In a Mother’s Arms by Jillian Hart, Victoria Bylin Page A

other.” Molly laughed when Sukie skidded to a halt behind the girls, and Ruth gave a low nicker of disapproval. What decorum! She patted Ruth’s flank reassuringly. “It’s very good to see you, too, Sukie.”
    The bovine lowed, lifting her head to sniff and gaze dotingly at the bakery box on the seat. Smart girl.
    “You smell cinnamon and apples, don’t you?” Aware of Sam staying back against the white garden fence, she handed the bakery box to Prudence. “I made this during my lunchtime just for you all.”
    Penelope leaned against the cart, careful of her bandaged hand. “Apple crisp. I can smell it.”
    “It smells good.” Prudence carefully took the box. “Thank you, Miss Molly.”
    “Do we have to wait for dessert time—”
    “—or can we open it now?”
    “It’s up to your pa.” She allowed her gaze to find him and to linger, and offered a small smile. He clung to the shadows against the house, looking stoic and reserved and handsome. Decidedly handsome. Without a hat, his thick black hair swirled over his forehead to fall at his collar. His pensive look made his angled face appear stronger and deeply masculine. Gone was the morning’s stubble, and his smooth jaw was set as if in stone. Her fingertips tingled with the urge to trail the cut of his jaw line.
    You are not going to fall for this man, remember? She steeled her spine, determined to be strong. Just because her emotions for him had changed and her regard for him deepened did not mean she had to be sweet on the man. She did not intend to set her cap for him. She could hold back her need to be a part of a family again, to love and the hope to be loved.
    “You girls take that into the kitchen first, so you don’t spill whatever it is.”
    “Pa, we’ll be careful.”
    “Real careful.”
    “Sure, but look at what happened this morning. Calamity strikes when you two are near.” He stepped into the fall of sunlight, coming closer. “Go to the kitchen and have Mrs. Finley help you.”
    “Yes, sir.” The two trotted off the way they came, and Sukie trailed them through the garden gate and disappeared from sight.
    “Is she going to follow the girls into the house?”
    “It’s been known to happen.” He held out his hand to help her down. “When Sukie was a calf, I would find her in the house at least once a day. She would find her way in through a door or a window.”
    “She does love your daughters.” Molly placed her fingers on his palm, the lightest of brushes. This time it felt significant, like a bolt of lightning in a blue sky. As she swung off the seat, the sensation jolted through her spirit and soul, and for one brief moment she was airborne, buoyed as if by love. Then her shoes touched the ground, Sam withdrew his hand and yet the feeling of lightness remained.
    “One morning I came in from a late night call, and there she was, sleeping in the kitchen next to the warm stove.” Sam did not look in the least affected as he walked slowly at her side. “Sukie was curled up looking as pleased as could be with herself, and the cinnamon rolls Kathleen had baked for the morning were gone and the pan on the counter licked clean.”
    It took all her discipline to focus on the words of his story. Her hands had gone damp. Her limbs tremulous. Her entire being quaked as if she would never be the same again. “And what was your reaction?”
    “I lit the stove, boiled a pot of tea and took the calf outside. She was back in the house by the time Kathleen started breakfast.”
    “She was letting herself into the house?”
    “A mystery that was never solved.” Sam appeared different. Warmer, less guarded. He stopped at the gate and held it open, but shook his head when she went towards it. A hint of dimples framed his grin. “It’s my theory the calf used the pass-through hatch for the coal. She grew bigger and couldn’t get in anymore. I thought letting the girls get a pet cow would teach them responsibility, but I was wrong.