Katie Rose winced at the sternness in his tone. Maybe with all his fancy education Zane Carson wasn’t as smart as she had given him credit for.
“You are a guest here, Zane Carson. You may not order me about like a new puppy.”
“And I won’t just as soon as you’re not as weak as a newborn kitten.” His sure strides carried him across the yard in half the time it would have taken her. In the blink of an eye he put his hands on her mother’s waist and swung her to the ground.
Ruth frowned. “I am capable of liftin’ myself down from a buggy.”
“I’m sure you are, Ruth, but why expend the energy for something I can do for you when you need all the strength you have for healing?”
She was sure her mamm would harrumph and march stiff-legged toward the house, but there was something in Zane Carson’s manner that seemed to calm her mother.
He offered Mamm his arm and linked them together before walking her toward the porch. When they got close, Katie Rose took her other elbow and together they escorted her into the house.
Katie Rose contemplated the man who’d come to visit. He was gruff and soft at the same time. He had a way with her mother, somehow making her see reason where no one else had, all the while giving her the space she needed to remain self-sufficient. Suddenly Katie Rose felt as if she had underestimated the fancy reporter from Chicago.
Or maybe she hadn’t, and that was the problem.
It took some talking, but Zane finally persuaded Ruth to lie down for a nap. Only the threat that she’d be back in the hospital before sunset was enough to get her upstairs and in bed. Stubborn woman only did it so she could oversee supper that night.
She reminded him so very much of his own mother. Not in looks or temperament but in spirit. Thalia Carson had been that same kind of woman—sufficient, brave, positive. Bold in a womanly manner that made men do her bidding, then wonder what had happened to make them so readily comply.
He smiled to himself and made his way back downstairs. Katie Rose could see her safely in bed while he finished the porch.
The sun was bright when he pushed through the screen door. A beautiful day as he had ever seen. How long had it been since he’d enjoyed a Sunday afternoon? How long had it been since he’d enjoyed any afternoon? Maybe Monica was right. Maybe he did work too much. But he didn’t know how else to be. Once he started a project he had to see it through to the end.
He retrieved the hammer and started back to work. Just a couple more good whacks and that should do it.
Katie Rose stormed out of the house, green eyes glaring. For the peace-loving Amish, she looked downright murderous. “I believe I mentioned that it is the Lord’s Day.”
“That you did.” Whack.
“And the Amish don’t work on the Lord’s Day.”
“I’m not Amish.” Whack.
“But you’re stayin’ with us now. Tryin’ on our lifestyle so you can write about it in your magazine.” She plucked the hammer from his grasp mid-swing. “You’ll do well to remember that.”
It didn’t matter anyway. He was finished, but something in him wasn’t going to let the matter go easily. Zane straightened to his full height, once again dusting himself off before looking at her. He was considered tall by many, but the willowy woman challenging him was only a few inches shorter.