For Your Sake by Elayne Disano Page B

bookshelves.  The floors were also a rich oak and hardly a scratch on them like most of the second floor, probably because the ninety year old lady who once lived here never made it up the stairs in her old age.  It was bare and void of any décor save for the white, lace curtains which covered the windows.  Those were left behind and she could tell by the feel and look of the fabric that it was antique.  Since they were quite clean, she left them up as they made the room less naked until she decided what to do.  Eva had several, viable ideas for this room – an office, a workout room, even a sitting room.
     
                  And, of course, she had one idea which was about as much of a fantasy as this room was when she was a child – a nursery. But she chose this.  She chose to buy a business, break it off with William, buy a home and do it all on her own.  Her mother left, her best friend moved away and her father died.  Given the history of people leaving, it was safer this way.
     
                  Leaving the windows and door open for the day, she headed back downstairs.  Seeing it was almost one, she took a fortifying slug of iced coffee, then checked the contents of the fridge.  She had fixings for a salad and a can of chick peas in the cabinet for protein.  First thing after picking up her car was to go do some grocery shopping.
     
                  She ate quickly then ventured out to the backyard.  It was a good size with the back of her property separated from Mrs. Bachman’s with a picket fence.  A tiny wood shed kitty-cornered one side, flanked by strips of bare dirt for planting.  The other side hosted a full, lush evergreen which she wanted to take down and replace with multi-colored hydrangea bushes.  It was all surrounded by a deep, green lawn which was a product of the abundant rainfall from April to September.  And with fall right around the corner, days would be getting colder and the night’s even moreso.  All the more reason to tackle this next chore herself.
     
                  A half-empty firewood ring stood on the cement walkway with larger chunks of wood strewn about the back.  Eva began to pile pieces which were small enough to carry onto the ring, leaving about ten larger chunks which needed to be chopped.  Inside the shed, she fought through the cobwebs and sorted through rakes, shovels, wheel barrow, unopened bags of mulch and old bottles of weed killer which were probably toxic by now until she found a rusty ax.  She lifted it by the yellow, rubber handle, not prepared for the weight of the implement.  This was going to be interesting.
     
                  Determined, she clamped her left hand halfway up the bottom of the handle, her right hand right where it met the blade and trudged over to the wood, looking like a serial killer in the process.  Not having an old stump to act as a surface, she put a piece of wood on the grass, raised the ax behind her and prepared to swing down.
     
                  “I don’t think so, darlin’.”
                                                                            
                  The ax fell out of her hands at the voice behind her, which is where she found Ben standing at the top of her driveway.  “Are you crazy?”  Her heart was pounding and she most likely pulled a muscle in her hand, but she ignored both at the sight of this biker who had a penchant for sneaking up on her.  “You don’t come up on someone like that – especially when they’re swinging an ax.”
     
                  He gave her a look as if he knew that, which was a little creepy.  “Better startle you than have you take your leg off.”
     
                  He didn’t move from where he stood, much like last night while waiting for her to go back to her car and leave.  And