The House on Malcolm Street
Page 32
He looked like he was afraid again, almost like the way he’d seemed in the Kurchers’ kitchen when I’d refused to be the one to drive. His hand fidgeted on the rail and he cleared his throat a couple of times. Finally, he just lowered himself to the step where he’d stood, sitting practically at my feet. “Can I talk to you?”
He looked like a little boy, tussled hair, uncertain eyes and all.
I sat on a step near him, so we were both perched halfway up in Marigold’s front hall.
“I need to apologize,” he began.
My heart thundered, and I immediately began to protest. “Oh no. You did nothing wrong. You helped me. Really. I was in such a state I don’t think I could have managed on my own.”
He smiled, a frightened little smile, and tears came to his eyes. “That’s kind of what I thought.”
“But then – why apologize?”
“Not for the train.” He smiled a little wider. “I should have known better. I should have listened to Marigold, but more than that, what the Lord was trying to do here. It was wrong of me to be so rude to you, to try to make you promise something that would never have been right. The truth is, you helped me, maybe more than you know. And I didn’t think I’d ever be able to help you. But I guess I did. In some small way.”
“No. A big way. A very big way.”
He looked beyond me, up into the rafters. “What I’m trying to say is, since I’ve already been proved wrong on that point, I was wondering . . . if you wouldn’t find it too uncomfortable . . . I just want to know . . . if you’d have any objection to claiming me for a friend.”
I could see the hope in his face, like a child’s, the hunger to be accepted. “That would be wonderful,” I told him. “If you’d also accept me as your friend.”
He lowered his eyes and looked for a moment into mine. “I think I can do that.”
He pulled himself to his feet and offered me his hand. With fluttering heart, I took it and he lifted me gently but then turned his eyes away again.
“I know your loss is still recent. I don’t expect anything more of you, so don’t be worryin’. Just friendship. That’s enough.”
“Thank you,” I told him, feeling suddenly warm inside. “More than you know.”
His eyes returned to mine for a fleeting instant with a twinkle of light, a depth of emotion rare and almost lovely. I could respect a man like this, I caught myself thinking. Maybe even love a man like this one day.
He took my hand, gave it a little shake. Then he walked on up the steps away from me.
“Josiah,” I called before he could disappear.
“Yes?” He stopped on a stair and stood stiff.
“God bless you.”
I could see his shoulders relax. He turned just a little. “God bless you too, Leah Breckenridge.”
Then he went on to his room and left me on the stairs alone. I’d just been going down to fetch fresh towels, but it took me a moment now to remember that.
Another miracle. Another gift from heaven. I don’t know why I thought of it like that. Josiah was nothing like my father. But I saw a miracle just the same. I saw grace and peace melt a barrier from a strong man’s heart, and I felt like singing. Except that I was afraid I might wake Eliza, and maybe even Marigold.
But no. I’d probably not wake Marigold. She was probably still up. Praying. For the hurt to be healed, the poor to be fed, and everything to come aright in this world.
I skipped down the stairway and twirled once or twice in the hall. Wouldn’t Eliza think I was funny if she saw me now? But she’d understand. That girl had no trouble comprehending joy. And not so long ago, I’d thought I’d never feel it again. Now I felt full to overflowing.
You are so good, God! Even when I doubted you, you never turned away. I love you. I thank you, for every wonder that you’ve wrought. Hope. Grace. And your precious gift of peace. Thank you, thank you, God!
Leisha Kelly is the author of many popular historical fiction books, including Julia’s Hope, Emma’s Gift, Katie’s Dream, Till Morning Is Nigh, and the Country Road Chronicles. As L.A. Kelly, she is also the author of Tahn, Return to Alastair, and The Scarlet Trefoil. She and her husband have two children and live in a small Illinois town where she has served many years on her local library board. Leisha is also busy as a speaker in the surrounding area and a youth and children’s minister at her home church.
For more information on Leisha and her books, go to www.leishakelly.com.
Table of Contents
COVER PAGE
TITLE PAGE
COPYRIGHT PAGE
DEDICATION
CONTENTS
1 LEAH WISKIRK BRECKENRIDGE
2 LEAH
3 LEAH
4 LEAH
5 LEAH
6 LEAH
7 JOSIAH WALSH
8 LEAH
9 JOSIAH
10 LEAH
11 JOSIAH
12 JOSIAH
13 JOSIAH
14 LEAH
15 LEAH
16 LEAH
17 LEAH
18 JOSIAH
19 LEAH
20 LEAH
21 JOSIAH
22 LEAH
23 JOSIAH
24 LEAH
25 JOSIAH
26 LEAH
27 JOSIAH
28 LEAH
29 JOSIAH
30 LEAH
31 JOSIAH
32 LEAH
33 JOSIAH
34 LEAH
35 LEAH
36 LEAH
37 LEAH