Sam had the sod all turned by noon. He took Claude to the barn to rest and enjoy his ration of oats. Sam never considered himself a farmer, only grew oats out of necessity to feed his horses, but working the garden and thinking of how homey if felt to be doing so had made the morning enjoyable.

He washed at the pump and crossed to the house. The aroma of food had called to him for the past hour. Something savory. He stepped inside and sniffed in appreciation. “Smells mighty good.”

“I hope it tastes equally as good.” Elin stood at the table before a large pot. A pan of cornbread and jug of syrup sat beside the pot.

“Sit,” Gus ordered. “We’re all hungry.”

Sam jerked forward. He hadn’t meant to stand and stare, but the smiling greeting, the house full of delicious aromas, a child and a woman to greet him…it grabbed at his heart and squeezed. He had once dreamed of claiming such as his own.

He shook his head, hoping to clear his thoughts. After Luanne, he had allowed himself to forget the pain of sudden loss. Only to be reminded again. It wasn’t a mistake he meant to repeat, and yet the longing inside clawed at his thoughts until he could hardly squelch it.

He sank to a chair. Thankfully it was Gus’s turn to ask the blessing as Sam couldn’t have gotten a word out his tight throat.

Then, as Elin placed a bowl before him, the steamy, rich scent of the soup filled his nostrils and erased every other thought. “Mmm,” he said, after his first taste. “This is delicious. You are a very good cook.”

“Thank you. I could do more if I had more supplies.” She held up a hand. “Forgive me. I have no right to say that. There’s enough to last some time.”

Gus slapped the table. “If having more in the cupboard will make it possible for you to make more meals like this, then we will be going to town.”

Sam drowned a hunk of cornbread in syrup and savored the taste.

“Isn’t that right, Sam?” Gus said.

“Town? Sure.” He’d ride to Bismarck and back if it meant he could continue to enjoy such delicious meals. “When do you want to go?”

Elin fluttered her hands. “Well, I can’t say. I have no desire to interfere with your work. Perhaps I could go on my own.”

“Sam?” Gus sounded annoyed.

Sam was lost in the enjoyment of food. When he lived with Morty, they had once had a Mexican cook who made great meals, but that was a long time ago. Since then he and Harry and Gus had been baching it or slipping over to the cookhouse to eat food prepared by Percy, but his offerings didn’t compare to what Elin served.

“Sam.” Gus’s voice had grown hard.

“What?”

“Elin wants to know when you can take her to town and she ain’t goin’ on her own.”

“Well, of course she isn’t. That would be plumb stupid.” Ignoring Gus’s scowl, he turned to Elin. “Do you want to go tomorrow?”

“That will be lovely. It will be Saturday.” She looked surprised. “Time is flying by.”

Joey pushed his bowl forward. “More, please?”

Elin put more soup in the boy’s bowl and offered more to Sam, who didn’t refuse and neither did Gus. There was cake for dessert.

A man could get to enjoy this real fast.

Sam drained his coffee cup, thanked Elin for the meal, and hurried outside. He had work to do and no room for destructive dreams.

He hitched Claude to the disc harrow and worked the garden to break up the sods. He was almost done when Elin came to the spot and watched him, her expression eager. He finished and led the horse to her side. “It will be soddy this year but it will get better every year.” Had he just said something that would give her the impression she would be here year after year? And had he thought that very thing?

“I can hardly wait.” She grinned widely. “Do you have a hoe, some stakes, and rope so I can mark off the rows?”

“Come with me to the barn and we’ll see what we can find.”

“I come too?” Joey asked.

“You sure can. You want a ride?”

Joey nodded and Sam scooped him to his shoulders for the walk toward the barn. Joey giggled.

“You’re good with him.” Elin gave Sam a look full of approval that warmed him clear through.

He smiled, enjoying her praise, and ignored the warnings and protests wrangling in his head.

He put the boy down beside Elin. “Wait while I take care of Claude.” He put away the disc harrow, took the harnessing from the horse and put it away, then took Claude to the water trough. While the animal drank, he got Joey to help him put oats in the feed trough.

