by Loree Lough
“A little. You?”
“Yeah, I guess.” He washed down the last of his cookie with a gulp of tea. “Will you be in court tomorrow?”
“No. Thankfully, I’ll be in the office all day.”
“Want to have lunch with me?”
“I’m supposed to stop by the Gundens,” she said, “to explain the paperwork I dropped off the other day.”
“You lucky stiff.”
One brow quirked in response.
“You get to see Levi.”
At the mere mention of the boy’s name, her demeanor changed. Julia sat up straighter and her eyes widened. “Oh, but he’s a dear little boy, isn’t he?”
“The dearie-est.” He chuckled. Simon took another cookie. “I was there the day he was born.”
Simon proceeded to tell Julia how, nearly six years earlier, William had mentioned that he’d be taking Rebekah to Ohio, to attend his mother’s funeral, leaving his very pregnant wife home alone with Seth. Though William assured Simon that Hannah would be fine on her own, Simon found reasons to hang around. As a veterinarian, he knew the signs…and her time was near. “She may have had an easy labor and delivery with the other two,” Simon told Julia, “but that wasn’t the case with Levi.”
He bit into the cookie then sipped his tea. “She was worried what the bishop might say if they knew I was there while William was out of town, so I parked my truck in the barn and spent three nights in the hayloft, running through the shadows so I could check on her every couple of hours. My part in Levi’s birth has to remain a carefully guarded Gunden family secret.” Finishing off the cookie, he dusted his hands. “Bet you didn’t know that his middle name is Simon, did you?”
“No, but it makes perfect sense.” She ran a finger around the rim of her mug until it emitted a quiet hum. “I’m sure the other Amish would have understood, under the circumstances,” Julia said, “but your secret’s safe with me, all the same.”
Suddenly she gasped and flashed a big bright smile. “Hey, now it all makes sense!”
“What does?”
“The way you look at him—as if he’s your very own child.”
“If wishes were fishes.” Simon winked. “I don’t mind admitting, I couldn’t love that kid more if he was mine. I have to work hard to keep Seth and Rebekah from thinking that Levi’s my favorite. But to be honest, he is.”
“You’re a pretty amazing man, Simon Thomas.”
He felt the heat of a blush creep into his cheeks and hid it by faking a big, exaggerated yawn. “You know,” he said when it ended, “maybe I’ll make good on that promise to take him to the wolf sanctuary, since you’re busy this weekend.”
“Oh, Simon, I’m sure he’d love that!”
“He’d like it better if you came with us.”
“No, you boys should go alone. It’ll be good for you both, I think.” She tilted her head and smiled sweetly. “Can I ask a personal question?”
“Sure. You’ve endured plenty from me, so it seems only fair that you get in a few jabs.”
“It’s so obvious that you love kids, so…so why don’t you have any of your own? Wasn’t your wife able to—”
“No, no,” he said, waving the comment away, “we were able. It’s just that Georgia wanted to wait so we could adjust to being a couple first, and travel and furnish the house just the way she wanted it…stuff like that.”
“Oh,” she said quietly, staring at her hands.
“You don’t know how many times I’ve wished I’d pushed harder to have kids. That way, when she—” Simon cut himself off. The last thing he wanted to do was burden her with the long, sad story of his loss. Instead, he drank the last of his tea and glanced at the clock.
“That way,” Julia finished for him, “you’d have the children to remember her by.”
“That, too, I guess. But mostly, I’d just have them.” He shrugged. “Gets mighty lonely, rattling around in that big old house all by myself.”
“It would be a great place to raise kids. All those rooms. All that space. That big back ya—”
“Julia,” he interrupted, “can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
He didn’t fail to notice the note of wariness in her tone, and it made him smile. “Remember, I gave you permission to smack me if I got too personal….”
“Ah, yes. I’d almost forgotten.”
