friends.
“Is it all right?” she asked. When his forehead threaded with bafflement, she added, “The bellows?”
“They seem to be, but I won’t know until I fire the forge.”
“If it’s okay with you, I’ll take the twins home while you do what you need to here.”
“I should show you where—”
“I think I can find my way around a plain kitchen,” she said. She didn’t want him to think she was eager to go, though she was. The fact she’d noticed how handsome he was had alarms ringing in her head. After all, her former fiancé, Lonnie Wickey, had been nice to look at, too.
“I’m sure you can,” he said after she’d urged the kinder to get in her buggy. “But you should know the pilot light on the stove and the oven isn’t working. Do you know how to light one?”
“Ja. Our old stove was like that.” She lifted Nettie Mae, the littlest one, into the buggy. “Did you have something planned for supper?”
“We’ve been eating whatever is in the fridge. I appreciate you coming to help, Clara.” He glanced at where the kinder were climbing into her buggy and claiming seats. “Can you stay until their grandparents or their aenti get here?”
“I can stay for as long as you need me to help with the kinder.” She didn’t add she was glad to get away from her daed, who found fault with everything she did. As he had for as long as she could remember. Doing a gut job for Isaiah could be the thing to prove to Daed she wasn’t as flighty and irresponsible as he thought. She had been as a kind, but she’d grown up. Her daed didn’t seem to realize that.
“Gut.” His breath came out in a long sigh, and she realized he was more stressed than she’d thought. “If it’s okay with you, I’ll finish some things here and get to the farm in a couple of hours. You don’t have to worry about milking the cows. I’ll do that after supper.”
“Take your time. I know you haven’t had much of it.”
He gave her a genuine smile, and her heart did a peculiar little lilt in her chest. She dampened her reaction.
“Danki,” he said. “It’s late, so getting set up for tomorrow is the best thing I can do. Firing the forge at this time in the afternoon would take too long. With you here to oversee the kinder, I’ll be able to finish the commission work that needs to be shipped by the end of next week.”
Curious what he was making, she nodded and walked to the buggy. She climbed in, pleased he didn’t offer her a hand in so that she didn’t have to pretend—again—she hadn’t seen his fingers almost in her face. She made sure the twins were settled, the girls on the front seat with her and the boys in the back where they could peer out the small rear window. Her two bags sitting on the floor between the seats wouldn’t be a problem for their short legs.
Clara drew in a deep breath as she reached for Bella’s reins. The bay shook her mane, ready to get to their destination after the hour-long drive from the Ebersol farm south of Paradise Springs. Clara was eager to be gone, too. Every turn of the buggy wheels took her toward her future, though she had no idea what that would be. The decisions would be hers, not some man’s who made her a pledge, then broke it a few months later.
She had expected the little ones to fall asleep to the rhythmic song of the horse’s iron shoes on the road, but getting into the buggy seemed to have revived them. When she glanced at the twins, she discovered four pairs of bright blue eyes fixed on her.
“You got kinder?” asked Nancy.
“No,” she said, glad her black bonnet hid her face from them. Try as she might, she hadn’t been able to keep her smile from wavering at the innocent question.
She had thought she would have a husband and be starting a family by now, but the man who had asked her to be his wife had married someone else in Montana without having the courtesy of telling her until after she’d found out from the mutual friend who had introduced them. Lonnie had come from Montana to visit Paradise Springs, and he’d courted her. Fool that she was, she’d believed his professions of love. Worse, he’d waited until he was married to write to her and break off their betrothal.
“I like you,” said Nettie Mae, leaning her head against Clara’s arm.
“I like you, too.” Clara was touched by the kind’s words. They were what she needed.
“I got a boppli.” She chewed on the end of her right braid.
“Will you show her to me when we get to your house?” Clara started to reach to pull the braid out of the kind’s mouth as she asked another question about Nettie Mae’s doll, then stopped herself. There was time enough to help the youngster end a bad habit later. Chiding her wouldn’t be a gut way to start with these fragile kinder.
The little girl nodded.
“Me, too,” Nancy announced as she jumped to her feet.
Clara drew the horse to a walk, then looked at the excited little girl. “It’s important we sit when we’re riding in a buggy.”
“Why?” both boys asked at the same time.
Worried that speaking about the dangers on the road might upset the twins and remind them of how their parents had died in a truck accident, she devised an answer she hoped would satisfy them. “Well, you see my horse? Bella is working very, very hard, and we don’t want to make it more difficult for her by bouncing around too much in the carriage.”
“Oh,” said a quartet of awed voices.
“Like horse,” Nancy said, sitting on the front seat again. “Pretty horse.”
“Ja. Bella is a pretty horse.” She slapped the reins and steered the carriage along the twisting road, making sure she watched for any vehicles coming over a rise at a reckless speed.
When a squirrel bounced across the road in front of them, the kids were as fascinated as if they’d never seen one before. They chattered about where it might live and what it might eat and if they could have one for a pet.
“It’s easy to catch a squirrel,” Clara said. “Do you know how?”
“How?” asked Andrew, folding his arms on the top of the front seat.
“Climb a tree and pretend you’re a nut.” She waited for the kinder to laugh at the silly riddle, but they didn’t.
Instead they became silent. The boys sat on the rear seat, and the girls clasped hands as Nettie Mae again began to chew on the end of her braid.
What had happened? They were old enough to understand the punch line, and she’d expected them to giggle or maybe groan. Not this unsettling silence.
“Where Onkel Isaiah?” Nettie Mae asked.
“Want Onkel Isaiah,” whined her twin.
“We’re going home to make supper for him,” Clara said, keeping her tone upbeat.
“Onkel Isaiah make supper,” Nettie Mae insisted.
“She’s
