Sarah looked a little hurt. “I thought it might make you feel better. Besides, once I finished the chores, I didn’t have much else to do.” She bustled out to the kitchen and returned with green beans and onion patties.
“Danke.” Although her stomach rebelled at all that food, Elizabeth tried to act grateful.
The pungent aroma of pine brought up too many memories. Her eyes burned with unshed tears. Grateful for the silent prayer, she bowed her head to hide them.
But as she’d told Luke on the ride home, she wrestled with anger. She’d never confessed that to anyone. Not even her family. Why had she trusted him with her darkest secret?
Sarah moved restlessly across from her, and Elizabeth sat up with a start. Prayer time was over, and she’d wasted it thinking of something else entirely. She always tried to pray, but since . . . Well, since then, it had been difficult.
Sarah passed her the bowl of green beans. “How did things go at work?”
“We had lines the length of the store. The customers never stopped.” Because they had to eat everything on their plates, Elizabeth dished out only tiny amounts.
“What’s the matter? Don’t you like my cooking?” her sister demanded.
“I do.” Elizabeth cast about for a reason that might satisfy her sister. “Someone delivered a huge pizza to the shop today. I ate way too much.”
“I see.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll enjoy all the leftovers. I can even take some to work with me.”
That perked Sarah up, and she smiled. “Well, if I don’t have to do much for meals the next few days, I could help you out by cleaning out that room.”
Sarah didn’t have to say which room. Elizabeth had been fearing this. Keeping her eyes on her plate, she tried to steady her voice, but it came out shaky. “I plan to do it after my cast comes off.”
“At least let me pack things up. I could take the boxes over to the Re-Uzit. That’ll make it easier for you.”
Nothing would make it easier. So far, Elizabeth hadn’t been brave enough to deal with it. “I’ll do it myself.” Later. Much later.
Elizabeth was so lost in thought she missed what her sister said after that until Sarah mentioned Luke’s name.
“You know, I keep thinking that you might not be alive if it hadn’t been for Luke.” Her eyes filled with tears. “It was hard enough losing Owen, and I remember how hard we prayed for your recovery after that accident. I’m so grateful to God for healing you.”
Outwardly, Elizabeth appeared to have recovered, but inwardly, she was still a mess. I’m not sure I’ll ever fully heal. But Luke’s words helped.
Sarah tilted her head to one side. “I’ve always been curious about Luke. He’s very handsome, kind, and a good, hard worker. I wonder why he never married.”
Elizabeth stabbed two green beans with her fork. The tines screeched across the plate, and Sarah glanced at her.
“Do you need help?”
“I’m fine.” Elizabeth pushed out the words despite clenched teeth.
Sarah leaned across the table as if to take Elizabeth’s silverware. “I can cut things for you, if you want.”
“I don’t need help.” At the sharp edge in Elizabeth’s voice, Sarah sank back into her chair. Elizabeth attempted to lighten the mood. “It’s my leg that’s broken, not my arms.”
Sarah’s reproachful look increased Elizabeth’s guilt.
“I know.” Her sister bit her lip. “I thought maybe you had bruises or something.”
“Ach, Sarah. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.” At least not about helping with the meal. Being interested in Luke was a totally different matter.
* * *
For more than a week, Luke drove Elizabeth back and forth to work. It meant losing more than an hour of work every evening and then spending long hours in his workshop once he got home. But he didn’t want Elizabeth to know he returned to the store after dropping her off, or she might find another way home. And he’d lose the best part of his day.
So far, she hadn’t brought up the serious conversation they’d had, and Luke didn’t want to push or pry. He helped the only way he could—by praying.
Often it was after nine before he got into his home workshop. He’d brought the cradles home last week because with all the Christmas rush at work, he had no free time. He should be working on them, but he’d spent most nights working on the nativity set for Elizabeth.
Luke hadn’t given Yolanda his original carvings, because they revealed too much emotion. He intended to give some of those to Elizabeth, but a few were too rough and revealed too much of his inner angst, so he’d been making replacements. Once he completed those, he’d planned to finish the cradles.
