His Prairie Sweetheart. Erica Vetsch

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СКАЧАТЬ the farm. Pa homesteaded it right after the war. He held on through the grasshopper years, and now it’s doing pretty well. When the option came to buy the two sections to the west, Tyler and I purchased them, and we run the farm together.” Elias turned the horse in through an open gate. “We run sheep and cattle and raise wheat and corn. I raise and train a few horses every year and help Pa on the farm when I can.”

      “And do you live here?”

      “Sort of. Since I’m the town sheriff, I have a room on the back of the jail, but half the time I stay out here. It’s only a couple miles from town, and I have a part-time deputy, Bjorn. He lives in town, so he keeps an eye on things.” Elias shrugged. “Upholding the law isn’t too difficult in Snowflake. There’s usually time for a bit of farm work.”

      A pretty frame house with flowers in pots on the porch sat at the end of the drive. A few trees had been planted, giving the place a settled, homey look. A large barn with lots of fences took up a big part of the farmyard, and beyond the barn, crops stretched far away.

      If only she could board here, she would have a bedroom she could stand upright in.

      Savannah struck down that ungrateful thought. The Halvorsons were generous to board her, and she should be thankful, cramped loft or not.

      Mr. and Mrs. Parker met them at the door. “Come on in, Miss Cox. We’re sure glad you’re here,” Mr. Parker said in greeting. He was tall and broad like Elias, with silver dusting his dark hair and crow’s feet showing at the corners of his eyes.

      Mrs. Parker nodded and smiled. “Ja, ve are glad. Tyler vas very happy to haff a teacher for this fall for the barn.”

      Savannah blinked, both at the word and the accent. “I’m sorry. The barn?”

      “Oh, my pardon. Elias?” Her brows scrunched together as she looked to her son.

      “Barn is the Norwegian word for children.”

      “I’ll tuck that away to use on Monday.” Savannah smiled at Mrs. Parker. “Perhaps I can come to you for some lessons in speaking Norwegian. I think I will need them in order to best teach the barn. Now I understand how it is that Elias speaks fluent Norwegian and English.”

      “Yep.” Mr. Parker beamed, putting his arm around his wife. “I am a blessed man to have found my sweet bride fresh off a boat from Norway. I grabbed her up before anyone else could.” His pride in his wife shone in his eyes.

      The meal was delicious, though Savannah had never seen food prepared the way Mrs. Parker had done it. Creamed rutabaga, dilled cucumber and a roasted meat, either beef or lamb, she wasn’t sure.

      “Elias...” Mr. Parker sat back after patting his wife’s hand. “Why don’t you take Miss Cox outside and show her around. I’m sure she’d enjoy a bit of a walk after a meal like that.”

      Savannah laid her napkin aside. “Let me help clear the table first.”

      “Nonsense. I can help my wife clean up. You go get some fresh air.”

      Elias pulled out her chair for her and held the door.

      “Son, while you’re out there, walk round the sheep, will you? Captain’s keeping watch. They’re in the close pasture.”

      “Yes, sir.”

      Savannah and Elias strolled past the sapling trees toward the barn. A breeze brushed her cheeks, and though it was warm, she was grateful for it. Without any wind, the day would be stifling. How a place this warm got the name Snowflake, she’d never know.

      “Captain watches the sheep all by himself? I mean, with no shepherd?” She tilted her parasol to shade her face.

      “Yep. Pa can’t afford to hire a shepherd just for the couple hundred sheep he runs, so he relies on Captain to look after the flock. He has another dog, too, but she’s expecting puppies any day now, so Pa’s keeping her close to the house. I’m not sure if he was as excited about his own sons’ births as he is about this litter.” Elias bent and plucked a long grass stem from along a fence line, bending it and snapping off little pieces as they walked.

      “You said you have horses here?”

      “Sure, almost a dozen head right now. They’re in the pasture behind the barn.”

      “Could we see them?” Savannah lifted her hem to step across the dusty ruts left by farm wagons.

      “You like horses?”

      “Oh, yes. I’m a very good equestrienne. Many Southern women are. I had riding lessons from the time I was a child.” A pang hit her heart. Girard had taken her riding many times. It was one of the things they shared, a love of horses.

      “Too bad you’re not dressed for it. I’d saddle up a couple of horses. We could ride round the sheep that way.” He threw away the last piece of grass stem.

      “It wouldn’t matter how I was dressed if you had a sidesaddle. I’d risk my Sunday silk for a chance to ride.” It had been much too long since she’d been on horseback.

      “Are you serious?” He tilted his head, studying her.

      “Of course I am.”

      “I forgot, you’re always serious.” He shrugged. “As it happens, we do have a sidesaddle. If you’re sure, I’ll bring in the horses.”

      Elias ducked into the barn and emerged with a pail half-full of grain in his hand and two halters slung over his shoulder. “Come around this way.”

      At the pasture gate, he whistled and clanked the handle against the bucket, shaking the oats. Heads came up from grazing, and several horses started toward him. Bays, chestnuts, a gray with a black mane and tail.

      Elias scattered some of the grain on the ground, shouldering his way among the horses. “Which one would you choose?”

      Savannah eyed them, knowing he was testing her. “The buckskin with the blaze. He looks like he could move.”

      “Hmm, you’ve a good eye. That’s my horse, Buck. And you’re right, he’s fast. But he’s not a lady’s mount.”

      “How about the gray mare?”

      He paused. “She’s new, and I haven’t ridden her much. I bought her over in Pipestone for a broodmare. She’s got good lines, and I think I’d get some nice foals out of her. But she’s a quick mover and she likes to run.” He frowned. “Maybe I should put you up on my ma’s horse, Gresskar.” Pointing at a round little chestnut with a shaggy mane and knobby knees, he reached for the halter on his shoulder. “Gresskar means pumpkin.”

      “I told you I could ride. I’d like the gray. She won’t unseat me.” Savannah gripped her parasol. The man didn’t think she could do anything. “What’s her name? The gray?”

      “Elsker.”

      Was that a blush reddening his cheeks?

      “Elsker? What does that mean?”

      He shrugged, not СКАЧАТЬ