the right move for Joy.”
She came and cupped his face between her hands. “Then I will treasure every minute and pray you have a change of heart.”
“That’s not likely.”
“ Ach, but it is not impossible. Gott may yet answer my prayers.”
Chapter Five
E arly the following morning, Caleb dressed quickly in his room, having slept better than he had in years. There was something comforting about huddling under a mound of quilts in a chilly room. However, getting dressed in the cold was a good reminder of why he liked living in the South. He might need to invest in a couple pairs of long johns. Joy would need some for sure.
He checked on her and found her bed empty. He rushed downstairs in a panic. Thankfully, she was seated at the kitchen table, enjoying scrambled eggs, bacon, biscuits and fried potatoes. The aroma of his mother’s cooking made his mouth water and his stomach rumble.
Mamm came in from the other room. “Ah, goot, you are up. I must go into town and get some fabric for Joy’s new dresses. I’d best hurry if I’m to get there and back in time to fix your daed his lunch. There is a plate in the offa for you.”
“That means oven,” Joy said with a grin. She had a streak of his mother’s homemade apple butter smeared on her cheek.
He winked at her. “Mien meiya eems es in da offa.”
Her eyes widened. “You speak Pennsylvania Dutch?”
“Pretty goot, ja? ”
“What did you say?” she demanded.
“I said, ‘My morning meal is in the oven.’”
“That is...way cool.”
He had finally impressed his eight-year-old daughter. The morning was looking up.
His mother moved to stand behind Joy. She stroked her hair with a look of tenderness in her eyes. “Finish your breakfast. Your daed can teach you many words while he shows you around the farm today.”
“Okay.” Joy started forking eggs in her mouth. It was the first time he’d seen his child relaxed in weeks. His mother and her comfort food had that effect on people. It was exactly what he wanted for Joy.
Caleb used a hot pad to pull his heaping plate from the oven. After he finished his breakfast, he made sure Joy was well bundled up in a new coat, snow boots and mittens they had purchased on their way north. Together, they set off along the same path he had used countless times when he walked to school. It felt familiar and strange. Joy ran in front of him, kicking up clouds of powdery fresh snow that had fallen in the night.
As they got deeper into the woods, she drew close to him and took his hand. “I don’t think I like this place.”
“You don’t like the woods?” He tried to see their surroundings through the eyes of a child who had grown up in a run-down trailer park on the outskirts of Houston. The two places were worlds apart. Trees pressed in around them. The bare branches creaked and clacked in the cold breeze.
“I think something might get us,” she whispered, her hesitant voice wobbled with fear.
“I walked through these woods every day from the time I was your age until I was grown. I never saw anything that could get me. Shall we check and see who else has walked along this path?”
“How can we do that?”
“Everyone who walked this way or crossed this path has left their signature in the snow. Turn around and look where we’ve walked. What do you see?”
She stopped and looked back. “I see our footprints.”
“That’s right. Now look in front of us. What do you see?”
She scanned the area. “I see funny marks in the snow.”
“Let’s take a closer look.” He crouched beside the dots that crossed the path in front of them.
She imitated his position and propped her chin on her hand. He almost laughed at her serious expression but quickly controlled himself. It was important that she learn to be at home in the outdoors. “If you look closely, you’ll see two tiny paw marks in the snow and two drag marks behind it.”
She looked up at him. “Are they puppy
She came and cupped his face between her hands. “Then I will treasure every minute and pray you have a change of heart.”
“That’s not likely.”
“ Ach, but it is not impossible. Gott may yet answer my prayers.”
Chapter Five
E arly the following morning, Caleb dressed quickly in his room, having slept better than he had in years. There was something comforting about huddling under a mound of quilts in a chilly room. However, getting dressed in the cold was a good reminder of why he liked living in the South. He might need to invest in a couple pairs of long johns. Joy would need some for sure.
He checked on her and found her bed empty. He rushed downstairs in a panic. Thankfully, she was seated at the kitchen table, enjoying scrambled eggs, bacon, biscuits and fried potatoes. The aroma of his mother’s cooking made his mouth water and his stomach rumble.
Mamm came in from the other room. “Ah, goot, you are up. I must go into town and get some fabric for Joy’s new dresses. I’d best hurry if I’m to get there and back in time to fix your daed his lunch. There is a plate in the offa for you.”
“That means oven,” Joy said with a grin. She had a streak of his mother’s homemade apple butter smeared on her cheek.
He winked at her. “Mien meiya eems es in da offa.”
Her eyes widened. “You speak Pennsylvania Dutch?”
“Pretty goot, ja? ”
“What did you say?” she demanded.
“I said, ‘My morning meal is in the oven.’”
“That is...way cool.”
He had finally impressed his eight-year-old daughter. The morning was looking up.
His mother moved to stand behind Joy. She stroked her hair with a look of tenderness in her eyes. “Finish your breakfast. Your daed can teach you many words while he shows you around the farm today.”
“Okay.” Joy started forking eggs in her mouth. It was the first time he’d seen his child relaxed in weeks. His mother and her comfort food had that effect on people. It was exactly what he wanted for Joy.
Caleb used a hot pad to pull his heaping plate from the oven. After he finished his breakfast, he made sure Joy was well bundled up in a new coat, snow boots and mittens they had purchased on their way north. Together, they set off along the same path he had used countless times when he walked to school. It felt familiar and strange. Joy ran in front of him, kicking up clouds of powdery fresh snow that had fallen in the night.
As they got deeper into the woods, she drew close to him and took his hand. “I don’t think I like this place.”
“You don’t like the woods?” He tried to see their surroundings through the eyes of a child who had grown up in a run-down trailer park on the outskirts of Houston. The two places were worlds apart. Trees pressed in around them. The bare branches creaked and clacked in the cold breeze.
“I think something might get us,” she whispered, her hesitant voice wobbled with fear.
“I walked through these woods every day from the time I was your age until I was grown. I never saw anything that could get me. Shall we check and see who else has walked along this path?”
“How can we do that?”
“Everyone who walked this way or crossed this path has left their signature in the snow. Turn around and look where we’ve walked. What do you see?”
She stopped and looked back. “I see our footprints.”
“That’s right. Now look in front of us. What do you see?”
She scanned the area. “I see funny marks in the snow.”
“Let’s take a closer look.” He crouched beside the dots that crossed the path in front of them.
She imitated his position and propped her chin on her hand. He almost laughed at her serious expression but quickly controlled himself. It was important that she learn to be at home in the outdoors. “If you look closely, you’ll see two tiny paw marks in the snow and two drag marks behind it.”
She looked up at him. “Are they puppy
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