The Farmer's Bride by Kathleen Fuller

Author:Kathleen Fuller
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Zondervan
Published: 2019-06-03T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

“Do we really have to sneak around like this?” Martha asked.

Seth stopped a few feet from the copse of trees by Jalon Chupp’s house. More than once he’d wished he’d built his shed farther away from the pond. But if he had, he’d be spending precious time traveling, taking away from the time he could be woodcarving. “Shh.” He put his finger to his lips and cocked his head. “Do you hear anything?” he whispered.

“Birds. Crickets. Then there was that goat screech back there—”

Seth put his finger over her lips. “Don’t you know how to whisper?”

“Ya,” she said against his finger, then moved his hand away.

He took a step back. What had gotten into him tonight? From the moment he’d agreed to Martha’s scheme and then come up with his own—he was oh so very tired of schemes—he’d given 100 percent to making her parents think they fancied each other. Surprisingly, it hadn’t been that difficult. It also hadn’t been that unpleasant. During their meal, he’d felt comfortable with her parents, and the food was delicious. He’d also noticed how pretty Martha’s eyes were again, since they had sat so close to each other purposely. Not just her eyes, but her whole face. And when they were putting the puzzle pieces together, he also realized how elegant her hands were. Normally he didn’t care about such things, but for some reason he couldn’t take his eyes off her—when she wasn’t looking, of course.

And now he had touched her lips. Granted, she was being a bit loud. Well, loud might be an exaggeration, but she certainly wasn’t quiet. He knew Ira and the Bontragers had to be at the pond by now, and he didn’t want to draw their attention. But he didn’t have to put his finger over Martha’s lips to accomplish that. He could have just shushed her verbally.

But then he wouldn’t have felt her soft lips. Her very soft lips.

“Sorry.” He whirled around and headed for the shed. He needed to get tonight over with. Then things could go back to normal. Except they wouldn’t. Not with his father’s glaucoma and the responsibility he’d handed Seth. Responsibility he honestly didn’t want but would make sure he fulfilled.

To Martha’s credit she didn’t say another word as they made their way to the shed. It was dusk, but he had plenty of lights in the woodshop. He unlocked the door, turned on the lamp on the table near the door, and walked to the back while Martha closed the door behind them. He plugged his two fans into battery power and then flipped them on. The muggy, still air stirred. The fans didn’t do much to cool off the shed, but they provided a bit of relief. He didn’t anticipate they would be here that long anyway.

He went to the pegboard against the wall where he hung all his tools. At least he’d hung all his tools at first. Now almost all of them were scattered all over his workbench and the shelving unit.

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