Poppy regarded him for a moment, her gaze searching his. “I think that can be arranged.”
*****
Jacob stood outside the modest structure of the Clover Creek schoolhouse, his gaze lingering on the wooden doorway.The windows were dark now, the laughter and chatter of children long since faded into the quiet dusk.
“Building a dairy farm won’t be an easy task,” Charles had warned him earlier, “It’s not just the land that’s tough, but winning over the folk here. We’re a close-knit bunch.”
Jacob’s thoughts turned to Poppy. In her presence, he sensed a kinship, but also the complexities of intertwining his life with someone else’s.
“Mr. Alexander?”
The voice startled him from his reverie, and he turned to see Margaret Prewitt approaching. “Hope you don’t mind me saying, but you’ve got that look about you. The same one my husband had when he first set eyes on this place.”
“Is that so?” Jacob replied, attempting a smile.
“Definitely.” Margaret nodded solemnly. “But remember, the land here can either break you or make you. It all depends on how much you’re willing to fight for what you want.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Prewitt,” he said. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
And somewhere within him, nestled between trepidation and yearning, lay the silent prayer that Poppy Smith might just be exactly what he needed in life.
