Free The Imposter by Suzanne Woods Fisher Page B

could be of better assistance. Therefore I will wait until—”
    Fern leaned over the table. “Boy, you have a brain. Make yourself useful.” Her eyes swept downward toward the buggy shop. She swept a few dishes off the table and whisked them to the sink. “Freeman wants an inventory of everything on this farm. Every cow, every sheep, every tool. He said he wants it down to the number of nails in a brown paper bag. You get started on the buggy shop. And while you’re making the inventory, do a little cleaning. We’re hosting church in a week’s time. Everything in that shop needs to be spick-and-span. I’ll be down within the hour to check on your progress.”
    And that was definitely that.
    Caught by surprise, Jesse had an odd feeling that the supervision of his apprenticeship had just changed hands and he was now reporting to Fern Lapp.

5

    A blast of wind slammed into the windows, and upstairs something rattled.
    Katrina stretched out under her covers, gobsmacked by the exhaustion that had plagued her for the last few days. She’d had indigestion all last night, so badly that she had to get up for Tums six or seven times, and it still bothered her now. Eating eased it a little, though the coleslaw she’d had for supper hadn’t helped.
    Neither had the fact that John had yet to return her phone call.
    She had tossed and turned every night since making that call, dozing off and on, reviewing their relationship, flashing on memories she’d struggled to stop thinking of. It amazed her to think that leaving a simple phone message for John would cause her to lose sleep. How many times would she and John sit together and talk for hours about everything and nothing? Just ordinary things, all of it.
    Gone.
    She wondered if Bethany was feeling the same way afterJimmy Fisher’s abrupt departure yesterday. Why did love have to be so difficult, so filled with peaks and valleys? More valleys than peaks, it seemed.
    She finally gave up on sleep and got out of bed. She checked on Thelma, listened for a moment to her whiffling snore, and decided to take a walk before breakfast. A soft morning light was gently, slowly filling the sky. Chickens clucked and flapped when they saw her, expecting breakfast. Her ladies, Thelma called them. “You’ll have to wait a little longer, ladies,” she said as she passed the henhouse. She took a deep breath of sweet morning air and found that it eased her anxiety a little. Just a little, but it helped.
    She climbed the path that led to the moss hill. The sight of the morning sun hitting the bright green giant pincushions caught her right in the throat and she halted, almost aching. The rocks were almost glowing, nearly iridescent, in the slant of the morning sun.
    She sat down on a rock and took a deep breath, in and out. The pain she’d been carrying let go, as if she’d dropped a heavy backpack to the ground.
    This. This was what she needed. Time alone, time without responsibilities. Time to think. To heal.
    She turned around and saw Andy cresting the hill. She lifted a hand in a wave.
    â€œYou’re up early,” Andy said. He’d come up the path, carrying a shovel in one gloved hand and a heavy burlap bag in the other. He pushed the brim of his straw hat back with one hand, and she could see that he’d been working hard. Sweat rolled down the sides of his face.
    â€œI couldn’t sleep.”
    He hesitated, then set down his shovel and sack and satdown on the rock next to hers. He was staring at the trees that lined the base of the hill, and this gave Katrina a chance to study him. He was quite a fine-looking man. Different than John, but definitely attractive in his own way. She wondered what Bethany Schrock might think of Andy Miller, now that Jimmy Fisher had abandoned her for Colorado.
    He turned toward her so suddenly that he caught her staring at him and his blue eyes crinkled with amusement. Probably