Melting Hearts by Kathleen Fuller

Author:Kathleen Fuller
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Zondervan
Published: 2019-09-06T16:00:00+00:00

5

THAT EVENING, MATTIE SPREAD SOME OF THE YARN SHE’D bought on what space was left on the coffee table in the living room. Carolyn had decorated it earlier that day with a pine bough and a candle for Christmas. Then she put the rest of the skeins on the couch cushion beside her. She had a variety of yarn—some bulky, some baby fine, some dark, some light. It was enough to make quite a few hats, scarves, and mittens for Noelle’s charity box. Now she needed to roll the yarn into balls. It was tedious work, but if she didn’t do it, the yarn would tangle as she used it. And she’d rather make the balls all at once to get it over with.

She was on her third skein when Peter walked into the room, eating an apple. He paused at the foot of the stairs and watched her. She was aware of him, which annoyed her, just like she’d been aware of the feel of his hand as she’d shaken it. It was cold, as expected, and roughly calloused, which she’d also expected. What she hadn’t expected was the shiver that traveled down her spine when they touched. The pleasant shiver. Maybe that was what every girl felt when she shook a boy’s hand.

Not a boy. Peter was a man, and for some reason she’d become more aware of that too. Not to mention becoming more aware that her shoulder did hurt. He was right. She might have to put some ice on it.

Peter held his apple in midair. “What are you doing?”

“Making yarn balls.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s easier to crochet that way.”

“You going to do all of them?”

“Ya.” She continued to wind the forest-green yarn in her hands.

“You realize you’ll be here all night.”

He was exaggerating, but it would take her a couple of hours to wind them all. “Nee, I won’t.” She focused on her task, and then she heard him crunch another bite of his apple before she heard footsteps. He’d gone into the kitchen, not up the stairs.

A few minutes later he was back and sat down in the chair near the couch. He picked up a skein of baby-pink yarn. “How do you do this?”

She looked at him. “You want to help me?”

“Why not? Atlee and Carolyn might turn in early, but that doesn’t mean I have to.” He started to pull on one of the yarn ends.

“Wait.” She took the skein from him. “Don’t do it like that. You’ll get it tangled.” She proceeded to show him how to wind the yarn into a ball, and then she handed it to him, certain he’d get bored with the process soon and leave.

He took the ball and the skein and started winding. The doors to the woodstove were open, and although the flames inside were low, she could hear the crackle of the fire, and the cozy scent of burning wood filled the room. Outside, the wind had picked up, and she heard a distant howl as they wound yarn in the low light of the gas lamp.

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