He let his gaze stray to the cabin, hoping for a glimpse of Greta, but she was avoiding him and had been ever since the night he’d arrived home and kissed her. Steele hadn’t been around to force him into it. The honest truth was that he’d done it of his own will and had enjoyed every sweet second. And sure as a gun, if Judd hadn’t come in, he wouldn’t have stopped.

Maybe he’d rushed her that night, pushed for more than she was ready to give. Now he’d gone and made things awkward between them. Sure, she was busy making the last batch of jam from the plums he’d brought her, but she was also hiding.

Pursing his lips to refrain from cussing himself out, he shoved his fork into the hay mound, lifted the brittle pieces, and stuffed more into the net. If only he could find a moment alone with her to apologize and somehow reassure her that she could have all the time she needed. And he’d also reassure her that adding on to the cabin didn’t mean things between them had to change. Not until she was ready.

With the hay nets full in each stall, he set to work mucking the floors, his thoughts alternating between Astrid and Greta, and most often landing on the beautiful woman he’d married but whose heart he’d yet to win.

She’d liked the wedding band, and she hadn’t taken it off once since he’d slipped it on. He’d caught her admiring it a time or two with the awe that had been in her eyes when he’d first given it to her.

At least he thought she’d liked it, the same way he thought she’d liked kissing him. But what if he’d been wrong about both?

“Can’t be wrong,” he muttered. She’d told him she missed him. She’d wanted him to sit with her. She’d touched him of her own free will. Fiery sparks struck to life in his gut just thinking about the way she’d kissed him back.

Astrid called out a greeting, and Wyatt looked up to see Greta striding across the yard, twin pails swinging from her hands.

He stepped into the shadows of the stall. She must be coming to do the milking. His pulse tottered like a colt learning to walk. Should he use the opportunity to talk? Or would doing so make the awkwardness worse?

She’d taken to milking the new cow three times a day. He had to hand it to her. It was a smart move to increase the cow’s milk supply if she hoped to produce butter to sell. It would take some time, but eventually the cow would give her more.