Chapter Eight
Erna’s heart swelled as the familiar sight of her sisters came into view. She rushed forward, her arms wide, embracing each sister in turn. Then she saw Hannah, whose serene eyes held a secret.
“Married to the pastor?” Erna exclaimed, her voice tinged with disbelief as she took in Hannah’s modest wedding band.
Hannah met her gaze, a small smile dancing on her lips. “Yes, can you believe it?” Her tone was light, betraying none of the gravity one might expect from such a revelation.
“Of all people,” Erna mused, shaking her head but unable to suppress the grin that followed. “You’re full of surprises.”
“Life is peculiar like that,” Hannah replied, her fingers absentmindedly playing with the delicate lace at her collar.
The conversation lingered in Erna’s mind as she returned to the ranch later that day with Joel at her side. They stood side by side before the weather-beaten fence, tools in hand, ready to mend what the storm had broken.
“Hand me that hammer, would you?” Joel’s voice cut through the stillness, low and steady.
“Here you go,” Erna said, passing him the tool. Their fingers brushed briefly, sending a jolt of warmth up her arm.
“Thanks,” he nodded, his focus returning to the splintered wood. Together, they worked in comfortable silence, measuring, cutting, and nailing with an ease born of mutual understanding.
“Looks good,” Erna said, stepping back to admire their handiwork.
“Couldn’t have done it without you,” Joel replied, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand.
“Teamwork,” she said.
“With my very favorite teammate,” Joel agreed, his gaze locking with hers for a moment longer than necessary.
ERNA HOISTED THE WATERINGcan, her brows furrowed in concentration as she tended to the berry bushes that lined the edge of the ranch. Joel was beside her, his hands deft as he pruned and picked the ripest of the fruits.
“Careful there,” he teased, a playful glint in his eye as he watched her wrestle with the spout. “Wouldn’t want to give these bushes more than they bargained for.”
“Nor you,” she replied with a laugh, but just as the words left her mouth, her grip slipped. Water cascaded over the rim, drenching not only the earth but Joel’s boots and trousers as well.
“Erna!” he exclaimed, more in amusement than dismay.
“Joel! I’m so sorry!” But Erna couldn’t help the laughter bubbling up inside her. Joel stood there, dripping and surprised, before his own chuckles joined hers. It was an unexpected shower on a hot Texas day, and the coolness was almost welcome.
“Looks like I got my share of watering too,” Joel shook his leg, sending droplets flying.
“Guess it’s time for a break anyway,” Erna suggested, still giggling as she set the can down. They left the bushes behind, half-soaked but spirits undampened.
Under a large oak tree, its branches a canopy against the midday sun, Erna spread a checkered cloth. She brought outbread she had baked earlier, along with slices of ham, and a jar of sweet preserves made from last year’s berries.
“Nothing like fresh bread,” Joel said appreciatively, taking a bite and nodding to her. “You’ve got a talent, Erna.”
“Thank you,” she said, pleased by the compliment.
They shared a smile. Sunlight filtered through the leaves above, dappling their faces with patches of warmth. The simple meal, the quiet rustle of the oak tree, and the gentle cadence of their conversation wove together into a tapestry of comfort and camaraderie.
“Days like this,” Joel said, looking out at the expanse of their land, “make all the hard work worth it.”
“Couldn’t agree more,” Erna said, her heart full. There was something about sharing a meal outside that made her feel anchored, connected — not just to the land, but to the man sitting across from her.
ERNA WIPED HER HANDSon her apron as she pulled the steaming cake from the oven, the sweet aroma of baked apples filling the air. She set it on the windowsill to cool, a small triumph in her day’s work.
“Smells like heaven,” Joel remarked, coming into the kitchen with a hint of dust still clinging to his shirt. He’d been out tending to the horses, but the scent of fresh cake had lured him back inside.
“Fresh from our orchard,” Erna said with a smile, slicing into the cake. “I thought we deserved a treat after all that fence mending.”
