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“none of your business” that she wanted to say in her eyes. Instead, after what seemed half of forever, she looked down, then up again with a suddenly coy look in her eyes. “Why? Did you want to take me home?”
    With that, she scurried off, leaving Jacob staring after her.
    Wondering.
    Why did he feel sparks with this woman? The possibilities excited him, but they were tempered with guilt. He intended to find her a date with someone else. Not him. Never him.
    The crunch of tires on gravel drew his attention from the fleeing woman to the mail truck edging to the box. All of a sudden, he remembered the letter in his hand and the girl waiting for it back home. Jacob waved the envelope, catching the mailman’s attention, and hurried the few yards separating them. He replaced the crumpled envelope in his pocket and pulled out another one addressed to Mamm, instead. Then, leaving the family’s mail in the box, he turned and sprinted—almost skating on patches of ice—back to the blacksmith shop.
    Not that he was in any hurry to get back to that hot, dirty job. He didn’t exactly want to face Cousin Daniel, either. But the more distance between him and Becky, the better.
    Whatever had possessed him to touch her?

Chapter 7
    Becky hurried the mile to Annie’s house, holding the sling carrying Emma tight against her side. Her face burned from embarrassment as she scurried down the road, beneath the trees that looked as if they’d been painted by God’s own hand. Ice still encased some of the branches from the winter storm they’d had two days before Jacob’s arrival. But the ice was starting to melt, and the roads were mostly clear.
    Whatever had possessed her to tease Jacob about wanting to bring her home from the singing? He wouldn’t be interested in dating her, even if he didn’t have someone waiting for him back in Pennsylvania. At least by hurrying off, she had saved herself the embarrassment of being rejected outright.
    If only….
    No point in pursuing that thought. She couldn’t change the past, even if she wanted to. And she cherished Emma. She often wished that she’d done things in the right order, however: marriage first, and to a good, solid Amish man. Not running around with Kent in his fancy red car and being taken in by his smooth-talking ways.
    Ach! She set her jaw. She would not think about this.
    Emma squirmed and cried out, and Becky adjusted her hold. She must have squeezed her too tightly. Positive proof that she didn’t need to be thinking these things. Instead, she’d tell Annie about Jacob the minute she got there. Annie would surely be interested in the good-looking addition to their community, and maybe Jacob would take her home from the singing. She wasn’t seeing anyone; hadn’t since Luke had gone and jumped the fence to the Englisch world.
    Word was that Luke had cut his hair and wore Englisch clothes now. And Becky had heard he’d even bought a black pickup truck.
    Emma cried out again, and Becky pulled the material of the sling back far enough to press a finger to her soft cheek. Emma giggled. “You are worth it,” Becky said.
    But still….
    Images of Jacob floated through her mind. If only she’d waited.
    Arriving at Annie’s house, she stomped her feet on the stoop, knocking most of the dirt and ice off her boots, then opened the kitchen door and slipped inside. Annie and her mother were baking heart-shaped cutout cookies, probably to sell in the bakery.
    “Becky, welkum!” Annie set her cookie cutter down on the table and hurried over. Taking Emma, she unwrapped her and pressed kisses on her little cheeks. “How is the wee boppli?”
    Annie’s mamm took Emma next. “I’ve been hoping you’d stop by. I haven’t seen Emma in over a week. My, how she’s grown!” Cuddling the boppli close, she headed over to a carved rocking chair, one her husband had made in his furniture shop.
    “Can I help with the cookies?” Becky took off her coat and hung it on a wall