by Beth Wiseman
Adam set them inside the basin. “Chicken for supper tonight?” He wiggled his brows.
Despite her best intentions, she cracked a smile. “Are you inviting yourself?”
He nodded.
“Hmm.”
He smiled. “I’ll help you clean them.”
“They’re plucked. I’ve already done the hard part.”
“I know.”
The twinkle in his blue eyes dispatched a jolting current. It was no brotherly look. Goose bumps ran up Rosa’s arms, as bumpy as the naked chickens. She forced herself to look away. If she wasn’t careful she would fall for his caring and sweet nature.
Rosa turned on the tap and pretended to inspect the chickens. “I suppose I might have missed some feathers.”
He edged up next to her at the sink, his shoulder touching hers as he rolled up his cuffs. “I’ve never prepared a chicken. You’ll have to tell me what to do.”
Working this close was awkward. Even Uriah hadn’t helped her prepare a meal. “You can start by pulling any feathers I missed.” She pushed up the sleeves of her dress.
He inspected the first hen, then flipped it over.
“Do you think your mamm would want a chicken? I could send it with you.”
“Nee,” he was quick to reply. “She’s already made meat loaf. Besides, she’s nett that fond of chicken.”
She crinkled her brows. “I suppose chicken more than once a week does get old.”
“Nett to me. I’d rather eat chicken with you than meat loaf any day.”
With you. Rosa swallowed hard. He didn’t have to work very hard to lift her spirits. “Maybe supper isn’t such a gut idea.”
“There isn’t anything wrong.” He peered into her eyes. “Friends can spend time together.”
Her neck hairs bristled. “I don’t want to keep you from spending time with Claire Milner.”
“You’re nett.” He held up the chicken. “This one is ready.”
Gut. She needed a distraction. Rosa tapped the cutting board, and he lowered the chicken onto the wooden block. Distracted, she rummaged through the utensil drawer for a knife.
He leaned closer. “So how did I do? Did I miss any feathers?”
She pretended to look it over. “I think you could be a cook’s helper.”
“Danki, but I’ll stick with horse training.”
“Apparently you’re a gut trainer. You sold all of your horses.” She concentrated on cutting off the drumstick. The lighthearted banter between them faded as her thoughts shifted to the bleak situation with the neighbor. “I’m glad you found a buyer for them all.”
After a moment he nudged her arm with his elbow. “Something bothering you?”
Baited words. She was vulnerable enough to spill it all: The years of unpaid taxes, the endless hours of fretting over losing her farm, the prospect of moving to Ohio. Even, if she wasn’t careful, the pain of being childless. A red truck pulled into the driveway. Adam lowered the chicken back into the sink and washed his hands. “This won’t take long.” He wiped his wet hands on the side of his pants as he hurried out of the kitchen.
“Sorry I’m late.” The driver climbed out of his truck.
“That’s no problem. I was helping a friend with her chickens.” Adam went to the opposite side of the trailer as the driver unlatched the ramp. Now that the horses had arrived, he was anxious to get them unloaded so he could show Rosa the fillies.
Adam eased the heavy ramp down as the driver guided the other side. He made a makeshift halter from a piece of rope and led the sorrel gelding into the corral. The fillies were last to leave the trailer and jumpy. One nipped and another one lifted her front hooves and pawed at the air.
“Easy, girls.” Adam tightened the hold on the ropes. They were too young and high strung to release into the ring, so he placed them in the larger stall and removed the rope halters. Adam filled the trough with fresh water and tossed them some hay. Pleased with the new stock, he jogged to the house.
“Rosa,” Adam called from the back door. “Will you kumm out to the barn for a minute?”
She came around the corner, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “It’s nett another dead chicken, is it?”
“Nee, nothing like that. I want to show you something.”
Midway to the barn, her eyes locked on the corral and she froze. “You bought more horses?”
“Ya. That’s what trainers do. Buy, train, sell . . . then buy more. What’s wrong?”
She didn’t move.
“Kumm on. I want to show you the ones inside the barn.”
“There’s more?” She cringed. “Ach, Adam.”
He reached for her elbow and gave it a slight tug. This wasn’t the reaction he had expected. “You’ll love the ones inside.”
He directed her to the large stall at the far side of the barn. “What do you think?”
She stared for a moment, then reached between the fence rails. The chestnut-colored filly nuzzled her outstretched hand. “They’re beautiful.”
“Nau I have mei girls in the barn, and you have your girls in the coop.” He chuckled, but stifled it when it came out sounding nervous. “I thought maybe you would like to name them.”
She shook her head, retracting her hand from inside the pen.
“Why nett? You name your chickens.”
She pushed away from the stall. “I wish you had said something before you bought them.”
“This upsets you?”
“I, ah . . .” She brushed past him and headed out the door.
“Rosa?” He followed across the lawn. “Tell me why you’re upset.”
She walked faster.
He reached for her arm and stopped her before she started up the porch steps. “This isn’t like you. Why are you running off?”
“Things changed when the dog attacked mei chickens again. You can’t keep the horses here.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You have to move them.” She lowered her head, and he had to bend to look into her eyes.
