by Amy Lillard
Because he was having Deborah over? Had Jamie requested something special for a special evening? She shook her head at herself. She was looking for things that weren’t there. Jamie didn’t want charity from anyone. Wouldn’t this be a form of charity? What about the other meals? She shifted the bags in her arms and rubbed the bridge of her nose.
“Headache?” Gracie asked.
“Trying to be,” Leah replied. And she had no one to blame but herself.
They made their way across the small strip of grass that served as Jamie’s yard and up onto the porch. Gracie knocked once on the door, then let herself in.
“Is he here?” Leah asked. She really didn’t want to run into him, but she wanted to find out everything she could about the mysterious Deborah. How had she not known that he was previously engaged? They were talking about courting and seeing if they could make their lives compatible. Why had he not mentioned that little detail? Was he, like the Englisch said, a player?
His kind face came to mind, with his sparkling eyes and charming freckles. He was the most wholesome player she had ever seen, if there was such a thing.
“I think he’s outside. I mean, his buggy is here. And Peter should be home from school.”
He might be outside or Deborah could have swung by in Sarah’s buggy to pick him up. Him and Peter.
Gracie set the Dutch oven on the worktable and motioned for Leah to do the same with the sacks. She did, then started unloading the food she had brought: beans, cornmeal, chicken, spices. She supposed Jamie didn’t have these things in the cabin. Not surprisingly, but it seemed as if Gracie had thought of everything.
Just then the back door flung open, and Peter plowed through. His limp seemed more pronounced today. Leah wondered if it had to do with his increased speed or whatever had put that frown on his face.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
Peter pointed out the window.
“Go check,” Gracie said, then started opening cabinets to find the things she needed. First out was the chopping board.
Leah couldn’t see anything unusual out the window, and she turned back to Peter.
He pointed to the front room. Maybe she needed to look out that window.
“I’ll be right back,” she said and made her way to the front of the house and the window that overlooked the yard.
A buggy was pulling up the drive with Deborah King holding the reins.
Leah stepped back out of the window and out of Deborah’s line of sight.
“What is it?” Gracie called from the kitchen.
Leah held one finger over her lips, thinking she would ease back into the kitchen without Deborah being any the wiser. Then she heard Jamie’s voice from outside and her footsteps stilled.
“What are you doing here?” He didn’t even bother to say hello to Deborah. That meant something, but Leah was hesitant to be too hopeful. It was possible that she hadn’t heard their first words to each other.
“Of course I thought I would come by and see you.”
Leah rolled her eyes and somehow managed to keep quiet.
“You should go home.” Jamie’s words were gentle but firm. He didn’t want Deborah there? Why not?
“I told you,” Deborah said, Don’t be silly clearly coloring her tone. “I’m not leaving until you agree to come back with me.”
“I’m not coming back.”
“You aren’t serious.”
He sounded serious enough to Leah, but what did she know? She had just met him a couple of weeks before. Leah had no idea how long Jamie and Deborah had known each other, but she’d bet it was a sight longer than that.
“I am.”
“You say that now—”
“And I’ll be saying it tomorrow.”
“Jamie, I know you want what’s best for Peter. We all want that. But if he doesn’t speak . . . well, you can’t force that.”
“I’m not trying to force it.” Once again his tone was patient. Just one of the things that made him such a good father to Peter.
“You’re putting a time limit on it.”
“Sally’s parents did that. Not me.”
“See?” Deborah’s voice sounded falsely bright. “That’s exactly why you should return to Ethridge.”
“Deborah.”
“Just think about it.”
“There’s nothing to think about.”
“Promise me,” she demanded. “Promise me you’ll think about it.”
“I promise.”
* * *
What else could he say? He was tired and hungry and ready to go in the house and eat whatever it was that smelled so good. Eunice had told him that she was sending Gracie up to cook for him tonight. He tried to talk her out of it, but once Eunice got her mind wrapped around an idea, there was no pulling her off it. Never mind that it might be a little awkward for him, and possibly even Gracie, Eunice sent her niece to his house to cook.
