“I’m a strong woman. And it takes a lot to wear me out.”

He studied her face, making her suddenly self-conscious. She hadn’t taken care with her appearance this morning, hadn’t had the time between tending to Astrid and trying to get breakfast for the men.

“I’m sorry.” She smoothed back a flyaway strand. “I still need to plait it.”

He lifted her hand away. “You don’t need to. Your hair is pretty enough any way you wear it.”

Pretty? Her heart pattered an extra beat.

At Judd clearing his throat behind them, embarrassment washed across Wyatt’s face. He took several rapid steps away from her, bumping into the table and tipping one of the benches.

Judd reached out to catch the bench, righting it. He nodded at Greta, then leveled a look at Wyatt, one laced with humor.

Judd wasn’t much for talking, but he, like Wyatt, had a kindness about him that put her at ease. He worked hard alongside Wyatt but seemed fond of taking breaks, especially those that involved puttering around in his garden.

“Heard Astrid coughing.” Judd lowered himself to the bench and leaned his elbows on the table.

“It’s the consumption.” Greta handed a plate to Wyatt and then dished up Judd’s breakfast. “A little extra rest today, and she’ll be fine.” At least Greta hoped so.

After giving Judd his food, she poured the men each a cup of coffee and then returned to Astrid’s bedside with a spoonful of sugar. She sweetened the tea and made the little girl drink several sips. A few minutes later, when Astrid was dozing, Greta scurried back into the other room to the stove. Before the men could ask, she’d retrieved the pan and was dishing them up more breakfast.

“Reckon I can take you huckleberry picking next week.” Wyatt nodded his thanks and dug his spoon into the steaming mound.

“I’m sure Astrid will feel better then.”

“Go on today.” Judd swallowed a bite of potatoes. “And I’ll stay.”

“You’ll stay?” Wyatt’s brows rose.

“That’s right. I’ll stay with the child so you can go get the berries.”

“I don’t want to inconvenience anyone.” Greta returned to the stove and retrieved the coffeepot. “We can go another time.”

“They’re ripe now.” Judd dangled his spoon above his plate. “Gotta get ’em now, or the critters’ll chaw up every last one.”

“It’s kind of you to offer, but I couldn’t impose.”

“Best thing for her is the sun and the air,” Judd said quietly but firmly. “Soon as she wakes, I’ll carry her on outside.”

Greta hesitated.

“Planning to dry the peas today,” Judd added. “Wouldn’t hurt her none to lend me a hand.”