“Jake smiled down at his daughter as he washed his hands, then bent over at the waist to wash his face and neck. “I was working in lots of dirt, sweetheart,” he said, drying off. “I was working on the tractor.” “Your hair is dirty, too.” Jake glanced at his reflection in the mirror, shoving his hands through his thick wavy hair. It needed to be cut. He paused, looking at himself critically, trying to see himself through Miriam’s eyes. Then he wondered why he should care. Miriam Spencer. He drew ...a deep, tired breath, wishing away the jolt he had felt when he had first realized the identity of the very elegant woman standing on the side of the road. Now she sat in his kitchen, chatting to Tilly and Fred, who, even though she hadn’t even bothered sending them so much as a postcard, were delighted to see her. He felt like the prodigal son in the parable. He should be glad she was back, but he just wished he knew why she had come. He doubted it was to settle on the farm to raise wheat and barley.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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