LITMIR.BIZ

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cheerfully. “It’ll warm your tummy.”

      “Let me shovel off your porch first,” the stranger said. “Then I’ll come in and eat while you tell me what else I can do to help you.”

      “I’d be much obliged, sir, but I’d feel better about things if you’d eat first. I’d set out to shovel when I heard you calling. I have to milk the cow before much longer, but I’ll feed you first and then you can help me make a path to the barn.”

      The man stood hesitantly and walked to the sink. “Then I’ll just wash up a bit first, ma’am, if that’s all right with you.”

      Grandpa pushed his chair back a bit, then bent to the lad who sat a foot or so from him and whispered to him in his husky voice, “You’re a fine-looking boy, sure enough. I’ll bet you can eat another biscuit when that one’s gone. Joy made lots this morning. Musta known we’d have company.”

      The child looked up at the old man and lifted his small hand to touch Grandpa’s beard. “Is that what it looks like when you haven’t shaved for a long time?” he asked.

      Grandpa chuckled. “Sure enough, boy.”

      The stranger bent over the sink basin and splashed his hands and face with water from the pump. Joy handed him the jar of soap from beneath the sink and he nodded his thanks as he poured a bit into his hands and scrubbed them together to form a mountain of suds that soon turned dark from the dirt he washed off. She poured a bit more soap on him, and he again rubbed it into suds, which he used to wash his face. She pumped the water again and he rinsed off with the clean flow.

      “Come sit down, sir,” she said, taking two biscuits from the warming oven and placing them on the plate that had been before her own chair. “Split these and I’ll dish up some gravy for you.”

      He did as she’d told him and watched as she poured a good helping for him. “I’m sure enough thankful for this, ma’am. I fear I’ve not even introduced myself to you and your father.”

      “He’s my grandpa, for my parents are both dead and buried,” Joy said quietly.

      “Well, I’m Gideon Burnley, and this is my son, Joseph. We’re without my wife, for I lost her when Joseph was born and she’s buried this side of St. Louis, where we had a home.”

      “Pleased to make your acquaintance. My name is Joy Watson.”

      “How do you happen to be in this neck of the woods?” Grandpa asked, settling back into his chair.

      “I decided to head west and look for a bit of land, for we lived in the city and I’d been raised on a farm. I’d been thinking that a new start might work well for us, so I set out with my boy and all the cash I got for our furniture and such to find a place for us to settle. The weather was fine when we started out and I wasn’t expecting the snow to start falling right away, figured we would have a month or so of decent weather to travel first.”

      “It’s been a hard winter thus far,” Joy said. “We haven’t had any relief from the snow and ice since October.”

      Gideon Burnley took the knife and fork Joy had given him and cut up the food before him. His son, Joseph, spoke up quietly. “Daddy, we forgot to bless our food.”

      “So we did, boy. Why don’t you do that now. The good Lord will excuse you from eating first.”

      Joseph bent his head and spoke simple words of thanksgiving for the food and then looked up at his father, as if seeking his approval. Gideon nodded his head and smiled. “Go ahead and eat, Joseph.”

      Joy found a bowl and fixed herself a biscuit, deciding the cow could wait for another ten minutes, for she was beyond hungry herself. Pouring a cup of coffee, she set it before Gideon and received his thanks. She then filled a glass from the pitcher of milk and offered it to Joseph. He reached for it and drank eagerly, as if it had been a long time since he’d had a glass of milk in his hands.

      Joy settled across from her grandfather and quickly ate her own breakfast, then rose to place her empty bowl in the dishpan. She poured a bit of soap into it and added a pan of hot water. The rest of the dirty dishes were added quickly and she fortified herself for the walk to the barn with a last sip of coffee.

      “I’m going out to milk now, Grandpa,” she said, touching his shoulder as she passed his chair. “You just sit still and enjoy your coffee, won’t you? I won’t be long.”

      “If you’ll hold up a moment, ma’am, I’d like to go ahead of you and make a path for you,” Gideon said, rising from his place to scoop his coat from the hook behind him. He slid into it quickly, then took Joy’s from her and held it for her, easing it onto her arms carefully. She snatched up her shawl and wrapped it around her head, tucking the ends into the front of her coat to provide extra warmth on her chest. She buttoned her coat, stamped her boots into place on her feet and opened the backdoor.

      Joy’s heartbeat thudded in her chest as Gideon led the way, for he’d reached for her hand to tug her close behind him. “Hold tight,” he said. “I’ll break the path for you, Joy. Just stay close.”

      The man threw off heat like the potbellied stove at the general store and she felt his warmth radiate as she followed him from the kitchen. Stay close. The man had no idea how tempting those words were, Joy thought, and she obeyed him, stepping in his footprints as they made their way across the yard.

      In but a few short minutes, Gideon had made a fair-size path halfway to the barn and she took a short detour to the milk house to reach in and snatch up the pail she’d left there last night, ready for this morning’s milking. Gideon looked back at her and grinned.

      “We’re almost there, ma’am. Another couple of minutes should do it.”

      Joy nodded her agreement, then ducked her head against his back and followed closely behind him. Tall, strong and blessed with a smile that warmed her heart, he tempted her. And though it might be folly to think of him in such a way, she allowed her thoughts to dwell on him and the moments they would share as they worked together, tending her animals. She’d never known such a man, never felt such happiness as she did this very minute, catching his eye as he turned toward her as if to make sure of her well-being.

      His mouth curved in a smile. “All right?” he asked. And Joy thought she’d never been so all right in her life.

      Chapter Two

      The barn loomed before them and Gideon applied his strength to the task of pushing the wide barn door aside, reaching for Joy to draw her close to his side as they entered. She found herself inside the warmth of the barn, which in reality was more of a shed, holding but three stalls and storage space above for hay for the animals. There was a straw stack outside the backdoor, already half gone with months of winter yet to pass before the hay would once more be ready to cut and the wheat ready for harvest. Luckily, their neighbor was good enough to cut the wheat for them and bring a stack of straw to the barnyard for their use, all for allowing him half the harvest.

      Gideon spoke to her, his voice booming now that the barn door was closed and the wind was held in abeyance. “I’ll clean out the stalls for you, ma’am, and put hay in the mangers for the animals. It looks like you have a good supply up above.”

      “Yes, hopefully it will last until the first cutting of hay in June or July. We cut the last in September and had a good crop to pile up top. It keeps the barn warm and the animals fed. Can’t ask for more than that, can we?” Joy smiled up at Gideon from her perch on the milking stool next to Daisy. She’d tossed an armful of hay into the cow’s manger before sitting down to milk her, and Daisy lowed contentedly as she bent her head to munch on the hay set before her. Joy propped the milk bucket between her knees in preparation for the chore of milking, an event Daisy was more than ready for, according to her low murmurings that Joy understood after long association with the cow. She found herself talking to the animal as she milked, much as she might speak with a friend, knowing that the sound of her voice kept Daisy contented and placid.

      Joy

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