“That isn’t going to be easy. I just bought eight horses.”
Her shoulders straightened as she drew in a breath. “You have twenty days to find another place to keep them.”
Chapter Six
Adam tried to recall Rosa’s exact words. Something about the dog and another chicken attack. But what did that have to do with him keeping his horses? And twenty days. What kind of a notice was that? He couldn’t find a place to keep eight horses in that short time.
She turned toward the house and Adam waited, stifling the urge to question her. He had to find out what was going on with her. He wanted to understand her. But she said nothing, just disappeared inside without so much as a glance in his direction.
If he remembered correctly, Uriah would drive her to town for ice cream whenever she was upset about something. But Adam doubted she would be willing to go into town with him. Besides, ice cream might make matters worse if it reminded her of Uriah.
Maybe he frightened her by admitting he wanted to have supper alone with her. She had turned somber only moments before the truck arrived.
“Lord, I’m nett any gut at figuring out women,” he muttered. As he plodded toward the barn, he looked back once. But she wasn’t standing at the window.
Adam grabbed the pitchfork and stabbed at a mound of hay. He filled the wheelbarrow and carted the feed outside to the horses. He took his time tossing the hay over the fence, talking to the horses, returning the wheelbarrow to the barn. He still had plenty of time before supper. If he arrived too early, Rosa might cancel. He wouldn’t risk it.
A handful of clucking hens met him near the barn door and followed him to the coop. The chickens triggered an idea far better than ice cream. If he left now, he might have enough time to get to town before the feed store closed.
He jogged home.
Entering the house, his mother called out from the kitchen, “I’m making meat loaf.”
“I was invited
to supper,” he called back. “I’m heading into town nau.”
Adam went directly to his room, washed up, and changed his clothes. It was the second time this week he wore his Sunday clothes, and it wasn’t even Sunday.
The last canning jar lid popped. The chicken safely sealed, Rosa twisted the ring into place and pushed the hot jars to the back of the counter. After telling Adam he needed to find a new place for his horses, she didn’t expect him for supper. And she wasn’t hungry either, but the raw chicken wouldn’t keep.
Earlier in the day she had gone down to the cellar, brought up carrots and red potatoes, and left them soaking in a pot of salted water. It was more than she could eat, but they wouldn’t save for another day. She put the vegetables on to boil, then heated the skillet to fry the chicken.
Someone knocked on the door just as she added the last piece of chicken to the pan.
Adam smiled warmly from the other side of the screen door, as though their earlier conversation had never taken place. “I hope I’m nett late.”
“Nee.” She eyed his white shirt, dark pants, and black hat. He only wore those clothes on Sundays. She looked beyond him to his tied horse. “You drove your buggy from next door?”
“I had an errand to do in town.”
“In your Sunday clothes?”
He arched an eyebrow. “I hope we’re nett going to talk all nacht with the screen door between us.”
Rosa pushed open the door. “I didn’t mean to put you on the spot about your clothes. It was merely an observation.”
He stepped inside and leaned closer. “You sound like mei mudder.”
True, Rosa was older than he was, but only by two years. It wasn’t as if—
She sniffed. “Mei carrots!”
Rosa turned toward the stove to see dark smoke curling toward the ceiling. The pot had boiled dry. She grabbed a couple of potholders and carried the hot pan to the sink. “Nee carrots for supper.”
“That’s okay.” He sidled up beside her. “Close your eyes.”
She turned off the tap water and shut her eyes. Beside her she heard a strange chirping sound and opened her eyes to see a tiny chick cupped in his hands.
“For you,” he said.
She shook her head and frowned. No more animals.
“What? You don’t like mei gift?”
The little bird chirped. She wasn’t sure which looked more out of sorts, the bird or Adam.
He extended his cupped hands. “I think she’s calling you.”
She hesitated. Then, unable to resist the baby chick, she tossed the potholders on the counter and reached out for it. “It’s cute.” She had almost forgotten what it was like to hold a fuzzy peeping chick.
Adam blew out an exaggerated breath. “You had me worried for a minute.”
“Danki, but I can’t keep it.” She went to give it back, but he threw his hands up in the air. “Adam!”
He backed up. “You love your chickens.”
She stepped toward him.
“Are you really turning it down?” He sighed and took the baby chick from her hands. “I should’ve brought you ice cream.”
“Ice cream?”
He looked down at the floor. “You were upset over losing your chickens . . .”
“What does that have to do with ice cream?”
He shrugged one shoulder. “Uriah used to take you into town for a treat when you were upset over something.”
She and Uriah had eaten a lot of ice cream. Every time she suffered a miscarriage. Rosa sighed. “I can’t believe he told you about that.”
“We were like bruders.”
Rosa fell silent. She had been so caught up in her own losses that she hadn’t given much thought to Adam losing his best friend. “You meant a great deal to him.” She cleared her throat. “And you’re like a bruder to me.”
It obviously wasn’t the right thing to say. He stared at her, his eyes glazed with sorrow.
She motioned to the chick. “So it was between ice cream and a chick.” She sighed. “Ice cream would have been simpler.”
