by Beth Wiseman
Thomas searched the porch until he found a second protruding nail. He squatted down and tilted back his small yellow straw hat. After a few attempts he slid the claw around the nail. With a couple of tugs, the nail slid free, due more to the softness of the rotted wood than to Thomas’s natural strength.
“Sehr gut,” Josiah said, happy to see the surprise in the boy’s blue eyes when the nail gave way. “Ready to do some more?”
Thomas grinned. Unlike his older brother, he still had all his baby teeth. “Ya. This is schpass.”
For the next hour or so Josiah and Thomas removed nails while Josiah kept one ear out for Andrew and the mower. He wasn’t used to being responsible for anyone but himself.
When he’d removed the last nail, the front door opened with a loud squeak. He turned to see Amanda standing in the doorway behind the screen door. Hopping to his feet, he opened it himself, in case it fell loose from its hinges like the back door had.
“You buwe hungry?”
When Thomas nodded enthusiastically, Josiah inwardly cringed. He had nothing to eat in the house. Most times he ate fast food or sandwiches and chips, and he hadn’t even planned for either of those today. He stepped forward and looked at Amanda. “Give me a minute to hook up the buggy, and I’ll go into town and get us something.”
She waved him off. A damp lock of light brown hair had escaped from beneath her kapp, and she tucked it behind her left ear. That and the rosy glow of her cheeks were a testament to how hard she’d been working. “Don’t bother. I already have lunch prepared.”
“You do?”
“Ya. Rachel ran home and brought over a few things. It’s nothing fancy, but it’s food.”
Thomas dashed past Amanda, not waiting for an invitation to go inside. She turned around and called, “Wait on the rest of us, Thomas. And don’t forget to wash your hands!”
“I’ll need to go to the pump,” Josiah said, moving to leave. “I haven’t had the water hooked up to the house yet. Daed had it disconnected when we left.”
“Took care of that too. There’s a bucket with clean water by the sink, along with some bar soap.” She glanced down at his hands. “Don’t forget to clean yours too.” She winked at him, then turned around and went inside.
This time Josiah couldn’t stop his smile as he followed her inside the house. When he reached the kitchen, he blinked. How she had managed to do so much in such a short period of time amazed him. All the cobwebs were gone. The table and chairs were wiped clean, along with the countertops and cabinet doors. He glanced down at the uneven wood floor. Despite looking in desperate need of repair, he couldn’t detect a speck of dirt on it.
“Thomas, I know you’re a big boy, but let me help you anyway.”
He glanced at Amanda, who was helping Thomas rinse his soapy hands. A blue bucket—not one of his, he noticed—sat next to the metal double-basin sink, which had been polished to a brilliant shine. A bar of gold-colored soap lay next to the faucet.
Amanda lifted the bucket and poured water over Thomas’s sudsy hands, then handed him a towel. “Now, go remind Andrew that he said he’d be in here five minutes ago. I think he’s having way too much fun with the lawn mower.”
Josiah chuckled, and Amanda turned around and looked at him, her expression soft. “Nice to hear you laugh, Josiah.”
Actually, it felt good to laugh. He hadn’t laughed in such a long time, longer than he cared to remember. There hadn’t been much to be happy about in his life over the past few years.
“Your turn,” she said, pointing to the bucket. “Hands. Now.”
He smirked. “I’m not twelve, Amanda. You don’t have to remind me. Twice,” he added.
A flush came over her face. “Sorry. I guess I get carried away sometimes.”
“Sometimes?” a female voice said.
Josiah turned to see Rachel placing plastic forks beside the white paper plates on the table. She was several inches shorter than Amanda, with darker brown hair and a more olive tone to her skin. In some ways she reminded him of Amanda at the same age.
“Very funny, Rachel.” But Amanda didn’t seem to mind her sister’s good-natured teasing.
The boys bounded inside as Josiah finished washing his hands. He helped Andrew with the almost-empty bucket. He would take it out after lunch and refill it for Amanda. No need for her to fetch more water, not after everything she’d already done.
