“Much older,” Annie said with a smile for her mother. “A man who will care for me and accept me as I am. It’s a gut plan.”
“Maybe,” Mam said, nodding. “I don’t know that you should limit your choices. You’re not getting any younger.”
“Mam!” Annie began to core and cut up fresh cooking apples.
“’Tis true.” Mam started to help her, grabbing an apple and slicing it in half. “The thing is, Annie, your vadder’s accident is going to hurt us financially. I have faith that his hospital bills will be paid, but with him unable to work in the shop...”
Annie recalled Jacob Lapp’s offer to help, then she promptly forced it from her mind. Jacob had apparently taken her at her word that he couldn’t fill in for Dat, and that was fine. “What does Dat’s accident have to do with me marrying?”
Mam had cut up two apples, and she reached for a third. “We’d like to see you settled with a husband, someone who can provide for you.”
She felt the blood drain from her face. “You and Dat want me to wed so that you don’t have to provide for me?”
“Nay,” Mam said, “that’s not what I’m saying at all. Your dat and I love you. But we—I—worry that you’ve not considered your future. You’re a caring young woman. You’ll make some man a fine wife.”
“I’ll not approach a man and ask him to marry me,” Annie said, horrified at the idea.
“Nay.” Mam dumped the apples into a large bowl, which she pushed toward Annie. “I’m simply saying that if a man shows interest in you, you consider him seriously.”
Annie sprinkled sugar and cinnamon over the apples and stirred them through. “I will,” she said, “if one shows interest.” She didn’t have much to worry about. No man since Jed Lapp had taken notice of her yet.
Mam smiled. “Gut. I like having you here—it’s not that.”
She felt herself relax. “I know you want only what’s best for me.”
“Ja,” Mam said. “I want what’s best for all of my children.”
The thud of footsteps resounded on the front wooden porch—the new covered porch with the wheelchair ramp, built by the church community men to help with her father’s recovery.
“Miriam?” Samuel Lapp’s voice called out as he approached the screen door.
Annie smiled as her mother left the kitchen to greet Samuel. She liked Jedidiah Lapp’s dat. He was a kind, caring man, who loved his family and was always available for whenever anyone within their church community needed him. As she continued to work on the apple pie, she heard murmuring voices. Samuel must have come to visit with her father. She carefully spooned the apples onto the crust, aware of when her mother entered the kitchen. “Mam, would you pass me the container of brown sugar? I left it on the counter.”
The container of brown sugar was set before her. She looked up to smile her thanks and then promptly froze at the sight of Jacob Lapp, standing on the other side of the table, watching her with his laughing, golden eyes.
“What are you doing here?” she snapped. His dark hair looked neatly combed despite the fact that he had obviously just removed his hat upon entering the house. His jaw was clean shaven, like all of the other unmarried young men within their village of Happiness. She lifted her gaze from the smooth skin of his chin and cheeks to a nose that was well formed and masculine, up to those twinkling tawny eyes of his. It felt like dancing butterflies flitted across her nape as some unknown emotion passed over her. Disturbed, she quickly looked away.
“Your mudder sent me for the pitcher of iced tea. Dat and I have come for a visit with your vadder.”
Her heart raced as she narrowed her eyes at him. “The tea is over there,” she instructed, “in the refrigerator.” She gestured toward a back room. Aware of her flour-and cinnamon-dusted hands, she quickly went back to work, fixing the crumb topping that would form the upper “crust” of the apple pie. She was aware that Jacob hadn’t moved. She could feel him studying her and pretended she didn’t notice until her mother returned from the family gathering room, where her father spent the better part of his days recuperating.
“Did you find the iced tea, Jacob?” Mam asked.
“Annie just told me where to find it,” he said.
“I’ll get it,” her mother offered as Jacob moved closer to the worktable.
He leaned forward, nearly invading her space. She stepped back and glared at him. He simply smiled at her. “That looks gut,” he said. “I always enjoy being in the kitchen on Mam’s baking day.”
Annie paused, looked up. “Making an apple pie?” she taunted.
A slow smile curved his handsome lips. “I don’t cook, but I’ve helped a time or two.” Her mother returned from the back room and handed him the iced tea. He held on to the glass pitcher and said, “Nothing like a slice of hot apple pie, fresh from the oven on baking day.”
“Except maybe a piece of warm apple pie with a scoop of homemade ice cream.” Mam went to the pantry and took out a tray of cookies. “Pie won’t be done for a while, how about these instead?”
“These are great.” Jacob grinned, and Annie told herself that she wasn’t affected by his smile or his good looks.
“Annie made them,” Mam said, and Annie wanted to cry out with frustration.
“You helped.” She measured out the brown sugar, dumped it in a small bowl and added the butter her mother had cut up earlier.
Jacob grabbed a chocolate-chip cookie from the plate and took a bite. “Delicious.”
Annie shot him a glance and felt her heart flutter at his look. “It’s just a cookie,” she said, her tone sharp. There is no need to be hostile, she reminded herself. She drew a calming breath and managed to smile. “I’m glad you like it.”
Why was he here? Why did he seek her out? Had Jed said something to him about her? She didn’t want to know, for she feared the truth might hurt her.
“I’ll take these into the other room.” Jacob sniffed, as if detecting a scent. “I can smell them. Lemon?” He took another whiff and nodded. “And this one here smells like almond extract.” He held up the plate with one hand. “I’d sure like to try that pie.”
Annie saw Jacob smile at her mother, felt the bright light of it and looked away. She was relieved when he left the room with the refreshments, for she didn’t want to notice anything about him—or to remember the attractive, teasing twinkle in his eyes while he ate one of her cookies.
* * *
“Jacob!” Horseshoe Joe sat in his chair with his leg cast propped up on a padded stool that Jacob’s brother Noah had made for him.
“We were just talking about you,” Samuel said.
Jacob raised his eyebrows as he approached with iced tea and cookies and set them down. “What about?”
“Joe wants to ask you something,” his father said.
He glanced back and forth between the two older men. “Ja?” He was pleased to note that Joe looked much better since his return home nearly two weeks before. The color had returned to the older man’s cheeks. But Joe couldn’t get around well yet.
Joe tried to adjust his leg, and Jacob’s dat helped him shift it to a more comfortable position. “You must know that I still have weeks of recovery before me.” Jacob