can take one with you.”
“C-c-can we make—make c-c-c-cookies?” Lori Ann asked, her mouth full of French toast.
“Of course, I’ll be glad to make cookies with you,” Anna said, “but I can’t let you paint the bedroom, Samuel. That’s my job, and—”
“Ne.” Samuel raised a broad hand. “It’s settled. You’ll be doing me a real favor. What with the bad weather and being stuck in the house, my ears are ringing from the chatter these three make. Having you bake with them will be a treat for them and a nice change for me. Besides …” He grinned as he used the corner of a napkin to wipe the syrup off Lori Ann’s chin. “Maybe I’ll even get to take some cookies home for the twins.”
Anna sighed, gracefully giving up the battle. “If you insist, Samuel. I have to admit, I much prefer baking to painting, and I won’t have to climb back up on a ladder to do it.”
“Nobody’s getting back on that ladder until I’ve had a chance to repair it,” he said. “I brought another one in the back of the buggy.” He rose from the table and rubbed his stomach. “Great breakfast. Best I’ve had in months.”
What a good man he is, Anna thought, as she watched Samuel put on his coat to go outside for the ladder. And he’s a good father. Mam would be lucky to have him for a husband. Any woman would. Having him here at the table, enjoying a meal together like a family, had been wonderful, but she had to remember who Samuel was and who she was.
“Potty,” Mae said loudly. “I haf’ to go potty. Now!”
“Susanna, could you take her?” Anna asked. “And if you two would wash your hands and help me clear away the breakfast dishes, I’ll get Mam’s recipe book.”
“I can read the ingredients,” Naomi offered. “I like to read.”
“What we need to do is find aprons just the right size for Lori Ann and Mae,” Anna mused.
Now that Samuel had left the kitchen, she felt more at ease with the girls. She and Samuel’s daughters would bake cookies, biscuits and maybe even a few pies. And while the oven was hot, she could pop a couple of chickens in the back to roast for the noonday meal. It would take hours for Samuel to finish the bedroom walls, and all that work would make him hungry again. She began to calculate what would go best with the chicken, and how to keep the little ones amused while she taught Naomi the trick to making good buttermilk biscuits.
As Samuel crossed the porch, he could hear Anna talking to his girls. She had an easy way with them, and Naomi liked her, he could tell. It wasn’t fair that Naomi had had to take on so many household chores since her mother had passed. If Anna agreed to marry him, Naomi could be a child again for a few years.
Maybe he’d been selfish, waiting so long to look for a wife again. He knew there were plenty who would have taken him up on an offer, but it was important that his new partner be able to love his children and teach them. It would take a special woman to fill that role, and he couldn’t think of a better one than Anna Yoder, even if she was shy about giving him an answer.
He went down the steps, into the icy yard. They’d gotten off on the wrong foot yesterday, but despite the burned biscuits, today seemed different. Sitting at the table with Anna, seeing how kind she was to Mae, Lori Ann and Naomi, he wanted to court her all that much more. He was glad he’d worked up the nerve to come this morning.
Even though Anna hadn’t said anything about the courting, she hadn’t shut the door in his face. That was a good sign, wasn’t it? Maybe she wanted more time to think about it. It was a big decision, taking on him and his family.
He paused beside the buggy and closed his eyes, breathing deeply of the cold air, letting the wet snowflakes pat against his face and lodge in his beard. He knew a father had to put his children’s welfare first, but the memory of the way Anna had felt when he put his arm around her made his throat tighten and his pulse race. How good she’d felt! And she’d smelled even better, all hot biscuits, honey and, oddly, a hint of apple blossom.
She had pretty hair, Anna did, and he couldn’t help wondering how long it was. Those little curls around her face meant that it would be wavy, even when she brushed it out. Anna was a respectable woman, a faithful member of the church, and it would be wrong to think of her in any way that wasn’t honorable. An Amish woman covered her hair in public and let it down only in the privacy of her home … for her husband to see.
He swallowed, imagining what it would be like to touch those red-gold strands of hair, to watch her brush it out at the end of the day, to have the right to be her protector and partner.
The sound of the porch door opening behind him jerked him from his reverie. “Samuel? Do you need help with the ladder?”
He chuckled, glanced back over his shoulder and shook his head. “Ne, Anna. It’s not heavy. I can get it.” He looked at the gray sky. “But I’ll put it on the porch and take the horse to the barn. It’s too nasty a day to leave him tied outside.”
“Turn him into the empty box stall,” she called. “And throw down some hay for him.”
“Ya,” Samuel agreed, smiling at her.
He was rewarded with a smile so sweet that he was all the more certain that he and Anna were meant to be man and wife. The only thing standing in his way was Anna.
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