Before Alma got to know Derek, her initial impression of him was shaped by labels like domineering, assertive, heartless, and a scoundrel.
Now, after spending time with him, those labels had transformed into diligent, strong, and robust.
He didn't seem as detestable as she had imagined, especially since he made no effort to hide his love for Tabitha, following her around like a devoted, loving dog. This sincerity led Alma to consider matchmaking for the two.
As a reward for Spike's daily help, Alma personally treated his foot, determined to heal it.
Derek, on the other hand, sat on a stool, husking corn that had just been harvested.
Tabitha enjoyed fresh corn, particularly the sweet and fragrant kind straight from the field.
She sat on a small bridge, her legs swinging as she observed the scene.
Derek's clothes were drenched in sweat, and beads of perspiration dotted his forehead.
After treating Spike, Alma pulled Tabitha aside and whispered, "I think Derek's pretty great. He's completely focused on you. Look at him working tirelessly all morning, not even resting after coming back. He knows you love fresh produce. A man's dedication is what counts. He's wealthy and devoted. Have you really not considered reconciling with him?"
Tabitha raised her hand. Her previously injured hand had fully recovered, scars faded and nearly gone.
"Do you know how much it hurt when the bullet struck here? I'll never forget it. People shouldn't forget their pain once the wound has healed."
"But..." Alma tried to interject.
"There's still time. I'm leaving in a few days. I need to harvest the remaining rice," Tabitha said firmly.
Alma grasped her hand, concern etched in her voice. "You're leaving again?"
"If he won't go, then I must. Don't worry, I'll be back. I miss the kids," Tabitha reassured her.
The village's transportation was simple—carts and horses. Though modest, Tabitha preferred it to the cutthroat life in the big city.
"Have Derek accompany you. It'll be faster with two people," Alma suggested.
Spike couldn't move after his treatment and needed to apply medicine, but Alma, eager to matchmake, left Tabitha no room to refuse.
Tabitha acquiesced, thinking there were only a few days left anyway.
Derek and Tabitha sat side by side in a horse cart. The ride was bumpy, jolting them occasionally.
Derek suddenly chuckled, drawing Tabitha's attention. "What's so funny?" she asked.
"I just find this life interesting. Never imagined we'd end up like this. Such days aren't bad—peaceful and simple. I could see myself spending my whole life here with you, as an ordinary couple," Derek mused.
Tabitha frowned. "But I don't want that."
She had too much left to accomplish, too many enemies to face.
Every time she saw Spike, she was reminded of Joanna's tragic death—a young and vibrant life cut short, her heart offered to others only to meet a grim fate.
Tabitha had meticulously planned for two years, and now her trap was about to close. She would return tenfold what Joanna had suffered!
Every debt would be settled.
Derek merely smiled and murmured, "Consider it my one-sided wish."
At the fields, Tabitha guided Derek to a section of the cornfield. "Harvest this area. I'll come back later to collect it," she instructed.
"Got it," Derek replied.
Derek's eyesight had fully recovered, but he continued to feign blindness in front of Tabitha.
At least this way, he could occasionally hold her hand.
Every time he cut an ear of corn, he'd steal a glance at Tabitha.
Tabitha dressed modestly in the village, yet her work in the fields was efficient and swift.
In no time, she'd harvested a large portion of the rice. Derek marveled at her prowess—she was exceptionally quick to learn and exceptionally good at everything.
Such a genius had nearly wasted her talents because of his past foolishness.
Derek too bent down to work, sweat rolling down his face. After seven hours of labor, his stamina held strong.
Sensing Tabitha approaching, he slowed his pace.
"Take a break and have some water," she said.
"Thanks," Derek replied, setting down his knife and sitting on a pile of cornstalks.
Tabitha had brought water and homemade pastries. She handed him the water flask, and Derek drank heartily, his Adam's apple bobbing rapidly.
Sweat dripped from his face. In the heat, he wore only a shirt with sleeves and pants rolled up, the top three buttons undone.
The intense sunlight highlighted his well-defined arm muscles.
His knife wound, after nearly two weeks, had scabbed over—his healing ability was truly remarkable.
Tabitha had seen many sides of Derek, but this was the first time she witnessed his raw, rustic strength in the fields. Even seated, he was captivating.
His long hair, grown out like a pop idol's, was casually swept back, revealing his sharp, upward-slanting eyebrows.
Such a man, even in the fields, was mesmerizing.
Unable to hold his gaze any longer, Tabitha averted her eyes, planning to finish the task quickly.
A warm breeze blew, and silence fell between them.
In the distance, the cornfield stirred, and two voices carried over, "Let's stop here."