Read Online When Grace Sings by Kim Vogel Sawyer - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Kim Vogel Sawyer
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up on that. Especially now with a long-term guest in place, I’ll probably need a few more recipes so he doesn’t get tired of the same things morning after morning.”
“Mother said you put him in your apartment.”
Alexa already missed the privacy the little summer-kitchen-turned-cottage had given her, but it seemed awkward to have him in the house with Grandmother, even if they did have a nurse come in at night. “Yes. I moved into one of the guest rooms.”
“What happens if you get enough reservations to fill all three guest rooms?”
All three rooms filled would be a blessing, but she didn’t expect to be that busy until spring. She shrugged. “I’ll just camp in with Grandmother for a night or two. We’ll make do.”
“It’s nice you had a place to house a long-term guest,” Sandra said. “Of course, eating your good cooking every day for three months, he just might decide to propose by the time he’s supposed to leave.”
Alexa cringed. “Oh, I hope not.”
Sandra burst out laughing. The lump in her lap jerked, and one little arm flung itself from beneath the blanket. Complaining whimpers followed. Alexa averted her eyes as Sandra whisked away the blanket and situated Isabella again. When she draped the blanket back in place, she said, her tone teasing, “What’s the matter? Don’t you like the hunka-hunka gorgeous type?”
Alexa gawked at her aunt. “Sandra!”
Sandra’s entire body vibrated with suppressed laughter for several seconds, making the mattress bounce. She patted what Alexa presumed was Isabella’s bottom based on the location of the lump and shook her head. Her twinkling eyes and teasing grin didn’t match the mesh cap with its trailing ribbons. “What? I might be a wife and mother, but I still have eyes in my head. A crosseyed person couldn’t help but notice how good-looking the reporter from Chicago is. Even Mother said so.”
The heat that often plagued her when Briley Forrester aimed his amazingly handsome, rich molasses gaze in her direction filled Alexa’s face again. She whacked at the pie with her fork, her head low. “You’re right. He is good looking.”
Sandra snickered. “Thought so.”
Alexa set her desecrated pie aside and turned a serious look on Sandra. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.” Sandra went back to eating her pie, her expression devoid of teasing.
“How old were you when you got married?”
“Nineteen. Same as Shelley. Same as Tanya when she married Clete.”
An image of Steven Brungardt’s sober, uncertain face flashed in Alexa’s memory. “Did you marry because you wanted to, or because it was expected?”
“Because I wanted to, of course.” Sandra tipped her head, the ribbon from her cap puddling on the bump created by Isabella’s little head. A hint of worry glimmered in her eyes. “Are you wondering if you’re old enough for courtship?”
Alexa shook her head firmly. “No. I’m wondering why I’m not interested.”
Sandra turned her back for a moment, bringing Isabella from beneath the blanket. She adjusted her clothing, then tipped the baby over her shoulder. Facing Alexa again, she gently patted Isabella’s back, the last few bites of her pie apparently forgotten. “Maybe you just haven’t met anyone yet who makes you want to consider marriage.” Sandra spoke, her voice low. “I was only sixteen when I met Derek, but I knew from the first time he and I spent an hour together that I wanted to be his wife. I felt … safe with him.”
“Sixteen …” Alexa propped her hands on her knees and chewed the inside of her cheek. “Wow. That was awfully young.”
Sandra smiled. “I suppose so. But you have to remember, Alexa, around here sixteen is different than sixteen in most places. In the Old Order community, by sixteen you’ve been out of school for two years already, you’ve learned all you need to know about maintaining a household, and you’ve spent some time at a job either in your
“Mother said you put him in your apartment.”
Alexa already missed the privacy the little summer-kitchen-turned-cottage had given her, but it seemed awkward to have him in the house with Grandmother, even if they did have a nurse come in at night. “Yes. I moved into one of the guest rooms.”
“What happens if you get enough reservations to fill all three guest rooms?”
All three rooms filled would be a blessing, but she didn’t expect to be that busy until spring. She shrugged. “I’ll just camp in with Grandmother for a night or two. We’ll make do.”
“It’s nice you had a place to house a long-term guest,” Sandra said. “Of course, eating your good cooking every day for three months, he just might decide to propose by the time he’s supposed to leave.”
Alexa cringed. “Oh, I hope not.”
Sandra burst out laughing. The lump in her lap jerked, and one little arm flung itself from beneath the blanket. Complaining whimpers followed. Alexa averted her eyes as Sandra whisked away the blanket and situated Isabella again. When she draped the blanket back in place, she said, her tone teasing, “What’s the matter? Don’t you like the hunka-hunka gorgeous type?”
Alexa gawked at her aunt. “Sandra!”
Sandra’s entire body vibrated with suppressed laughter for several seconds, making the mattress bounce. She patted what Alexa presumed was Isabella’s bottom based on the location of the lump and shook her head. Her twinkling eyes and teasing grin didn’t match the mesh cap with its trailing ribbons. “What? I might be a wife and mother, but I still have eyes in my head. A crosseyed person couldn’t help but notice how good-looking the reporter from Chicago is. Even Mother said so.”
The heat that often plagued her when Briley Forrester aimed his amazingly handsome, rich molasses gaze in her direction filled Alexa’s face again. She whacked at the pie with her fork, her head low. “You’re right. He is good looking.”
Sandra snickered. “Thought so.”
Alexa set her desecrated pie aside and turned a serious look on Sandra. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.” Sandra went back to eating her pie, her expression devoid of teasing.
“How old were you when you got married?”
“Nineteen. Same as Shelley. Same as Tanya when she married Clete.”
An image of Steven Brungardt’s sober, uncertain face flashed in Alexa’s memory. “Did you marry because you wanted to, or because it was expected?”
“Because I wanted to, of course.” Sandra tipped her head, the ribbon from her cap puddling on the bump created by Isabella’s little head. A hint of worry glimmered in her eyes. “Are you wondering if you’re old enough for courtship?”
Alexa shook her head firmly. “No. I’m wondering why I’m not interested.”
Sandra turned her back for a moment, bringing Isabella from beneath the blanket. She adjusted her clothing, then tipped the baby over her shoulder. Facing Alexa again, she gently patted Isabella’s back, the last few bites of her pie apparently forgotten. “Maybe you just haven’t met anyone yet who makes you want to consider marriage.” Sandra spoke, her voice low. “I was only sixteen when I met Derek, but I knew from the first time he and I spent an hour together that I wanted to be his wife. I felt … safe with him.”
“Sixteen …” Alexa propped her hands on her knees and chewed the inside of her cheek. “Wow. That was awfully young.”
Sandra smiled. “I suppose so. But you have to remember, Alexa, around here sixteen is different than sixteen in most places. In the Old Order community, by sixteen you’ve been out of school for two years already, you’ve learned all you need to know about maintaining a household, and you’ve spent some time at a job either in your
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