Patchwork Dreams Read Online Free PDF Page B

After all, they couldn’t sell the bruised, wormy, bird-pecked, or misshapen ones. So, they were used in baking.
    His stomach rumbled at the thought of apple fritters as he went up the porch steps.
    It still seemed strange to open the door of someone else’s house and walk in, but since he was living here for the time being, he decided he’d better get used to it. After closing the door behind him and taking a few steps inside, he stopped to sniff and smelled a strong, lemon-scented cleaner mixed with something sweet. His stomach rumbled. Then a small sound akin to a whimper caught his attention, and he looked down to see Becky, kneeling in the entryway, a rag in her hands and a bucket of soapy water by her side.
    Jacob swallowed, hoping he hadn’t tracked dirt inside. Had he stepped where she’d already scrubbed, or was she getting ready to wash that area? He didn’t know. Either way, it wasn’t good.
    He stepped back, deciding to tease about it. “It’s okay, Bex. You don’t need to bow to me.”
    Her eyes widened, but he didn’t get the smile he’d hoped for. Her lips didn’t even twitch. “Bex?” Her voice came out in a squeak. “Bow?”
    Jacob grinned. “You are too cute. I just want a glass of water. I’ll be out of your way in a moment.”
    ***
    Becky watched Jacob as he stepped around her and went to the gas-powered refrigerator for a pitcher of cold water, then to the cupboard for a glass. Nobody had ever called her “Bex” before. She wasn’t sure how she felt about it. She wanted to dislike it. But she did like something about the implied familiarity, the sound of her name tumbling off his lips in that carefree way.
    And telling her she was “too cute”? What did that mean? Did he find her attractive? Or did he mean it as someone might describe one of those stray tomcats that are so ugly they’re cute? Was he referring to the newborn puppy sort of cute? She wanted to ask. But her courage fled even as she considered voicing her question.
    Why bother asking? He’d hesitate to tell her if it was negative.
    He turned to face her as he downed the liquid in one long gulp, then set the glass in the sink. With a wink, he stepped around her again. “Smells gut in here. You’ll be a gut frau someday.” The door closed solidly behind him.
    That wink had sent her nerves sizzling with hopefulness.
    She gave herself a mental shaking as tears burned her eyes. She’d never be a good wife. Maybe a mother’s helper. Everyone knew she was destined to be an old maid. She hoped he hadn’t intended to be unkind. Maybe he didn’t realize how hurtful his words were.
    Becky blinked the moisture away. She needed to focus on her task, not her situation.
    She finished scrubbing the floor, then took the cobblers out of the oven. They were done to perfection, lightly browned, and smelled delicious. She set them on the counter, glanced at her sleeping boppli in the cradle in the corner, and went looking for Mamm.
    Becky found her browsing through a seed catalog.
    She looked up at Becky and smiled. “This came in the mail a while back. Since I didn’t have a chance to look at it then, I decided to take a short break. Kum join me?”
    It always seemed odd to Becky that the catalogs came in the mail the first few weeks of January, too soon to think about gardening. But they’d be starting seedlings in the greenhouse in the next several weeks so that the Englisch could be supplied with tomatoes, peppers, and other vegetables and fruit ready to plant. Not only Englisch. The Amish took advantage of them, too.
    “What do you think of this, Becky?”
    Becky sat next to Mamm and glanced at the picture of an heirloom tomato and read a shortened version of the description. “A type of yellow fruit, known for its sweetness.”
    “Sounds gut to me. But yellow tomatoes don’t sell as well as red.”
    Mamm lifted a shoulder. “We’ll keep it for ourselves.”
    “Jah.” That would work. “Do you need me for anything