A Family for the Farmer by Laurel Blount

are tricky things sometimes. I’ve left a few open myself, and so has your mama.” His eyes twinkled over at Emily, reminding her silently of the many times he’d had to round up animals she’d accidently let out. She flushed, and Abel grinned. “So, apple bread? Is that what I smell?” His glance dropped down to the plate Emily held in her hands and then came back up to her face.
    She nodded, hating the blush she felt brightening her cheeks. What was it about this man that made her act like a self-conscious schoolgirl? “I hope you like it.”
    â€œI’m sure I will. I’ve never had apple bread before, but it sounds like something that would go good with a cup of coffee.”
    â€œYou’ve never had it before, because Mama just made it up this morning.” Paul tilted his head to peer around Abel into the workshop. “She’s all the time making up new recipes. Are you making something? Can we see?”
    â€œPaul.” Emily was mortified. “Mr. Abel’s busy.”
    â€œSure you can. Come on in.”
    Like the cabin, Abel’s workshop was neat and bright, its walls studded with shelves of tools and carvings in various stages of completion. There were a lot of them, and the place had a professional air to it. Emily blinked. She hadn’t realized that he took his carving so seriously.
    â€œWe won’t stay long. We don’t want to bother you,” she said.
    â€œI’m ready for a break. You’ve timed it just right.” Abel tousled Paul’s hair as he walked past the boy to his workbench. Emily watched as Abel quietly gathered up a set of sharp-looking chisels and set them carefully on a shelf out of the twins’ reach. “Now, then. Look around all you like.”
    â€œBut don’t touch anything,” Emily cautioned quickly.
    â€œDon’t worry about that. My carvings are meant to be handled. Phoebe and Paul can’t hurt them.”
    â€œI hope you’re right, but we’d better keep an eye on them just the same. Phoebe means well, but her enthusiasm gets the better of her a lot of the time. And if you turn your back on Paul, he’ll be taking every machine in here apart to see how it works. Unfortunately he’s not always successful at putting them back together.” She was babbling.
    â€œThey’ll be all right,” Abel replied easily. “They’re good, smart kids. They’re welcome here anytime.”
    â€œOooh, Mama,” Phoebe called in an awed voice from the far corner of the workshop. “Look at this!”
    Her daughter was standing in front of a life-size carving of a beautiful white-tailed buck. Emily felt Abel gently take the plate of apple bread out of her hands as she walked over to get a closer look.
    The buck had been carved out of a single massive piece of wood, and he stood frozen on his pedestal in an alert pose as if he had just lifted his antlered head at an unexpected sound. Emily didn’t know anything about wood carving, but even she could see how Abel had skillfully incorporated the gnarl of the wood into the shape of his final creation. It looked so lifelike that Emily reached out to touch it, forgetting her instructions to her children. She was almost surprised when she felt cool, hard wood beneath her fingertip instead of the warmth of a living animal.
    * * *
    From across the room, Abel watched Emily admire his buck for several minutes. He hesitated, then finally set down the plate and crossed over to stand beside her.
    â€œHe’s incredible,” Emily breathed. “I can’t imagine the time this must have taken.”
    â€œHe was a little troublesome,” Abel agreed with a wry smile. “I traipsed around in the woods for months trying to catch glimpses of that particular whitetail so I could sketch him, and then the carving took close to nine months of steady work.”
    â€œI see it paid off.” Emily indicated the