A Picture of Love

by Beth Wiseman

  * * *

  Amos waited a few minutes then put down the hammer, sat on the stool, and held his head in his hands. Naomi’s presence was starting to unravel him, and now he’d be alone with her tonight. Maybe he should leave before the week was up.

  “Wie bischt, Amos.”

  He spun around. “Esther. Everything okay?”

  “Ya, ya.” She walked his way and stopped directly in front of him, fully dressed in her cape and bonnet. “Lizzie and I will be going to town for a while. I just wanted to let you know.”

  Esther and Lizzie weren’t in the habit of sharing their itineraries with him.

  “Do you need anything while we’re out?” Esther fumbled with the straps of her small black purse.

  “Nee, I don’t think so, but danki for asking.”

  Esther cleared her throat. “It’s not too late, you know.” She waited until Amos locked eyes with her.

  “Not too late for what?”

  Esther sighed. “Lizzie and I are two silly old women. We know that.” She paused. “And we meddle sometimes when we shouldn’t. But it’s always with the best of intentions. And I don’t think I can let you leave without telling you that . . . it’s not too late.” She winked at him. “Now, I’m off to the market.”

  She was gone before Amos could respond, which was probably a good thing since he had no idea what to say.

  * * *

  Naomi didn’t feel like herself, and she’d tried all day to figure out what exactly was bothering her. Was it the delayed anger about Thomas being with another woman, or something—or someone—else?

  She’d slipped out of the house before the noon meal and left Amos a note that his dinner was keeping warm in the oven. Then she’d gone to the lumberyard at a time when she knew Thomas would be eating out somewhere. She left a note with the woman at the front desk, telling Thomas she couldn’t meet for supper this evening. She didn’t give an excuse, just said she’d see him the next night.

  Now her stomach was churning almost as much as the confusing thoughts swirling around in her mind.

  By suppertime her nerves still hadn’t settled, nor had she regained her appetite. There was something she needed to know. Hopefully after she had her answer she could settle down.

  She did her best to engage in polite conversation at supper, but her thoughts remained elsewhere. After the meal, Amos gathered up the painting supplies from the basement. He’d barely loaded everything in the wagon on the porch when Esther smiled.

  “He’s got two easels,” Lizzie said as she pressed her palms together and grinned.

  Naomi scurried to clear the dishes, pretending to ignore Lizzie’s comment.

  “Hmm . . .” Esther chimed in.

  Naomi faced the women with her hands on her hips. “I like to paint. Amos likes to paint.”

  Esther stood, and Lizzie practically jumped up. “Go take advantage of all the daylight you can,” Esther said as she stacked dishes on the table. “Lizzie and I can finish up in here.”

  “I always used to clean up, and I’ve already been shirking mei responsibilities by letting Lizzie do the dishes so I could go to supper with Thomas.”

  “Mei maedel, we’ve got this.” Esther put a hand on Naomi’s arm. “He’s leaving in a week, so go enjoy having a painting partner.”

  Naomi opened her mouth to argue, but decided it wasn’t worth it. Lizzie and Esther would probably pound her with questions if she stayed.

  “Ya, okay.” She was anxious to get to the pond, and she didn’t feel like putting up more of a fight.

  By the time she reached him, Amos had everything set up.

  “I brought the painting you’d been working on and a new canvas.” He handed her a palette. “I didn’t know if you wanted to keep working on the other one or . . .” He paused, any emotion he might be feeling suppressed behind a stoic expression. “Or start over.”

  Silence lengthened between them until it became awkward.

  “I’d like to start over.” Naomi picked up the blank canvas and positioned it on the empty easel.

  “Sometimes a fresh start is the best way to move forward.”

  She couldn’t read his expression, but his eyes gave him away. They were filled with a longing Naomi understood. As his mouth became the focus of her attention, she forced herself to look away.

  “And sometimes fixing what is broken is worth it.” He nodded to her partially completed painting in the wagon, then at her blank canvas, which suddenly seemed to represent her life, her entire future.

