Love Inspired March 2015 - Box Set 1 of 2: A Wife for Jacob\The Forest Ranger's Rescue\Alaskan Homecoming (4 page)

“We were just talking about you,” Samuel said.

Jacob raised his eyebrows as he approached with iced tea and cookies and set them down. “What about?”

“Joe wants to ask you something,” his father
said.

He glanced back and forth between the two older men.
“Ja?”
He was pleased to note that Joe looked much better since his return home nearly two weeks before. The color had returned to the older man's cheeks. But Joe couldn't get around well yet.

Joe tried to adjust his leg, and Jacob's
dat
helped him shift it to a more comfortable position. “You must know that I still have weeks of recovery before me.” Jacob nodded. “I go back to the doctor next Tuesday.” The older man suddenly seemed uncertain. “I was wondering, Jake...”

Concerned, Jacob placed a hand on his shoulder. “What is it, Joe?”

“Would
ya
consider taking over for me until I'm well?” Joe asked quickly. Seated next to him in a wooden chair, Jacob's father was nodding.

Jacob stepped back. “You want me to take over your work in the shop?” He thought of Annie. Maybe he shouldn't accept the job. He didn't want to antagonize the woman further, if he could help it. But how could he deny Joe his assistance, especially since the thought of returning to the art of blacksmithing tempted him?

Joe nodded. “If you would. I know you're busy, but you would be a big help, if you could. If not, I'll understand.” He reached up to rub his bearded chin. “I'll pay you for your work.”

“
Nay
, if I do this, you'll not be paying me.” Jacob picked up the cookies, placed them within Joe's reach and then chose to sit across the room. He suffered a moment of doubt but couldn't ignore the expectant look on Horseshoe Joe's face. He sighed inwardly. Annie wouldn't like it, but he had to help out Joe. “I'll be more than happy to help
you
, Joe.” While the idea of working in the shop thrilled him, it also gave him a little chill. “It's been years since I helped—bothered—you with my interest in blacksmithing. I was only a boy.”

“At twelve, you were hardly a boy. You have a talent for the job, son. I had faith in you then, and I have faith that you can do the work now.” He grinned. “And I'll be nearby if
ya
happen to need me.”

“Josiah doesn't want to step in?”

Joe shook his head. “He never learned about forging metal, never wanted to. You are the only one who took an interest in my work and my business. You and my girls, Annie and Barbara, who liked to watch when they were younger.”

“And I liked to be in the thick of everything,” Jacob agreed.

“
Ja
, you did.” Joe exchanged glances with Jacob's father.

“Will
you
do it, Jake?” his father asked.

“Heat and bend metal, watch it glow?” Jacob grinned. “
Ja
, I'll do it.”

“Do what?” Annie asked as she entered the room with clear glasses. She set them down, picked up the pitcher and began to pour out the tea.

“Jacob's agreed to fill in for me at the shop,” Joe said.

“That's nice of him,” Annie said after a lengthy pause. When she shot him an angry glance, Jacob raised an eyebrow at her.

He noted a bit of flour dust on her cheek and in her hair. She wore a patchwork apron over a spring-green dress. A few strands of her blond hair had escaped from the edge of her prayer
kapp
,
where she must have wiped cinnamon from her forehead with the back of her hand. The cinnamon was still there—barely. He could detect the scent rather than see any of the spice's warm brown color.

As she worked to fill each glass, he watched emotion play across her features. It moved so fast no one else might have noticed, but he did. She wasn't happy that he'd be coming to the farm daily. She hadn't known about her father's plan. Jacob felt a smile start, but he stifled it until she briefly looked his way, and then he released it.

“That will be a great help to
Dat
,” she said, turning away, and his amusement grew.

“
Ja
, I'll be around to help every day—” he glanced toward Joe “—or whenever
ya
need me to come.”

“Can you start tomorrow?” Joe asked.

Jacob looked to his father. “Can you make do without me on the farm?”

His
dat
nodded. “I've plenty of help.” He turned toward his friend. “Tomorrow will be fine, Joe.”

“Then I'll be here then.” Jacob watched Joe reach for a cookie. Recalling his enjoyment of his first one, he reached for another. Annie Zook was a fine baker. He flashed Annie an admiring glance as she turned to stare at him, before she looked away. He continued to study her. For some reason, she always found fault with him. He didn't know what bothered her about him, but he was sure he'd find out eventually. For now, he had to concentrate on doing a good job at Zook's Blacksmithy. “I'll not let you down, Joe,” he said.

