He finally got the hole big enough and put the tree in it. Kneeling, he tested the soil near the bottom and found it still held some moisture.
“Get a bucket of water,” he told Holly. “Just flip the switch on the side of the pump and it’ll start coming. There’s a bucket in the shed.”
She hopped to obey. It occurred to him he might have to prime the pump, so he was checking it out as she returned.
“Okay, it’s ready. Put the bucket under the spout, hook it here.” Like all good pumps, it had a nipple to hold a bucket handle. He showed her how to turn it on, then waited with her while it filled.
“There you go.”
To his surprise, she lifted the five-gallon bucket and with both hands carried it over to the tree. Layer by layer, they watered lightly and refilled the hole. When he was done, he ridged the dirt in a ring around the tree. “Now fill this ring and just let it soak in. You’ll probably need to do that every day.”
He pulled off his work gloves, leaving her to it, and put the spade away. When he returned from the shed, he found her standing with an empty bucket, staring into space.
“Is something wrong?” he asked.
“It’s just so peaceful out here. I wish some of my kids could experience life like this, even if only for a short time.”
Then he said the stupidest, most idiotic words to ever cross his lips. “So why don’t you bring some of them out here?”
She looked at him then. Really looked at him, her blue eyes wide and almost wondering. His groin throbbed a warning. Had he really just suggested she come back here?
Man, he needed to finish up and get out of here now.
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