They crowded around the small, circular kitchen table. As a family of three, the Bontragers hadn’t needed a large table, but it was a tight fit for five. Amanda sat across from Josiah, with Thomas to her left and Rachel to her right. Andrew was sandwiched between him and Rachel.
“Let’s pray.” Amanda held out her hands, and Rachel and Thomas quickly entwined their fingers with hers.
Josiah swallowed. When had he last prayed, much less said grace before a meal? Since his mother’s death, his father had given up on praying, and on God altogether. Josiah hadn’t taken his grief that far, but he had come close over the years. And while he had joined the church when he turned twenty, it had been more out of a desire to fulfill his mother’s wishes than to become closer to the Lord.
“Mr. Josiah?”
He looked down at Andrew’s outstretched hand.
“Aren’t you gonna pray with us?”
Josiah glanced at Amanda, who gave him an expectant look. He noticed something else behind her eyes. Curiosity . . . and compassion. He averted his gaze and grasped Andrew’s small hand, then Thomas’s even smaller one. Regardless of his standing with the Lord right now, he didn’t want to keep the children waiting on their food.
“Josiah, will you pray, please?”
He looked at Amanda again, then glanced at the children. Shifting in his seat, he slowly bowed his head, wondering what he would say. Suddenly a prayer from childhood came to mind. “God is great God is gut let us thank Him for our food amen,” he said all in one breath, then released the boys’ hands.
“We say that prayer at home sometimes, Mr. Josiah,” Thomas remarked. “Although we don’t say it that fast.”
Everyone laughed, and he felt the tension drain from his body. Surveying the food on the table, his mouth started to water. Diagonal wedges of tuna fish sandwiches were piled high on one plate, a bowl of small sweet pickles situated beside it. A bag of potato chips lay open near Rachel, and in the center of the table was a pitcher half filled with lemonade. Either she or Rachel had already poured the drink into everyone’s red plastic cup.
Amanda handed him the plate of sandwiches. “Tuna fish. Hope you still like it.”
Nodding, he took two halves. “My favorite sandwich.”
“I remember.”
He met her gaze. Sweet heavens, she was so pretty. And so capable. Another quality he hadn’t been old enough to appreciate fully when they were younger. But then again, she had always approached everything with confidence, whether it had been baking cookies, climbing trees, or fishing in the stream two miles down the road. He couldn’t remember her ever failing at anything.
He passed the sandwiches to Andrew, who only took one half. Clearly the young boy didn’t care too much for tuna fish.
Soon everyone had what they wanted and started eating. Josiah tried to keep his attention focused on his food and not on the woman across the table who kept bringing out so many emotions in him.
But he was finding that impossible to do.
Josiah continued to confound Amanda. One moment she would see a glimpse of the Josiah she used to know—his deep-throated chuckle, his crooked smile, his kindness as he dealt with her brothers. She had watched him and Thomas through the front window in the living room as they had removed the nails, and the gentle yet respectful way he dealt with her six-year-old brother tugged at her heart. A natural with children, something he probably wasn’t even aware of. Although she had warned her brothers not to give Josiah a hard time, she knew their compliance had been due more to his treatment of them than to her directive.
; With Rachel’s help they had made quick work of surface cleaning in the kitchen, which had given her enough time to put together a decent lunch. Remembering how much Josiah had loved tuna fish sandwiches—which she didn’t particularly care for—she had asked Rachel to go home and bring her the ingredients for lunch.
Taking tiny bites of her half sandwich, she thought about his discomfort with praying. She had never noticed it before, at least that she could remember. But when they were kids, they said rote prayers, repeating what their parents said at the supper table and what they had heard during church. His rapid-fire prayer had tickled her brothers’ funny bones, but it made her curious. Had he joined the church? He dressed and lived as an Amish man, but that didn’t necessarily mean he had been baptized. More questions. She wondered if she would ever discover the answers.
