A Love Undone

by Cindy Woodsmall

“You trained Levi to help you back when he was no bigger and had no more muscle than she does. Am I right?”

  “I was young and careless about a lot of things back then.” Including his confidence that he could marry a young woman with a few emotional issues and help her get stronger. “Since Levi was thrown from a horse and fractured his neck a couple of years ago, I’m far more cautious.”

  “You aren’t trying to ride these horses. You just want them to get used to being near humans and touched by them so you can wash the horses.”

  “I’m not teaming up with an inexperienced woman.”

  “I tell you what. Why don’t you walk into the kitchen and be a horse’s rump to her about it? Would that satisfy you?”

  While Andy was growing up, his cousins had told many tales of wanting to avoid Uncle Lester, and Andy was beginning to see why. Since he rarely was around the old man, he’d not seen this side of him.

  “Uncle Lester, has it dawned on you that maybe I’m not the problem here?” Sometimes old men who had lived by themselves for years were just ornery. They had spent too much time without anyone challenging their perception of situations.

  “Look”—Lester placed the flat of his hand on the table and tapped it—“we’ve signed papers, agreeing to what we would do with these horses. We will calm them, then wash and shoe them as quickly as possible. The only other people available on short notice are Tobias, Hope, me, Naomi, and Jolene.”

  Tobias swiped the back of his hand across his mouth. “Sadie helps Levi, and they have fun.”

  “That’s different. Levi doesn’t work with rogue horses.” Some were high-strung and traumatized, but Levi would never put Sadie in a small space with an animal that could suddenly get out of control, and that’s where he and Jolene would need to be—in a small space with a terrified animal. Hope returned and began gathering butter and jellies and whatever was left.

  Andy picked up his plate and Tobias’s and started toward the kitchen.

  “Andy.”

  He paused.

  “Be nice to her.”

  Andy nodded and went into the kitchen.

  Jolene had her back to him, washing dishes. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d needed to tiptoe around a woman’s feelings—six years ago maybe. Eva’s response to all stress was to crawl into bed sobbing, and it was his job to calm her and cajole her out of it. “I … I hope you understand why I feel the way I do. It’s not you. I’m sure you’re quite capable in the right circumstances.”

  Jolene turned, lips pursed, eyes fiery with displeasure, but there were no tears, and she certainly didn’t give off a hint of a vibe that she might crumble. “I agree with you, and I told Lester that.” She scraped bits of food into the trash. “But with no other alternative available, let’s figure it out.”

  “Do you know anyone else who could lend a hand?”

  “No, Lester and I put some effort into it, but no one could miss time from work to help. I’m all that’s available right now.”

  “Surely you have a Daed or husband or boyfriend who would object to Lester’s plan of putting you in this kind of dangerous situation if he knew about it.”

  Hurt reflected in her eyes. “I have none of the above. Thanks for reminding me.”

  Jolene went to the hutch where there was a stack of white flat cardboard. She grabbed one piece and unfolded it while returning to the island. The container reminded him of an oversize pizza box, and she began putting pastries in it.

  He hadn’t meant to hit a sore spot. Who would’ve dreamed that a woman her age would already be without her Daed? Or that one so beautiful and skilled at running a home wouldn’t at least have a boyfriend? But despite feeling like the horse’s rump Lester had mentioned, he wasn’t wrong to try to protect her. Actually, her lack of someone to stand up for her made him more right.

  “I … I didn’t mean …”

  “Look, you need the help, and I’m all you’ve got.” She stopped filling the box and focused on him.

  Was she waiting for him to respond?

  He found himself staring into the sapphire eyes of an auburn-haired beauty who was studying him.

  His heart lurched, and he walked out of the kitchen.

  8

  The cab of the delivery truck smelled of stale tuna fish and decades-old cigarette smoke. Ray’s stomach churned a bit as the big vehicle lumbered toward their destination—Coldwell mansion.

  The driver leaned forward, rummaging through old invoices and trash between the dashboard and the window. “Stop squirming, Ray.”

