“Don’t remind me.” His stomach hardened into a tight knot just thinking about it. She’d been fourteen to his nineteen, a beautiful wild thing oblivious to danger, bursting with life and optimism that infused the air around her with sparkling energy. He’d rescued her as he’d done many times before. Lectured her, too. Now eighteen, she’d settled down since then, but he knew that untamable streak yet lingered, poised to make an appearance at any moment.
Caleb waited outside while Nathan retrieved the copper tub from the toolshed.
“And remember that time you and Danny Mabry were entrenched in a tug-of-war and Sophie distracted you? Hollered your name?” He chuckled. “You fell flat on your face in the mud.”
Nathan pursed his lips. Talk about being embarrassed. A girl he’d fancied had been watching that tug-of-war and his goal had been to impress her with his strength and skill. She’d taken one look at his mud-caked face and shared a hearty laugh with her friends. That was before he’d decided females were too much trouble to fool with.
Lifting the other end of the tub, Caleb helped him carry it to the porch.
“Oh, and do you remember—”
“I have the same memories as you, Caleb.” He cut him off, uninterested in rehashing all the scrapes and fixes Sophie Tanner had gotten herself—and him—into. “I just want to get this smell off.”
“Fine.” He helped maneuver the tub and straightened, yanking the handkerchief down around his neck, his uncharacteristic good humor gone. “Tell Pa I’m going to get a head start on the milking.”
Watching him stalk across the yard, Nathan regretted his abrupt words. The accident that had scarred Caleb and nearly killed his best friend almost two years ago had transformed the lighthearted prankster into a surly loner. He hardly recognized his own brother and it had nothing to do with his altered face.
Please, God, heal his hidden hurts. Help us to love him unconditionally and to be patient. He missed the old Caleb. He wondered if he’d ever glimpse that man again.
* * *
Three days and several vinegar baths later, his family no longer cringed when he entered a room. Poor Kate hadn’t come around since that first day. His brother Josh’s wife was expecting their first child, and her delicate condition magnified her sense of smell, which meant simply breathing the air around him had made her nauseous.
They were seated around the table Thursday night enjoying Ma’s pecan pie when a soft knock sounded on the kitchen door. Pa went to answer it. When Nathan heard Sophie’s quiet voice, he gulped the remainder of his coffee and, excusing himself, went to greet her.
Hearing his approach, Pa bid her goodbye and returned to the table.
Sophie’s gaze collided with his, remorse churning in the blue depths. The final pieces of irritation dissolved and he wished he had gone to see her before this.
“Hey, Soph.” He gripped the smooth wooden door and rested his weight against it. “Ma made pecan pie for dessert. Care to join us?”
Not much of a cook herself, she usually took him up on such offers.
She hesitated, fingers toying with the end of her neatly woven braid, honey-blond hair gleaming like spun gold in the sunlight. Spun gold? Where had that fanciful thought come from? He was not a fanciful man. He was a sensible man. A practical man who dealt with day-to-day reality. He wasn’t a reader like Josh or his cousins, so his mind wasn’t filled with poetry and romance. Must be the effects of the skunk stench.
“No, thanks. Do you have a minute?”
“Sure.” Joining her on the porch, he pulled the door closed behind him and went to lean against the railing, arms folded over his chest.
Sophie faced him squarely, hands tucked in her pants’ pockets and shoulders back in a familiar stance that said she had something to prove. “I came to apologize for the other day.”
The apology didn’t come as a surprise. One thing about his neighbor—she was quick to own up to mistakes. “Forget about it.”
“I hope the smell didn’t disrupt things too much.”
Disrupt? As in having to steer clear of the barn while his brother and father assumed his share of the chores? As in having to take his meals on the front porch so as not to make everyone gag at the supper table?
“Nah, not really.” He smiled to erase her lingering regret.
Bending at the waist, she sniffed the air around him. Shot him a hopeful smile. “You smell fine to me. Does this mean we can be friends again?”
He gave her braid a playful tug. “We’ll always be friends. You know that.”
But his words didn’t have the desired effect. Her smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared, long lashes sweeping down. “I don’t expect you to rescue me, you know.”
Straightening, Nathan settled his hands on her shoulders. “Sophie, look at me.” When she lifted her face to his, he said, “I shouldn’t have said that. I was angry, and I spoke without thinking. You know you can always count on me, don’t you?”
She slowly nodded. He was struck by her diminutive stature, her slender build and the delicacy so often overlooked because of her tomboyish appearance and the air of capability she exuded that had carried her through the many hardships life had thrown her way. But now, gazing into her face, he was reminded that she was no longer the rough-and-tumble little imp trailing behind him and his brothers, insistent on joining in their fun.
The muted light of the summer evening washed her fair skin with a pink tinge of health, her cheeks and bee-stung lips the color of delicate rosebuds. The collared button-down shirt she had on was blue like the sky overhead. The bright hue made her eyes glow like the blue sapphire ring Emmett Clawson had taken in on trade a couple of weeks ago and that now occupied a premier spot in the jewelry case for everyone to admire.
With a start, he realized he was staring and Sophie was watching him with an uncharacteristic guardedness. He released her at once. What’s gotten into you, O’Malley?
Clearing his clogged throat, he pivoted away to grip the railing, slowly and methodically cataloging the rows upon rows of cornstalks swaying in the breeze, the stately apple orchard marching along the fields in front of Josh and Kate’s cabin and the forested mountains ringing the valley.
Okay, so Sophie was all grown up now. So what? That didn’t mean he was free to think of her in terms other than neighbor and friend. Disaster lay down that path....
If, and that was a big if, he ever decided to marry, Sophia Lorraine Tanner would not be up for consideration. Not ever.
She was trouble, pure and simple. Too impulsive. Too headstrong. Too much. No, if he did decide to find himself a wife, he’d search for someone sensible, cautious and levelheaded. Someone like him.
Chapter Two
Sophie wrapped a hand around the wooden post for support and attempted to appear nonchalant about the effects of Nathan’s touch. His nearness. It wasn’t as if such touches were rare. They were friends, had been friends as far back as she could remember, and while her handsome neighbor had strict ideas about what constituted appropriate behavior, he was an affectionate man. Compassionate, too. Dependable and trustworthy.
Nathan was everything her wayward pa wasn’t. He would never dream of doing something as despicable as abandoning his pregnant wife and child for another woman.
“How’s Tobias?” he asked.
Sophie tracked a pair of dragonflies flitting on the wind, their iridescent wings a mix of blue and silvery green. The worry she’d battled since her granddad had taken ill