“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