Horseshoe Joe swallowed before answering. “Never thought
ya
would.” He grinned as he brought the cookie to his lips. “I know you'll do me proud,” he said before taking another bite.

“If not,”
Dat
said, “he'll have to answer to me.” His teasing tone made Jacob smile.

“It's not you I worry about,
Dat
.”

“
Nay
, it's your
mudder
.” And the three men laughed together at his father's remark, while Annie scurried out of the room.

Chapter Four

J
acob stood in the center of Zook's Blacksmithy and examined the shop. He felt a little nervous pull in his gut. Could he do this and do it well? His attention focused on the tools hanging on the wall: metal tongs, cross-peen hammers and other various tools for shaping metal, before it moved to the steel anvil not far from the brick forge.

You must be careful you don't burn yourself, Jacob,
Joe had warned him time and again when he was a boy.
Hold these tongs just so—
The man had shown him how to use the tool.
These will get hot, as well.
He had gestured toward his leather apron.
This garment protects my clothes from sparks and heat.

One particular day after Jacob, as a young boy, had been coming to the shop for weeks, Joe had pulled out a slightly smaller version of his leather apron and handed it to him. Jacob had accepted the garment with wide eyes, pleased that Joe trusted him enough to let him try his hand at blacksmithing.

The memory of Joe's patient voice calmed him. Suddenly, everything within the shop seemed familiar again. He just had to remember all the things that Joe had taught him, and he'd do fine.

“Jacob.”

Startled, Jacob spun, surprised to see Joe in his wheelchair. Annie stood behind him in the open doorway, looking beautiful in a light blue dress, black apron and with a white prayer
kapp
on her golden-blond hair. She appeared concerned for her father. In direct contrast, Horseshoe Joe looked pale beneath his white-streaked brown beard. He had left his hat in the house, and his tousled graying hair made him look much older than his forty-some years. “Joe,
ya
shouldn't be here. You should be resting and recovering.”

Joe nodded. “I just wanted to check in on your first day here. Is there anything you need? Anything you want to know?”

The memory of Joe's teachings gave Jacob the confidence to smile. “I remember everything you taught me. I'll be fine.”

“I never doubted that,” Joe replied. “You make sure you stop a time or two and come to the house for something to eat.”

“If I get hungry, I will,” Jacob said. He smiled at Annie. She glanced quickly away and he turned his attention back to Horseshoe Joe. “Do you have a list of any back orders?” he asked.

“Ja,”
Joe said. “Annie, push me closer.” He gestured toward the other side of the shop.

“Dat...”

“I'm not going to work, daughter. I'm hardly in a position to do anything but sit—and even that's getting painful.” Annie pushed her father's wheelchair farther into the room. “This is fine, Annie.” Joe gestured toward a wall shelf. “Jacob? See that notebook? Inside, you'll find a list of special orders. Not horseshoes but cabinet hinges, tools for specific use and other requests.”

Jacob pulled the book from its nesting place on the shelf. He flipped through pages, seeing Joe's notes. “This will be helpful.”

Joe looked tired. “There will be the usual orders for horseshoes. Abram Peachy has been patiently waiting for me to shoe one of his mares. If you can take care of that soon, I'd appreciate it.” Jacob saw a hint of tears in the older man's eyes. “
Danki
, Jacob.”

“I'm grateful you had
the patience to teach me about blacksmithing when I was younger,” Jacob replied.

“I enjoyed having you in the shop, interested in my work.” Joe smiled.

Jacob grinned. His good humor dimmed as he met Annie's gaze briefly before returning his attention to her father. “Go home and rest. Things will be fine here.”

Joe's smile was weak. “I think I'll do that.”

“It was
gut
of you to visit me on my first day,” Jacob said. He gave Annie a nod, and she acknowledged it politely. He knew that she would take good care of her father.

As she pushed Joe from the shop, Jacob sighed.
Annie.
He had a lot to do and he didn't need his thoughts muddled with Annie Zook and whether or not she approved of him. A blacksmith's job took concentration, skill and patience, and he planned to ensure that Zook's Blacksmithy continued to run smoothly in Horseshoe Joe's absence.

