Forevermore by Cathy Marie Hake

she lips this one until it slides free every so often.”
    “Spirit. That’s a good quality. Whether it be in a critter or a child, it makes for a few headaches; but in the long run, ’tis the spirited ones what got the spark and the smarts that make ’em a cut above the best.”
    “A cut above the rest.” As soon as he corrected her, Jakob wondered why he bothered. In a way, her mangled cliché held some truth. The best and brightest often required more of an investment, but they invariably paid dividends.
    “Rest. Ain’t gonna be much more of that round here. Not with harvest upon us. Maybe God’s givin’ Nicodemus a few days to store up all the oomph it’ll take for him to pull his weight. Long as I’m here, though, you’re welcome to Hattie’s help.”
    “He’ll be better.” He has to be. The timing couldn’t be worse. Besides, Hope won’t be here much longer at all—a week at most. Annie had said Hope figured she’d move on and help at least five more families this season. Jakob moved toward Nicodemus’s stall and looked at the huge bay gelding. Nicodemus allowed the hoof on his sore leg to still make full contact with the ground. That was a good sign. “Before I go to bed, I’ll take off his mud wrap. Might rub on some liniment.”
    “I could mix you up a liniment if ’n you don’t have one.”
    “I’ve got McLeans Volcanic.”
    “Hoo-ooo-ie! If that don’t cure it, nothin’ will.”
    Her emphatic reaction made him finally look at her.
    Hope wrinkled her freckled nose. “That stuff stinks so bad, the hurt runs off begging for mercy.”
    Even in his foul mood, her words forced Jakob to stop frowning. “It does smell bad.”
    “Bad?”
    A recollection of the pungent odor forced him to admit, “Terrible. It smells terrible.”
    Hope crossed her arms and tapped her foot. “It rivals a skunk.”
    She had a point, but more than what she said, it was her tone of voice that transmitted her opinion. Jakob’s lips twitched.
    Hope’s eyes twinkled. “In an outhouse.”
    The crazy woman had a way with words. When she didn’t intend to be amusing, she was, but now when she was trying, her humor sparkled. Almost against his will, Jakob felt an unaccustomed grin stretch his sunburned face.
    Her brows went up, and she leaned the slightest bit toward him and tacked on, “In a wind—a stiff wind.”
    A chuckle bubbled out of him.
    Her laughter joined his. “I’m gonna be a stinker myself. If ’n you decide to use the liniment, I’m gonna run t’other way and let Phineas help you out. ’Bout the onliest help I’ll be is to offer you each a clothespin for your nose.” She gave her head a sorrowful shake. “Not that a clothespin would do much good. The fumes from that bottle of McLeans is still liable to make your eyes tear up and your nose run.”
    “It’s strong.”
    Her hazel eyes looked almost golden in the lantern light. “I’m thinkin’ on the way a simple bottle holds the powerful smell and fire of that liniment. Reminds me that it ain’t the vessel that counts, but what fills it.”
    “The same can be said of man.”
    “You shore said a mouthful there.” Rocking from heels to toes, Hope grinned at him. The hem of her skirt swayed back and forth, fanning bits of straw to flutter around her. “The abundance of the Lord God Almighty a-fillin’ us spills over. ’Tis a blessing and a joy. But that bottle’s somethin’ else entirely. Knowin’ what it holds makes me glad you’re the sorta man who’s mindful enough to check the lid to be sure it’s on right snug.”
    “I’ll be sure it’s secure.” Her confidence in him—even though it regarded something that paltry—still counted as a compliment.
    Hope caressed Hattie’s muzzle. “Jo ain’t the kind to be jealous, is she?”
    “Jealous of what?”
    “Hattie’s straw hat, of course.” Hope continued to baby her animal.
    “Her hat.” The woman’s mind skipped from one subject to the next, just as crazily as