Amish Romance Box Set: Finding Home by Brenda Maxfield

Author:Brenda Maxfield [Maxfield, Brenda]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Tica House Publishing LLC
Published: 2017-05-01T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Two

Naomi stood over the counter, dots of wayward flour up her arms. She pressed her hands into the bread dough, knotting and pulling and smoothing and plumping. She’d been kneading it for nearly twenty minutes, much longer than necessary. She’d probably have a loaf of rubber when it was baked. She sighed. That’s what you got when your mind wasn’t on the work at hand.

She gazed out the kitchen window and saw Zachariah King approach the house. His dark blue shirt hung a bit rumpled off his broad shoulders, and the left side was coming untucked, barely held in place by a black suspender. He wore a straw hat, which he removed as he drew close to the steps. He came around to the front door as if he were a proper guest, instead of the young farmer who was leasing her land. She’d told him time and again that he could come to the side door, but he always refused with an embarrassed look and his eyes cast to the ground.

Naomi blew out her breath and ran her hands over the edge of her kapp, ensuring that every hair was tucked securely in place. Then she smoothed down her dress, eliminating any wrinkles. Truth was that even when feeling her worst, Naomi Byler looked tidy and in control.

Too bad I don’t feel in control.

Isaac used to call her beautiful. She would feign dismay, knowing that personal vanity was to be avoided at all costs. But secretly, in her heart of hearts, Isaac’s loving compliments made her feel warm and secure and special. She grimaced. Life had now taught her only too well what vanity could bring. She shuddered. Did she really believe her moments of vanity had brought about her tragedy of loss? Did she really believe that’s how life worked?

There was a gentle rap on the front door. She walked to it, opened it wide, and gazed up at Zachariah.

His hat was off, and he fingered the wide brim, circling the diameter again and again with this calloused hands. “I wanted to let you know that I’ll get your payment to you by the end of the week.”

“I’m not worried,” she said, a kind smile on her face. “I know you’ll pay me.”

How she wished she could count on other things the way she could count on Zachariah’s payments. Shortly after the tragic accident, he’d come to her and asked if he could farm her family’s land. At first, she was hesitant. It seemed disloyal to allow someone else to work the land her father and husband had been so keen to farm. But after she realized the seriousness of her situation, she had agreed. And so far, it was working well. But she knew the summer and harvest season wouldn’t last forever, and then his payments would stop—until the next planting season. Hopefully.

“Zachariah?”

He glanced at her, and she noticed how starkly blue his eyes were. They reminded her of the deep color on the border of Ida Mae’s favorite quilt—true and bright and pleasant.

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