I hope he hasn’t stopped working because the thought of him putting himself out for me when he’s already done so much makes me feel crummy.

“From home.” Mack goes back to studying the small growing root.

“Can I help do something? Like, dig a hole for more seeds, maybe?” I ask, after scanning the ground and noting more unopened seed packets.

Mack’s frown warns me what his answer will be.

“Please? It’s only my ankle that hurts now, and only when I put pressure on it. I’m sure it wouldn’t hurt to kneel. And I’ll still be resting it, which is what Adela wanted.”

When he looks poised to...