Caleb glanced at Mary, worried. Her tight little smile didn't fool him for an instant. One look at those beautiful brown eyes told him all he needed to know.
She thought his sudden interest was all because of the inheritance.
He had to talk to her alone—to explain, before she slammed the door in his face forever. He gulped the hot coffee without cream or sugar and bolted down the cinnamon bun. When Mary's aunt offered second helpings, he refused. "Mary and I wanted to sit and talk awhile," he said. "With your permission."
Both Viola and Harvey grinned and nodded, and before Mary could protest, they hurried off, leaving them alone in the well-lit kitchen. It was Mary who broke the silence between them.
"So none of this was about your feelings for me. You just needed a wife to get this farm you were telling me about?"
He reached out to touch her hand, but she snatched her arm back as if she'd been burned.
"I do need a wife," he said. "That's true, but I wasn't asking to court you just because of that."
She didn't look like she believed him.
He came around the table and sat next to her. "It's the truth, Mary. When I saw you at the barn raising, I realized there was no other woman for me. Never has been."
"You would have married Susan."
"Ya. But it would have been a mistake. She did me a favor by running off. She wasn't happy in the Plain life, and I couldn't be happy out of it."
"I don't like being your second choice. I'd never know, would I? Whether you picked me to get the farm or because you really wanted me to be your wife."
"To get the farm from my grandfather, I do need a wife. But my feelings for you have nothing to do with the farm."
"Why didn't you tell me? Were you going to hide the truth until I'd agreed to be courted? Or longer than that?"
Her cheeks were rosy red, and her eyes caught the light of the oil lamp. Dear God, if I can just make this woman my wife, he thought, I'll never ask for anything again. He took her hand. It was as cool as her gaze. "I would have told you."
"Who else have you asked to be your wife? How many others?"
"No one but Susan, and she married someone else."
"So no girl here would agree to let you court her?"
"Lots would."
"Oh? Like who?"
He thought for a second. "Miriam Yoder, maybe."
"No way. She's already got two boys after her."
"Her sister Anna, then. She's a good cook."
Mary nodded, gazing into his eyes. "Anna? Maybe. Who else?"
"Dorcas for certain. But I didn't ask any of them. I only want you." He leaned close and kissed her soft mouth.