  How could he? It stunk in here, and even if it smelled like fresh air, he wanted out. Out of the cabinetry business. Out of being the little brother Jolene and Josiah kept an eye on. Out of being hounded by his Mamm’s whispers.

  Josiah pulled his attention from the scenery. “Maybe he’d stop squirming, Chad, if you’d quit leaning across him.”

  Chad sighed and sat back, evidently giving up on whatever he’d been searching for.

  Josiah nudged Ray’s arm. “You okay?”

  He shrugged. “Feeling sort of nauseated.” Probably because he made himself sick.

  Josiah nodded. “Sorry about that. Did you eat?”

  “Jolene was gone, and I slept through the alarm.”

  “You know she left you a plate of food in the oven or fridge. Did you look for it?”

  “I sort of thought of it, but then I forgot when you arrived, rushing me to hurry up.”

  Josiah shook his head, chuckling. “Well, that means I win, right?”

  It was a running joke. Josiah often pulled some sort of trick or made a wordplay and then said, “I win.” And the other person would say, “Ya think?” It was a game Jolene approved of, one intended to make Ray think of ways to get back at Josiah. Ray won at times, and that was particularly fun. The game also made him better at understanding horseplay between others when he saw it, which was good, because a couple of times when Ray was younger, he didn’t realize what was going on between two people, and he’d thrown a few punches, angry at one person for picking on another.

  Josiah fiddled with the knob to the window. “We will get you something as soon as we can. This delivery could be interesting. I’ve heard about the Coldwell place for years.”

  Nothing here would interest him, and he longed to do some kind of job he was good at, but what? At least he wouldn’t be around for Old Man Yoder to scream at him. On those days Ray hated himself the most, and then his thoughts became a garbled mass of pain and confusion. It was as if being yelled at in front of people made him step back in time, to the months following his accident, when his sentences were choppy and childish.

  Last night his sister had suggested he help a man named Andy Fisher with some rogue horses. Yeah, right, as if somehow dealing with the unpredictable behavior and manure of wild horses would be any different than his current job.

  Chad started fumbling through the stuff on the dashboard again. Josiah dug under two smashed Coke cans and several stained papers and found a pack of cigarettes. He tossed them onto Chad’s lap. Chad mumbled something as he pulled a cigarette out of its package. Had the man changed out of the filthy dark-blue pants once in the last month?

  Three men were often needed for this kind of delivery—one Englisch driver and two Amish workers. Ray was supposed to stick with Josiah. He got into less trouble that way. The only reason Old Man Yoder screamed at him the other day was because Josiah wasn’t there. But when delivering cabinets, Ray always got sandwiched between the other two men. Always.

  Uncle Calvin had other drivers, ones who weren’t miserable with life in general. Is that what Ray would be like in thirty years—too disinterested in life to bathe or put on fresh clothes? Would he only find comfort in a few bad habits that grated on others’ nerves and end up smelling of smoke and stale beer?

  Surely not. He didn’t drink or smoke. Maybe he should start. It might help. He doubted that it could hurt.

  Chad pulled onto a gated driveway. He
reached through the open window and pushed a button on a keypad.

  “Yes?” A young woman’s voice came through the speaker.

  “Delivery from Keim Cabinets.”

  The woman didn’t say anything else, but the double-wide iron gates slowly began to open. Josiah smiled. “I’d like automated doors on the barn in winter.”

  Ray nodded. Josiah lived in a small house on his in-laws’ property along with several other families related to his wife, and besides other jobs, all the men also helped tend the milk cows. The barn doors were on rollers, and they froze open or shut during the winter, especially when the air leaked in around them.

  “Look at this place.” Ray couldn’t imagine the work that was involved in the manicured yard and flowery gardens, and the house was as big as several large barns. How many children did these people have?

  A young Amish woman came out the front door, waving a dishtowel. No doubt the help. There was no way she or any of her relatives lived here. Any Amish who had this kind of money, and there were some, would never live in this manner. She pointed to a side door and headed that way. Then she paused, squinted at him or Josiah, and waved.