  “I guess you have to decide.” His voice was level and without emotion, but his eyes beckoned her in a way that caused a tingling in the pit of her stomach.

  Naomi wanted to look away, to pull her gaze from the temptation he posed. She’d worn a heavy coat this evening, and the air was still. The shivers down her spine couldn’t be blamed on the weather. As he moved closer to her, she dropped the paint palette but barely noticed as his steady gaze bore into her.

  She had her answer—there was a decision on the table, after all. Her knees trembled and her heart pounded as if it would burst from her chest.

  “Tell me to stop,” Amos said softly, his eyes never leaving hers as his broad shoulders blocked the setting sun.

  She’d never kissed anyone besides Thomas, nor had she ever wanted to.

  Until now.

  Eighteen

  “Tell me to stop,” Amos whispered again as he moved closer. He’d never stepped into another man’s territory, but he had to know if Naomi felt what seemed to have snuck up on both of them.

  Her full lips parted, but she was silent, her eyes searching his as he tenderly cupped her cheek in one hand.

  “Last chance,” he breathed as his mouth grew closer to hers.

  She stood on her toes and her lips brushed against his like a whisper of what was to come. Her kiss was slow, soft, and torturous, but Amos did his best to let her control what was sending his stomach into a wild swirl.

  Finally, he gave in and pulled her to him kissing her with all the passion he’d kept bottled up since he first saw her. She responded with the same affection and intensity, and they fell in sync in a way that was natural, yet new at the same time.

  “What am I doing?” she asked after she eased away, her eyes fearful and blinking as if she might cry. “I’m engaged.”

  “Are you?” He tried to sound as sensitive as he could, but Naomi’s eyes only widened with fear. Amos wasn’t a home-wrecker, but he also wasn’t the kind of man who would have left the woman he loved. Esther and Lizzie seemed sure Thomas would leave Naomi again. Amos had no way of knowing. Maybe he was trying to justify what he’d just done.

  Naomi put a hand to her forehead as she began to pace. “Ya, of course I am.”

  Amos flinched as her words kicked him in the gut. He shouldn’t have expected a kiss to change her status, but . . . He blew out a breath of frustration.

  “You initiated the kiss.”

  She stopped pacing and turned to face off with him, only a couple feet away. As blood siphoned from her face, she pointed a finger at him. “You knew exactly what you were doing, coming at me with that”—she wagged her finger at him—“that sensual voice.”

  Amos rubbed his chin, grinning, but when her nostrils started to flair, he pressed his lips together. “Who are you mad at? Me or yourself?”

  “Both!” she spat as tears welled in the corners of her eyes.

  “Naomi . . .” He inched closer to her as she covered her face with her hands. Gingerly, he put a hand on the small of her back and eased her into his arms until her head was buried in his chest. “Please don’t cry. I think we have both been thinking about that kiss for a while, and I’m sorry I blamed it on you. This is mei fault, so don’t shoulder any guilt.”

  “Nee, it’s mei fault.” She pulled out of the hug, sniffling. “I’m just so confused.”

  He waited, but when she didn’t elaborate, he said, “I guess I can understand that. I’m probably not helping
your situation with Thomas.” His chest tightened. “Did you kiss me to get even with him for being with another woman?”

  She took a final swipe at her eyes and chewed her bottom lip for a few seconds. “I don’t know.”

  It was probably an honest answer, but it stung. “Ach, well, I’m glad I could help you.” He heard the heavy dose of sarcasm in his voice, but he hadn’t expected such a forthcoming—and probably honest—response.

  A glazed look of despair spread across her beautiful face. “I’m sorry.” She took off in a sprint to the house.

  Amos called after her, but she only ran faster. He went to his painting and stared at it for several seconds, then he picked up his palette, dipped his brush in black, and drew an X across the canvas.