But the twinkle in her eyes told him she hadn’t. “Why aren’t you married? I mean, even Levi knows it isn’t your feet or your teeth.” She giggled quietly as Simon counted out her qualities, one finger at a time. “You’re gorgeous, smart, loving, and kind, easy to be with, a great cook, an excellent housekeeper….” He frowned. “All I can figure is, every guy you’ve met is as dumb as a bag of doorknobs.”
“There you go again,” she said, fanning rosy cheeks.
“And there you go again, trying to distract me from the question at hand.”
She took a deep breath before saying, “I know it’s tough to believe, considering how perfect I am and all”—Julia laughed, a hearty, happy sound that echoed through the cozy kitchen—“but, honestly? Nobody’s asked!”
Had she wanted someone to ask? he wondered. Simon didn’t want to dwell on that. He slapped the table. “Just as I suspected. Dumb as a box of hammers!”
She gave him a long, intense look, one he couldn’t read. Rather than press the issue, he looked at the time again. “For the love of Pete, how’d it get to be ten fifteen?”
“Time flies when you’re having fun?”
Simon got up and walked around to her side of the table and helped her to her feet. “So you had fun tonight?”
“Yes, I did. Very much.”
And God help him, his stomach churned and his heart flipped as if he were a teenage boy in the throes of his first crush. “So what about lunch tomorrow?” he asked, heading for the front door.
“I have to—”
“Oh, right. The Gundens.” He tapped his temple. “Sorry. Blame the hour for my thickheadedness.”
“Wait right here….”
She dashed down the hall and, after several metallic thumps and bumps, came running back, carrying a plastic bag. “Your clothes,” she said, “all dried and folded.”
“When did you have time to do that?”
“I grabbed them while you were fixing us that cup of tea. You didn’t see me slip by, leaving a drippy trail behind?”
“No,” he admitted, amazed at his own lack of attention to detail.
“Well, good.”
“Good?”
“A girl needs to keep a few mysteries about her….”
“A few?” he echoed. “You’re one big giant ball of mystery!” But it was way too late in the day to get into that. “Guess I’d better hit the road. The cookies were delicious.”
“When I bake another batch, you’ll be the first to know.”
“Soon, I hope.”
Again with the small talk. What gives?
Side by side, they walked to her gravel drive, where he’d parked the pickup. One hand on the door handle, he said, “You’re quite a woman, you know that?”
“Simon, stop. You’re embarrassing me.”
He slid in behind the steering wheel. “I told you, the truth shouldn’t embarrass you.” He hadn’t even left yet and already, he was trying to think up ways to see her again. Already he missed her. He crooked a finger, beckoning her near. “I think maybe you have a flaw after all.”
She bent at the waist, putting her face mere inches from his, and feigned annoyance. “I beg your pardon?”
“You’re too easily embarrassed.”
Grinning, she said, “Perfection is boring.”
Reaching through the window, he stroked her cheek. “I don’t think you’re the least bit boring.”
And with that, he drove away.
Simon watched her reflection grow smaller in the rearview mirror until she all but disappeared from view. And when he nearly mowed down a mailbox alon
gside the road, Simon blinked himself back to attention.
Because now more than ever, he wanted to live a long, healthy life.
Chapter Twelve
Good thing you live so far from the neighbors, she thought. What would they have said if they’d seen her waving at the diminishing glow of Simon’s taillights as they were swallowed up by the ravenous rainy darkness? Hugging herself against the early summer night’s chill, she hiked up her long, winding drive, smiling at the memory of him snapping off a smart salute as he drove away.
Julia took her time cleaning up the dishes, remembering as she stored the last slice of cake that he’d seemed as reluctant to leave as she’d been to let him go. Something was happening between them, she admitted, tossing her own rain-soaked clothes into the washing machine—something grand and glorious and good. All her best intentions to keep a safe distance from Simon had fallen by the wayside…thanks in no small part to his guileless charm.
If she had a lick of decency in her, she’d gather her courage and stick to her initial convictions, because while her feelings for him had changed immensely, her belief that he deserved better than her had not.