He smiled. “But this darling won’t melt.”
“Where am I going to keep it? It’s too young to go out to the coop with the other chickens.”
“Hold that thought.” He handed her the chick and rushed to the door.
Adam hoisted the oversized wooden crate containing the baby chicks from the back end of the buggy. Now that Rosa had accepted the one, it shouldn’t be too difficult to convince her to keep them all.
As he reentered the house with the crate, she stepped cautiously toward him, her head tilted slightly. “Is that more peeps I’m hearing?”
“You wouldn’t want to break up the family.” He spotted an area out of the way, yet close to the heat of the woodstove, and lowered the crate to the floor.
“Just how large is the family?”
“A dozen.”
She gasped.
“You were upset over losing your chickens. I thought you would want to replace them.”
“I need laying hens. Nett some straight-run batch of chicks from a hatchery. They’re probably cockerels, and I certainly don’t need more roosters.” She rubbed her temple. “I can’t afford them.”
“I bought feed already.” At the time, he thought this was a good idea. Especially since he’d never known anyone to cry so hard over losing a few chickens. But something was wrong. She seemed even more troubled than earlier today, when she told him to find a new place for his horses.
He crossed the distance between them. “I’ll build a brooder box.”
“It’s more than that,” she muttered, turning away from him.
“Should I have bought the gallon of ice cream?”
She cracked a smile.
“What flavor do you like? Chocolate? Vanilla? I’ll even buy you the fancy stuff with chunks of brownies or cookie dough.”
She shook her head. “You’re a gut friend, Adam.”
Friend. Well, he supposed it could be worse. Especially since she had just said he was like a brother.
“I hope this means you’ll reconsider allowing me to keep my horses here.”
Her smile vanished and she lowered her head.
“Rosa, please.” He shifted his feet. “Eight horses are going to be hard to place.”
“That’s why I gave you almost three weeks.”
He groaned.
A barking dog broke the tension.
Her eyes widened. She thrust the baby chick at his chest, rushed past him, and removed the gun from the rack on the wall. Rosa stormed outside as he juggled to keep from dropping the chick.
Adam lowered it to the floor. He would put it in the box with the others later. First, he needed to get the gun away from Rosa.
Before he took his first step, a shot rang out.
Chapter Seven
“Have you lost your mind?” Adam snatched the shotgun from Rosa as the dog’s yelp faded into the distance. He set the gun’s safety lock.
Rosa covered her face with her hands. “I hit him, didn’t I?”
How did she want him to respond? Be pleased for her?
“The dog’s nett dead, if that’s what you’re asking.” He stormed to his buggy, set the gun inside, then grabbed the lantern he kept in the back and lit it.
“Are you going to look for the dog?”
“Nee,” he snapped. “I’m going to check on mei horses.”
“I’ll get another lantern.” She whirled toward the house.
“Rosa, just go inside.” His horses hadn’t calmed down yet, and he didn’t want her making matters worse. At times the woman lacked any sort of judgment. “Please,” he said. “Wait in the haus.”
The startled horses had vaulted to the opposite end of the corral. He lifted the lantern higher and counted, then counted again. None appeared harmed, but they were visibly distressed, and might trample him if he were to crawl through the fence to get a closer view.
Inside the barn, the three fillies gree
ted him at the stall gate. He checked Bolt and Thunder next. Rosa’s draft team was fine, as was her buggy mare. He blew out a breath. The dog’s fate might be another issue, but the horses weren’t injured.
Adam leaned against the stall. “God, I think the stress of losing Uriah has finally caused her to crack.”
He hung his head. Uriah died in the barn fire to save him, but he couldn’t save his friend’s wife from herself. How could losing a few chickens trigger that type of erratic reaction?
The door creaked on its hinges and lantern light flickered from the opposite side of the barn. He groaned under his breath as Rosa approached.
She stopped a few feet from him. “Is everything all right?”
“The horses are fine.” Her sudden timid stance tore at his heart. He stepped closer. “We should leave them alone.”
“I’m going to look for the dog,” she said, looking off into the field.
“Nee, you’re nett.” His tone was firm.
She snapped up her head. “Adam, I have to. The dog yelped, that means it’s injured.”
“Did you see the dog? Do you even know if it was your neighbor’s?”
“You sound like Tate Wade. He refused to admit his dog killed mei chickens. Nau look what happened.”
“And I suppose if you killed his dog, you’re even. Are you pleased?”
“Nee!” Her glassy eyes flickered with lantern light.
A stretch of silence passed between them. He cleared his throat. “I don’t want you searching for an injured animal. They tend to attack.”
“Ya, mei chickens,” she muttered under her breath.
“What’s done is done.” He placed his hand on her shoulder and turned her toward the house. “Go back inside.”
She lowered her head and shuffled away.
“Rosa?”
She turned. “Ya?”
“Do you have any more guns in the haus?”
She shook her head.
She wasn’t getting this one back either. Not until he was certain she wouldn’t shoot at something else. As she slipped into the house, he removed the twenty-pound bag of chick feed from his buggy and left it on her porch next to the door.