Of course, they had to make a detour to the manger where the cats were, Elin with them. They admired the kittens and fondled them all. Elin leaned forward to stroke the mama cat, her shoulder brushing Sam’s chest, sending warmth through him. He would have lingered longer, enjoying the moment, but Elin looked about.

“Did you say there was a hoe?”

“Come along.” He led her to the tack room and they found the hoe, rope, and stakes she wanted. The three of them trooped back to the garden, Sam carrying the hoe and a hammer, Elin the stakes, and Joey, the rope. Sam could have easily carried it all by himself but there was something about sharing the chore that made him feel good.

“Thank you,” Elin said, when they reached the garden spot.

“Give me one of the stakes.”

She did so and he took the end of the rope and trotted to the far end of the garden.

“Where do you want the first row?”

She waved him two feet to his left. “Right there.”

He drove the stake in, affixed the rope, and trotted back to her side to secure the rope on the second stake. “What are you planting first?”

“Lettuce. Swiss chard, beets, carrots…” She continued on until he stopped her.

He picked up the hoe. “How deep do you want the first row?”

She put her hand on the hoe. “Sam, I can do this. You’ve already done so much, and I know you have other things to be concerned with.”

He had cattle to deal with, rustling to stop, and a need to check all the watering holes and assess the higher pastures to see if they were ready for grazing, but he continued to hold the implement. “I remember doing this with my ma and pa. All of us working together. I’d forgotten that.” He smiled at the memory. “Good times.”

She dropped her hand. “You make it difficult to refuse your help.”

He chuckled. “Are you saying you can’t say no to me?”

She chuckled. “I’m not one to argue.”

He laughed. “That’s not how I saw it when you arrived. I thought you were the most argumentative woman I’d ever encountered.”

She studied him. “But now you’ve changed your mind, yes?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. I’m not saying.” Truth was, it surprised him to realize how much his views had shifted. Alarmed him too.

She swatted playfully at his arm. “You are a tease.”

He waggled his eyebrows. “Are we going to plant a garden or stand here arguing?”

She laughed. “Plant. I need a shallow row.”

He dragged the hoe along to make the trench. She followed, bent over as she sprinkled in the seed.

“I help?” Joey asked.

“You sure can.” Both Elin and Sam answered at the same time. They looked at each other and laughed.

They finished the lettuce. Sam pulled a layer of dirt over the seed. “Joey, you tramp it down.”

The boy carefully walked along the row, planting his heel to his toe. His tongue peeked out the corner of his mouth.

Sam and Elin watched Joey and then looked at each other and grinned.

“He’s a good boy,” Elin said.

Joey looked up at her comment, beaming from her praise.

“Nothing like Harry,” Sam whispered.

They continued to plant, row after row of vegetables. Sometimes Elin sang as she worked, her voice sweet, but the words unfamiliar as she sang in Norwegian.

Sometimes, she talked either directly to Joey or to Sam or sometimes to no one in particular. “In Norway we grow big gardens to feed big families. We have much fun at harvest, especially with the cowpeas.”

Sam wanted to ask what cowpeas were but she continued talking.

“One thing my family always did was give a new bride enough seeds to start a garden. I brought some with me but—” She sighed and didn’t finish.

Was she not going to use them because she wasn’t a bride?

Sam whacked at a clump of dirt. Harry, living his life with no regard to the people he left behind.

“Twice now, I have hoped to use my seeds.” She bent over the row of beans.

Sam stared at her. “Twice?”

“Ja, twice.” She slowly straightened, looking into the distance. “Seems no one wants me.” She sighed again. “But I am here now. And I am staying.” She bent over and resumed planting.

Twice? Harry, made sense. He didn’t have concern for anyone else. But surely there weren’t two Harrys in the world? And even Harry might settle down if he met Elin and saw how beautiful and sweet and good she was. For the first time since Harry had left, Sam hoped he’d stay away.

Elin reached the end of the row and Sam realized he hadn’t moved for several minutes. He hurriedly covered the seeds, letting Joey stamp the dirt down.

They worked together all afternoon. Sam didn’t mind the work nor the sun. Joey got tired and went to play with his farm. Gus pulled a chair to the side of the house and watched Sam and Elin.

