A Beau For Katie. Emma Miller
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that, he loved him. It was a pity when a man couldn’t be master in his own house. Freeman was used to having his grandmother living in the grossmama haus. She’d been part of the household even before his parents died, and the two of them got along as easily as chicken and dumplings. But Uncle Jehu had only come to live with him the previous summer and didn’t always seem to understand that Freeman liked to do things his own way. Caring for his uncle was his responsibility, and he was glad to do it, but he didn’t want to have decisions made for him as if he were still a child.
“Fine,” Freeman muttered, feeling frustrated that he couldn’t even get up to greet Sara and the housekeeper properly. It was demeaning to be laid out in a bed like this. But after a complication the previous week, his surgeon had been adamant. Freeman needed to keep his leg elevated at all times for another three days. “Who is this housekeeper? Do I know her?”
“She’s from Apple Valley church district, but the two of you have probably crossed paths somewhere.”
“You can at least tell me her name if you’re forcing me to have her in my house.”
His uncle looked up, sightless brown eyes calm and peaceful. “Name’s Katie. Katie Byler.”
“Katie Byler!” Freeman repeated. “Absolutely not.” He flinched as he spoke and pain shot up his leg. He groaned, reaching down to steady his casted leg. “Not Katie Byler, Uncle Jehu. Anyone but Katie Byler.” He frowned. “She’s the bossiest woman I ever met.”
His uncle chuckled. “I thought you said your mudder was the bossiest woman you ever met. Ya, I distinctly remember you saying that.” He rose, tucked his loop of string into his trousers’ pocket and made his way to the door. He chuckled again. “And maybe my sister was. But I never saw that it did your father any harm.”
“Please, Uncle Jehu,” Freeman groaned. “Get someone else. Anybody else.”
“Too late,” his uncle proclaimed. He pushed open the door and grinned. “Sara, Katie. Come on in. Freeman and I’ve been waiting for you.”
* * *
Katie followed Sara into the Kemp house, pausing just inside the doorway to allow her vision to adjust to the interior after the bright July sunshine.
“Here’s Katie,” Sara announced, “just as I promised, Jehu. She’ll lend a hand with the housework until he’s back on his feet.” She motioned Katie to approach the bed. “I think you two already know each other.”
“Ya,” Freeman admitted gruffly. “We do.”
“We’re so glad you could come to help out,” his uncle said. “As you can see by this mess, you haven’t come a day too early.”
Katie removed her black bonnet, straightened her spine, and took in a deep breath. The girls were right about one thing; Freeman Kemp wasn’t hard on the eyes. Even lying flat in a bed, one leg encased in an uncomfortable-looking cast, he was still a striking figure of a man. The indoor pallor and the pain lines at the corners of his mouth couldn’t hide the clean lines of his masculine jaw, his white, even teeth, or his straight, well-formed nose and forehead. His wavy brown hair badly needed a haircut, and he had at least a week’s growth of dark beard, but the sleeveless cotton undershirt revealed a tanned neck, and broad, muscular shoulders and arms.
Freeman’s compelling gaze met hers. His eyes were brown, not the walnut shade of Sara’s but a golden brown, almost amber, with darker swirls of color, and they were framed in lashes far too long for a man.
Had he caught her staring at him? Unnerved, she recovered her composure and concealed her embarrassment with a solicitous smile. “Good morning, Freeman,” she uttered in a hushed tone.
Puzzlement flickered behind Sara’s inquisitive eyes, and then her apple cheeks crinkled in a sign of amused understanding. She moved closer to the bed, blocking Katie’s view of Freeman’s face and his of hers and began to pepper him with questions about his impending recovery.
Rescued, Katie turned away to inspect the kitchen that would be her domain for the next two weeks. She’d never been inside the house before, just the mill, but from the outside, she’d thought it was beautiful. Now, standing in the spacious kitchen, she liked it even more. It was clear to her that this house had been home to many generations, and someone, probably a sensible woman, had carefully planned out the space. Modern gas appliances stood side by side with tidy built-in cabinets and a deep soapstone sink. There was a large farm table in the center of the room with benches on two sides, and Windsor chairs at either end. The kitchen had big windows that let in the light and a lovely old German open-shelved cupboard. The only thing that looked out of place was the bed containing the frowning Freeman Kemp.
“You must be in a lot of pain,” Sara remarked, gently patting Freeman’s cast.
“Ne. Nothing to speak of.”
“He is,” Jehu contradicted. “Just too stubborn to admit to it. He’ll accept none of the pain pills the doctor prescribed.”
Freeman’s eyes narrowed. “They gave them to me at the hospital. I couldn’t think straight.”
Katie nodded. “You’re wise to tough it out if you can. Too many people start taking those things and then find that they can’t do without them. Rest and proper food for an invalid will do you the most good.”
Freeman glanced away, as if feeling uncomfortable at being the center of attention. “I’m not an invalid.”
Katie sighed, wondering if a broken femur had been the man’s only injury or if he’d taken a blow to the head. If lying on your back, leg encased in a cast propped on a quilt, didn’t make you an invalid, she didn’t know what did. But Freeman, as she recalled, had a stubborn nature. She’d certainly seen it at the King wedding.
For an eligible bachelor who owned a house, a mill and two hundred acres of prime land to remain single into his midthirties was almost unheard of among the Amish. Add to that Freeman’s rugged good looks and good standing with his bishop and his church community. It made him the catch of the county, several counties for that matter. They could have him. She was a rational person, not a giggling teenager who could be swept off her feet by a pretty face. Freeman liked his own way too much to suit her. Working in his house for two whole weeks wasn’t going to be easy, but he or his good looks certainly didn’t intimidate her. She’d told Sara she’d take the job and she was a woman of her word.
“I agree. Rest is what he needs.” Ivy Kemp came into the house, letting the terrier out the door as she entered. “But he’s always been headstrong. Thinking he could tend to that injury to the bull’s leg by himself was what got him into trouble in the first place. And not following doctor’s orders to stay in bed was what sent him back to the hospital a second time.”
“Could you not talk about me as though I’m not here?” Freeman pushed himself up on his elbows. “Two weeks, not a day more, and I’ll be on my feet again.”
“More like four weeks, according to his doctors,” Jehu corrected.
Katie noticed that the blind man had settled himself into a rocker not far from Freeman’s bed, removed a string from his pants’ pocket, and was absently twisting the string into shapes. She didn’t know Jehu well but she’d seen how easily he’d moved around the kitchen and how he turned his face toward each speaker, following the conversation much as a sighted person might. She found him instantly likable.
“Do you know this game?” Jehu asked in Katie’s general direction. “Cat’s cradle?”
“She doesn’t want to play your—”
“I do know it,” Katie exclaimed, cutting Freeman off. “I played it all the time with my father when I was small. I love it.”
“Do you know this one?” Jehu grinned, made several quick movements and then held up a new string pattern.
Katie grinned. “That’s a cat’s eye.”
“Easy