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“I finished the back acreage where you left off and a little more.”
“Don’t,” Nate warned Jacob. “Don’t encourage her. You know what can happen when an accident occurs with the mower. She could have been hurt or worse.”
His expression sobering, Jacob gazed at her. “He’s right.”
She lifted her chin defiantly. “Maybe.”
Nate stared at his brother. “Jake, you need to lie down before you fall.”
To Charlie’s surprise, Jacob agreed. She moved to help him into the other room, but Nate reached him first. As if he didn’t trust her to help Jacob. Hurt, she stayed in the kitchen while the brothers disappeared into the other room. While she waited for Nate to return, she felt the strongest urge to flee. But she didn’t. She might have made a huge mistake with the mower, but she was just trying to help. Charlie still thought he’d overacted, and she wouldn’t run as if she’d done something wrong.
But she didn’t want him to think her unreliable and immature. She wanted the teaching job and needed to show him that she was a dependable, no-nonsense young woman who would make the best teacher ever hired for their Happiness School. A wrong word from Nate or anyone else within the community would end her chances to teach. As much as it upset her to change, she understood she needed to be on her best behavior. Even if it killed her to change into someone other than herself.
* * *
After making sure Jacob was comfortable on the sofa, Nate returned to the kitchen. He paused in the doorway, his gaze immediately homing in on Charlie. She stared out the window over the sink. There was a defeated slump to her shoulders, and he could feel her dejection like pain in his belly. But as much as it hurt him to see her this way, he knew he was right to be hard on her.
He stepped into the room. “Charlie.”
She spun as if taken by surprise. A look of vulnerability settled on her pretty features. He scowled. He didn’t want to notice how lovely she was or to recall her misguided intentions to help. If she didn’t rein in her tendency to jump into potentially dangerous situations, she could get seriously injured. Or die.
Her breath shuddered out. “Jacob oll recht?”
“Ja. He’s asleep.”
Her mouth softened into a slight smile. “The pain medication.”
He nodded, unable to take his gaze off her. He’d been more than a little alarmed when he’d realized that she’d used the mower. If something had happened to her...
A memory came to him sharp and painful of another young girl who’d been reckless and wild like Charlie. He’d loved Emma with all of the love in a young boy’s heart, but it hadn’t been enough. Despite his repeated warnings, Emma had continued to take risks in her quest for excitement. She’d claimed that she loved him, but in the end, he wasn’t enough to keep her happy. He’d warned her to avoid the young Englishers in town, but she hadn’t listened.
Instead, she’d called him a spoilsport for ruining her fun. Then one night she’d slipped out of the house during her rumspringa to spend time with her new English friends. The teenage driver had crashed his car, the accident seriously wounding his passengers, three English girls, and killing Emma immediately.
Nate hadn’t known of Emma’s plans that night. Later in his grief, he’d realized that Emma would have hated being married to an Amish farmer. Never content to be a wife and a mother, she would have always craved—and gone looking for—excitement.
Charlie shifted uncomfortably under his gaze and he looked away. Charlie needed a husband, he thought. A man to ground her. Someone closer to her age with enough sense to help her reach her potential as a responsible wife and mother.
“Charlie—”
“I only wanted to help, Nathaniel,” she said.
He stifled a smile at the use of his formal given name. She tended to use it whenever she was upset with him. “I know.”
“But I didn’t, did I? I made you worry and I didn’t mean to.”
He sighed. “Next time you need to listen when I tell you something.”
“I guess that will depend on what you say,” she said cheekily.
“Charlie,” he warned.
“I’m not a child, and I can only be me.”
“I need to get back to work,” he said abruptly. He had to maintain his distance. He mustn’t think of her as anything other than a child.
“Will you be back for lunch?”
He hesitated. “I’m not sure. If I am, most likely I’ll be late. If the two of you get hungry, eat.” He grabbed his hat from the table where he’d tossed it earlier. “I need to stay out and cut as much hay as possible before it rains.”
An odd sound made him spin around. Charlie looked as if she was going to say something but she didn’t.