  Josiah waved back, a halfhearted, embarrassed wave. “You know her?”

  She looked a tad familiar. “Maybe.”

  “Interesting.” Josiah elbowed him. “Very interesting.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  Chad maneuvered the huge vehicle, aiming to get the back of it as close to the right entryway as possible.

  “What?” Josiah propped his elbow on the open window. “You expect to live at home and remain single forever because you think differently than some of us? No one believes that, Ray.”

  “No one” meant his siblings, but if any of them could see the fractured, reckless, and rash thoughts inside his head, they wouldn’t be so naive. Some he battled against. Some he ignored.

  Once parked, they got out, and Ray waited as Josiah opened the back of the trailer. Ray felt more awkward than usual as the girl moved to the top of the brick steps and stood there watching him. He and Josiah carried the first piece down the ramp.

  As he drew closer, she whispered a one-syllable word. Had she said his name? He was unsure, so he said nothing. She grinned. “It’s so good to see you, Ray.”

  In the length of time it took her to say his name, his insides became as frozen as the pond he played on each winter, only this was missing all sense of adventure. No one beamed at him like this girl was, except maybe Jolene at times, but that didn’t count. Anyway, if he’d met this girl, and apparently he had, where had it been? When he said nothing, she turned and led the way.

  “Ray,” Josiah whispered while walking backward as he held his end of the four-foot-long cabinet, “you’re supposed to speak when someone talks to you.”

  Ray shrugged. All his thoughts had collided at once when she spoke to him, and responding hadn’t entered his mind. He studied the house as they walked through it. He’d never seen anything this grand—perfectly glossy floors, stately mirrors framed in silver, and inset lights in every ceiling. Clearly the owners liked dark wood and brushed silver. It was similar to other new houses with its sleek, clean lines and open spaces. But if the walls were papered with money, Ray figured it couldn’t scream wealth any louder.

  After walking for entirely too long, they entered a kitchen. When they set down the piece, the girl stepped forward. “I’ve laid burgundy runners here and there to mark your way. If the cabinets get heavy as you unload them and you need to set them down, please rest them only on the rugs provided until you enter the kitchen area.”

  Josiah peered back at the way they’d come in, probably taking note of the rugs. He nodded. “Not a problem. I’m Josiah Keim.”

  She wrung the dishrag in her hand, glancing at the clock before looking out a large bay window into a garden in the backyard. A woman in jeans held a basketful of flowers as she cut a purple one. The Amish girl returned her attention to Josiah. “Teena Miller.”

  Ray choked, coughing loudly. Teena? Memories flooded him. “Good grief. What happened to your hair?”

  Josiah made a face, shaking his head at him in a way he probably hadn’t intended Teena to see. Was Ray’s response wrong? Somehow impulsive? He didn’t think so. Wasn’t he just being honest?

  “My hair?” Confusion flickered through her eyes for a moment, and she touched her well-groomed hair that was parted down the middle and pulled back. “Oh. I stopped bleaching it.”

  “I guess you did.” He hadn’t realized her white-blond hair had come from a bottle.

  It’d been two years since he had to attend the Old Order Amish regional conference with Jolene. Three days of Bible and prayer meetings, ceremonies, and traditions. Thankfully, the youth were mostly required to keep the younger ones entertained and out of danger. He’d been sixteen at the time. Teena had been seventeen, and she’d been as broken outwardly as he was inwardly. So while all the others acted like life was a fun game, Teena and Ray hung out, talking about real things.

  “Ray,” Josiah mumbled under his breath, pushing the cabinet against him.

  “What?” Ray glanced at his brother before turning back to Teena. “It’s a lot darker.”

  She nodded, and unlike Josiah she seemed unperturbed by his awkwardness. Teena glanced at Josiah and then smiled at Ray. “He wants you to say that my hair looks nice, whether you mean it or not.”

  He never understood that. Why was lying discouraged with threats of hellfire on one hand and completely encouraged on the other? And people considered him the odd one for not understanding things like that.

