Love is a Stranger (a work in progress)

Here is a short story I started working on several months ago.

"Love is a Stranger"

Mrs. William Schaeffer was in the garden weeding when the man approached from the field. The day was hot and the whistle of the noon train still echoed in her mind's ear. The man came from the direction of the depot. As he drew nearer, she stood and wiped the grimy sweat from her brow.

The man walked as though he carried a great weight, but he carried nothing. Seeing Mrs. Schaeffer, he bent his the trajectory of his walk toward her like a stone falling back to earth, his face hungry, like a child's face when it sees its mother. His clothing bore the dust of many roads.

Seeing him, Mrs. Schaeffer thought that he looked a sad figure. He seemed smaller than he was, as though the weight of life on the road had shrunk him into something smaller than he was meant to be. Thinking of life on the road, she remembered her husband and felt her heart stiffen. The man was a bum. There was no point in romanticizing him out of proportion. She bent back to her work.

A few minutes later, the man was at the fence. He drew his worn hat from his head and coughed to get her attention. Mrs. Schaeffer lingered a moment longer at her work, then stood and said, with steel in her voice, "What?" Her eyes met his and she saw that they were clear, but tired. So he was human, she thought to herself, and not just another dog from the road.

"Excuse me, ma'am, I'm looking for work. If you have something for me to do, I'd be much obliged." He spoke softly, but it was clear that his voice had once been strong. She looked at him a moment longer, then looked away. She wondered if her William wasn't somewhere, hat in hand.

"Well, there is the garden to be weeded. If you'll do that, I'll make you lunch; I'm a widow, though, so I can't pay more than that." She looked at him again, the steel back in her heart.

"That suits me fine." The man said, and he took off his coat and came through the gate.

After he'd gotten started, Mrs. Schaeffer gathered some of the riper vegetables and went into the house. The kitchen had a big picture window that looked out over the garden. She washed the vegetables in a basin and watched the man working. He made steady progress. After a time, he paused, removed his hat, and wiped the sweat from his brow with the sleeve of his shirt. He stood for a moment, then stretched his back, and bent back down to his weeding.

Mrs. Schaeffer thought of her father. How he had loved to farm! She remembered him tall and strong, glistening with sweat and coated with a fine covering of soil, smiling as he raised the glass of cold water she'd brought him from the house. Men these days were weak, dry as tumbleweeds. They rolled where the wind took them and didn't know what it meant to have roots.

And that is as far as I've gotten.

The general gist of the story is that the main character, Mrs. Schaeffer, meets a stanger, a drifter who reminds her of her husband, a man who has also turned to the road and who she resents. At the same time, the drifter reminds her of her father, the first man she loved and admired. The drifter stays on to help her out and eventually she comes to love him. After he moves on, her husband returns and, thanks to the thawing in her heart brought on by her experience with the drifter, she is able to see him in a new light and love and accept him again.

Now, if I can just find some free time, maybe I will finish it.