Anna's Gift Read Free

and Plain features, to appreciate her for who she was inside.
    â€œDon’t worry,” Aunt Martha always said. “Any woman works as hard as you do and cooks hasen kucha like yours, she’ll find a man. Might be one not so easy on the eyes out West someplace, or a bucktoothed widower with a dozen sons and no daughters to help with the housework, but someone will have you.”
    Anna knew she wanted a husband, babies and a home of her own, but she wondered if the price might be higher than she wanted to pay. She loved her mother and her sisters, and she loved living in Seven Poplars with all the neighbors and friends who were dear to her. She wasn’t certain she would be willing to leave Delaware to marry, especially with the prospects Aunt Martha suggested would be available to her.
    â€œAnna?”
    â€œYa?” She glanced back at Samuel, feeling even more foolish. While she’d been dream-weaving, Samuel had been saying something to her. “I’m listening,” she said, which wasn’t quite true.
    â€œMy Frieda is dead four years.”
    Anna nodded, not certain where the conversation was going. “She is,” Anna agreed. “Four years.”
    â€œAnd two months,” Samuel added. “Time I…made plans for my family.”
    Suddenly realizing what he might be talking about, she grasped the ladder to keep it from swaying. “I’m sorry you missed Mam.” Her voice seemed too loud in the empty room. “I’m not sure when she’ll be home. A few days. It depends on the weather and how Grossmama is feeling.”
    â€œI…didn’t come…didn’t come to speak…to Hannah.” Each word seemed to come as a struggle.
    She paused, resting her brush on the lip of the paint can, giving him her full attention. If he hadn’t come to talk to Mam, why was he here? Was he sick? Was that why he looked so bad? “Do you need help with something? Charley should be back—”
    â€œ Ne. It’s you, really, I want to talk to.”
    â€œMe?” Her mouth gaped open and she snapped it shut. Her stomach turned over. “Something I can do for you?”
    â€œ Ya. I want…”
    Anna shifted her weight and the wooden step under her left foot creaked. “You want…” she urged, trying to help.
    â€œIf you would…” He took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders.
    He was a big man, so attractive, even with his scraggly hair and oatmeal on his clothes. He filled the doorway, and staring at him, Anna couldn’t stop the fluttering in the pit of her stomach. “Ya?” she coaxed. “You want…”
    â€œI want to court you, Anna,” Samuel blurted out. “I want that you should give me the honor to become my wife.”
    Anna froze, unable to exhale. Surely he hadn’t said what she thought he said. She blinked as black spots raced before her eyes. Abruptly, she felt her hands go numb. Her knees went weak and the ladder began to sway. An instant later, paint, ladder and Anna went flying.

Chapter Two
    â€œA nna!” Samuel rushed forward in an attempt to catch her, and they went down together in a crash of wood, entwined arms and legs, and what seemed like gallons of blue paint. Samuel slid rather than fell to the floor and ended up with Anna in his lap, his arms securely around her middle. Somewhere in the jumble, the paint can hit the wall and bounced, spraying paint everywhere.
    Samuel peered into Anna’s startled face. Her eyes were wide, her mouth gaped, but the only sound she made was a small, “Oh, no.”
    â€œAre you hurt?” he asked, letting go of her when he realized he still held his arms tightly around her. He tried to rise, slipped in the river of paint and sat down hard, a splat rising from around his britches. As they fell a second time, Anna’s arms instinctively went around his neck, bringing her face only inches from his. She