tending her animals. She’d never known such a man, never felt such happiness as she did this very minute, catching his eye as he turned toward her as if to make sure of her well-being.
His mouth curved in a smile. “All right?” he asked. And Joy thought she’d never been so all right in her life.
Chapter Two
The barn loomed before them and Gideon applied his strength to the task of pushing the wide barn door aside, reaching for Joy to draw her close to his side as they entered. She found herself inside the warmth of the barn, which in reality was more of a shed, holding but three stalls and storage space above for hay for the animals. There was a straw stack outside the backdoor, already half gone with months of winter yet to pass before the hay would once more be ready to cut and the wheat ready for harvest. Luckily, their neighbor was good enough to cut the wheat for them and bring a stack of straw to the barnyard for their use, all for allowing him half the harvest.
Gideon spoke to her, his voice booming now that the barn door was closed and the wind was held in abeyance. “I’ll clean out the stalls for you, ma’am, and put hay in the mangers for the animals. It looks like you have a good supply up above.”
“Yes, hopefully it will last until the first cutting of hay in June or July. We cut the last in September and had a good crop to pile up top. It keeps the barn warm and the animals fed. Can’t ask for more than that, can we?” Joy smiled up at Gideon from her perch on the milking stool next to Daisy. She’d tossed an armful of hay into the cow’s manger before sitting down to milk her, and Daisy lowed contentedly as she bent her head to munch on the hay set before her. Joy propped the milk bucket between her knees in preparation for the chore of milking, an event Daisy was more than ready for, according to her low murmurings that Joy understood after long association with the cow. She found herself talking to the animal as she milked, much as she might speak with a friend, knowing that the sound of her voice kept Daisy contented and placid.
Joy looked up as a pair of big feet paused to stand beside her. “I can’t thank you enough for your help,” she said to the man who had worked his way to Daisy’s stall, having already hefted last night’s leavings from the animals out the backdoor. “It would have taken me almost an hour to plow through the snow and get out here, and then I’d have to carry the bucket of milk back and hope I didn’t spill it on the way. I’ve fallen more than once traveling back and forth, and it was much easier to follow in your footsteps and get here so quickly today.”
“I’m more than grateful to you, ma’am, for feeding me and my son and giving us a warm place to roost this morning. I don’t think I’d have lasted much longer if I hadn’t seen your lit window from the road out front. I was about winded from plowing through the drifts and carrying Joseph. I fear we’d have frozen to death had I not caught sight of your place.”
“Well, you’re welcome to stay with Grandpa and me for as long as you need to. We have a loft with plenty of room for you. Grandpa sleeps up there in one room my pa walled off over the kitchen range. It keeps him warm in the winter, and when he opens his window in the good weather, he’s right next to the big maple tree out front and can see and hear the birds in its branches. We use the rest of the space up there for storage and have a bed set up in one corner. It used to be my room before my mother and father died. It seemed like a waste to have their bedroom empty, so I moved downstairs and put my things in their old room a couple of years ago.”
“How long have your folks been gone?” Gideon asked quietly from behind her. She felt the warmth of his big body and wondered if he hadn’t moved to keep the draft from the door off her while she milked Daisy.
“It’s been four years, since I was sixteen. They apparently got hit by a log while they were crossing the stream on their way home from town. It must have tipped the wagon and they were caught beneath the lumber Pa had bought there. The weight of it was too much for them and they drowned before they could get free. Our neighbor found them and managed to pull them from the water, but it was too late to do more than bring them home.”
“We never know why things happen as they do,” Gideon said quietly. “I often wondered why my wife died in childbirth as she did. I had to find a wet nurse for Joseph. She lived with us until he was six months old, when I began to feed him from the table and taught him how to drink from a cup. My housekeeper took over his care when the wet nurse had a chance to go to a family that needed her more. She was a lifesaver for me and for Joseph, of course. But it was good for me to take over his care as much as I could after I came home from work. Mrs. Bates had her hands full with cooking and cleaning and such, so Joseph and I spent a lot of time together. We’ve become much closer than most father and sons, I think. He means the world to me.”
“Well, I’m pleased to have you with us for Christmas, Mr. Burnley. Perhaps you can even help me chop down the tree I’ve had my eye on.”
“First off, why don’t you call me Gideon, ma’am?” he asked nicely.
“I will if you can bring yourself to stop calling me ma’am and call me Joy instead.”
He grinned at her and she was warmed by his smile. She stood and lifted the milk pail, not surprised when he reached to take it from her hand. He placed it by the barn door and then turned back to her.
“Where will I find the straw to put in the stalls?” he asked.
“I’ll show you, Gideon. Follow me.”
She went to the backdoor and slid it open, revealing the small corral and the straw stack that was covered in piles of snow. Gideon set her aside and stepped outdoors, pitchfork in hand. “I’ll toss it in if you can push it to one side until there’s enough for the stalls,” he said. He stuck the pitchfork into the hollowed-out space from which she’d dug straw for the past months and turned back around with the fork piled high. In a quick movement he sent it sailing into the barn and Joy nudged the straw to one side, then awaited the next load.
In just a few minutes Gideon had tossed enough straw inside for the stalls and he came back into the barn, pushing the door closed behind himself. “It’s not so bad out back. The wind is broken by the barn and it makes it easier to work when you’re not being blown hither and yon.” He laughed as he turned to fork up the straw and spread it in the stalls. “This won’t take at all long now. Why don’t you let the cow out of her stall and into the aisleway while I clean her space and then give her a share of this stuff.”
Joy undid Daisy’s lead rope from the manger and backed her up, giving Gideon room to toss the soiled debris from her stall and then replace it with the clean bedding. When he’d completed his chore, she led the cow back to her breakfast and Daisy immediately tucked into the fresh hay, lowing contentedly as she did.
“I’m about done out here,” Joy said. “And it looks to me like you’ve finished all my chores for me, Gideon. I surely do appreciate it. Now to carry this milk into the house. I usually leave it in the milk house until the next milking, but I think I’ll just take it on in with me and let you pick up last night’s bucket from the milk house, if you will. It’s just to the left of the door, with a towel draped over the top. We’ll put them both in the pantry and by tomorrow I’ll have enough cream for churning.”
“I’ll be glad to carry both pails, Joy. I think I can manage if you’ll hold this one while I get the other from the milk house.”
Joy tucked her shawl around her head and inside her coat collar, readying herself for the blast of wind that would surely be waiting on the other side of the door. Gideon led the horse into his stall and closed the door behind him, and then they stood by the wide barn door, both of them obviously