A part of Sam wished Gus would go away and leave him and Elin alone. A saner portion silently thanked the older man for sticking around.

Elin reached the end of another row and arched her back.

“Need a break?” Sam asked.

“I want to finish. I know it’s late in the season, but I think we’ll still get a garden. Anker said if I got it in right off I’d be okay. Depends, he said, on rain and frosts. But I need to cut up potatoes to plant. Would you like coffee and cookies while I do that?”

“Sounds great.” He was ready for a break, but he could hardly stop when she was prepared to continue.

She was both pretty and tough.

They trooped back to the house. Gus and Joey followed. They all washed up and Elin made coffee and served it with cookies. She poured Joey some milk.

“Thank you,” Sam said. Gus echoed his gratitude.

Joey bit into a cookie and looked as happy as a bee in a patch of wild clover. “You a good cook,” the boy said.

Elin’s laugh rang with joy. “Thank you, young man. Someone taught you good manners.”

“G’ma. She make me say please and tank you all the time.”

Elin wrapped an arm about the boy. “She would be proud of you.”

Joey nodded. “I know.”

Elin met Sam’s eyes over the boy’s head and they shared a smile. And something more, though he couldn’t say what it was. Only that it felt good.

While the others lingered over coffee, or in Joey’s case, milk, and consumed a large amount of cookies, Elin cut potatoes for seed. She glanced at the clock over the big armchair.

“I must start something for supper.” She looked about the kitchen as if seeking inspiration.

“Fried eggs is good enough,” Sam said. “Better than we have many times.”

“No fish?” Her expression was inscrutable, her voice giving away nothing, but he thought she was teasing and decided he quite liked a woman who would tease. Luanne never had, but then she had been sick much of the time Sam knew her.

“No fish,” he managed with equal lack of expression. Though he might consider traveling to one of the lakes and trying to catch some. It would be a nice trip. He dismissed the idea. It would require being away at least three days. He didn’t have the time. Nor could he, with a clear conscience, take Elin on such a trip. He could just imagine what the Scanlons would have to say about that. No doubt they would put a whole lot of weight on the fact a man left behind his responsibilities to dilly dally away a number of days with an unmarried woman.

He jerked up in his chair. He hadn’t given the cows more than a passing thought all day. What kind of rancher was he?

Gus studied him. “Something ailing you?”

“Nope.” He scratched a non-existent bite on his shoulder. “Might have a mosquito bite.”

Gus grunted, letting Sam know he wasn’t fooled.

“You have bacon.” Elin nodded. “I will make bacon, eggs, and fried potatoes. Anker said that is a good meal though maybe it should be breakfast.”

“It’s good for supper too,” Sam assured her.

“Good. Then I will plant the potatoes first.” She picked up the bucket of cut potatoes and headed for the door.

Sam pushed his chair back and strode after her.

She stopped. “You don’t have to help. Really.”

He dropped a hand to her shoulder. “That’s true, so maybe I’m helping because I want to.” He sensed, more than felt, her stiffening. But he left his hand on her shoulder until she nodded.

“Very well. Come and join the fun.”

Joey trotted after them and Gus wandered off toward the river.

After an hour, Sam looked at her bucket. “Are we done yet?”

She laughed. “Almost.” They finished and stood side by side looking at the neatly marked rows.

“Thank you for all your help. If I had to do it by myself I wouldn’t finish today.”

“You’re welcome.” He felt he had to say more. “Thank you for being willing to work so hard.”

She laughed. “In my family we all work hard, but this time it is different.”

“What do you mean?”

She looked up at him. “This is for me and those I care about. Not that I don’t care about my family.” She shrugged. “But this is different.”

She cared? For him? He wasn’t sure what she meant. Was it a slip of the tongue?

She grabbed the hoe. “I’ll put this away.” She hurried toward the barn.

He wound up the rope, gathered up the stakes, and followed her. He lengthened his stride in order to catch up with her. When he reached her side, he could think of nothing to say, no way to ask the questions hovering in his mind, and so they walked in silence.

They put away the equipment.

Elin went to check on the kittens. She laughed softly.

He joined her to see what had amused her. The kittens rolled about, play fighting with each other.

“So sweet,” she murmured.

