The Christmas Cradle by Charlotte Hubbard Read Free Book Online

was a crack shot when they went deer hunting, too.
    Josiah climbed down to the barn floor and filled a bucket with water. When he’d topped off the troughs for Ben’s animals and fed them, he tended Dolly. Then he stood before Ben, figuring he’d better clarify his living arrangements. “If you figure me for a bad apple—too irresponsible—I can be on the road as soon as I throw my clothes in my duffel.”
    Ben’s face fell like a sad old hound dog’s. “And break Lena’s heart?” he asked quietly. “I’m hopin’ it won’t come to that, son. But that’s your choice, too.”
    Josiah let out an exasperated sigh. “I’ve broken Lena’s heart countless times—not because I’ve done her wrong but because she gets upset at every little thing,” he protested. “Now that you folks have taken her in, maybe I should make myself scarce. We’ll get on everybody’s nerves if I hang around haggling about where I should cook. I’ve made a perfectly fine living in Bloomfield, after all.”
    Ben held Josiah’s gaze for a few moments beyond his comfort zone. “I suppose you’ll leave after Lena goes to bed, without sayin’ anything to her.”
    â€œI’ll be sparing everybody one of her crying jags.”
    â€œ Jah , and it’ll save ya the trouble of ownin’ up to your actions, ain’t so?” Ben fired back. “It’ll leave the rest of us to clean up your mess. I suspect you’ve had a lot of practice at that.”
    â€œAt least I’m gut at something ,” Josiah retorted.
    He’d crossed the line with that remark, but he’d heard enough of Ben’s opinions. He did have a successful catering business in Bloomfield, and Savilla would assist him without giving him any flack. He could live a simple life again, free from Lena’s yammering about the baby, and he wouldn’t have to sign papers for Miriam or wonder if Hiram Knepp had lured him into a shady deal.
    â€œI believe you’re probably gut at a lot of things,” Ben said after a few more tense moments. “If you’re gone in the morning, I won’t be surprised—but I hope you’ll stick around and prove yourself, Josiah. We need young fellas with spunk and fresh ideas in Willow Ridge.”
    Josiah left the barn. His breath blew around his face in wisps as he strode down the road that ran between the Hooley place and the Sweet Seasons. He passed Zook’s Market, a quilt shop, a small clinic, a cabinetry shop, and a dairy. As he followed the curve in the road, he saw a sign pointing toward an auction barn. He eventually walked past a herd of wooly sheep and a huge barn that housed the Simple Gifts shop, next door to the Mill at Willow Ridge, a gristmill with a waterwheel, situated on the river.
    So many thriving businesses. Surely a supper shift at Miriam’s café would be more successful than the catering he did by grilling at gatherings—and a lot easier than hauling his cookers around, too, especially in the winter. He passed homes with pale smoke rising from their chimneys, their windows aglow with lantern light. No one’s house looked as new as the ones in Higher Ground, yet Josiah sensed that the folks in Willow Ridge had everything they needed. They were happy here.
    Why not talk to Miriam about a partnership? Josiah wondered as he returned to where he’d started walking half an hour earlier. The lamp was burning in Rebecca’s apartment above Ben’s smithy. If he knocked now, he could ask her about the café’s business before her lights went out.
    But then the apartment went dark.
    Josiah sighed. He should probably move on. Cooking at the Sweet Seasons would mean getting involved with the Hooleys and the Brennemans, and he was used to being his own man. A lone wolf didn’t run well with a pack.
    He saw that Ben and Miriam’s house was