um, I suppose so.” His lightning glance surveyed Quincee’s face. “Sure,” he said with more force. “I’ll, um, probably be out this afternoon. Just wait, all right?”

      They were halfway home when Hamilton’s sleek, dark sedan rolled to a stop at the curb beside them. “Why didn’t you wait? Get in, I’ll take you the rest of the way home.”

      “Thank you, but we’re fine.” Quincee kept a firm hand on Kerri and continued walking. Kyle marched a few yards ahead, dragging a large stick he’d picked up along the way. He dodged to the right, bounding at an overhanging limb.

      “Kyle,” she protested.

      Kyle pretended he didn’t hear her. Instead, he grabbed hold and swung in a Tarzan leap, landing miraculously on both feet. Quincee let out a sigh.

      “I can have you home in three minutes,” Hap said. “It’s already hot out here.”

      “No, thank you.” She tried to avoid raising her nose into the air or sounding self-sacrificingly superior or anything, but she just thought he needn’t have any further chances to oversee her life.

      She didn’t want to be owing him any favors, either. Not unless they had a firm understanding about a barter exchange. Beside, it didn’t hurt for the judge to realize how doing without a car changed one’s daily perspective. She only wished he could experience it firsthand rather than by observation. “We are enjoying the walk.”

      “Suit yourself.” He pulled away, his expression set.

      Now she’d really insulted him, Quincee supposed. She hadn’t intended to offend him—well, only a little. But she had wanted to exert her independence.

      Hamilton drove home determined he’d be wasting his time to offer any further assistance to that obstinate bit of fluff living next door. What in the world had he been thinking to even try? Hadn’t his position taught him that doing the Good Samaritan routine was wasted on most people these days? But her stubborn little chin and huge blue eyes somehow stirred his emotions.

      Careful, Hamilton! She’s a single mother with no evidence of having more sense than God gave a goose. She’ll suck you in with saucy smiles and empty promises if you’re not prudent, and spit you out like an unwanted core.

      He hadn’t much patience with the women of his generation. Like his late grandfather, he thought too many were irresponsible and careless in the extreme, never far from disaster because they acted without much care for the future. His mother had been one of those flibbertigibbets. But in all honesty, he couldn’t say much for his father, either.

      Uncomfortable with where those thoughts always took him, Hamilton forced his hands to relax on the wheel.

      Quincee Davis seemed to fit that box of foolish woman to perfection. How could she have moved into that shambles of a house next door expecting to raise two children there alone? With all the work it needed to make it truly livable? It could have been bulldozed to the ground for all he cared. The neighborhood would look much neater without it.

      Furthermore, he’d noticed that the young woman expected to do everything herself. He didn’t exactly approve of single women declaring they didn’t need a man. He was old-fashioned, he supposed, but it took two people to make those children, and although he’d been raised by his grandfather alone, he really thought children should have two parents if at all possible. Where was the children’s father, anyway?

      Hamilton parked his car, pulling it into his detached oversize garage with its neat workbench in the rear. His grandfather’s old dark blue sedan still occupied the second half. He supposed it was time to sell it. His granddad had been gone nearly two years.

      He’d returned to this house after years in an inner city apartment with all the mixed emotions of any inheritance, he supposed. After the age of five, he’d been raised in this house. He missed his grandfather, and the longer he continued to live here, the more he felt it was his rightful place. He was a man born too late for his time, he supposed.

      But what had he ever done to deserve Quincee Davis as a neighbor? He was still figuring that out. Her refusal of a ride wasn’t the end of the world, but he couldn’t help feeling ruffled over the woman’s insistence of having the last word in their conversations. Each and every time.

      Stubborn woman! She liked having her own way and she certainly learned her lessons the hard way.

      Thinking about her made his shoulders twitch. Quincee was one sassy woman. Her strawberry hair fit her. In his opinion, she needed far more help than she’d admit. Yes, she certainly was obstinate enough to learn her lessons the hard way.

      And he’d just let her, by gum. He just would. Whatever compassion he’d been tempted to feel on the children’s behalf was best kept to his side of the hedge.

      He’d find it convenient to work outdoors for a time this afternoon. The tykes weren’t nearly as annoying as he’d first thought them. They only needed a firm hand, and for some reason they liked him. The legal work he’d brought home to study could wait until evening.

      He shut his car door firmly, and then his garage, before unlocking the back door of his silent house. Only the muted sounds of a slight breeze welcomed him home.

      Quincee, on her side of the hedge, filled her afternoon with sorting through the last of the summer clothes they’d hurriedly stuffed into chests when unpacking. She flattened and hauled the last cardboard boxes to the trash bin, then cast a half-envious gaze over the side yard. She hadn’t been invited to join the garden party, but there was no reason she couldn’t wander over to see how the three of them were doing, was there?

      The judge’s vegetable garden took up a huge section of his backyard opposite the property line they shared. She half crawled through the hedge opening the children used, and went to find them.

      “Now see this?” Hamilton spoke as she came around the corner. Three rounded backs huddled over a row of leaf lettuce. “That pesky rabbit has eaten more than his share of my lettuce. So we’ll just place this fence around the edges of the garden like this.”

      He picked up a section of meshed wire with long stake wires and pushed it into the soft earth.

      “When will the lettuce be ready for people?” Kyle asked.

      “Actually, this is the last of it for this year. I’ve had many salads from this crop already, so I’d be happy to share the rest. Would you like to have some?”

      “I guess so,” Kyle replied in a dubious tone.

      “The last of these snap peas should be good, too. If we leave them any longer, they’ll be tough. Why don’t you fill that old bucket with them and take them home?”

      “Peas? Ugh.” Kyle let his opinion of that particular vegetable be known as he squinted at Hamilton.

      “I like peas,” Kerri declared.

      Quincee caught her breath on a spurt of laughter. Kerri hated peas, but obviously Hap’s approval meant a lot to her.

      “That’s good. I’ll wager you’ll like these, Kyle. They’re fresh and they taste much better than when canned or even frozen.”

      The thought of fresh lettuce and peas made Quincee’s mouth water, but she was proud of Kyle when he asked, “Did we earn it?”

      “You bet. Hand weeding takes