Josiah, who had kept his head lowered during most of the meal, pushed the last bite of sandwich into his mouth. After washing it down with a gulp of lemonade from his cup, he looked at her. “Danki for the lunch. It was sehr gut.”
“You’re welcome.” She left her mostly uneaten sandwich on her plate, planning to throw it in the pig trough before she went home so it wouldn’t go to waste.
He pushed back from the table and stood. “I better get back to work.” Glancing at the boys, he added, “Andrew and Thomas have put in a full day already. They don’t have to help any more if they don’t want to.”
Seeing the disappointment on their faces, Amanda said, “I think they have enough energy to work a little while longer. Right, buwe?”
“Ya,” Andrew said, standing. “I still need to mow on the other side of the house.”
Thomas nodded his agreement.
Josiah stroked his chin, something she noticed he did when deep in thought. She surmised he was still reluctant to accept their assistance. But surely he saw how quickly they completed the work with all of them helping out.
“Okay,” he finally said. “Andrew, finish up the lawn. But then you’re done for the day. A bu’s got to have time to play. Thomas, you can come with me to the barn. I’ve got to feed the horse.”
“Does she have a name?” Thomas asked.
Josiah shook his head. “Not yet. Having trouble coming up with one. Maybe you can help me out with that too.”
Thomas smiled, his chubby cheeks puffing up.
Amanda’s heart warmed as she watched Josiah and her little brother leave the kitchen together. Josiah had said exactly the right thing to Thomas. Instead of dismissing him, he had included him, making him feel important and needed. Wasn’t that what everyone wanted?
She and Rachel cleared the table, which had been easy to do since they had used mostly paper products. “Why don’t we work on the pantry and cabinets next?” she said to Rachel. “Tomorrow I’ll tackle the stove.”
The rest of the afternoon went quickly. By late afternoon Andrew and Thomas had already gone home, presumably to grab a snack and play outside. Amanda planned to finish scrubbing down the inside of the cabinet under the sink before calling it a day.
She climbed practically halfway inside the deep cabinet, trying to reach the very back, when she felt something touch her shoulder. Jerking up, she hit her head. “Ow!” As she backed out of the cabinet, she said, “Rachel, don’t scare me like that!”
“Are you all right?”
Looking over her shoulder, she saw it wasn’t Rachel who had tapped her, but Josiah. Rubbing the top of her head, she nodded. “I’m fine.” Then she chuckled. “We seem to be in the habit of startling each other.”
He didn’t share her humor. “I’m really sorry.” He peered down at her, examining the sore spot. “Are you sure you’re all right? Sounded like you smacked your head pretty gut.”
“No worries. I’ve got a hard head.” She grinned. “Or so I’ve been told.”
His lips twitched, and she thought for a moment he might smile.
She started to rise, and his hand came under her arm to assist her. When she stood, she realized how close they were to each other. That funny tickle in her stomach that seemed to always appear when they were near each other returned. She met his gaze for a moment, unable to pull away. Once again she reminded herself that this was Josiah Bontrager. She had no business having these crazy feelings about him. And once again her heart refused to listen.
He pulled away first. Averting his eyes, he stepped back. “Glad you’re not hurt.”
“You could never hurt me, Josiah.”
His head shot up, and he stared at her again. And in that moment she saw something in the depths of his eyes. Pain. Stark and raw, it disappeared when he deadened his expression again. “You should be getting home. It’s near suppertime, and I’m sure your mamm and daed will want you there.”
“Ya, they’re probably expecting me,” Amanda said, still concerned about what he had unwittingly revealed. What could have happened to cause him such pain? Did he still grieve his mother’s death so deeply after all these years? Possibly, but she suspected that wasn’t all.
He pushed his straw hat farther back on his head. “Then I don’t want to keep you.”
“Why don’t you join us? I don’t know what we’re having, but Mamm’s cooking tonight, and I’m sure it will be delicious.”
“I wouldn’t want to impose.”
