Free Autumn Winds by Charlotte Hubbard

foods place over past Morning Star.”
    “ Gut as your homemade ice cream is, ya ought to be sellin’ that, Tom!” Rhoda said with a grin. “I was real sorry we left the Zooks’ so early. I was lookin’ forward to some of that ice cream with a piece of strawberry cream cake.”
    Micah moved the tines of his fork over his plate to catch the last moist crumbs. He was a big, brawny young fellow but gave a lot of thought to things before he said them. “Ben, it seems to me a farrier like yourself would have full-time work here in Willow Ridge without the mill. I saw that right off over breakfast yesterday, the way fellas were linin’ up to have ya come to their places.”
    “There’s that,” Ben agreed. “I never run out of horses to shoe in Plain settlements, no matter where I go. My wagon might not look like much, but I’ve made myself a right nice livin’ over the years.” He paused then, to close his eyes over a mouthful of the most luscious dessert he’d ever tasted. “Miriam Lantz, I don’t know what kind of wand ya waved over this cake, but it’s nothin’ short of magic.”
    When Miriam leaned forward to smile at him from the other side of Rhoda, her face glowed like a pink rose. “The secret is usin’ the best brand of coconut and a lot of oil and eggs—not that you’ll be tryin’ out the recipe anytime soon, ain’t so?”
    Ben laughed. It was a sudden outburst, totally unexpected, and when everyone else joined in, he felt indescribably wonderful . . . like he belonged here. All the controversy and conflict with Hiram Knepp lifted, like an autumn fog that dissipated from above a river when the sunshine struck it. How long since he’d sat among friends, on a blanket beneath a tree? How long since he’d talked about his dream of a mill . . . branching into a new and different enterprise?
    Sunshine . . . that’s what Miriam Lantz reminded him of. Never mind all this business with the bishop; the woman who looked at him with those wide, doe-like eyes and smiled from deep in her heart was taking his breath away, right here in front of all these other folks. There was nothing secretive about her. No petty games or pity parties or playing up to win his attention.
    How long before ya ask Miriam to meet ya out here alone, in the moonlight, when there’s nobody else around and no tree limbs to pull out of windows? Just you and her, cozy and close . . .
    “If ya want a place to work on some of that equipment, Ben, you’re welcome to set up in Jesse’s shop.” Miriam’s voice sounded clear and confident. No wavering over the fact that her late husband had built that business, and no asking her girls what they might think of the idea, either.
    Ben’s eyes widened. Tom, Micah, the twins, and Miriam were all waiting for his answer. Their faces differed in age and complexion, but their expectant expressions and suspended cake forks told him his reply mattered to them.
    “That’s quite an honor,” he murmured, returning Miriam’s gaze as though no one else were there. “And I’ll take ya up on it, too.”

Chapter 8
    “And where will ya be sleepin’, Ben?” Rhoda asked later that evening when they’d come in to sit on the porch. She realized then how odd that sounded, for her to be asking such a question of a man, so she added, “I mean, if you’re usin’ the forge and Dat’s equipment, it seems only sensible that ya sleep upstairs in the new apartment.”
    Ben Hooley’s eyes widened. He looked over at Rachel and Mamma, who sat in the porch swing. “I don’t want to take somebody else’s bed, but—”
    “Rhoda and I’ll be stayin’ here in this house until Rachel and Micah get hitched,” Miriam clarified. “And if you’ve been sleepin’ in your wagon all this time, a real bed—and a bathroom—might be to your likin’. That was a gut idea, Rhoda!”
    Rhoda grinned. High time she got recognized for something, on account of how crossways she’d felt ever since Mamma had spent