A Family For The Farmer. Laurel Blount

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СКАЧАТЬ the truth, but I reckon you can believe it or not as it suits you. That doesn’t change the fact that you’re going to need some help around here at least at the beginning. I’m willing to give it. If you’re as smart as I think you are, you’ll put your feelings about all this aside and take me up on it. Otherwise I think you’re going to find yourself going under pretty quick.”

      Emily looked at him with her indecision written plainly on her face. She had an independent streak a mile wide, and apparently she’d gotten burned often enough not to trust people easily. Her suspicion was warring hard with her common sense, and from the look of things, it might take a while for the dust to settle there. In the meantime, Miss Sadie’s animals were already about an hour behind their normal eating schedules. They’d wasted enough time as it was.

      He had opened his mouth to say so when suddenly a bloodcurdling child’s scream came from the direction of the chicken pen.

      “Phoebe!” Emily bolted toward the noise.

      “Newman!” Abel overtook Emily in two strides and was inside the chicken coop in a flash. He pushed himself between the five-year-old and the angry bantam and swept up the sobbing little girl in his arms.

      “There, now,” he said to Phoebe, keeping his eyes on the tiny rooster, who was stalking around in the corner of the coop, his bright feathers standing out in an angry halo. “It’s all right. I’ve got you.”

      “He tried to claw me!” Phoebe snuffled moistly into Abel’s neck.

      “She went in to get an egg.” Paul spoke from outside the pen, his voice shaking. “I told her not to, but she wouldn’t listen. And then the rooster started chasing her and flying up at her!”

      “He was protecting his hens. It’s what good roosters do. Newman’s just not smart enough to figure out that you’re not going to hurt them, is all.”

      “He’s a bad, bad bird!” Phoebe peered around Abel’s neck at the little rooster, who crowed fiercely and ruffled his feathers. Phoebe promptly buried her face again, and Abel felt her little hands tighten.

      Something in his heart shifted strangely at the feel of those tiny fingers twisting in the fabric of his shirt, and Abel looked narrowly at the strutting rooster. Newman considered Abel’s expression, and some primal warning must have flashed in his walnut-sized brain. He settled his feathers and sidled into the depths of his corner, edging behind a fat black-striped hen, who squawked at him irritably.

      It looked like Newman was nobody’s favorite today.

      Emily was beside him now, tugging Phoebe free of his arms and carrying her out of the coop. She knelt down in front of her daughter and checked her over with worried hands.

      “I think he just scared her.” Abel shot another meaningful glance at the rooster, who meekly lowered his head and pretended to be interested in pecking at a piece of straw. Abel retrieved the egg that had caught Phoebe’s attention and latched the coop door securely behind himself.

      “That’s why we told you not to go into the coop, young lady.” Emily’s voice was tense and stern. “You could have gotten hurt. That rooster could have put your eye out.”

      In spite of himself Abel couldn’t help smiling a little. Emily was a mother all right. Mothers were always concerned about somebody putting an eye out. At least that was what he’d heard. Since his own mother had lit out when he was ten, he didn’t have a whole lot of firsthand knowledge in that department.

      “I wanted to get the egg,” Phoebe wailed, fresh tears starting.

      “And here it is. There’ll be more of them come morning. Next time, though, you’d better wait and let me go in there with you. Okay?” Abel handed over the smooth brown egg, and the tears stopped instantly.

      “I’m going to go put it in the ’frigerator!” she exclaimed happily, and she and Paul dashed out of the barn toward the house.

      “If that egg makes it all the way into a carton, I’ll be amazed,” Emily muttered under her breath. Then she glanced up at Abel. “Thanks.”

      “No problem.”

      “I guess Grandma’s rooster’s made your point for you. That scared me to death. Doing the chores around here and keeping an eye on the twins at the same time...well, it’s going to be a lot to manage. I couldn’t live with myself if Paul or Phoebe got hurt because I wasn’t paying attention.”

      She was probably overestimating the damage one pint-size rooster could have caused, but he figured it wouldn’t be to his advantage to mention that. “Neither could I.”

      “I guess if your offer still stands...” She trailed off.

      “It does.”

      “I don’t know how we can work this out, though. I can’t pay you. At least not until the farm sells.”

      Until the farm sells. The words stabbed at him, but he shoved the pain aside for the moment. “I’m not asking for any pay.”

      “Well, you’re not working here for free. That’s out of the question.” Emily’s chin went up mulishly. She didn’t want to be beholden to him. That was plain enough.

      This was going nowhere fast, and he had hungry animals to tend to. “You’d better get on back in the house with the little ones. You’ve probably got some egg to clean up by now.”

      The distraction worked. A tiny smile tickled around the corners of her lips. “You’re probably right.”

      “Here. Take this milk on in with you and get it strained and chilling. You remember how to do that, don’t you?”

      “Sure.” Emily reached over and took the full pail he held out to her. He winced a little when he saw her adjust her slim frame to balance its heft. He should offer to carry it for her. He’d always brought the milk pails in for Miss Sadie.

      But he had a feeling Emily needed to feel like she was carrying her weight, so he let it go. “While you’re tending to that, I’ll finish up with the animals. I’ll come up to the kitchen for a minute or two when I’m done, and we’ll hash out some kind of arrangement. All right?”

      Emily hesitated. She’d never been much on being told what to do, but she finally gave in. “All right.” She turned, carefully managing the milk bucket so it wouldn’t slop over on her pants, and headed back toward the farmhouse.

      Abel began to measure out feed to take to the goats in the west pasture. Judging by the level of pellets in the big can, he’d need to make another trip to the feed store soon. Beulah was running low on her alfalfa hay, too, and that stuff was wickedly expensive and not something they could grow on-site.

      As he began to think about everything he needed to explain to Emily, he felt his stomach tense up a little. There was a lot to managing even a small farm like Goosefeather. Stepping in cold turkey would have been a challenge for anybody, but for a city girl like Emily, it was going to be next door to impossible. Unless she was willing to accept his help, she was never going to meet the county extension agent’s standards for animal and crop care.

      And then there was the whole business about her plans to sell the farm. He’d expected that, but hearing her say it out loud had set him back a pace СКАЧАТЬ