The auction had gone well for New Beginnings last weekend, and his armoire had brought in a huge amount of money, much more than he’d have charged if he’d sold it in the store. Most of the money would cover feeding and clothing the girls as well as keeping a roof over their heads. But the shelter had few supplies for the teen moms who decided to keep their babies. Now that the Christmas rush was over, he’d see about making other furniture to help.
Last night he’d worked until almost midnight to complete the final nativity figure. Barely able to keep his eyes open, he added the final coat of white paint to one cradle, but the other still needed more work. He might have to deliver them a few days after Christmas unless he got that one done today.
All the holiday orders for his woodworking business had gone out yesterday, so he’d scheduled today off. Alan’s brother had offered to help out in the store, and unlike some of the other stores that had long hours on Christmas Eve, Luke had told them to close by three.
But when he awoke to eight inches of snow, he was tempted to head into town to help Alan clear the sidewalks outside the business. Luke usually took care of several neighboring stores, particularly the ones with elderly owners. First, though, he’d have to shovel out his driveway and Elizabeth’s.
He’d almost reached the end of his driveway when he heard the scream.
Chapter 8
Was that Elizabeth?
Luke rushed toward her house. Elizabeth lay in a heap at the foot of her porch steps.
He knelt beside her. “What happened?”
Half-laughing, half-crying, she waved an arm in the air. “I wanted to sweep off the porch, but I slipped on a patch of ice and bumped down the stairs.”
“Are you hurt anywhere?”
“Besides my pride? No, but I’ll probably have a few bruises tomorrow on my back and”—her cheeks flushed a becoming shade of pink—“and . . . never mind, I’m fine.”
He was pretty sure he knew which part of her had taken the most bruising. “If you’re sure nothing is broken, I’ll take you inside.” He bent to lift her.
“Luke, no. Just hand me my crutches. I’m fine.”
Ignoring her protests, he lifted her gently in his arms and carried her inside. Kicking off his snow-encrusted boots on the doormat, he took her into the living room. After he lowered her onto the sofa, he went outside to retrieve her snow-covered crutches. He wiped them off and brought them to her.
She acknowledged him with a quick danke. Then she added, “I’m not an invalid.”
Her attempt to look indignant didn’t match the longing for care in her eyes. Luke’s heart went out to her. She tried so hard to cover up her neediness.
“I know you’re not. I only want to help.”
Elizabeth bit her lip. “I didn’t mean to be so murrish. It’s just that . . .” She dipped her head and avoided meeting his eyes.
“It’s all right.” Luke’s words came out too stiff and formal. He’d hoped to hide his hurt. Instead, he sounded miffed.
“Ach, Luke. I’m sorry. I’m grateful for all you’ve done—driving me to work, replenishing the firewood, shoveling my driveway.” When he cleared his throat as if to deny it, she waved it away. “I know it was you. You’ve done so much. I can never repay you.”
“I don’t expect to be repaid.” The gruffness of his voice came across as annoyed. Could he ever manage to say what he meant without giving off the wrong message? It would be easier if he wasn’t trying to hide his feelings.
He tried to soften his tone, but this time, he sounded robotic. “God wants us to help others.” That hadn’t been his sole motivation, but he couldn’t share his deeper reason.
“I know, but I have to learn to take care of myself.”
Elizabeth may have intended to appear independent and capable, but Luke detected a quaver in her voice under that show of strength. Did she feel that she needed to go through life alone?
He’d be happy to assist her with anything she needed and more, but he couldn’t say that. Not now. Not when she was still dressed in black. Not when she was still mourning. And maybe not ever.
He choked back the lump in his throat and tried to add lightness to their dark memories. “So, you planned to shovel your own sidewalk and driveway on crutches?” He lifted one eyebrow to show he was teasing.
Elizabeth stared at him for a long moment. Then she burst out laughing.