  But this was one of the things he remembered about her. She wasn’t like the other girls—no double-talk or hesitancy to say what she was thinking. At the same time she didn’t baby him.

  As memories of their time together began to form more clearly, he felt something he hadn’t experienced in a long time—a moment of being comfortable inside his own skin. “Is that what you think I should say?”

  “I’m just glad you remember me. I’d forgotten I was a blonde the last time we saw each other, and I have only sketchy memories of parts of that weekend but very vivid ones of you.”

  It felt good to think he’d gotten at least one thing right in his life—giving her somebody to talk to when she needed it.

  As Josiah was leaving, he gestured toward the entry to the kitchen. “I’ll use a set of dollies to bring in some of the smaller cabinets.”

  Teena chuckled. “Is he a sunshine boy?”

  Ray had forgotten about that term she’d introduced him to. “Pretty much, ya.” Sunshine people saw life differently than Teena or Ray. When heavy rains stopped, they basked in the beauty of the rainbow and ignored the destruction and death the flooding had caused.

  Why did Josiah leave him here? He constantly nagged Ray to stay with him and stay busy. Should Ray volunteer to go after him, or did Josiah need a few minutes on his own? Jolene would know. She understood people and what she called “subtleties and decorum.” Ray was only familiar with the wad of anxiety in his gut and the roar of conflicting voices in his head, all telling him too much info at once. Jolene said people had numerous voices inside them at once and the trick was figuring out which thought held the wisdom for that particular moment and then following it.

  Teena got a glass from the cabinet and pushed it against a dispenser on the refrigerator, and ice came out. With the touch of a button, she got water. She held it out to him. “You kept our secret.”

  He took it. “Said I would.”

  “Lots of people say that. Few do it. My life is in a much better place these days.”

  He didn’t need anyone telling him what to say this time. He just had to say what he felt stirring inside him. “That’s good.”

  “How about yours?”

  “Still working at the shop, so everything is the same.” He couldn’t even say he was better at the job now than when he was sixteen.

  “Not completely the same.
” She held out her palm and raised it up a foot, and then she held her hands apart, like measuring a fish, but he knew she meant his shoulders. “You’ve been growing.”

  He straightened a bit. “Over a foot taller.”

  “You look good.”

  “You too.”

  Her eyes grew wider. “Denki. You’re better at picking out one thought inside your head and voicing it.”

  “A little. Jolene never quits working with me.”

  Teena put a coaster on the island and tapped it, letting him know to set the drink there when he was done. “After making the delivery today, will you be coming back here?”

  “Don’t know. Nobody’s said.” He didn’t think to ask. It never mattered.

  “I work for Mrs. Coldwell five days a week, and she said there will be at least a week of tearing out old cabinets and installing the new ones.”

  He nodded. There were a lot of cabinets in this oversize kitchen. Plus they were replacing the cabinets in all five of the bathrooms. “Uncle Calvin said it would take two weeks.”

  She glanced at the clock again and patted her hidden pocket, making it rattle like a child’s toy. “I need to take something to Terri … Mrs. Coldwell.” She pulled a small bottle of juice from the refrigerator. “When it’s time, would you like to take your lunch break with me in the garden? There’s a wrought-iron table and chairs toward the back of the property.”

  He shrugged. It was nice she still appreciated the time they’d had two years ago, but he had nothing to offer. It’d been a fluke that he’d made a difference in her life, and it wasn’t one he could duplicate.

  She opened the back door near the bay window. “Bye.”

  “Hey, Teena?” She closed the door and waited. She hadn’t seemed surprised Ray was here, and wasn’t it strange that Mrs. Coldwell chose their cabinetry shop, ninety minutes away by motorized vehicle, when other Amish cabinetry shops were closer? A person didn’t have to be good at math or at reading people to add up those things. “Did you have something to do with us getting this job?”

  She nodded. “Mrs. Coldwell began talking about wanting new cabinets maybe eighteen months ago, so anytime the subject came up, I suggested the shop you work for.”