  * * *

  Naomi was breathless when she reached the house, but she stood on the porch and tried to gather herself before she went in. It wasn’t even close to dark, and even though she didn’t see Lizzie or Esther through the window, she doubted they were in their bedrooms yet. Although Esther had been retiring earlier and earlier. Lizzie might be in her room with her nose in a romance novel. Naomi had found three of them beneath Lizzie’s mattress when she’d changed the sheets. Naomi was sure they all had a happily-ever-after ending, something she was starting to think she’d never have.

  She wished Amos had never stayed here. Eventually, she would have to shed the anger that she’d unknowingly bottled up against Thomas. Now that the bottle was uncorked, she didn’t know what to do with her emotions. Had she kissed Amos only to get back at Thomas?

  She’d been so caught up in her thoughts that she didn’t hear Amos pulling the wagon and toting the easels until he was nearing the house. She folded her hands in front of her, raised her chin, and waited.

  He tucked the easels under his arm, lifted the wagon onto the porch, and took out the painting supplies that he’d already bagged up, all but the canvases. He moved past her and into the house without even glancing at her. When she saw the X across his painting, she gasped. He’d worked every day on that painting.

  Naomi was on his heels as he clicked the flashlight on and started down the basement stairs carrying the bag of supplies in his other hand with the easels still tucked under his arm.

  “Why did you do that? Why did you draw an X across your painting?” She stayed close behind him, following the beams from the flashlight. “It’s beautiful, and you shouldn’t have done that!”

  “Sometimes beautiful things don’t turn out the way you planned.” He paused. “I’ll start over when I get home.”

  Naomi’s emotions were spiraling. After he wound his way around some stacked chairs, he set the bag on an old desk and leaned the easels against the wall. He spun around and shone the flashlight in her face, enough that she had to put a hand up to block the light.

  “Can you please get that thing out of mei face?” She was yelling, which wasn’t in her nature.

  He lowered the light and shone it on the concrete floor between them. Shaking, Naomi pulled her coat snug around her and hugged herself.

  “It hurts me that you did that to your painting.”

  Amos shrugged. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

  Naomi was fuming and trembling and sure he was referring to her as much as the painting. “Fine.” She put her hands on her hips. “I guess I thought maybe it was a big deal.”

  He lunged forward, keeping the flashlight pointed at the floor. “What do you want me to say, Naomi? What is it you want to hear?” He scratched his head, glaring at her. “Because I’m having a hard time figuring you out.”

  She gritted her teeth. “I’m just telling you how disappointed I am that you ruined your painting!” Her voice had risen again.

  “Really? This is about mei painting?” His voice deepened, and in the darkness of the basement, his broad shoulders, height, and overall presence should have frightened her, but she knew without a doubt that Amos would never hurt her. Except maybe with his words, which were cutting into her heart, and she couldn’t seem to stop shaking.

  He was close enough to kiss her again, but she couldn’t let that happen, even though every inch of her longed to be back in his arms. She took a step backward. “Ya, it’s about the painting,” she finally said as her bottom lip trembled.

  “Nee, it’s not.” He looked at the ceiling, sighed, and then his eyes homed in on her lips, reminding her of the emotion attached to their kiss. “You’re having doubts about Thomas. I understand that. But don’t you think I felt what was inside of you through that kiss?” He gently pounded a fist against his chest. “It wasn’t just a revenge kiss, and you should at least be able to admit that.”

  Naomi pressed her lips together and was quiet, swallowing the growing knot in her throat as she held her position, arms folded in front of her, shaking.

  “I have fallen for you.” He chuckled nervously. “And believe me, no one is more surprised than me. I didn’t think I’d ever care about anyone like this again. I’m admitting how I feel, honestly, and maybe you could do the same.”

  But she couldn’t. Admitting she’d fallen for him would only make things more complicated than they were. She’d known Thomas for years. He’d made a mistake, but he’d returned home to make things right. But she’d hurt Amos, and she didn’t want him leaving with a hole in his heart. He’d worked as hard as she had to get out of the dark place they’d both been hiding. God had given her a second chance with Thomas. She didn’t want Amos to lose hope that he would find that same kind of happiness again. Naomi had no choice but to ignore her feelings for Amos and work through her anger about what Thomas had done and put her trust in him again.