At the sudden change in her expression, Luke’s heart contracted. Then it began beating double time. Her beauty took his breath away.
“Neh. I only planned to sweep and salt the porch. Just enough so I can get out to the buggy for church tomorrow morning.”
He waved toward the driveway covered with eight inches of snow. “And how would they get to the house?” He kept his tone joking rather than critical.
But she sobered. “You must think me the most prideful and stubborn person you’ve ever met.”
“Well, not the most,” he teased. “I’ve met worse.”
Planting her hands on her hips, Elizabeth demanded, “Like who?”
“I can’t tell you. I refuse to gossip.”
“Oh, you.” But her smile had returned.
“Just to be clear,” Luke said, “I don’t think you’re prideful or stubborn. I see you as a woman trying hard to cope in difficult circumstances. But accepting help from others is not a sign of weakness.”
* * *
Another lesson Elizabeth needed to learn. This holiday season had been filled with them. Right now, she could practice graciously accepting the many things he’d done for her.
“Danke. Not just for the rides to work and for this”—she waved toward the freshly stocked woodpile—“but for everything. You’ve done so much for me.”
“You don’t have to thank me.” His words came out gruff.
She must have embarrassed him by calling attention to his good deeds. Of course he wouldn’t want praise for kindness. She should have thought of that.
He blew on his hands and shuffled his feet. “I’d better get going. I still have projects to finish in my workshop.” He made himself turn and head for the door. If he didn’t, he might spend all day staring at her.
“Wait,” Elizabeth called after him. “When you’re done, why don’t you come in and warm up? I can make some hot chocolate.”
Luke turned and smiled at her. “You have to return my favor?”
“Neh, neh.” The only things on her mind had been the length of the driveway and the below-freezing temperatures.
Come on, Elizabeth. Be honest. Wanting his company didn’t enter your mind?
Luke was still waiting for her answer.
“I thought you might be cold after shoveling.” Her answer sounded lame and defensive.
He stared at her for a moment. “It is pretty cold. I might want something to warm me up.” His face blazed at how that sounded. He quickly added, “Hot cocoa is always good for that.”
Elizabeth glanced down at the wooden floorboards, hoping he couldn’t hear how her heartbeat had quickened. She tried to keep her tone neutral. “Just knock whenever you’re finished.”
“I will.”
Her eyes misty, Elizabeth stared after him as he headed back outside. He took such tender care of her. As much as she appreciated it, it reinforced her loneliness.
Shaking off the thought, she picked up her crutches and eased herself off the couch. Maneuvering into the kitchen and getting all the ingredients took longer than she expected. She’d complained about her sister coddling her, but having her here had made life much easier. Sarah had moved back home last weekend to be closer to her new job, and Elizabeth missed the company.
With today being a Saturday, she didn’t need to go into work, so she’d missed her usual drive with Luke this morning. Because she’d expected him to work on Christmas Eve, she’d offered to help at the store. But Yolanda had refused. She’d insisted Elizabeth needed to stay at home and enjoy her holiday weekend.
Now Elizabeth was glad she had. She’d get more time with Luke than she usually did, and his attention wouldn’t be distracted by traffic. That thought made her insides flutter.
She went over to the window. Luke’s back was to her, so he couldn’t see her staring out the window. He lifted heavy shovelfuls of snow and easily tossed them aside. Woodworking must have given him those strong muscles, that brawny body.
He finished the last of the driveway and turned so suddenly she had no time to step back from the window. Had he seen her?
She clicked into the hallway and pulled open the front door. She didn’t want him to forget her invitation.
Before he climbed the porch steps, he lifted the tarp over the woodpile and picked up some of the firewood he’d stacked there. “Nothing like a fire on a freezing day.” He stepped onto the porch and stomped the snow off his boots.
Elizabeth shuffled backward on her crutches to pull open the door. When he walked in, he filled the entryway. She backed against the wall as he bent to set down the firewood. Then he removed his boots and hung his coat on a peg.
