He cupped his hands around his mouth. “I’ll be right here!”

This man… For him, she designed a gazebo and dove headfirst into frigid waters. She baked cobbler and broke the speed limit, and eventually, she drove her van into a creek. Now, he wanted her to fly. She dug her fingers into the braided cord, wrapped her other leg around the rope, and hooked her feet at the ankles. For this man…anything. Closing her eyes, she jumped.

The earth dropped out from under her, and she let loose a sound she didn’t know her body could make. Baled hay spun in dizzying loops as she pirouetted in space like a circus performer. She arced up high, and her belly leapt into her chest with a zinging whirl.

“Wait until you’re over the middle and then let go,” he shouted.

She froze. What if a pitchfork was hidden in the hay? What if she landed on his head? She gripped the rope and squeezed her legs tighter. “Let go?”

“Trust me!”

She closed her eyes. With my life. Then she lifted her lids and let go.

Her stomach dropped, and her arms helicoptered in frantic circles. In seconds, she landed with a jarring thud just a few feet from Jonas. Chest heaving, she lay in a daze as the rope gyrated overhead.

He rolled to her side. “How was it?”

“Glorious!” She grabbed a handful of hay. “And terrifying!” Like a ninja, she sprang and stuffed it down his shirt.

His eyes flew wide, and he laughed, spluttering straw.

On hands and knees, she knelt over him. “Dude, for someone who had, like, six brothers, you’re so easy.”

“Not that easy.” In an instant, he flung her over one shoulder and dumped her on her backside. “And I had three brothers. Samuel…”—he shoveled an armload of hay onto her belly—“Micah…” Another handful rained down. “And Hannes.” The final pile cascaded over her face.

Ignoring her bruises, she tensed, ready to strike. “And I was an only child.” With a leap, she bowled into him, knocking him flat. “I’m skinny, but I’m wiry.” As if she weighed no more than a sack of flour, he tossed her onto her back again and held both arms over her head with one hand.

“You’re beautiful.”

Hay the color of his hair stuck out from his head in ten different directions. His cheeks were flushed, and his eyes blazed. He had her in a vulnerable position—supine and breathless, soft underbelly exposed, but she wasn’t afraid. The feeling was a warm weight in her gut. Like that mound of hay, Jonas was a safe place to land.

Something hard and scratchy jabbed her lower back. She squirmed. “I think I flattened your hat.”

He freed her hands. Sliding one arm under her waist, he lifted her and retrieved the mangled chapeau. He shrugged one shoulder. “I’ll get a new one.”