  “I love Thomas,” she said softly. “But you will find someone again, Amos, someone you will love as much as you loved Sarah.” She lowered her gaze. “It just can’t be me.”

  He edged closer, causing her to back up against the wall.

  “Tell me again how much you love Thomas.” He pointed to his face. “And look me in the eye this time.”

  Naomi finally looked into his eyes. Her voice trembled as she said it again. “I love Thomas.”

  “You love him so much that you kissed another man.” He raised his shoulders and lowered them slowly as he stared at her. “If I thought the kiss was for revenge, I’d walk away. But you felt something. You’re just scared to upset a situation that isn’t right for you.”

  He was correct. She’d felt something far more than friendship. But even though this unleashed anger at Thomas wasn’t going to vanish overnight, she owed it to her fiancé to give him the second chance God was offering them. It seemed kinder to Amos to keep her feelings to herself. “We’re physically attracted to each other, and we irresponsibly acted on it.”

  “You’re lying.” He was so close to her, she could feel his breath on her face, the magnetism of his lips moving toward hers.

  She shuddered and turned her head to the side. He practically had her pinned against the wall.

  “I’m not lying!” she yelled as he braced one arm on either side of her. She let her tears flow, knowing she’d let him kiss her when she faced him.

  “Naomi . . .” he said softly. “I’m not going to force myself on you. I think you’re beautiful inside and out. I feel like our love for painting isn’t the only thing we have in common. We haven’t known each other that long, and we’re both vulnerable. I’m able to admit all of that. But you are the first woman since Sarah died who makes me want to live again, the way I used to, enjoying life, praising Gott, and looking forward to the blessings of each new day.” He paused, and when she looked at him another tear rolled down her cheek.

  “I’m just confused,” she said softly. “I need to sort out mei feelings, and I’m not being fair to Thomas by kissing you.” Lowering her gaze, she finally admitted the truth. “I know it’s more than physical attraction, but I am suffocating in guilt even though I want nothing more than for you to kiss me again.”

  He leaned closer and she closed her
eyes, but he gently kissed her on the forehead, lingering before he eased away. “Now you are being honest, and you need to sort through your feelings. My being here doesn’t make that any easier for you. I will leave here a better man for having spent time with you. I know there’s hope for me to find someone else too.”

  She wanted to blurt out that she didn’t want him to find anyone else. The thought stung as much as envisioning Thomas with another woman—maybe more. But telling him that would only make things worse.

  A noise at the top of the stairs caught her attention, then the door closed. With both hands, Naomi pushed Amos out of the way and felt her way around the chairs and back to the entrance. Amos followed with the flashlight.

  “Nee, nee, nee!” She rushed up the basement steps. On the top one was a tray with two small plates, napkins, crackers, cheese spread, salami, and some pickles. Next to the platter was a small pot of coffee, along with two cups. Naomi turned the doorknob, yanking on it before she pounded on the door. It wouldn’t budge.

  “Lizzie, you open this door right now!” She looked over her shoulder at Amos, who was shining the light on the tray. “I told you! She does this sort of thing.” She took a deep breath.

  “Lizzie, you open this door right now! Do you hear me?”

  * * *

  Esther poured herself a cup of coffee, knowing it would be a long night. She couldn’t leave them locked in the basement and unattended. They might light the lantern down there. What if there was a mishap? She’d have to stay up long enough for them to sort things out.

  Lizzie shuffled into the kitchen yawning and rubbing her eyes. “I must have dozed off while I was reading.” She glanced at the clock on the wall. “It’s too early for bed, even for me. What’s all the ruckus?”

  Esther cleared her throat. “The kinner were having a spat. I think they need some time to work through it.” She nodded toward the basement door.

  Lizzie was suddenly fully awake, eyes wide. “Esther Ann Zook! What have you done?”

  “It’s only for a while. I was around the corner and when I heard yelling, I came closer and listened. Those two need to realize they are already in lieb. They’re both fighting their feelings. They just need a little time.”