Caleb lifted a keg of nails off the lumber wagon and passed it to the next man in line. It was a cool morning, but he was already sweating from the exertion of unloading the building supplies. He didn't mind. They'd be raising a barn for Harvey and Viola today to replace the one that had been struck by lightning a month ago. It was the kind of work Caleb liked best—getting his hands dirty. Someday soon, he hoped to be building his own barn.
His cousin strolled around the end of the wagon, and Caleb called out to him. "Menno, stop filling your face and give us a hand."
Menno grinned and stuffed the rest of a donut in his mouth. "I'm hungry. Didn't have time for a proper breakfast."
Caleb laughed. Menno's mother was a good cook—so good that he was afraid he'd be as round as his cousin if he stayed with them much longer. This morning, she'd fried up pork chops and sausage links to go with a mound of eggs, hash browns, oatmeal, stewed apples and hot biscuits. No one could say they went away hungry from Aunt Elizabeth's table.
He reached for another keg of nails. Caleb had come to Delaware nine months ago when his fiancée, Susan, had dumped him and married Joe Miller. The change had been good for him. Working beside Menno and his Uncle Ebon had filled the days until he'd gotten past the hurt and shock of having his betrothed choose another man two months before their wedding.
He was over Susan now, even able to admit that she hadn't been the right choice for him. But the sting of rejection had made him wary of getting involved with any of the local girls. He'd sort of drifted along, throwing himself into the work on Uncle Ebon's farm, letting the months slip by. He might have gone on like that if it hadn't been for the letter from his grandfather.
That had jolted him out of his complacency. Now, every day held an urgency. He'd have to make a big decision or else watch all his dreams slip through his fingers.
"Donut?" Dorcas offered Caleb a broken-toothed smile. "Hot from the oven."
"Ne." He shook his head. "Thanks, but what I need is coffee."
"Mary's bringing some." She pointed to a tall, slender woman crossing the yard carrying a coffeepot.
Caleb blinked as his breath caught in his throat. She was a vision in a modest lavender dress, white apron and slender bare feet. Honey-brown hair peeped out from beneath her starched white kapp and a sprinkling of freckles dusted her nose and cheekbones.
She's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen....
In an instant, his heart and imagination ran away from him, and he pictured himself at his grandfather's table, seated beside this Mary.
Maybe she's already spoken for, he thought, trying not to let his hopes get too high. Slow down, Caleb, these things take time.
Only time was something Caleb didn't have.