Chapter 165

At the crack of dawn, Elizabeth Stone hurried toward the old house with dark circles under her eyes. She hadn’t slept a wink all night, her mind restless with worry.

"Father, how’s Robert?" she asked, standing in the courtyard, her voice trembling. "I heard he broke his leg?"

John Stone Sr. was washing his face at the well. He had returned late the previous night, his eyes still bloodshot. "It’s broken, but the clinic set it," he said, wringing out the towel. "Pack some food and take the oxcart to town to see him."

Just as Elizabeth was about to sigh in relief, her father-in-law added, "The medical bills will be split between your families. I’ll deduct it from your share at year’s end."

"What?" Elizabeth nearly jumped. "Why should we pay half?"

"If you hadn’t insisted on going into the mountains, would this have happened?" John Sr. shot her a glare. "Now go make breakfast!"

Fuming, Elizabeth stormed back home. What a mess—no gain, only trouble. The thought of losing a strong laborer for months made her sick with regret.

In the Stone family’s smaller courtyard, Emily Johnson woke up sweating.

Blinking groggily, she realized she was completely wrapped in Michael Stone’s arms. His iron-like grip held her close, his warm breath tickling the back of her neck.

Emily froze.

She tried to inch away carefully, but a husky voice murmured behind her, "Sleep a little longer."

"I—I should get up..." she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Michael nuzzled her shoulder, eyes still closed, and tightened his hold. "We were up half the night. Rest a bit more."

Emily’s face burned. Only then did she notice how closely they were pressed together—close enough to feel the rise and fall of his chest.

"You... let go first..."

Finally opening his eyes, Michael gazed at his flustered wife and couldn’t resist kissing her cheek. "I’ll make breakfast. You sleep in."

"No!" Emily scrambled up. "You were exhausted last night. You should rest."

She fumbled into her clothes, not even bothering to comb her hair before darting outside. Even after shutting the door, she could still hear his low chuckle from inside.

Standing in the courtyard, Emily pressed her hands to her flushed cheeks. A sudden realization hit her—this man had probably gotten used to holding her while he slept!

In the kitchen, she distractedly rinsed the rice. The water bubbled noisily in the pot, mirroring the chaos in her mind.