“Yes.” Only his attention was on Elin, not the kittens.

* * *

Elin felt Sam’s gaze on her. She kept hers on the kittens. She’d said more than she should. More than she had the right. Not that she didn’t care about these people. But there were certain boundaries she could not cross in regards to caring. She thought she had those boundaries firmly in place, but Sam had her all confused. First, he helped her plant the garden, which she had enjoyed as much as a picnic in the park. Then he had put his big, warm hand on her shoulder and left it there until she moved away. She wanted to be valued, but she hadn’t anticipated that she would want that to take the shape of affection. And the idea set her nerves on edge. Was she simply setting herself up for more disappointment?

Sam shifted so he stood at her side. “You said twice a man had abandoned you. Who was the other?”

She had not used that word but it perfectly described the way it felt. All the bitter regrets of that relationship rushed to the forefront. “Axel. He was Leif’s friend, but he started to show interest in me. He courted me. Took me to visit his family. Skating. Even a picnic in the park. I assumed he would ask for my hand in marriage. It seemed the reasonable thing for him to do. Instead, he announced to everyone he was going to marry a pretty young girl from a nearby farm. I asked him why he had been spending so much time with me. He said he enjoyed my company, but found me too opinionated to be a good wife. Me?” She snorted. “I’d been going out of my way to be sweet and accommodating.”

Sam put his arm across her shoulders. “You should not have to try and be what you think someone wants.”

She let the warmth of his touch seep through her, easing away the pain of Axel’s rejection. “I’m tired of being too much trouble.”

“You are not trouble to us. You are a blessing.” He pulled her closer and she couldn’t stop herself from leaning against his chest—strong, solid—a man who kept his word.

She straightened. “Thank you for saying that.” She needed to remember that he kept his word and that meant he did not want anything more from her than taking care of his house and Joey. “I must start supper.” She headed for the door, realized he wasn’t following, and looked back.

“I’ll be in later. Tell Gus I’ll do the barn chores.”

“I will tell him.” She had again gone too far and driven him away. Would she ever learn the right pace in life?

She went directly to the stove and began the meal. At least she couldn’t go wrong by making good food. She pushed aside all else and hummed as she worked.

By the time she had the meal ready, Sam returned and they sat at the table and enjoyed the food. Joey drooped as the meal ended and Elin prepared him for bed. He fell asleep before she even hummed a lullaby.

She sat back on her heels watching him sleep. When she left for America, she had dreamed of babies of her own and planned a bedtime routine as they grew past babyhood. She had promised that no matter how many children she had, each one would know he or she was a special blessing. Joey deserved the same treatment and, sitting at his side, she decided she would change things so he was awake enough at bedtime to hear a Bible story and a song. Perhaps an afternoon nap would see him through to the late supper. Or an earlier supper. What would Sam think of that idea?

Elin returned to the kitchen. Sam still sat at the table, seemingly lost in thought. Gus slept in the armchair. Seemed he and Joey were much the same. She gathered up the dishes and took them to the cupboard to wash them.

Sam joined her, drying the dishes.

Now was a good time to ask about eating supper earlier, though it would cut into afternoon work for both of them. She mentioned it to Sam. “I don’t get to spend time with Joey at bedtime when he is so tired.”

“That’s important to you?”

“I think he deserves a little special time.”

Sam’s hands grew idle and he stared unblinkingly at the wall before him.

“Never mind. It’s not important.”

Sam shook himself. “I remember my mama reading to me at bedtime and saying my prayers with me. She would kiss me and tell me how much she loved me.” He pressed a dripping hand to his cheek as if recalling her kisses. “I had completely forgotten that.” He shuddered again.

Although she knew touching Sam would seriously threaten her boundaries, Elin pressed a hand to his shoulder. “Sam, you must miss her so much.”

The tension slipped from him and he smiled at her. “I normally don’t think of it. But I can see how important it is for Joey to think he’s cared for especially considering all the losses he’s experienced. Eating a little earlier won’t be a problem for me. And if I can’t be here for the meal, go ahead without me.”

“Oh, but I don’t want to do that.” She pushed back the unexpected regret at the idea of not sharing mealtime with him and forced herself to hold his gaze despite the warmth in her cheeks.

