“Can I help?” asked Avery.
“Sure you can, sweetie.” Claire poured milk into a metal tumbler and handed it to Ash. “You’re never too young to learn.”
Too bad his parents didn’t treat the twins like that. No helping until they were old enough to actually do the job properly. By then, Mason doubted the kids would be interested. He needed to pull his parenting role models from Green Acres instead.
“Yay.” Avery shot a triumphant look at her twin. “I get to help.”
“So?” Christopher scowled back. “It’s sissy stuff.”
Noel reached across the corner of the table and tousled Christopher’s hair. “A man who likes to eat should learn to cook and bake. It’s definitely not sissy stuff.”
“Thanks,” Mason mouthed at his friend as his son stared quizzically at Noel.
“Maybe if the girls are baking bread, we guys can make dessert for later. Looks like we’ll be spending most of the day inside anyway.” Noel tilted his head at Christopher. “You up for that, buddy?”
“Cookies?”
“I was thinking more of a huckleberry platz, but we can probably squeeze in a few dozen cookies. Good thing we have two ovens.”
“I like peanut butter.” Christopher crossed his arms.
“We can do that.”
“Peanut butter?” Mason raised his eyebrows at Noel. “Doesn’t sound very local.”
Noel grinned. “And you’d be right, but we can’t get enough local hazelnuts to make our own nut butter yet. Our trees have just started producing, and we seem to have plenty of uses for the few we’ve got so far without grinding them.”
“Well, that’s cool.” Mason nudged Christopher’s shoulder. “My son got his love of peanut butter cookies from me. I’m definitely in, if only to justify eating all the ones I plan to.”
Liz glanced up from poking her eggs around her plate. She didn’t seem to have much of an appetite.
Just the thought of spending part of the day in the kitchen with Liz roused Mason’s hunger, and he dug into his breakfast. It wasn’t hard to be thankful his electricity was out next door.
Chapter 11
Liz kneaded a six-loaf batch of sourdough bread, giving the large aluminum bowl a quarter spin with each push. “A little more flour.”
Avery had the system down pat with a quarter-cup measure. She sprinkled flour along the edge of the dough as Liz held it back.
Noel had been right. Her hands remembered how to knead. She glanced at Claire. “Is this usually your job?”
“Oh, not at all. Several of us rotate, so my turn only comes up every two weeks or so. Sierra, Gabe, Chelsea, and Keanan are also on regular rotation, but they’re in Portland right now. They were thinking of driving back today, but with so much ice on the highways, they’re waiting until tomorrow. Anyway, Noel pitches in sometimes on bread, and so does Jo.”
Curiosity got the better of Liz. “How do you decide who does what chore?”
Claire stood across the island, chopping vegetables for stew. “At first we rotated everything evenly no matter what, but Gabe came up with a new system when he married Sierra and joined the team. He made a detailed list of all the daily and weekly chores from dishwashing to feeding the animals then assigned everyone a number of chores. Some were assigned a smaller number, like Allison, Brent, and Zach, since they work full-time. We each volunteered for the ones we wanted and did some shuffling to cover the remainder. It’s worked out pretty well.”
“I can’t imagine what it takes to run a place like this.” Especially when extra people showed up, like Mason and the twins. As far as she’d observed, he didn’t have a regular assignment. But then, he wasn’t really part of Green Acres. He just rented the old farmhouse and invited himself over a lot.
Wearing an apron with Stand Clear: Man Cooking blazoned across the front, Mason ran the big Bosch mixer while Christopher dumped in flour from a pre-measured container.
She’d never seen the day coming when Mason would be so domesticated. There were a lot of things about him she didn’t know. She’d assumed too much. Could a guy change as much as he seemed to have?
Knead. Spin. Knead. Spin.
Adoring blue eyes gazed at her from just beyond the bowl’s rim. Avery had a serious case of hero worship for Liz. What had she done to deserve that?
Liz lifted the elastic dough into a second large bowl that Claire had greased for her. She covered it with a damp towel. “Where does this rise?”
