man.”
Through the lace curtains in the parlor window, Callie watched Mr. Smith climb the porch steps. A strong, handsome…drifter. Her breath caught. Footloose described Jacob Smith. She’d remember that. Both she and Elise had learned they could be fooled by a man.
Elise rose and tugged Callie to her feet, hugging her or trying to, but her round belly got in the way. They both laughed, easing the tension.
A half hour later, they headed out the door with Elise showing no sign of a limp. Elise looked pretty with her auburn hair swept into a French twist, her shawl pinned in place with a lovely old broach, a keepsake from Callie’s Aunt Hilda. Nothing would disguise the girl’s advanced pregnancy, but the shawl softened her silhouette.
Jacob Smith rounded the back of the house, tools dangling from his belt and slapping against his denims. He might be a drifter, but she appreciated his help. Goodness, the man never stopped. How long could he keep up the hectic pace?
He tipped his hat. “Afternoon, ladies.”
His eyes locked with Callie’s, his eyes pools of jade she felt she’d drown in. When had green become her favorite color? Even though she didn’t trust him, her feet had a life all their own and brought her closer.
At the sound of Elise’s giggle, Callie gathered her wits about her. “Tomorrow’s the Lord’s Day. You’ve earned your rest, Jacob,” she said unable to look away from the intensity of his gaze. “If you’re looking for a place to worship, church service begins at ten o’clock.”
His full lips thinned, turned mulish. “Thanks, but I plan on sleeping late tomorrow.”
“If God changes your mind about that, we’re having a potluck after service. It’s your chance to eat food prepared by the best cooks in town.”
“Can’t see how anyone could improve on your cooking.”
The warmth of Jacob’s regard spilled into the empty places inside her. “If you’re aiming for larger portions, you’re succeeding.”
Chuckling, he bounded onto the porch and got back to work. He’d accomplished a great deal. Only a few boards needed replacing. Strange how quickly she’d gotten used to having him around the place. His long strides, the noise of saw and hammer, the scent of soap on his skin after washing up at the pump. An image of damp hair curling at Jacob’s nape filled her traitorous mind. She shivered and quickly said goodbye.
As Callie and Elise strolled along at a snail’s pace, Mildred Uland’s cocker spaniel trotted over for a pat until a squirrel captured his attention. He sped after it, chasing it up a tree. “Sandy’s feeling feisty this afternoon. Maybe we could use him to round up Mr. Smith for services.”
Her attempt at humor fell on deaf ears. Apparently, Elise had her mind elsewhere, probably missing her parents. For all her bravado, Elise loved her father.
Lord, Elise and her father are hurting. Please heal their wounds.
God controlled the outcome. He loved them all and in time would bring them peace. With that assurance, Callie filled her lungs with the soft afternoon air, listening to the chirping birds.
“Only three weeks until the baby comes,” Elise said in a wobbly voice. “Oh, Callie, I’m scared.”
“I am, too, a little.” Callie smiled with as much assurance as she could muster. “Just think, by the time my baby arrives you’ll be giving me advice.”
“I can’t imagine that.” Elise laid a hand on her abdomen. “The way this baby’s doing somersaults, it has to be a boy.”
“So what do girls do while waiting to be born? Read?”
“Silly.” Elise giggled. “They knit.”
Laughing, they turned onto Liberty toward Doctor Wellman’s office, a couple blocks down.
Up ahead, Lowell and Naomi Burch stepped outside the door of the First National Bank. As the bank’s president, Mr. Burch had power and influence in town. His wife always wore the latest fashions. Naomi adjusted the skirts of her gown, the jet beads catching the light,
Through the lace curtains in the parlor window, Callie watched Mr. Smith climb the porch steps. A strong, handsome…drifter. Her breath caught. Footloose described Jacob Smith. She’d remember that. Both she and Elise had learned they could be fooled by a man.
Elise rose and tugged Callie to her feet, hugging her or trying to, but her round belly got in the way. They both laughed, easing the tension.
A half hour later, they headed out the door with Elise showing no sign of a limp. Elise looked pretty with her auburn hair swept into a French twist, her shawl pinned in place with a lovely old broach, a keepsake from Callie’s Aunt Hilda. Nothing would disguise the girl’s advanced pregnancy, but the shawl softened her silhouette.
Jacob Smith rounded the back of the house, tools dangling from his belt and slapping against his denims. He might be a drifter, but she appreciated his help. Goodness, the man never stopped. How long could he keep up the hectic pace?
He tipped his hat. “Afternoon, ladies.”
His eyes locked with Callie’s, his eyes pools of jade she felt she’d drown in. When had green become her favorite color? Even though she didn’t trust him, her feet had a life all their own and brought her closer.
At the sound of Elise’s giggle, Callie gathered her wits about her. “Tomorrow’s the Lord’s Day. You’ve earned your rest, Jacob,” she said unable to look away from the intensity of his gaze. “If you’re looking for a place to worship, church service begins at ten o’clock.”
His full lips thinned, turned mulish. “Thanks, but I plan on sleeping late tomorrow.”
“If God changes your mind about that, we’re having a potluck after service. It’s your chance to eat food prepared by the best cooks in town.”
“Can’t see how anyone could improve on your cooking.”
The warmth of Jacob’s regard spilled into the empty places inside her. “If you’re aiming for larger portions, you’re succeeding.”
Chuckling, he bounded onto the porch and got back to work. He’d accomplished a great deal. Only a few boards needed replacing. Strange how quickly she’d gotten used to having him around the place. His long strides, the noise of saw and hammer, the scent of soap on his skin after washing up at the pump. An image of damp hair curling at Jacob’s nape filled her traitorous mind. She shivered and quickly said goodbye.
As Callie and Elise strolled along at a snail’s pace, Mildred Uland’s cocker spaniel trotted over for a pat until a squirrel captured his attention. He sped after it, chasing it up a tree. “Sandy’s feeling feisty this afternoon. Maybe we could use him to round up Mr. Smith for services.”
Her attempt at humor fell on deaf ears. Apparently, Elise had her mind elsewhere, probably missing her parents. For all her bravado, Elise loved her father.
Lord, Elise and her father are hurting. Please heal their wounds.
God controlled the outcome. He loved them all and in time would bring them peace. With that assurance, Callie filled her lungs with the soft afternoon air, listening to the chirping birds.
“Only three weeks until the baby comes,” Elise said in a wobbly voice. “Oh, Callie, I’m scared.”
“I am, too, a little.” Callie smiled with as much assurance as she could muster. “Just think, by the time my baby arrives you’ll be giving me advice.”
“I can’t imagine that.” Elise laid a hand on her abdomen. “The way this baby’s doing somersaults, it has to be a boy.”
“So what do girls do while waiting to be born? Read?”
“Silly.” Elise giggled. “They knit.”
Laughing, they turned onto Liberty toward Doctor Wellman’s office, a couple blocks down.
Up ahead, Lowell and Naomi Burch stepped outside the door of the First National Bank. As the bank’s president, Mr. Burch had power and influence in town. His wife always wore the latest fashions. Naomi adjusted the skirts of her gown, the jet beads catching the light,
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