Feeling his gaze on her, she turned her head and found strength and a promise of support in the silver depths. “Surely he won’t be able to resist that.” Her attempt at a smile fell flat. “He won’t get well on my cooking alone.”
Her heart stuttered in her chest. What if he didn’t get better? What would she do without the only real father figure she’d ever had? Her grandfather had practically raised her and her little brother, Will, after her pa left and her ma passed away.
“I don’t like that look on your face,” he gently reproved. “Don’t let your mind go there. We’re all praying for Tobias’s recovery.” A grin transformed his serious face. “Besides, you know as well as I do what a tough old codger he is. Stubborn, too. Though not nearly as stubborn as his granddaughter.”
That earned him a punch in the arm. “If anyone is stubborn around here, it’s you, Nathan O’Malley.”
Chuckling, he rubbed his arm as if it had really hurt. “I won’t deny it.” Jerking his head, he said, “Come on, I’ll walk you home and look in on him. See if I can’t convince him to eat something.”
Following him down the worn steps and into the lush grass, she moved to walk beside him, keenly aware of his height, the restrained power in his hardened body and the self-assuredness with which he carried himself. He smelled of summer, of line-dried clothes and freshly cut hay. And maybe a little of pecans and corn syrup, which made her regret refusing a piece of Mary’s pie.
As they passed the dairy barn, she noticed the cows weren’t crowded around the entrance and all seemed quiet. “You already did the milking?”
“Supper was a tad late getting on the table, so I did it beforehand.”
“On my way here, I spotted Caleb heading for the high country.” She tossed him a sideways glance. “How long is he going to be gone this time?”
Shrugging, he blew out a breath. “I suppose that depends on how long it takes him to snag a bear.”
She dodged a fat bumblebee that zoomed into her path. “When are you going to stop coddling him, Nathan? He has a responsibility to you and the rest of your family.”
“In his mind, he is fulfilling his responsibilities. By stocking the smokehouse with all the meat he brings home, he’s helping to feed the family. Not to mention the trade value of the hides and furs.”
Passing into the dense forest where the air was sweet and cool, the lowering sun’s rays filtered through the towering oaks, maples and various other trees, casting sidelong lines of light that made odd patterns on their clothing.
“I understand the accident changed him...and not only on the outside.” It had been a painful thing to witness the almost night-and-day change in his personality nearly two years ago. She missed the fun-loving, mischievous Caleb and feared her childhood playmate was gone for good. “I just don’t think it’s fair that he goes off whenever he feels like it and leaves you behind to do all the work.”
“It’s frustrating. And sometimes I get resentful.” His gaze volleyed between the root-studded ground and her. “To be honest, I haven’t a clue how to talk to my own brother.”
The admission clearly hadn’t come easily. Nathan wasn’t a complainer. When Caleb had first started taking off for days at a time, Nathan had simply picked up the slack, milking all the cows himself twice a day, feeding and watering them, caring for the sick and expectant, mucking out their stalls, delivering the milk and cheese Mary made to the mercantile. And when he wasn’t doing all that, he was working in the alfalfa, hay and cornfields. His older brother had pitched in to help, but now with his furniture business taking off and Kate expecting for the first time, Josh had little time to spare.
“Why not tell him the truth? That you need him here?”
When his brow creased in contemplation, she reached out and touched the bare forearm exposed by his rolled-up sleeve. The smooth, fine hairs covering the sun-kissed skin tickled her fingertips. She snatched her hand away.
“What?” He threw her a questioning glance.
Clearing her throat, she said almost defensively, “Nothing. Look, I’m concerned about you, that’s all. You work too hard.”
“I can say the same about you.”
Their gazes met and clung. Sophie basked in the warmth of his rare and fleeting admiration. Then he grabbed her hand and tugged her sideways, saving her from smacking face-first into a tree. He chuckled low in his chest. Feeling foolish, she concentrated on the path beneath her heavy black boots.
In the branches far above their heads, birds twittered, hooted and warbled in a melodious tune that echoed through the understory. She loved this place, the vast forest both awe-inspiring and peaceful, expansive yet somehow intimate; a testament to God’s power and creativity. A gift of both beauty and practicality.
She loved her home. Had no itch like some people her age to venture out of these East Tennessee mountains and experience city life. Imagine the gawking stares a tomboy like you would get in the city! The folks of Gatlinburg knew her and accepted her for what and who she was: a simple farm girl just trying to survive, to keep the farm afloat, to be both mother and father to her brother and caretaker of her beloved granddad. She had no grand dreams for her own future, no big expectations. Better to take each day as it came.
The trees thinned, allowing more light to spill into the meadows as they neared her family’s property. Much smaller than the O’Malley farm, the Tanner spread consisted of a single-pen cabin in the midst of a small clearing, a cantilever barn whose top-heavy structure resembled a wooden mushroom, a very tall, very skinny chicken coop and a springhouse straddling the cold, rushing waters of the stream winding through the trees. A small garden beside the cabin provided just enough vegetables for the three of them. Compared to Nathan’s place, her farm looked worn around the edges, a bit forlorn, the buildings sagging and bare. Even if she had the resources to fix everything that needed attention, there wasn’t enough time in the day. Still, she loved this land that she poured so much of her heart and soul into.
“Hey, Nathan!” Crouched in the water, Will let the large rock he was looking under resettle in the silt and hurried up the bank. He snatched up his pail and crossed the grass in his bare feet, unmindful of his mud-splashed overalls.
“Hey, buddy.” Always patient with her ten-year-old brother, Nathan greeted him with a ready smile. “What you got there?”
“I caught five crawdads. Wanna see?” He held up the pail, enthusiasm shining in his blue eyes handed down from their mother, the same hue as her own. A streak of dirt was smeared across his forehead and flecks of it clung to his brown hair.
Nathan peered at the miniature lobsterlike creatures and made an approving grunt. “Looks like you got some big ones.”
“Will, where are your shoes?” Sophie frowned. “What happens if you step on a bee or cut your foot on a rock?”
He rolled his eyes. “I won’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
“You worry too much.” He laughed off her concern. “I’m going to see if I can catch some more. See ya, Nathan.”
The last year had wrought many changes in her brother and not all of them bad. He’d shot up two inches, his face had thinned out and he was always hungry. A bright kid in possession of a tender heart, his boyish enthusiasm had calmed and smiles had to be coaxed out of him. More and more it seemed as if he was pulling away from her in an effort to gain his independence. The brother she’d practically raised herself was growing up, and she didn’t know how she felt about that.
“An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure,” she called to his retreating back.
Nathan angled toward her and lifted a sardonic eyebrow. “Prevention, huh? I wonder if you thought