“You wouldn’t be imposing, Josiah. Even though you’ve been gone for a long time, you’re still a part of our family.” She stepped toward him. “That hasn’t changed, and it never will.”
Chapter Six
JOSIAH FOUGHT AGAINST THE REGRET AND LONGING coursing through him. More than anything he wanted to say yes to Amanda, to take her up on her invitation and have supper with her and her family. Especially with her. No matter how hard he tried to look at her through the filter of childhood innocence, he couldn’t do it. He didn’t see his friend standing in front of him, or even the object of a schoolboy crush. He saw a woman. A beautiful, kind, caring woman who was everything he wanted . . . and needed.
He never should have agreed to let her help him with the house. Getting the renovations done quickly wasn’t worth the pain her presence in his life caused. And spending the evening with the Grabers was the last thing he needed to do. He had gotten a taste of how wonderful being with a real family could be at lunch earlier that day. He didn’t want to put himself through that again, being on the outside looking in, knowing they had something he desperately wanted but couldn’t have.
“Danki for the invitation, but I planned to get something in town,” he said, turning his back to her. He couldn’t look at those beautiful hazel eyes anymore—eyes filled with invitation and promise. He doubted she realized how she looked at him, how her feelings were revealed so clearly to him. He hadn’t imagined the spark that had ignited when they stood so close together in the kitchen.
“You’re going to eat fast food? You’d prefer that over a home-cooked meal?”
No, he didn’t prefer that at all. But he had no other choice. “I have a couple more things to pick up in town,” he said, coming up with the excuse on the fly. And because he couldn’t stand there in his kitchen, wanting more than anything to say yes to any request she made of him, he headed toward the door. “Danki for everything.” Unable to help himself, he glanced over his shoulder.
Her bright expression faltered. “You’re welcome, Josiah. But you don’t have to keep thanking me. It’s a pleasure to help out a . . . neighbor.”
He turned and looked at her. The emotion in her eyes was anything but neighborly, and it tugged at his heart. He had to get out of there, fast. “Shops will be closing soon. I need to get to town before five.” He stood near the back door of the kitchen, gesturing with his outstretched hand for her to go.
“Oh. Okay.” She looked at him with uncertainty one more time before sliding past him and walking out the door.
Her arm brushed his, and he closed his eyes. He had faced challenges in his life—a lot of difficult challenges—but keeping his feelings for Amanda secur
ely wrapped was by far the hardest.
A moment later he followed her outside and surveyed his backyard. Andrew had done an excellent job mowing. The shorn grass was already turning brown, and tomorrow it would need to be raked up. But the boy had done the hard work. Pushing that mower through grass that had in some places reached his waist couldn’t have been an easy task.
Amanda faced him, the afternoon sun shining through the rustling branches of the oak trees behind her. He couldn’t help but breathe in the sweet scent of the freshly mown grass as he gazed at her. For a fleeting moment he forgot everything, concentrating on nature’s beauty as well as the natural beauty in front of him.
“So I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” she said. “Same time?”
Her words broke the spell. “I don’t—”
“Josiah Bontrager, if you tell me nee again, I’ll . . . I’ll . . . well, I don’t know what I’ll do, but you won’t like it! You’re making me ab im kopp, you know that?” Striding toward him, she stopped barely a foot away. “You never used to be like this, Josiah. Stubborn. Bullheaded. Cold. And above all, frustrating.”
He looked away, not liking her description of him even though it was accurate. “People change, Amanda.”
“Ya, but they don’t change into completely different people. Not unless . . .” Her tone softened. “Not unless something happened to them.” She moved closer. “What happened to you, Josiah?”
His jaw jerked, and he couldn’t face her.
She laid her hand on his shoulder. “Josiah, we’re friends. Whatever you went through, you can tell me. I want to help.”
The warmth of her hand seeped through the cotton cloth of his shirt. Stepping back, he forced her to drop her hand. “You can’t help me, Amanda. You can’t change the past.”
She sighed. “Nee, I can’t. But you don’t have to live in the past either.”