Now he was a little bit glad that she hadn’t listened to him. Something was smelling wonderful inside. All he had to do was send Deborah home, uh, back to Sarah’s, and he could rest and enjoy what was left of his evening with Peter.
“I’m glad you stopped by,” he said, standing and hoping she would do the same. Thankfully she did.
“I meant what I said,” she reminded him as they stepped off the porch and started toward her buggy.
“About?”
“I’m not leaving here until you agree to go back with me.”
“To Ethridge?”
“Ethridge, wedding.” She smiled. Once upon a time he had thought that smile was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. Now he saw through the tool she had used to make him forget anything and everything other than her.
“Deborah,” he started, not really wanting to get into it with her again, but not able to let it go.
“I know, I know.” She shook her head. “I know what your mouth is saying, but I also know what’s in your heart. I hurt you. I understand that. And you need time. But I’m not giving up on us.”
Before he could take in his next breath of air, she climbed into her buggy. She flashed him another of those shy-but-dazzling smiles as she pulled her buggy from in front of his house.
Jamie stood in the front yard and watched her drive away. He felt a little like he had when he had hit his head on one of the rafters in the barn when he was a teenager. Dazed, a little sick to his stomach, and filled with a dread he couldn’t name. He just knew nothing was ever going to be the same again.
* * *
“Will you get back in here?” Gracie called from the kitchen.
Leah watched Jamie watch Deborah drive away and tried to figure out what was going on inside his head. Was he missing her already? Was he wishing he had called her back? One thing was certain—for all his talk about not going back to Ethridge, the pair seemed pretty intimate just before she left.
They were a couple, and anyone could see that. They might have had their disagreements, but they were from the same place. They had a history. She couldn’t compete with that. And Deborah was the one thing that she could never be again: Amish.
“Leah,” Gracie called again. “Give that man some privacy and get in here and help me.”
Reluctantly, she moved away from the window and returned to the kitchen area.
“Sorry,” she mumbled and took up the masher to cream the potatoes. “It’s just that . . .” She stopped, shook her head, and started to work again. A moment passed. “I mean . . .” She stopped mashing. “They’re a couple, you know?”
“What are you talking about?” Gracie asked.
Leah was reminded that her cousin hadn’t been by her side, witnessing the familiarity between Deborah and Jamie. “They’re a couple.” She made sure her voice was low and didn’t draw Peter’s attention. He was sitting on the floor close behind them. She had to get this out of her system, but she didn’t want to taint Peter’s idea of the situation.
Gracie turned from stirring the gravy, a small frown wrinkling h
er brow. “Jamie and Deborah?”
“If you could have seen what I just saw.”
“And what was that?”
Leah sighed. “The two of them. Together. All . . . cozy.”
“Cozy?”
“Exactly. And after he started seeing you, then saying he wants to court me. And all along, he’s been waiting for her to come back.”
“Deborah?”
“Of course, Deborah.”
“I don’t like Deborah.”
Leah whirled around to look at Peter. He was still sitting on the floor, playing with plastic horses and a fence that looked to be made out of Popsicle sticks.
“Did he just . . . ?” Gracie dropped the spoon she had used to stir the gravy and approached the boy. He was galloping his horses all around his makeshift corral. Not once had he looked up after speaking.
Maybe she was hearing things. Maybe he hadn’t said anything at all.
Then they were both hearing things, because Gracie had witnessed it too.
“What was that?” Leah asked. “What did you say?”
Peter didn’t bother to look up from his play. “I don’t like Deborah.”
She drew back and cast a quick glance at Gracie.
Her cousin shrugged.
“Why is that?” she asked Peter.
He refused to answer, preferring instead to line up his horses in the improvised pasture.
“Peter,” she coaxed. “It’s okay to talk to me, to tell me and Gracie what’s on your mind. Would you like that?”
