A Heart's Blessing - Linda Ford Page 0,8

any offer.

“I’ll let you know right now I don’t intend to take no for an answer.” He saw the water pails had little left in them and took them out to the pump.

Kent followed. “Are you mad at us?”

The boy had every right to be concerned. Ryder sucked in a deep breath and pushed away his inner turmoil. He smiled at Kent and touched his head. Fine, soft hair. A child’s hair. Dark, like his own. “I’m not angry. Just regretful.” About so many things.

“’Cause Sally was in your shop?”

“No, because I left something on the floor that caused your aunt’s injury.” He pumped water into the first pail and hung the second one to fill it. “You want to pump?”

“Sure.” Kent grabbed the handle and with a great deal of effort, pushed it down to send a gush of water into the pail. He did it over and over until the pail was full, then stood back, panting. “I sometimes get water for Aunt Delcie, but I can’t carry a full pail yet. You think I’ll get as big and strong as you when I grow up?”

Ryder studied Kent hard, had him turn around. “Yup. I’d say you got all the markings of becoming a big fella. Then you’ll be able to help the ladies lots and lots.”

“I will.” Kent grinned, pleased at Ryder’s comment. “I help now, but I’m too small to do much.”

This boy seemed to long for approval. Ryder squeezed his shoulder. “I’ve seen you helping. You do a good job. Keep it up. Now, do you want to help me take this water in? Then maybe you can show me what else needs doing around here.”

“Sure.” Kent took the handle of a pail, his hand next to Ryder’s. Ryder let enough weight shift to the boy that he felt he was assisting.

They went inside, set the pails on the cupboard, and then Ryder turned to Kent. “Wood?”

Kent nodded.

Ryder didn’t look at either woman as he and Kent returned outside and filled their arms with wood. They carried it in and dumped it in the woodbox. Ryder straightened and looked around.

Miss Morton sat close to the table with her foot up on a stool. She chopped carrots and dropped them into a pot. She might think she was proving something, though he wasn’t sure what. Maybe that she was impervious to pain. Or that she would do what she deemed her share no matter how much it hurt. And he knew it hurt. Her pain was evident in the tightness around her mouth.

Kent pressed close to Ryder’s side. He got the impression the boy craved approval. Or maybe he longed for male companionship. Reminded Ryder of how much he enjoyed going with his pa and helping him.

“Now what?” he asked of anyone who cared to listen.

“We’re fine,” Miss Fisher said. “Thank you.” She took the pot of carrots from Miss Morton and put it on the stove where other pots simmered. A roaster held a large piece of cooked meat. Venison, by the smell that filled his mouth with warm saliva.

“We can manage.” Miss Morton sounded far from fine.

Sally sat on a stool by the table, lost in her quiet chatter to a well-worn rag doll.

Ryder smiled. Such innocence was a pleasure to observe. It was something that should be guarded as long as possible in a child.

“Someone’s wanting something.” Kent pointed toward the dining room where a man and woman stood at the glass-fronted display case that held an array of baked goods.

“Oh my. I never heard them come in.” Miss Fisher hurried away to wait on them.

The carrots boiled, the pot bubbling over on the stove.

Miss Morton made to get up.

Ryder sprang toward the stove and grabbed the lid. “Ow. Ow.” He looked around for a place to drop the lid and settled for dropping it back on the pot. He blew on his burnt fingers. “That was hot.”

Sally giggled.

He grinned at her. “I know. I should have realized it.” He blew on his fingers again. “Guess I wasn’t thinking.”

Water bubbled over on the stove and this time he grabbed a potholder that lay nearby and lifted the lid. He looked at Miss Morton, silently asking what next.

“Shove the pot to the back of the stove and put the lid on, tipping it so the steam escapes.”

He did so then looked back at Miss Morton. Did he detect a glint of humor in her eyes? He tried to think if he minded. Decided he