His deep blue work shirt highlighted the blue of his eyes. She forced herself to look away as he lifted the logs.
When he stood, Elizabeth sucked in a breath. She’d never been this close to his chest, his broad shoulders. Not while she was facing him. He’d pulled her against him when he’d rescued her, but then she’d had her back to him. Even in the ambulance, he’d been nearby, but not this close. Or if he had, she’d been too dazed to notice.
In her narrow hallway, she couldn’t scoot away, so she rocked unsteadily on her crutches. Maybe this hadn’t been such a gut idea.
“Lead the way.” He motioned for her to precede him down the hall.
Her usual step-lift-clunk gait grew even more awkward with him behind her.
“Take your time.” His breath lifted the tiny loose hairs on the back of her neck and sent shivers down her spine.
Was he afraid she’d fall again?
His nearness made her even more clumsy. She had to stop and steady herself several times.
“It’s hard to use crutches, isn’t it?”
“I guess,” Elizabeth murmured. She didn’t add that right now his presence made it even more difficult.
* * *
While she went to the stove to heat the milk, Luke tore a few sheets of paper from the old phone book she kept by the fire and wadded them up. After he lit those, he made sure the kindling caught before he joined her in the kitchen.
She’d propped herself up near the stove. Steam rose from the mugs she was stirring. Chocolate and—Luke inhaled deeply. Peppermint?
“Umm. That smells delicious.” He couldn’t wait to wrap his hands around the hot mug. Although he’d rather wrap his arms around Elizabeth. He shoved his hands into his pockets to keep himself from acting on that impulse.
“Would you like a lemon bar? Sarah made some when she stayed last week.”
“Why don’t I carry all this into the living room so we can sit by the fire?” Luke offered.
On second thought, maybe that wasn’t such a wise idea. Relaxing together in front of the fire brought up too many of his fantasies. He reminded himself Elizabeth was still a grieving widow.
And today was Christmas Eve. He should be in his shop
working on the second cradle. He’d intended to do that as soon as he’d finished shoveling, but he couldn’t resist spending time with Elizabeth.
Besides, she seemed lonely and sad today. Perhaps she needed company.
Or maybe he was creating excuses.
Her grateful smile chased away all thoughts of leaving. After she pointed out a tray, he loaded it and carried it to the table by the couch. Once Elizabeth had settled onto one end of the sofa, he brought her a mug and a lemon bar. Then he sat on a wooden rocking chair across from her.
Luke sipped the steaming chocolate and appreciated the warmth flowing inside. The fire hadn’t caught yet. Even so, his toes and fingers stung as they thawed. But the rest of him remained much too hot.
* * *
Elizabeth floated off into daydreams. Sitting by the fire with the man she loved. She sat up so abruptly her hot chocolate sloshed in the mug. Where had that thought come from?
Struggling to tamp down the old feelings rising inside, she gulped a large sip of cocoa and choked. She pinched her lips together so she didn’t dribble chocolate all over her. She managed to swallow the mouthful of hot liquid scorching her tongue.
“Are you all right?”
Something about the warmth of the fire and Luke’s accepting expression made Elizabeth lower her guard. He’d only been asking about her choking, but she answered honestly, “I don’t know. I’m not sure if I’ll ever be all right again.”
Luke’s eyes filled with sympathy, and she dropped her gaze. Her attraction to him added to her guilt.
“I understand.”
She appreciated his attempt at comfort, but no one else could really know. Only someone who’d been through what she had could truly comprehend her grief. Or her guilt.
“I mean, I can’t understand what it’s like for you,” he said, “but if you ever feel like talking about it . . .” The anguish in his words told her he was dealing with his own sorrow.
“Maybe sometime.” If she could talk to anyone, it would be him. She had no idea why, but she’d never trusted anyone the way she trusted Luke.
He cleared his throat. “So are you going to your parents’ house for dinner tomorrow or . . .”
Amish Christmas Twins Page 12