If he would or wouldn’t, she never knew. He continued to line up his horses. Unable to get him to speak again, Gracie and Leah went back to their cooking.
A little bit later, Jamie came in through the back door.
“Something smells good.” He took a deep breath. “We’re eating fine tonight, Peter.”
The boy nodded, but didn’t say a word.
“Jamie.” Leah wiped her hands on a dish towel and turned to face him. “Can I talk to you outside for a moment?”
“Leah.” Gracie frowned.
Jamie’s attention switched from one of them to the other and back again.
“Alone,” Leah continued.
“Jah. Sure.”
Thankfully Gracie just shook her head and turned back toward the stove.
Leah stepped out onto the back porch, which was little more than a handful of two-by-fours nailed to the back of the cabin. Being on it would offer them a little privacy while Gracie and Peter were inside, but not enough for peace of mind. Leah stepped out into the grass and walked a few more feet into the yard.
“Are you going to tell me why you wanted to come out here?” Jamie asked. “If this is about Deborah, I can explain.”
Leah raised her gaze to his. “It’s not about Deborah. Well, it is, but it’s not.” She shook her head.
“You’re not quite making sense,” he said in a gentlemanly tone.
Suddenly, what had seemed like a good idea thirty seconds ago didn’t seem quite so brilliant. But she had to tell him. He had to know.
“Peter talked.”
He looked as if all the air had been sucked out of his lungs. “What?” A smile toyed with the corners of his lips, but didn’t quite come to fruition. It was as if he wanted to be happy, but was scared to allow himself to be until he heard her say those words again.
“Peter talked. Inside. When we were cooking.”
Jamie’s face split into a wide grin. “That’s good! That’s wonderful!” He looked ready to dance a jig right there on his tiny porch. It was what he had been waiting for, and it would mean he got to keep Peter with him in Pontotoc. That was what they both needed.
He grabbed her hands, his joy infectious. “Do you know what this means?”
Leah couldn’t help but smile. “I do.”
“What did he say?”
“He said . . .”
Jamie patiently waited.
How could she tell him that Peter didn’t like Deborah? It would look as if perhaps she had put those words in his mouth, or at the very least, Jamie would know they had been talking about her in front of the boy. She took a deep breath. He could be mad all he wanted. Peter had spoken for the first time in months, and that was what they had to keep in mind. “He said he didn’t like Deborah.”
If Jamie found the news surprising, it didn’t show in his expression “That’s what he said?”
Leah nodded. “Listen, Jamie, I know that’s strange, but well, that’s what he said.”
Jamie’s joy seemed to leak out of him like air from a pinpricked balloon.
“No. It’s okay. The important thing is he spoke, right?”
Leah gave him an encouraging smile. “That’s right. Now we know he can speak, but something is making him not to want to.” Unless it was important enough to say. And for some reason he had chosen his dislike of Jamie’s ex-fiancée on which to break his silence. Did it mean that much to him?
And what did that do to their relationship?
It wasn’t any of her concern, except that she and Jamie might have had something special if things could have been different. But things weren’t different, and she had seen the intimate goodbye between Jamie and Deborah. Now Peter was talking, sort of. Would Jamie take him back to Ethridge now?
“Is that all?” Jamie asked.
“He said it twice.” That didn’t come out exactly the way she thought. She meant for it to be encouraging.
“And nothing else?”
“I’d tried to get him to talk, but he wouldn’t.” Now she sounded like a jealous liar.
“It’s a start, jah?”
Leah smiled. “That’s right. It’s a start.” So why did her heart feel like it was breaking in two?
* * *
“Will you and Gracie stay and eat?” Jamie asked as they headed back into the house.
Leah stopped, just long enough for him to wonder why the question needed such contemplation. “I probably should be getting back home.”
“Brandon?”
“Yeah. He’ll be home soon. He went to the library to study for a test with Shelly.”
Gracie turned as they came into the kitchen.
“You don’t have to go, you know.”
“Go where?” Gracie asked.
