Page 55 of My Heart Will Find You

“Yes. Alice. My little sister who loves to look at men in wet shirts.”

“Wait till you see Phillip in a wet shirt. He is a sight to behold. He—” Max stopped and looked at her without a hint of humor.

“Sorry,” Etta said, but when he turned away, she grinned. She’d never had a boyfriend who was jealous. Modern men were into “freedom,” which seemed to mean that they were free to do whatever they wanted. With whomever.

Max lifted her into the buggy seat.

“Someday I’ll have to figure out how to get into this by myself.”

“Before or after you learn how to sit in a saddle?” He got in beside her.

“I think I did very well today.”

“Sore?” He raised his eyebrows.

“More like excruciating pain.”

Smiling, he flipped the reins and the horse pulled the buggy forward.

“You know where his shop is?” she asked.

“With the size of him, I can see him through the buildings. What am I supposed to give him to do?”

“Twisty sticks. How about a staircase with those things holding up the banister?”

“He’ll have to come back here to work on them,” Max said.

“That’s not enough time for them to be together. You’ll have to build a forge at your home so he can spend days there.”

“Ourhome,” he said, and they smiled at each other.

Etta was glad the buggy wasn’t a little two seater like Cornelia’s hot rod, but had a long back seat so they could take the blacksmith and his daughter with them.

In spite of Max’s agreement, when they got to the forge, he wasn’t welcoming. He gave Etta a look of annoyance that the man had his daughter with him. Max stayed in the driver’s seat, leaving it up to them to get in by themselves.

Etta had other plans. She slid down to the ground, then motioned for the blacksmith to get into the front next to Max.

“I’ll sit in the back,” he said.

It was so good to hear Phillip’s voice! Etta told him she wanted to sit by Nellie so she’d take the back. Neither man looked pleased at that, but in the next second, he lifted her off the ground and set her into the buggy. When Max glowered, Etta smiled at him.

The ride back to the house wasn’t long, but the silence of everyone made it uncomfortable. Etta stared at the back of the two men. Max was taller, but the blacksmith was wider. They barely spoke.

She tried to make conversation. She learned that the blacksmith’s name was Patrick “Pat” Adams and his wife died in childbirth. Nellie had never had a mother.That’s because she’s hiding in a glass room, Etta thought.

When the house came into view, Etta breathed a sigh of relief. She hoped that adding Alice to the group would lighten the mood.

But suddenly, Max snapped the reins and made the horse race. Pat extended a big arm toward his daughter. “Hold on. Something’s wrong.”

Instinctively, Etta put her arms around Nellie. After all, she’d been taking care of the child since the day she was born.

The buggy hit rocks and potholes and one time nearly turned over, but Max didn’t slow down.

Etta tried to see what was going on, but she was bent over Nellie in protection.

Max drove past the house and jumped out before the vehicle stopped. Pat grabbed the reins, got the excited horse to stop, then jumped down. Etta knew him well so she yelled, “Pat!” then fell forward. He caught her easily, set her on the ground, then caught his daughter in the same way.

“Go into the house,” Etta said to Nellie in the tone she used when her niece’s safety was in jeopardy. The child obeyed.

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