Free Twice Blessed by Jo Ann Ferguson

were rough as a woodworker’s should be, but gentle. She could imagine him stroking a piece of wood as he decided how he would turn it into something beautiful and useful.
    Her heart thudded against her chest when his hair brushed her leg. Her fingers tingled with the craving to sift through those dark strands. Would it be as coarse as his fingers or as silken as his water-stained vest?
    He looked up at her, and, for a moment, his gaze held hers. Or was it more than a moment? She could not tell.
    She must have hidden her thoughts, because he asked only, “Is your foot terribly sore?”
    â€œNot as sore as Queenie’s tail, I fear.” Emma drew her foot out of his hand and brushed the coverlet over her ankle, which had been too boldly displayed. “Queenie is my cantankerous cat. Her tail, unfortunately, was right under my foot when you startled me with your knock on the door.”
    â€œYou should tend to this foot before it gets infected.”
    â€œI shall.” She smiled. “I shall retrieve the powders I used to tend to your dog and take care of my careless foot.”
    He stood as she did, and she again took a step back to put more than a hand’s breadth between them. She bumped into the table and clutched its edge. In silence, she gazed up at him.
    For the length of a pair of heartbeats, he did not move. Neither did she, for she was not certain she could when his gaze held her in a warm embrace.
    His hand came up to cup her cheek. She could not silence her gasp as he lowered his face toward hers as he had in the store. Reverend Faulkner and Sean would not be coming in to intrude this time. Every inch of her waited in eager anticipation for his kiss. This was foolish, but she suddenly wanted to do something utterly foolish. Letting him kiss her was the most foolish thing she could imagine now. It was the only thing she could imagine now.
    His gaze swept her face as his thumb brushed her jaw. Her knees trembled, and she reached out to steady herself. When her fingers settled on his chest, he became motionless again. She wanted to yell at him to kiss her. She wanted to chide him and tell him to unhand her this very moment. As his other hand curved along her cheek, she feared she could not endure a second more of this exquisite suspense.
    Then he kissed her … on the cheek as he said, “Thank you again, Emma, for keeping Belinda’s heart from breaking.” He stepped away and motioned for her to precede him into the parlor.
    Emma turned stiffly and fought to calm her pounding heart. She should be grateful that Noah was showing more good judgment than she was. This longing for him to kiss her was not at all like her. The horrible dream and her exhaustion must have banished her common sense.
    Keeping her steps slow, she walked into the front room. Fuzzball was snoring by the stove, and Belinda was curled into a ball almost as tight as Cleo as they slept together on the sofa. On the far side of the stove, Sean was now rolled in the blanket he must have gotten from his bed.
    Noah looked from the dog to his daughter and smiled. “This is going to be a challenge,” he whispered.
    â€œWait here.” She rushed up the stairs and collected the two quilts from the bottom of the trunk at the foot of her bed. She brought them downstairs and handed one to him. “These will keep the two of them dry. I’m sorry. These are the last two I have.”
    â€œI shouldn’t take them.”
    â€œIt’s still raining hard.”
    He grimaced as he looked out the window. “The creek was already high from the snowmelt farther north. I hope this rain doesn’t continue too long. We should hurry. My buckboard is out front. They’ll be dry once they’re under the oilcloth in the back.”
    â€œIf you can carry Fuzzball, Noah, I’ll get your daughter.” She did not want to speak Belinda’s name, for that chanced waking the little