blushed. “Of course, I referred to the tub.”
He laughed. “Don’t look so scandalized, princess. I was joking.”
Her face grew redder by the minute. She’d never joked with a man before and didn’t know what to say. “It won’t take long to fill at least.”
“Its more work than you’re used to, I’ll wager.”
“I can do it.” She glanced around the room and spotted the pots on the stove. “Where’s the water?”
“There’s a cistern outside,” he said patiently.
“Outside.”
“Gets better and better, doesn’t it?”
He’d read her mind. “No, no, its fine. I should have no problem.”
Ben snatched up a pot from the stove. “Come with me.”
She followed him outside to a large drum next to the house. “It looks a hundred years old.”
“Mental rusts here in a matter of months. It’s the salt air. The only fresh water here is rainwater. The cistern catches it.”
She watched as he dipped the pot in the water. She looked in the pot. “The water is a little yellow.”
“The rust. But its safe.”
He carried the bucket inside and placed it on the stove. “Let me fill the others.”
“I can do it.”
“It’s hard work, princess.”
“I’m not afraid of work.”
He took her hand in his and turned it over. “Not one callus. Lily-white.”
Shivers danced down her spine. “Its time they had a few calluses.”
He traced his finger over a small scar that hooked around her thumb. “How’d you get this?”
She’d cut it when Peter had forced her to pick up a broken tumbler he’d smashed against the wall.
Rachel pulled her hand away, curling her fingers over the scar. “I was careless.”
He held her fist in his hand. “I doubt you had a careless day in your life.”
She saw the questions in his eyes. “I need to get ready for my bath.”
He shrugged. “How about I hang around while you fill the tub, just in case it’s more work than you realized.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“It is to me.”
The quiet determination in his words touched her. She tore her gaze from his. “It’s no great mystery. Fill the pot with water and heat it.” She went to the stove and picked up an empty pot. The pot weighed more than she’d imagined. Ben had made it look so effortless.
The bucket thumped against the side of the stove and then her legs as she pulled it off the stove. Her life had changed forever and the time had arrived for her to learn independence. However, it would have been nicer to tackle this little task without an audience.
Pot in hand, she headed out the back door to the cistern. She dunked the bucket in the water but discovered that with it full, it was too heavy to lift.
“Good Lord, it weighs a ton.”
“Had enough?” Ben said.
The wind had swept his black hair over his eyes. He looked quite handsome.
She blew a strand of hair out of her eyes. “No.One way or another I’ll get the pot inside.” The pot handle bit into her fingers as she tried to lift it.
“Maybe, but I’ll be damned if I’ll stand here on my afternoon off and watch you break your back.” He took the pot from her and carried it inside.
She followed behind him. “I need to learn these things, if I am to be a strong, independent woman.”
“A bucket of water and a wrenched back won’t prove anything.” He set the pot on the stove. “It’ll be an hour before the water’s warm enough.”
“An hour?” For years she’d ordered baths without a second thought.
“I’ll get you soap and towels from my room.” He strode out before she commented.
“I can at least do that.”
“Please sit. Next time,” he said.
Rachel sat at the kitchen table and began to unwind the long braid that hung down her back. She combed her fingers through her thick mane of hair. It would take at least an hour to work the knots from it.
“I brought a comb,” he said, returning. He set the towels and soap on the table. “Figured you could use it.”
“Thank you. You must be a mind
He laughed. “Don’t look so scandalized, princess. I was joking.”
Her face grew redder by the minute. She’d never joked with a man before and didn’t know what to say. “It won’t take long to fill at least.”
“Its more work than you’re used to, I’ll wager.”
“I can do it.” She glanced around the room and spotted the pots on the stove. “Where’s the water?”
“There’s a cistern outside,” he said patiently.
“Outside.”
“Gets better and better, doesn’t it?”
He’d read her mind. “No, no, its fine. I should have no problem.”
Ben snatched up a pot from the stove. “Come with me.”
She followed him outside to a large drum next to the house. “It looks a hundred years old.”
“Mental rusts here in a matter of months. It’s the salt air. The only fresh water here is rainwater. The cistern catches it.”
She watched as he dipped the pot in the water. She looked in the pot. “The water is a little yellow.”
“The rust. But its safe.”
He carried the bucket inside and placed it on the stove. “Let me fill the others.”
“I can do it.”
“It’s hard work, princess.”
“I’m not afraid of work.”
He took her hand in his and turned it over. “Not one callus. Lily-white.”
Shivers danced down her spine. “Its time they had a few calluses.”
He traced his finger over a small scar that hooked around her thumb. “How’d you get this?”
She’d cut it when Peter had forced her to pick up a broken tumbler he’d smashed against the wall.
Rachel pulled her hand away, curling her fingers over the scar. “I was careless.”
He held her fist in his hand. “I doubt you had a careless day in your life.”
She saw the questions in his eyes. “I need to get ready for my bath.”
He shrugged. “How about I hang around while you fill the tub, just in case it’s more work than you realized.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“It is to me.”
The quiet determination in his words touched her. She tore her gaze from his. “It’s no great mystery. Fill the pot with water and heat it.” She went to the stove and picked up an empty pot. The pot weighed more than she’d imagined. Ben had made it look so effortless.
The bucket thumped against the side of the stove and then her legs as she pulled it off the stove. Her life had changed forever and the time had arrived for her to learn independence. However, it would have been nicer to tackle this little task without an audience.
Pot in hand, she headed out the back door to the cistern. She dunked the bucket in the water but discovered that with it full, it was too heavy to lift.
“Good Lord, it weighs a ton.”
“Had enough?” Ben said.
The wind had swept his black hair over his eyes. He looked quite handsome.
She blew a strand of hair out of her eyes. “No.One way or another I’ll get the pot inside.” The pot handle bit into her fingers as she tried to lift it.
“Maybe, but I’ll be damned if I’ll stand here on my afternoon off and watch you break your back.” He took the pot from her and carried it inside.
She followed behind him. “I need to learn these things, if I am to be a strong, independent woman.”
“A bucket of water and a wrenched back won’t prove anything.” He set the pot on the stove. “It’ll be an hour before the water’s warm enough.”
“An hour?” For years she’d ordered baths without a second thought.
“I’ll get you soap and towels from my room.” He strode out before she commented.
“I can at least do that.”
“Please sit. Next time,” he said.
Rachel sat at the kitchen table and began to unwind the long braid that hung down her back. She combed her fingers through her thick mane of hair. It would take at least an hour to work the knots from it.
“I brought a comb,” he said, returning. He set the towels and soap on the table. “Figured you could use it.”
“Thank you. You must be a mind
Similar Books