“The shelf above the cook stove.”
After she set the bowl in the alcove, she turned back to Claire. “Want help with the stew?”
“Sure. You can scrub and peel the parsnips in the sink.”
“I’ll help!” Avery scooted the stool over to the sink.
Liz sighed. The child was sweet, and the circumstances of her birth weren’t her fault. But she obviously had designs on finding a new mother, and Liz hated to see her crushed. Liz was definitely not volunteering for the job.
She peeled parsnips and a turnip while Avery ran each vegetable over to Claire for chopping. Behind her, Noel explained to Christopher how to mound dough on the cookie sheet.
“Excuse me.”
Liz jumped at Mason’s voice right beside her.
“Mind if I wash this out in the second sink?” He held up the bowl for the Bosch. “Noel needs it for the dough for dessert.”
“Um, go ahead.” Liz scooted over as far as she could and still reach the remaining carrots. She couldn’t very well leave the kitchen just because Mason stood next to her, heat from his arm warming hers.
He turned the tap his direction, letting it run until the water warmed while he squirted detergent into the bowl.
Liz held her breath and waited.
Mason glanced at her. “Sorry.” When his bowl was half full of water, he turned off the faucet and swiveled it back to her. He picked up a scrubby and swished it around. “Thanks for letting Avery help,” he said quietly.
Liz lifted a shoulder. “It’s okay.”
“No, really. She craves normal, and she doesn’t get enough of it.”
“I noticed.”
He winced. “I know you hate me, and I can’t say that I blame you. Thanks for not taking it out on my kids.”
She’d been tempted, a time or two, but she’d been raised better than that. “It’s not their fault.”
Mason glanced her direction, pursing his lips. “Thanks for noticing.”
“Quit thanking me. I haven’t done anything to deserve it.”
“Sorry.”
He could stop saying that, too. Liz glanced behind her to see Avery cutting up a parsnip under Claire’s close supervision. The little girl bit her lip in concentration. “I’m sure you’ll soon find the perfect woman for you and the twins, and your daughter will get all the affirmation she needs.”
Wonder what Mason’s perfect woman would look like.
He watched her, but she didn’t turn to meet his gaze. “I haven’t been looking for anyone since Erin left us.” His voice was so quiet she could barely hear him. “Until recently.”
Liz swung to face him. “I’m not sure what you’re saying.” She had some guesses, and didn’t like the direction of them.
Both kids looked over from their tasks. Great. All Liz needed was to interest everyone else in this conversation. She turned back to the sink and picked up another carrot.
Mason twisted the faucet to rinse his bowl. He glanced over his shoulder then leaned closer to her. “I’m saying I’m really glad to see you again, Liz. I’m thankful God brought you home to Galena Landing.”
“That’s got nothing to do with your kids. I’m leaving as soon as I can, and you can get right back to doing whatever it is you do. Don’t let me interfere with your life, and don’t get any thoughts about permanence.”
“I’m praying for you, Liz.”
Great. Just what she needed. She jerked the tap back to her side of the sink. “Don’t bother.”
“That
’s the thing, Liz. You can’t stop someone from praying for you. You can’t stop God from pursuing you. Trust me, I know. He keeps at it.”
She shifted further from him. This was why she needed out of Galena Landing as soon as possible. The recruiting office didn’t open for another week, but surely there was someplace she could go in between. Cindy’s or Heather’s? Like either would be an improvement. Their God-talk would make Mason’s sound like he was an amateur. Because he was.
If there were any justice in this world, Mason wouldn’t be all cozy with Jesus. Any God who’d forgive Mason was not a God she wanted to be close to. If He even existed.
Something panged inside. She could question that all she wanted, but deep down inside, she knew God was real.
* * *
Mason and Christopher joined Zach and Noel in tossing hay to the Percherons as well as the cows and sheep. Christopher gathered eggs while Noel added a second heater to the chicken barn. With all of them working together, it didn’t take long to see to the animals’ needs.