Julia hurried into her favorite cotton nightgown and climbed into bed, cuddling under the thin, fraying afghan Granny had sewn so many years before. In the not-too-distant future, she’d have to part with this love-worn memento, for it would never survive another laundering—no matter how mild the soap or how gently she rubbed and rinsed—and the thought made her heart ache.
Even in the dark, Julia knew where to find the sole minuscule stain, hidden in the petals of a rose, and remembered how it came to be: The loud jangle of Granny’s clunky black phone had startled her, making Granny prick her finger as she stitched one colorful scrap to another. Tears stung behind Julia’s eyelids as she pictured her grandmother popping the needle-stuck digit into her mouth and mumbling, “Nothing worthwhile comes without a price.”
She wondered what price Simon would pay for his association with her….
Rolling onto her side, Julia faced the windows and watched the wind riffle the limbs of the tree just outside. Silhouetted by silvery clouds, witch-finger branches tapped softly against the glass, interrupting the flow of rain that sheeted down each pane. How odd that Simon had wanted a tour of her yard after seeing lightning in the distance. Odder still that he shared her sense of wonder at the raw, unbridled, sometimes dangerous power of nature…something no one but Granny had ever understood about her.
As she’d moved from one foster home to another, Julia had tried hard to forget Paradise, Pennsylvania. Leaving the pleasant memories in the past had been easier than missing the two-story farmhouse with its fuzzy blue sofas, bright Priscilla curtains, and footpaths worn onto wood floors by years of living. Mostly she’d needed to stop missing the man and woman who’d welcomed her into that house when her own parents were deemed unfit by the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania.
Julia remembered the story Simon had told her about helping Levi come into the world. Clearly he loved the boy. But she’d seen him with other children, and it had been just as clear that he loved them all. Julia loved kids, too, but despite a years-old ache to have her own, she couldn’t rid herself of the notion that to fulfill that dream would be an act of selfishness equaled only by her parents’. What if she’d inherited her mom and dad’s self-destructive inclinations? Their risky behavior? Their tendency to cling to dangerous habits? No way she’d subject even one innocent child to the miserable kind of life she’d lived!
All these years she’d dedicated herself to the law, because at least that way she could help a kid or two. Seemed rather pointless to embark on a husband hunt, knowing that a family would never be in her future. Far better—and easier—for everyone concerned if her sorry history remained a well-hidden secret.
Julia had learned the hard way what happened when others stumbled onto information about her past, and from her unique perspective, the Amish had nothing over her when it came to shunning. Why, even her foster siblings, who’d come from similar backgrounds and situations, felt superior enough to distance themselves from her once the ugly truth came out.
Time, a hard-earned college education, and success on the job had all helped to dull the sharp edge of loneliness, but Julia never quite managed to shake the concept that she was somehow tainted. And for proof, she hadn’t needed to look further than yearbooks and family photos that pictured her mom and dad as successful, well-adjusted, happy individuals who’d become a successful, motivated young couple.
Whether she’d been colicky or allergic to formula or simply one of those babies who couldn’t be satisfied, Julia would never know. But one fact was inescapable: Her birth had put them on the path to perdition. She’d been around finicky, fussy babies and tantrum-throwing toddlers, and neither had the power to drive normal, sane people to despair. So it was clear. Her parents were weak and immature, defective somehow, and she simply would not risk that she’d inherited their weaknesses.
She’d taught herself to count her blessings and learned to be content with what she had rather than torment herself with dreams of things that could never be hers. Life hadn’t been all that bad, after all. She’d never gone without a meal or lacked warm clothes in the wintertime. And how many other orphans had grandparents like hers? When Julia learned all they’d sacrificed to ensure that their only grandchild would someday have a home and a little money in the bank, her heart ached with love and gratitude.
Still, Julia—feeling contaminated and undeserving—left the money untouched as the house went fallow. If not for a long, stern scolding from Gramps’s good friend Judge Sullivan, she might never have come to her senses. And when finally she did, Julia had yet another reason to be grateful: She’d been deeply loved, surely and completely by her grandparents.