* * *

Annie pushed her father up the wheelchair ramp and into the house. “You'll be resting now,
Dat
?”

Her father sighed. “
Ja.
I'm feeling weak.”

“'Tis to be expected. You've done too much today.” She eyed him with concern. “Is your shin hurting?”

He nodded. “I'll just sit in my chair and put up my leg.”

“Do
ya
need a pain pill?”

“
Nay.
I'll be fine. Would you get me a cup of tea?”

Annie smiled. “I'll bring you some of your favorite cookies, too.” She helped him move to his favorite chair. With Annie's help, he set both of his legs onto the stool Noah Lapp had made for him and closed his eyes.

Annie picked up a quilt, spread it carefully over his legs and tucked it in near his waist. “I'll be right back,
Dat
.”

He acknowledged her with a small sound that told her he might be ready to sleep. Still, she left the room and entered the kitchen to put on a pot of tea. As she placed the kettle on the stove, she thought of Jacob. It was strange to see him in the shop again. Watching him take stock of Zook's Blacksmithy, she became overly conscious that he was no longer a boy but an attractive man.

I'm older and wiser; I won't make the same mistake twice.
She wouldn't fall for another Lapp brother.

When the water was hot, she poured it into a teapot and added two bags. She'd enjoy a cup, too. Her mother and sister were not home; they were next door at her
grosseldre's
house.

When the tea had steeped, she poured out two cups. After filling a plate with treats, she went back to the gathering room and her father. Her
dat
opened his eyes when she entered the room.

“Gut,”
he said. “Those cookies look delicious.” He smiled when Annie placed his tea just the way he liked it on the table beside him.

“I put more than one kind on the plate,” she said as she offered him a napkin and extended the dish.

“They're all my favorite,” he said with a weak grin. There was a tired look about his eyes, but there was enjoyment, too. Annie was happy to see it. “Annie.” Her father captured her hand as she turned to leave. “Take the boy something to eat later.”

Annie frowned. “Boy?”

“Jacob,”
Dat
said as he took a bite.

“Jacob's not a boy,
Dat
.” She held out the plate for him.

“Man, then,” her father corrected as he selected another cookie.

She opened her mouth to say more but promptly thought better of it. “I'll make him something to eat.”

“How about that leftover chicken potpie of yours?”

“
Mam
made it.” She rubbed her nape with her left hand. “I'll bring him a bowlful and something to drink.”

“
Nay
, Annie. Invite him to eat lunch with us,” her
dat
said. “He's doing me a favor by pitching in.”

“Are
ya
sure he'll do a
gut
enough job for you?” she asked. She was upset that Jacob hadn't waited for her to talk with her father about the idea.

“He'll do a fine job.”
Dat
took a sip of his tea. “I taught him well.”

“But he was only eleven or twelve then,” she said. “That was a long time ago.”

“He's a natural. He hasn't forgotten what to do.” Her father smiled. “Shouldn't your
mudder
be back by now?”

Annie shook her head. “She and Barbara are cleaning for
Grossmudder
.”

“And you had
vadder
duty,”
Dat
said sadly.

She settled her hand on his shoulder. “
Dat
, 'tis my pleasure to be here for you.”

Her father regarded her with affection. “I know.”

Annie saw her
dat's
eyes brighten as he caught sight of her dog, Millie, curled up in her bed. He'd grown attached to the dog since his accident.

“Millie,” she called softly. The dog picked up her head. “Go sit by
Dat
.” As if she understood, little Millie rose from her bed and went to lie next to the base of Joe's chair. “Watch him for me, girl.”

“Bring Jacob some water when you ask him to lunch. Working in the shop makes a man thirsty,” Joe said as he closed his eyes.

Annie stiffened.
“Ja, Dat,”
she said dutifully. In the kitchen, she filled a large plastic jug with water. She then grabbed a cup and a plate of cookies before she reluctantly headed out to the barn.

* * *

Jacob pulled out the tools he needed to make the horseshoes for Abram Peachy's mare and stoked up the fire in the forge. He could use the propane torch but not today. He wanted to do it the way he'd first been taught. The leather apron Joe had bought for him still hung in the shop, as if it were only a day rather than years since he'd visited last. Jacob fingered the material. It was too small for him, and so he put on Joe's. Next, he pulled on gloves to protect his hands.