Noel peeked into the greenhouse as they walked back to the house and grimaced. “That’s it for anything fresh out of there for a couple of months. I’ll come out tomorrow and grab those frozen cabbages. Maybe we’ll have a cabbage-roll-making day.”
Christopher’s nose wrinkled.
Noel clapped him on the shoulder. “Have you ever had them?”
The boy shook his head. “Cabbage is yucky.”
“And that’s where you’d be wrong.” Noel chuckled. “I’ll see what’s on the menu for tomorrow, but with the Portlanders still away, I’m pretty sure Claire and I get kitchen duty.”
“You might still be stuck with us.” Spending the day around Liz, though she’d barely spoken to him, had made today one of the best Mason had had in recent memory, but the thought of returning to the farmhouse in its sub-zero condition was out of the question.
“You can’t sleep over there in that cold,” Zach put in.
“There’s a spare room in our house.” Noel blew out a breath that froze in the cold air. “While we’re bundled up, why don’t we all go and help you bring back what you and the kids will need overnight?”
“Are you sure?” Mason hadn’t wanted to assume.
Noel swung his head to look at Mason, his eyebrows drawn together. “Of course. You think we’d put you out in this weather?”
He’d done some winter camping as a teen, but his five-year-olds weren’t up for that. “Thanks. You’re right. This is as good a time as any to get some toothbrushes, pajamas, and clothes for tomorrow.”
They tromped down the trail between the two farms single file, the chill deepening as the sun touched the far horizon.
“I hope those frozen water pipes don’t burst,” Zach said as they entered the house.
The temperature wasn’t a noticeable improvement from outside. “Yeah, could be a mess if they do. Christopher, get your backpack and put some clean clothes in it, okay?” Thankfully Mason had done the laundry just before Christmas. Stuff wasn’t folded, but the children’s baskets were back in their rooms.
“Do I have to take my boots off?”
Mason shook his head. “Keep them on and go for it.”
Christopher’s eyes brightened, and he headed for the staircase.
Zach chuckled. “What kid doesn’t want to get away with wearing boots inside? Noel, want to come have a look at the pipes in the basement with me?” Noel nodded and the two men tromped down the steep steps to the lower level.
Mason followed his son up, found his and Avery’s backpacks, and stuffed both with essentials. He crammed Avery’s favorite teddy bear into the top of hers then zipped it. “Ready, buddy?”
“It’s c-cold in here.” Christopher stood in the doorway, shrugging his Batman pack over his shoulders.
“Yep. Sure is.”
“Dad, why can’t we live at Noel and Claire’s house all the time? Their house is warm and they have cookies and good food.”
Mason grinned at his son. “They do, but we’re not part of their family. We are our own family.”
“But we don’t have a mom. I’ve been thinking about what Avery said, that she wants a mom. I do, too.”
This wasn’t the time to let his son know that Erin wanted to visit. “I’d like you to have one, too, but it’s not quite that simple.”
“What about Miss Liz? I don’t think she already has kids. She could be our mom. She seems kind of nice, and I think she can cook.”
“You telling me I can’t?”
Christopher rolled his eyes. “You’re a man, Dad. Cooking is a job for a woman.”
“Haven’t you ever noticed that Noel cooks more often than anyone else at that house? That all the men cook sometimes?”
“Well, I guess…” His puffed breath froze in the air.
“It’s not a woman’s job, son. It’s how things in families often land up, especially if the dad has a job in town like Zach and Brent do. In real families like over at Green Acres, everyone does whatever jobs need doing. If they’re especially good at cooking, like Noel and Claire, then they do that job oftener than some other people do.”
“Anyway, me and Avery want a mom. Partly because you’re not really good at cooking and because we want someone to hug us and love us.”
Mason crouched in front of his son. “Don’t I hug you and love you?”
Christopher stepped into his open arms. “Yeah, but a mom could do it better.”
Tears prickled the corners of Mason’s eyes and froze in place. “You know we can ask God for anything when we pray, right? So if we ask God to give you a mom, maybe He will say yes.”