Nate studied her face and had to stifle amusement at the aggrieved look in her green eyes. “Stay in the haus, Charlie. Jacob needs you.”
She sniffed as if he’d found fault with her. “I’ll keep an eye on him.”
He didn’t release her gaze. “Gut.” Jamming his hat on his head, he opened the back door and took one last look to find her reaching for the broom. “Charlie.”
She spun as if startled. “Ja?”
“Behave.”
She glared at him. “Go mow your hay, vadder,” she mocked.
Nate chuckled under his breath as he left, pulling the door shut behind him. He was overly conscious that Charlie was in his home, doing her best to help out in a bad situation. He didn’t know what he would have done if she hadn’t been there yesterday.
He gauged the sky, noting the gathering dark clouds in the far distance. The last thing he needed was for it to rain before he was done.
He couldn’t dawdle. Time was passing too quickly, and he’d already spent too much of it at the house when he should have been in the fields. But after realizing what Charlie had done, he hadn’t been able to stay away.
Nate scowled. Lately, Charlie was taking up way too many of his thoughts. She wanted to be a teacher. Maybe that was just what she needed—a job to keep her busy and that would make her take responsibility more seriously. His mam frequently sang Charlie’s praises for the way she handled his younger siblings. Mam obviously felt Charlie responsible enough to watch her children while she did other things.
He had a ton of work to do, Nate reminded himself. He forced Charlie from his mind to focus on the task at hand.
Four hours later he was pleased to realize that he’d cut more acreage than expected. He hated to admit it, but Charlie’s work in the back fields the previous morning had helped him. As he stabled his Belgian team, he felt the first of the rain. He closed the barn door then headed to the house, his thoughts immediately returning to Charlie and the lunch she’d promised him.
Nate was overwhelmed with a sudden chill as the rain began to fall in earnest, soaking him. As he reached the house, the door opened and Charlie stood, studying him with a worried look. “’Tis raining,” she said, eyeing him carefully, noting his soaked clothes.
Nate nodded. “I know.” Water dripped from his straw hat onto the porch decking. He tugged off his hat, and his hair underneath was sopping. The hat had done nothing to keep out the rain. She held out her hand for the hat then stepped back so he could enter the house. He followed her with his gaze. “You were worried.”
She looked away, apparently unwilling to admit concern. “I made soup,” she said.
He let it go. “Sounds gut.” He shivered. “And hot.” He smiled. “I need warming up.”
“You should change into dry garments,” she suggested.
He spun toward her. “Is that an order?”
“It would help.” She blinked. “And it was just an idea.”
He grinned, silently laughing at her. “’Tis a gut one.” He started across the kitchen toward the hall to the stairs. He halted and faced her. “How’s Jacob?”
“Seems oll recht. He’s resting. In fact, he’s been sleeping most of the morning. He woke up about an hour ago and I made him tea, but I think he’s fallen asleep again.”
“He needs his rest.” He turned to leave.
“Nathaniel.”
He spun back. “Ja?”
“Did you finish the mowing?”
“I did.”
She looked relieved. “Gut. I’ll check on Jacob then put the soup on the table.”
“What kind of soup?” he asked, curious.
“Ham and lima bean.”
His favorite. Humph. Was she aware? He studied her a moment. Nay, he decided, eyeing her with approval. So she could make soup. What else could she cook? He needed to know if he was to find her a husband. After I help her to get the teaching position at our Happiness School.
* * *
Jacob opened his eyes as Charlie entered the room. “How are you feeling?” she asked softly.
“Like someone slashed my foot with a sickle.”
“I’m sorry,” she said with genuine sympathy. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Nay.” He gave her a small smile. “I’ll live but danki.”
“Are you hungry? Nate’s back.” She’d been sick with relief when he’d walked, dripping wet, into the house. She’d fretted all morning, wondering if the mower had overturned and pinned him beneath metal.
“Nate’s home?”
She shook off the mental image. “Ja. ’Tis raining. He’s changing into dry clothes.” She waited patiently as he sat up. “Can I help you into the kitchen?”
