Tessa shoved the thought from her mind and ran outside to catch tools as he lowered them. With his family away, this man’s life was no vacation. Staying on the farm meant earning her keep. Her shoulders and knees ached from scrubbing, but she was ready to tackle the next task. She never relished sweating so much as when they worked together.

Dodging the ladder he slung over one shoulder, she toted the toolbox to the barn. The earth was banked up to the second floor on the back side, allowing a ground-level entrance on both floors. “Where do you keep the buggy?”

He nodded toward an outbuilding. “The old chicken house. Turned it into a buggy shed after Levi and I built a new one.”

The shed was open on one side, and she spied the buggy with its orange, triangular reflector parked next to an open-topped wagon.

He tucked the ladder just inside the barn door and led the way into another outbuilding.

Two different power saws and several machine tools she couldn’t identify flanked a red, metal chest. A workbench twice the length of her father’s spanned the entire back wall. The space was as neatly organized as Nora’s pantry and almost as clean. It smelled of sawdust and just a hint of oil, and given the opportunity, she would absolutely make out on that workbench.

He slid the toolbox onto a shelf. “I built your gazebo right here.” He ran a hand over the wood surface and brushed a few shavings to the floor. “Used to be the wash house, but when we installed the washing machine, I expanded it into a shop. Most everything on this farm was once something else, I suppose. All these tools run on compressed air like the mixer.”

His life was a far more curious mix of old and new than she ever imagined. “A washing machine?”

He flashed a smile. “The best gift I ever gave my mother. It’s in the basement. I’ve got it running on the same diesel engine that powers the pump.”

Not only a carpenter, he was a mechanic and an engineer as well. Dreamy. If she jumped onto the workbench, would he get the hint? “But no clothes dryer?”

He shook his head. “Rain or shine, clothes dry on the line.”

She buried her nose in his shoulder. “They smell better that way.”

“Come. I want to show you something.”

Taking his hand, she followed him from the shop into the second-floor entrance to the barn. Darkness suffused with the scents of animals and damp earth enveloped her.

“The horse and livestock are on the ground floor.” He unlatched a tall door on the far wall. “But back here…” He beckoned.

She followed him into an immense room where bales of sweet-smelling hay were stacked floor to ceiling, two stories high. “The hayloft!” She inhaled deeply and sneezed.