UNBROKEN PROMISE

~63~ I Like Him

The festival was winding down, the once lively barn now filled with the quiet sounds of folks cleaning up. Lanterns still hung from the rafters, their golden glow casting long, swaying shadows across the wooden walls. The scent of fresh hay, roasted meats, and cider lingered in the cool night air.

Most folks had already left, hitching up their wagons and heading home after a night of dancing, laughter, and good food. A few remained behind, taking down decorations and packing away the last remnants of the evening.

Oma sat at one of the wooden tables, absentmindedly running her fingers along the rim of an empty cup. Across from her, Mama Becca leaned back slightly, watching her with that knowing look she always had-the one that made it near impossible to keep anything from her.

Megan had left earlier after Jacob insisted she needed to rest. She had fought him on it, of course, rolling her eyes as she muttered something about being pregnant, not fragile. But Jacob wasn't having it, scooping up a drowsy Caleb from a hay bale where he'd dozed off, his little thumb still in his mouth, and carrying him toward the house. Cookie had followed sluggishly behind, his tail wagging lazily as he trotted at their heels.

Now, with just the two of them left, Mama Becca tilted her head slightly, her voice gentle yet firm. "Alright, child. Out with it."

Oma blinked, looking up. "Out with what?"

Mama Becca gave her a look. "Don't play coy with me, girl. You been quiet all night. I can see that mind of yours workin' somethin' over. What is it?"

Oma hesitated, lowering her gaze to her hands. She twisted the fabric of her skirt between her fingers, chewing on her bottom lip as she searched for the right words.

"It's Logan," she admitted softly after a long pause. "He's been actin'... different lately. Distant. Like he's got somethin' heavy on his mind, but he won't talk about it."

Mama Becca hummed thoughtfully, folding her arms over her chest. "And you ain't got no idea why that might be?"

Oma shook her head at first, but then Matthew.

The realization hit her like a sudden gust of wind.

She thought back to the past few days, to the way Logan's jaw had tightened whenever Matthew was around, the way his eyes had darkened when Matthew teased her, the way he'd stormed out of the barn tonight without a word.

Oh.

Mama Becca must've seen the exact moment it dawned on her, because she let out a knowing chuckle. "Mmhmm. Thought so."

Oma's cheeks flushed as she ducked her head, suddenly feeling foolish.

"I... I didn't mean to make him upset," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "Matthew's just friendly, that's all. I never thought..." She trailed off, pressing her lips together.

Mama Becca smirked, shaking her head. "Darlin', I know you didn't mean nothin' by it. And I know Matthew's just a flirt by nature. But Logan?" She leaned forward slightly, her voice lowering like she was about to tell a secret. "That boy don't take too kindly to another man makin' eyes at his wife."

Oma's breath hitched slightly at the word wife.

It wasn't that she'd forgotten how could she? But hearing it now, in the midst of this conversation, made her stomach flutter in a way she didn't quite know how to explain.

Mama Becca grinned at the sight of her blushing, clearly enjoying this. "Now, tell me, child... why you lookin' like a fox caught in a henhouse? Somethin' else on your mind?"

Oma hesitated again, but the warmth in her chest was impossible to ignore. She twisted the hem of her dress between her fingers, her voice barely above a whisper.