The serious blue eyes looked deep into Mason’s own. “Do you think so?”
“God says in the Bible that sometimes we don’t have things because we don’t ask. He wants to hear our requests. He wants us to tell Him the things we need.”
And if God were listening, He’d been hearing a lot from Mason lately on the same topic. He usually framed the request differently, though. When Mason asked, it was more like, “Please, Lord, let Liz forgive me and love me enough to marry me.”
Chapter 12
“Great bread, sis.” Zach reached for another piece.
“Very good.” Mason nodded in Liz’s direction as he buttered a steaming slice for Christopher.
“I had a good helper.” Liz smiled at Avery, and the little girl beamed back.
“You guys had a crazy kitchen day.” Jo added a few pieces of carrot and parsnip to John’s highchair tray then turned to Maddie. “Eat three more bites and you can have a cookie for dessert.”
Noel chuckled. “If you finish every bite, you can have a cookie and some huckleberry platz. How’s that for a deal?”
Maddie nodded and dug her fork into her bowl, coming up with a piece of beef. “It’s yummy.”
Liz had been on her own for so many years she’d never wondered what living in a community would be like. The thought had never crossed her radar. Even having Mason and his kids in and out hadn’t fazed her today. The bright sunshine streaming in the windows had helped, but so had the realization she could retreat to the little duplex across the yard. No one had made her be sociable. She’d actually wanted to.
The rise and fall of chatter around the table cocooned her. She felt welcomed here. No pressure, just family and friendship.
Mason looked up and caught her gaze, his blue eyes warming.
Time held still for a long moment then Christopher tugged on his arm, and Mason bent to hear his son’s words.
Liz pushed stew around her bowl with a crust of warm, fragrant sourdough bread. Hadn’t eleven years been long enough to get Mason Waterman out of her head? She’d had such a crush on him as a teenager. Nearly all the girls had. He dated frequently. Liz knew he was bad news, but her infatuation had seemed harmless. After all, the other girls were prettier. Sexier. More his type. Compared to them, she was a little country mouse. A farm girl. And even a Christian.
Late
in their senior year, he seemed to notice her for the first time. He’d invited her to the class party, and that night he’d taken from her what she’d been all too willing to give up.
And the news had spread through Galena High like wildfire. The good little Christian girl had fallen. Everyone mocked her, even Mason.
She’d spent years hating him — despising him — only to find he’d changed. Now he was the believer and she the one who had no use for the God who’d failed her.
Maybe she’d failed God first. She’d known Mason was fire, and yet she’d played with matches until she’d gotten burned. She’d done it to herself. Yes, Mason had helped. Yes, God had allowed it, but she had no one to blame but herself.
Liz squirmed in her chair. Accepting the guilt was new and roused feelings of vulnerability. Could everyone see it on her face?
Jo and Claire were each focused on their little ones while the three men discussed the problem of Mason’s frozen waterlines and what it would take to get them thawed once power was restored. Only Avery seemed to notice Liz. The little girl smiled at her with something akin to hero worship.
Forgiving Mason opened up too much. More than Liz was prepared for, really, but the venom that had poisoned her thoughts all these years had dissipated. She couldn’t bring it back any more than she could command vapor.
* * *
“Can I help, Dad? I helped make it.” His son’s blue eyes begged.
“Sure, Christopher. Let me carry the tray, and you can set down the dishes, okay?”
“Okay.” Christopher bit his lip as he lifted a dessert dish of huckleberry platz and set it in front of Liz.
Liz examined the dish then smiled at the boy. “Hey, that looks great! Thank you.”
Mason wasn’t immune to the puff of pride in his son’s chest.
“You’re welcome. See? We put whipped cream on top. And a berry.”
“I see that. The berry on top is the perfect finishing touch.”
Liz hadn’t said that many words to Christopher in one go before. Just the fact she’d taken a moment to praise his son put the berry on top of Mason’s day... and the day had been pretty good, all things considered.
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