Anna's Gift Read Online Free PDF Page B

with her prize.
    â€œThey’re burned,” Naomi pronounced, turning in a circle in the middle of the biscuits. “You burned them, Anna.”
    â€œNever mind the biscuits, just pick them up,” Samuel said. Somehow, before Anna could think what to do next, he had taken charge. He crossed the kitchen, retrieved the cast-iron frying pan from the floor using a hand towel, and set it safely on top of the stove. “How bad is the burn?” he asked as he put an arm around her shoulders, guiding her to the sink. “Is it going to blister?”
    â€œI’m all right,” Anna protested, twisting out of his warm embrace. Her palm stung, but she was hardly aware of it. All she could think of was the sensation of Samuel’s strong arm around her and the way her knees felt as wobbly as if they were made of biscuit dough.
    Samuel gently took her hand in his large calloused one, turned on the faucet, and held her palm under the cold water. “It doesn’t look bad,” he said.
    â€œNe.” Anna felt foolish. How could she have been so careless? She was an experienced cook. She knew better than to take anything out of the oven without a hot mitt.
    â€œLet the water do its work.” Samuel said, speaking softly, as if to a skittish colt, and the tenderness in his deep voice made Anna’s heart go all a-flutter again. “The cold will take the sting away.”
    â€œDoes it hurt?” Susanna asked.
    Anna glanced at her sister. Susanna looked as if she were about to burst into tears. “ Ne. It’s fine,” Anna assured her. Susanna couldn’t bear to see anyone in pain. From the corner of her eye, Anna saw Mae raise a biscuit to her mouth. “Don’t eat that,” she cautioned. “It’s dirty if it’s been on the floor.”
    Samuel chuckled, picked up a handful of the biscuits and brushed them off against his shirt. “A little scorched, but not so bad they can’t be salvaged,” he said.
    â€œIn our house, we have a five-second rule,” Naomi explained, grabbing more biscuits off the floor. “If you grab it up quick, it’s okay.”
    â€œMam says floors are dirty,” Susanna said, but she was picking up biscuits as well, piling them on a plate on the table.
    Anna knew her face must be as hot as the skillet. Why was it that the minute Samuel Mast walked in the door, she turned into a complete klutz? She hadn’t burned biscuits in years. She always paid close attention to whatever she had in the oven. She wished she could throw her apron over her face and run away, like yesterday, but she knew that she couldn’t get away with that twice.
    â€œDon’t put them on the table,” Anna said. “They’re ruined. I’ll feed them to the chickens.”
    â€œBut I want biscuit and honey,” Mae pouted, eyeing the heaped plate. “Yes’erday, she…” She pointed at Susanna. “ She gave me a honey biscuit. It was yum.”
    â€œShh,” Naomi said to her little sister. “Remember your manners, Mae.”
    â€œI can make more,” Anna offered.
    â€œNonsense.” Samuel scooped up Mae and raised her high in the air, coaxing a giggle out of her. “We’ll cut off the burned parts and eat the other half, won’t we?”
    Anna took a deep breath and shook her head. She was mortified. What would Mam think, if she found out that she’d served guests burned biscuits they’d picked up off the floor? Pride might be a sin, but Mam had high standards for her kitchen. And so did she, for that matter. “Really, Samuel,” she protested. “I’d rather make another batch.”
    â€œTell you what,” he offered, depositing Mae on the floor and unbuttoning his coat. “I came here to offer you a deal. Maybe we can make biscuits part of it.”
    â€œI…I l-l-like b-biscuits,” Lori Ann said shyly. “A-a-and I’m