The shop was warm, the heat from the fire a bit overwhelming as he set metal into flame until it glowed an orange red. Next, he hammered it into the shape of a horseshoe on the steel anvil. The sound of his cross-peen hammer against the glowing metal filled the room, rewarding him with a sense of familiar satisfaction. He hammered, checked the metal, fired it up again and hammered some more, then he suddenly became aware of someone's presence. He didn't have to look toward the doorway to know who had entered the shop. “Annie,” he said without looking up. “Do you need something?”

“Nay,”
she called back, to be heard over the ring of iron against steel as he continued his work. “I've brought you a drink.”

Jacob stopped pounding, set down his tools and glanced her way. “Water,” he said with a grateful smile.

She carried the refreshments to the worktable on the opposite side of the room. “
Dat
said you'd be thirsty.”

“Ja,”
he said, watching her closely. “I could use a drink.” She poured him a glass of water and offered it to him. He nodded his thanks and took a sip. “Just what I needed.”

“I brought cookies, too.” She placed the plate on the workbench within his reach. “For whenever you're hungry,” she added. “
Dat
said you're to join us for lunch.”

“You don't have to feed me,” he said carefully.

“We've got plenty. So, you'll come?
Dat
will be pleased if you do.”

“And you?” he dared to ask. “Will
you
mind?”

She blushed. “I'm asking you, aren't I?” Her expression became unreadable. “We're grateful that you're handling
Dat's
work.”

“First see how I do before you're too grateful.”

“
Dat
has confidence in your abilities, so I do, too.” She touched a hand to her prayer
kapp
. “You will come?”

He noted the vibrant gold in her blond hair. “
Ja
, I'll be there. I wouldn't want to disappoint Joe.” He locked gazes with her.

She looked away. “I'd better finish my chores—”

He glanced down at the cooling metal. He would have to fire it up again before he could continue the job. “And I better get back to work.”

She hesitated. “If there is anything you need before then, come to the
haus
and let us know.”

He nodded and turned his attention back to the forge, conscious of the exact moment when Annie left the shop.

* * *

Annie was stirring the pan of chicken potpie when she heard her brother's voice coming from the front of the house.

“Jacob!” Peter cried. “Come eat!”

Although she listened carefully, Annie couldn't hear his reply, but she recognized Jacob's deep male voice.

“Bread done?”
Mam
entered the room from the other side.

“Ja,”
Annie said. “Fresh from the oven and ready to be sliced. I took the butter out of the refrigerator.”

“I'll open a jar of chow-chow,” her mother said, referring to garden vegetables canned in a sweet-and-sour mix.

“I made a pitcher of iced tea this morning,” Annie told her. “And lemonade.” She filled a pitcher for those who preferred water.

Peter entered, followed closely by her father in his wheelchair. “
Dat
, I would have brought you something to eat.” Her voice trailed off when she saw who stood behind the chair.

“Hallo,”
Jacob said as he pushed Joe's chair farther into the room. “It smells wonderful in here.”

Mam
turned from the kitchen counter with the dish of chow-chow. “I'm glad you could join us, Jacob.”

“I'm happy you asked.” He flashed Annie a look that made the heat rise in her face.

Annie scrambled to move furniture to accommodate her father's wheelchair at the table. Then she turned to the stove, where she ladled their meal into a large ceramic bowl. “I hope you like chicken potpie.”

“
Ja
, 'tis one of my favorites.” Jacob smiled as he took the seat where instructed, next to her father. “Did
ya
make it?”

Annie shook her head. “
Nay
,
Mam
did.”

“You helped with the pie squares,” her
mam
said.

Annie had, in fact, rolled out the dough thinly, and she'd cut it into one-inch squares. Unlike the pie-crusted potpies made by the English, the Amish recipe for chicken potpie did not have a two-part flaky crust surrounding the cooked chicken and vegetables, nor was it baked in the oven. The women in their Amish community cooked the chicken in a stockpot until the meat was tender and the water became broth. Then they added vegetables and seasoning. Once the time was right, they stirred in pie squares, similar to the dough the English used in their chicken-and-dumpling recipes. Annie had learned the recipe from her mother at a young age, and over the years, she'd become skilled at making the thick, tasty dish.