It had taken several months working as a public defender to realize that not all foster parents were contemptuous phonies, as a few of hers had been. But even with this surprising information, Julia remained suspicious, particularly of those who professed to be born-again, for they’d been the most cruel and twisted of all—especially when compared to good Christians like Gramps and Granny. She built a wall of anger and resentment around herself, and while hiding behind it, Julia didn’t have to concern herself with disappointment and rejection.
So the girl who’d moved from place to place with just four personal items and an odd assortment of hand-me-down clothes to her name now owned a fully furnished four-bedroom house on three beautiful acres in what tourist brochures called “God’s Country.” Let them call it “God’s Country,” she thought. Julia would not thank Him for any of what she had, because what had He done to make any of it possible? She owed everything she had, everything she’d become, to Gramps and Granny. And maybe just a little to Judge Sullivan, whose advice and guidance had helped her become a lawyer.
Julia stroked the quilt’s butter-soft satin trim and sighed. If she got hit by a bus in Lancaster tomorrow, who would she leave it all to?
The question brought Simon to mind. Tomorrow, first thing, she’d draw up her own will, stipulating that he could use whatever funds came from the sale of her house and land to provide for unadopted pets. He’d come to mean a lot to her, and so had his many “causes.”
She dreaded the day he found out about her mother and father, because then he’d know what the kids from her past knew: Julia Spencer had been born of drug-addicted thieves. Just because she could never enjoy a happy future as his wife didn’t mean she couldn’t count him as a friend, as one of her blessings…however temporary.
The wind kicked up as the rain beat down, conjuring images of her whimsical hours with Simon. Now, an hour into her sleepless night, Julia smiled, realizing that if she had to write up a “Reasons to Like Simon” list, she’d get writer’s cramp. Besides being compellingly handsome, he’d proven time and again that goodness and decency were as much a part of him as his teasing green eyes and gleaming blond hair. She’d be hard-pressed to thin
k of a person with a greater talent for making others laugh. He fearlessly cracked jokes, sometimes at his own expense, to the delight of those around him—like the funny faces and silly sounds he’d made at the café to coax merry giggles from Levi. If anyone needed proof of how much the guy loved kids, all they’d need to do is watch him with that one.
And if they wanted proof of Simon’s innate kindness and generosity? Both could be found in his chosen life’s work and the now-happy and well-adjusted pets he’d welcomed into his home.
He’d befriended the Gundens and dozens of other Amish families in Lancaster County and often provided free veterinary services to any Paradise family in need. And what about all the hours he dedicated to the wolf sanctuary?
Julia made a mental note to get over there as soon as possible; hopefully the litter of cubs, born shortly before her last visit, would be old enough to hold by now. The caretaker had promised she could hold them—“If you don’t mind a few nips and bites…,” he’d said.
No, she didn’t. She’d earned a scar or two, putting in volunteer hours around the sanctuary. Not as many as she’d noticed on Simon’s hands and forearms, but then he spent no fewer than forty hours a week with a wide variety of clawed and toothed creatures at his clinic. No reason to believe the beautiful wolves had inflicted every injury.
The day they’d met, when she’d first noticed him from the corner of her eyes, Julia admired his natural, easy way with Casper. Then, when he spotted her playing with Fawn, he’d ambled closer, instantly inspiring the same reaction from the she-wolf…and herself.
Yes, there certainly was much to admire about the man. What Julia couldn’t figure out was what Simon saw in her. And there was no doubt in her mind: He saw something. She’d have to be an idiot not to have noticed that he liked her, liked her a lot. A certain joy settled over her as she thought of the way he’d so tenderly held her, as if he believed God had crafted her of delicate porcelain. Even more wondrous, the sweet yet solicitous way he’d kissed her—proof, in her mind, that Simon’s passion was tempered by respect and a genuine concern for her feelings.