“Nay. I need to talk with him first,” he said gruffly. “You go. We’ll be there in a few minutes.”
Not understanding why Jacob’s comment stung her, Charlie returned to the kitchen. She set out bowls, napkins and silverware. She sliced the loaf of bread she’d found earlier in the pantry and cut up a block of cheddar in case they wanted a sandwich.
Nate entered alone moments later as she debated whether or not anything was missing from the table. She knew the exact second he entered the room.
“Did Jacob eat?” he asked.
“Nay. He’ll join us, but said he wants to talk with you first.” She watched Nate’s brow furrow before he left to check on his brother.
He was gone a long time. Now that he was home, there was no need for her to stay. She would eat, then clean up before taking her leave.
Nate entered, his arm supporting Jacob. He helped him to the table and pulled out a chair. Charlie adjusted the seat opposite for Jake to use as a footrest.
“The soup smells gut.” Nate grabbed the chair next to his brother. “I’m starved. How about you, Jake?”
Looking pale, Jacob didn’t answer.
Charlie frowned. “You don’t like ham and bean soup, Jake?”
“I like it well enough. I don’t feel much like eating.”
“I can heat up a can of chicken soup. There’s one in the pantry.”
“Nay,” Jacob said with a genuine smile. “I’ll have a cup of the ham and bean.”
Charlie ladled the soup into a large tureen and placed it in the center of the table. She held out her hand for Nate’s bowl. His gaze locked on her as he gave it to her. The intensity of his look made her face heat. She hoped he’d believe it was from the hot soup rather than from her reaction to him. She set a filled bowl carefully before him then reached to fill a cup for Jacob. “Would you like bread, Jake?” she asked. “If your stomach is upset, it may help.”
He looked surprised but nodded. Charlie passed him the bread plate and butter dish. Jacob reached for a slice and buttered it.
“Don’t I get bread, too?” Nate teased.
She felt suddenly flustered until she realized that he was giving her a hard time simply because he could. A little imp inside made her cheeky. “Ja. Jacob, pass your bruder the bread plate, please.”
Nate continued to watch her. Her stomach reacted when he gave her a slow smile. She looked away, filled her soup bowl then sat down across from Nate.
The men expressed appreciation for her cooking, and Charlie felt inordinately pleased by their praise. She ate her soup slowly, not wanting to rush and spill it. The brothers discussed the farmwork to be done once the rain stopped.
“I need to fix the leak in our storage building roof,” Nate said.
“Can’t you just bale it into rolls and cover them in plastic to leave outside?” Charlie asked. Many Amish farmers within her community stored hay that way.
Surprisingly, it was Jacob who looked at her as if she were an oddity.
Nate calmly explained why they chose to bale the hay into blocks instead. They would lay plastic over the top of the stack to protect them from the weather until they could move the hay inside. “’Tis easier to store. Hay wrapped too long in plastic can ferment. Feeding fermented hay to our animals can make them tipsy. Dat doesn’t like to use fermented hay.”
“My vadder has used rolled hay bales.” She paused. “I have seen tipsy cows on occasion.”
Nate regarded her patiently. “Many use rolled bales successfully, but my vadder isn’t one of them.”
The men finished eating. Charlie ate the last of her soup then stood to clear the table. Nate rose and helped Jacob into the other room. He returned within moments as she stacked dirty dishes on the counter near the sink. “You have plenty of soup left for another meal,” she said as she ran hot water into a dish basin. When he didn’t comment, she faced him. “Is something wrong?” She sighed with disappointment. “The soup didn’t taste gut.” Dismayed, she began to wash dishes.
“It was delicious,” he assured her as he approached. To her shock, he pulled out a dish towel and started to dry the dishes.
“I’m glad you liked it.” She grew silent. “You don’t have to dry dishes.”
“I want to. Like you, I don’t mind helping others.”
She didn’t know how to respond. Was he mocking her? “Is that a subtle reminder of what I’ve done wrong?”
“Nay.” He continued to work in silence.
