Adam swung a horseshoe in his arm and glanced at the men. "I'd never met anyone like her before. Nor have I since."
Matty's wife approached holding a bundled infant in her arms. Adam hoped that meant this inquisition was over.
She handed off the baby to her husband, who promptly looked at Adam. "You like babies?"
He laughed again, a little disbelieving. "I don't know." He'd never held one before that he could remember.
The dinner bell rang, saving him from what he was sure would turn into a display of baby-holding skills and probably a critique when he messed it up.
Relieved, he headed toward the tables, where the family was gathering. Breanna was placing another basket on the nearer table. When she looked up and caught his eye, he feared she would leave him to fend for himself. But a push from behind—Walt? Or her mother?—sent her toward him.
Everyone stood with heads bowed and hats off while Jonas blessed the food. Then it was a scramble as everyone took their seats.
He ended up on Breanna's right side, young Ida across from them, with another little dark-haired girl and a woman he thought was named Sarah on her opposite side. Breanna's father sat beside her, murmuring to a fussy toddler.
As the serving dishes were passed, Adam leaned close enough that his shoulder brushed Breanna's. "For a second there, I thought you were going to leave me to the wolves."
Breanna wasaware of the sun on her shoulders as she squinted at the man beside her. "I still might."
He quirked a charming smile. "Have pity on me."
Walt bobbled the basket of rolls, but Adam saved it, taking it from the boy before they could spill to the ground. Overhead, the breeze rustled pine needles.
Adam passed the basket to her. "They are very protective, your brothers."
He had no idea. How many times had she felt suffocated under the watchful eyes of her older brothers?
Even Ma and Pa.No fighting, they always said. Even though the boys were allowed to scuffle.Mind your manners, they admonished. Even though the boys could get away with being impolite.
He leaned closer so he could speak into her ear. "Forgive me for being impertinent, but did your father have a first wife? Each of your brothers is very different from the other."
She looked around at the noisy group. She'd grown so used to it. They were her family, after all. And everyone in Bear Creek knew them. She'd forgotten how her family could present itself to outsiders.
"We're all adopted. All seven of the older boys. And me."
"All of you?"
She nodded and didn't even miss a beat as she smiled. "All eight of us." It didn't even hurt to say it.
"Breanna, could you hold him for a moment?"
Not Catherine too. But her newest sister-in-law passed the baby to Breanna before disappearing inside the house with her husband. Hopefully only for a moment.
Breanna snugged the baby in the crook of her arm, gazing down on the little face with its wrinkled nose. It sure seemed every one of the females around her were conspiring to match her with the Easterner.
Every time Breanna had passed inside to grab a serving dish and set up the tables, Ma had been aflutter in the kitchen. Vacillating betweenwhy hadn't Breanna told her sooner that they'd have a guestandhe's so handsomeandwhat if our fare is too simple for him?
Breanna thought that if the roast and potatoes was beneath him, she'd rather find out now. Her culinary skills were on the same level as her mother's, passable but not accustomed to fixing anything fancy.
With Breanna's arms filled with baby Nancy, Adam was left to fill his own plate. Judging by the mounds of potatoes and slab of meat, her mother's worries were for naught. And while she'd been looking down at the baby, he'd begun filling her plate too.
She raised one brow at him. He winked and offered her a bowl of creamed spinach.
Before she could decline, Ida spoke from across the table. "Breanna don't like spinach."
Her face heated even though Adam passed the bowl to her pa without a teasing comment.
And then Velma decided to chime in from next to Ida. "She don't much like bein' bossed around neither. You a bossy sort?"