A slow, warm smile curved his lips. “I shall do my best to be here.”

“Okay.” She kept her attention on a plate she dried.

He tipped his head until it touched hers. “I want to be here and not just for the good food.”

Slowly, half fearfully, half eagerly, she brought her gaze to his.

“I like the good company too.” He smiled so sweetly that her eyes stung. He made it sound like he enjoyed her company.

It was what she wanted…to be valued.

They finished doing dishes together. Elin knew a working cowboy and ranch owner didn’t normally wash dishes and she tried not to think it meant anything beyond Sam helping her settle in.

He emptied the basin on the bush.

“What is the name of that bush?”

“It’s a caragana.”

“It will have blossoms, ja?”

“Little yellow flowers like bean blossoms.”

She smiled. “Good. I’ve always wanted something blooming outside the door.”

He dried the basin and hung it up then turned to study her. “It’s not a beautiful flower. Why not plant some flower seeds? Did you bring some? If not, we’ll ask in town tomorrow if anyone has some to spare.”

Her thoughts stalled. The man had offered to help her find flower seeds. As if pleasing her mattered to him. She pushed away the thought. Was she so desperate for any sign of importance? Wasn’t praise over the food enough? “I have flower seeds,” she said, hoping he didn’t notice how hoarse she sounded. She’d plant some the first chance she got.

“Good.”

Gus got up and went to his room.

Elin looked at the door to her bedroom. Should she say good night? But her mind churned with so many confusing thoughts. She’d never be able to go to sleep.

She’d seen a bit of paper and a pencil in a jar. She’d like to make a list of supplies but had no right to make such decisions regarding purchases and wasn’t sure how to broach the subject with Sam. It would be best to leave it be and see what the men had in mind when they got to town.

“What time can you be ready to go tomorrow?” Sam asked.

“How early do you want to leave? I can get up whenever it suits you. If Joey is still sleeping, I can carry him to the wagon.”

Sam chuckled. “That’s not necessary. We’ll have breakfast first, then leave if that suits you.”

“That is fine.”

“Maybe I can find a couple more men to work for me.” His gaze went to the window and she knew he must be concerned about his cattle.

“I’ve kept you from checking on your herd. I’m sorry.”

He gave a soft chuckle and brought his amused gaze to her. “I don’t recall you hog-tying me and forcing me to stay.”

“I—well, not like that.”

“Not to worry. If there was a problem, someone would have come to tell me.” His expression hardened. “I’m hoping the rustlers have moved on to other things.”

“I pray it will be so. But not to steal someone else’s cows.”

He nodded. “What do you need to get tomorrow?”

She looked about for some clue as how to answer. “I think that is up to you.”

“Me? The supplies I would buy are already in the cupboard. You need to add to them. I recall you mentioned almonds. What else do you need?”

“Fish?” She kept her face expressionless.

He laughed. “There might be salt cod at the store.” He grinned at her. “Make a list and get whatever you need.”

She nodded, still uncertain about the arrangement.

“Is there something wrong?”

She studied her fingernails. “How do I know how much money I should spend?”

“Spend whatever you want. I can afford to feed my household.”

She detected a hard note in his voice and looked up at him. “I did not mean to suggest otherwise.”

They regarded each other in stiff silence.

He sighed. “I know you didn’t. It’s just—” He shrugged and didn’t finish.

She didn’t press him, knowing how it stung to be looked at as not enough. Instead, she fetched the paper and pencil and began a list. At the very top, she wrote Fish.

From across the table, he read the word and chuckled. “Poor Elin. Leaving life near the ocean to a flat, land-locked land.”

She met his gaze. “I do not regret it. I will gladly live without fish to have what I have here.” Then wondering if she’d said too much, she hastened to add, “The rolling prairie is not unlike the ocean when it is calm.”

“I have never seen the ocean so I can’t say if I agree or not.”

“Then wouldn’t it be easy to simply agree?”

He laughed. “I think I should be careful what I agree to.” His smile flattened and he looked to the darkened window.

She kept her attention on the non-existent list. Did he refer to agreeing to let her stay? Had she done something to make him regret it? Or was there another reason for his regret?