“Home.”
“I thought you would come back to the house,” Gracie said.
“I thought the two of you would stay here and eat.”
Leah shook her head. “Why would we do that?”
He made a gesture with his arm, encompassing all the bubbling pots and waiting food. “You cooked enough for an army.”
“Mamm just wanted you to have food for the week,” she explained.
“An army could never eat this much,” Gracie said with a laugh. “But seriously, we wanted you to have it for later.”
Jamie gave a quick nod. “I would bet that we can sit down and eat until we’re so full we think we’ll pop, and there would still be enough left for the rest of the week. What do you say, Peter? You want the girls to stay and eat with us?” He leaned a little closer to the boy. “And remember what I told you. Never give up a chance to eat dinner with a beautiful girl.”
Peter nodded enthusiastically, then scooped up his horses and Popsicle stick fences and deposited them in the basket by the couch. He dusted his hands, then stood there, waiting for the grown-ups’ decision.
“You wouldn’t want to disappoint a little boy, would you?” Jamie looked at Gracie and Leah in turn. They didn’t come better than these two. Gracie always helpful. Leah smart as a whip and able to tell it like it is. No matter what happened between him and Leah, he felt blessed to call both of them friend. “Come on,” he coaxed. “Don’t make us eat all by ourselves.”
“As long as you’re okay with that,” Gracie said.
“I’m okay with it,” Jamie said. “Are you okay with it?”
So one or two times they had discussed courting. But he hadn’t even held her hand. It wasn’t like h
im and Deborah. Not at all. And Leah—he would do almost anything to spend more time with her. How else was he going to convince her to quit being stubborn and continue on the way God had intended her to be: Amish?
“Sure.” Gracie flashed him a quick smile.
Jamie turned to Leah. What could she say but yes?
“Fine.” She crossed her arms and shook her head. “But right after supper, I have to go home.”
* * *
Peter sat quietly throughout the entire meal. Jamie wanted to talk to him about speaking to Leah and Gracie, but he felt that was a conversation better had when they were alone. For now, Jamie pretended he knew nothing as he ate, talked, and otherwise carried on as he normally would. He asked Peter the same questions he would have regardless, and Peter answered them in his silent way.
What would make a child not speak? Or speak once, only negative words, and not speak again? It was baffling. Unless Peter talked again, Jamie had no proof that he was speaking at all. Jamie couldn’t go back to Sally’s parents and tell them that Peter had said something. Until Peter was ready to talk to everyone, it was as if he hadn’t spoken and all.
“Don’t you think, Jamie?” Gracie asked.
Jamie pulled himself from his own thoughts and switched his attention to his blond dinner companion. “What was that?”
“The weddings are fixing to start,” Gracie said. “I think it would be more fun if they were held throughout the year, don’t you?”
“I don’t know. I never really thought about it, I guess.”
“Well, I for one think it’s better to have them year-round,” Gracie said. “Like the Englisch do.” She turned her attention to her cousin. “Leah?”
Leah looked up and shook her head. “Don’t get me involved in this.”
“I’m just saying,” Gracie said. “Sometimes you have two weddings to go to in one day, and you have to choose one over the other. If we had them year-round and maybe on days other than Tuesdays and Thursdays, maybe people would be able to attend all the weddings they wanted.”
“Or maybe not, because they have work to do in June,” Leah said.
“Maybe.” Gracie tilted her head to one side as if seriously contemplating the matter.
Jamie envied her in that moment. He wished he had nothing more pressing to worry about than on what days Amish weddings were held, and in what month. He chanced a look back over to Peter, who sat eating his food, quiet as usual. Why had he picked today to speak? And why about Deborah? Was Peter just getting more comfortable around Leah and Gracie? Maybe. But it didn’t make sense. He had been with Jamie longer and hadn’t spoken in front of him. But tonight, after supper was eaten and the mess cleaned up, he was going to have a long talk with Peter. And he could only hope that Peter would talk back.
