Brush of Angel's Wings Read Online Free Page A

looked a bit familiar, but she couldn’t place him.
    She loved horses, and if it hadn’t already been so late, she would have spent a few minutes checking out the new gelding. She glanced at the pink horizon and stepped up her pace. By now she and Daed should have the chores nearly finished. Once inside the barn she followed the dim lamplight to the milking area.
    Daed looked up from milking the cow. “Gut mariye.”
    Rachel yawned. “ Mariye ,” she replied, picking up the feed bucket. Usually once she stepped out of bed she was wide awake, but not today. Today she couldn’t keep her eyes open. Since Iva married and they no longer shared a bedroom, she’d spent restless nights listening to the wind brush the tree branches against the window.
    Her shoulders slumped against the support beam and she yawned as she filled the bucket with grain. The wooden door leading to the pasture slid open, and Jordan Engles entered with a cow on a lead. His unexpected appearance stole her words away.
    At least now she knew who owned the gelding in the corral and why the horse looked familiar.
    â€œGood morning,” he said as he tethered the cow to a post. He then reached to take the bucket from her hand. “No need. I fed the horses already.”
    Rachel grasped the handle tighter. “Then I’ll feed the calves.”
    â€œDid that too.” Jordan cleared his throat. “Besides, that isn’t what calves eat.”
    Rachel glanced into the bucket. “Jah.” She instinctively bit her bottom lip as pride roared within her. She was tired. Certainly she knew the difference between what horses and calves ate. Jordan had merely distracted her a moment.
    Daed stood from the milking stool and reached under the cow for the bucket. “Help your mamm get breakfast started.” He glanced at Jordan. “Hungry?”
    â€œOh yes, sir.”
    Her father patted him on the back as though entertained by the appetite of the younger man. “Gut.” He turned to her. “Remind your mamm to set an extra plate.”
    â€œBut . . .” A lump the size of her fist lodged in her throat. She swallowed. “I always help you in the barn.” Ever since James died, she had tended the animals every morning with her father. They’d managed fine without hiring help before, so they certainly didn’t need Jordan—half Englisch , half Amish—attempting to replace her brother. And wouldn’t his presence just make that pain even stronger, a reminder every day that her brother was gone forever? Daed still wore a cloak of sadness even though he pretended to accept the Lord’s will.
    And pretended not to blame her for her brother’s death.
    Jordan reached for the feed bucket in her hand; this time he was successful. “The barn’s damp. You should go inside so you don’t catch a cold.”
    How dare he treat her like a small child or an imbecile. “I’m quite familiar with how drafty this old barn is. After all, I’ve spent plenty of hours working out here, ain’t so?” She would have shown him her calloused hands to prove her labor had Daed not stepped forward.
    Her father held the milk bucket out to her. “Rachel, take this one to the haus . We’ll bring the other one when we kumm .”
    She glanced at Jordan but couldn’t find it in her heart to return his smile. The longer she stared, the wider his smile grew.
    Daed offered her no support. He shooed her toward the door. “We won’t be long.”
    â€œJah ,” she muttered.
    Her brother’s death was hard on her father in so many ways. Immediately after James was buried and the other farmers had to return to their work, she stepped in to help, enjoying working with her father, learning, becoming strong. She loved the livestock, the planting, the harvesting. It didn’t matter that they rarely spoke of anything except the work at hand. It had been