“No,” he repeated sternly.
A mutinous expression appeared on her face and she shook a finger at him. “Don’t tell me no!”
He leaned down to look into her eyes. “No!”
Tears welled up and quickly spilled down her cheeks. “You bad man.”
He raised his eyes to the barn ceiling. How did they know at this young age that tears could turn a man’s resolve into putty? “I am not bringing a cow into the house.”
“I see kitty,” one said and ran toward the yellow tabby perched on the window ledge.
Her sister’s tears vanished, and she went running toward the animal, too. The cat didn’t care for the sudden attention. She jumped down and scampered out the door.
Both children turned toward him. One scowled. “Kitty ran ’way.”
“I don’t blame her. I’d like to do that myself.” He decided the frowning one was Megan and decided to test his theory. “Megan, do you like goats?”
She nodded. Okay, he had that right. “Come, we will feed them now.”
He gave each child a pail of grain. His small herd crowded around the children, eager to reach the feed. Lucy petted the head of each goat that came to investigate her. “Me like goats.”
“They can’t come in the house,” he said quickly to forestall another episode of tears.
“Okeydokey,” Lucy said.
“Where did you girls come from?” he asked, hoping to get more information about them.
Lucy pointed toward the road.
“What town did you come from?” he asked to be more specific. He was more curious about their pretty mother than he cared to admit.
Megan sighed deeply. “Our town.”
Lucy’s lower lip trembled. “Me want to sleep in my bed.”
“You will sleep in a warm bed tonight, I promise.” He laid a hand on her head. To his surprise, she wrapped her arms around his legs.
She looked up at him. “You nice, Johnjohn.”
“No! Bad man,” Megan yelled. She yanked Lucy away from him, making Lucy wince at the tight grip on her arm.
John leaned down to frown at Megan. “That was unkind. You must tell your shveshtah you are sorry and ask her forgiveness.”
For a second he thought she would defy him, but she put her arms around Lucy and pulled her close. “I’m sorry.”
Lucy pulled away and sniffled. “It’s okay.”
John stood up straight. “Goot. Your family is second only to God in your life. You must care for each other always. Let’s go milk the cow. Maybe your mother will be awake by then and I can get back to work.” His first order of business was to see what was wrong with the rear wheels of their buggy. His mother was insistent that they stay overnight, but he wanted them on their way first thing tomorrow.
His attempt to milk the cow proved far more difficult than he had imagined. In spite of his cautions, Lucy tried to catch Maybell’s tail as Megan crawled under her belly to see what he was doing. The cow jumped and almost upset his milk pail when Lucy squealed loudly. She had spotted Maybell’s twin calves in the next pen. The girls climbed the wooden fence and jabbered to each other and to the curious calves in a steady stream of words he couldn’t hope to keep up with.
They squealed again. He grabbed the pail as the cow kicked nervously. His chores had never been so nerve-racking. A glance over his shoulder revealed five kittens had come out of the hay to get their supper portion of fresh milk. The cats beat a hasty retreat when the girls rushed them.
“Johnjohn, why kitties run away?” Lucy demanded.
“You scared them by being too noisy. You must be quiet around the animals.”
“Why?”
“Because all creatures enjoy peace and quiet. Including this blacksmith.”
“Kitties!” Megan said, pointing toward the top of the hay bales where the litter had taken refuge.
“Leave them alone, and they will come down.” He poured a portion of the milk into a small wooden trough.
He walked to the barn door and held it open. “Come, we must take the millich to Mamm so we can have fresh cream on our oatmeal tomorrow morning.”
They were halfway across the front yard when the door of the house flew open, and Willa came rushing out. Her cheeks were bright red and her eyes were glassy. “I’ve slept too long. We have to be on our way. Get in the buggy, girls. Where is my horse?”
His mother came out of the house and took hold of Willa’s arm. “You are feverish, child. You can’t travel today.”
“I have to go. You don’t understand. I have to go or they will take my babies away from me.” She staggered closer to John. “I need a horse. Please, get my horse.”
He looked at his mother, and she shook her head. He spoke softly to Willa. “You can’t go until you are better. The girls are fine. See?”
He stepped aside so she could see them. “No one is going to take them. They are safe here. Go back into the house, where it’s warm.”
She clasped her arms across her chest. A shiver racked her body. A second later, her eyes rolled back in her head and she collapsed. He managed to catch her before she hit the ground.
He headed toward the house with her in his arms. By the time he reached the steps, her eyes fluttered open. She pushed against his chest. “I’m fine. Put me down.”
“You aren’t fine and you aren’t going anywhere except back to bed. You will stay there until my mother tells you that you may get up. Is that understood?”
“I need to get to Hope Springs tonight. I can’t let the children spend another night on the road.” He barely heard her hoarse whisper.
“You can’t get to Hope Springs before nightfall. It’s a two-day trip from here.”
“That can’t be.”
“Your horse must have carried you many miles out of your way. You can send a letter to your family, telling them that you have been delayed. Or I can use the neighborhood phone and call them if you will give me a number. That way they won’t be worrying about you.”
She closed her eyes and shook her head. “They aren’t expecting me.”
He stood aside so his mother could open the door for him. “That’s goot. They can be just as surprised and happy to see you when you are well. Now, back to bed with you.”
She closed her eyes. “You are very bossy.”
He fought back a smile. “And you are very stubborn.”
“So I have been told,” she whispered before her head lolled to the side, and he knew she was asleep again.
She didn’t rouse when he laid her on the bed. He stepped back and thrust his hands in his pockets. Her daughters crept in behind him. Lucy tugged on the hem of his coat. “Mama sick?”
Willa looked small and vulnerable lying beneath the thick quilt. He wanted to see her standing strong with that stubborn chin jutting out. He nodded. “Ja, I think she is very sick.”
Megan squeezed past him, grasped her mother’s hand and tugged on it. “Mama get up.”
His mother scowled at him and leaned down to reassure Megan, slipping her arm around the child’s shoulders. “Your mamm just needs to rest. Kumm, we must let her sleep. You are all going to stay with us for a few days. Won’t that be nice?”
“Feed