Mandy stayed glued to the sofa while Dawdi answered the door. Noah would be working outside. She wouldn’t even need to make eye contact with him. She kept her attention on her knitting as Noah spoke to Dawdi.
“Just wanted you to know I’m here,” he said. “I unloaded the wood to the side of the house.”
“Okay,” Dawdi said. “Holler if you need help.”
Noah paused. “Could I talk to Mandy for a minute?”
Her heart galloped like a horse. What did he want with her? Just yesterday he’d told her to leave him alone. She knew too much about him. He’d get suspicious.
“Sure enough,” she heard Dawdi say. “She’s inside.”
“Would you ask her to come out?”
Come out? He definitely wanted to yell at her.
Mandy laid her knitting aside and slowly rose to her feet. Why hadn’t she gone for a long walk in the woods after breakfast? She could have avoided him all morning.
She dragged her feet all the way to the front door where Noah stood, looking too handsome to be real.
“Mandy,” Noah said, with a hint of anticipation in his voice. Was he looking forward to yelling at her?
She found the courage to look him in the eye. If he was mad at her, she’d not back down. She’d admit her error and dare him to show her some forgiveness. When she met his eye, she didn’t see anger burning in his expression like she thought she would. Instead, his eyes were tinged with sadness, as if he expected her to yell at him.
“Gute maiya,” she said, feeling stiff and unnatural, as if he were a complete stranger she didn’t trust.
He shifted his weight back and forth. “Could I talk to you for a minute?”
She nodded.
He attempted a smile. It came out more like a question mark on his face. “Outside?”
Mandy nodded again and pulled her black sweater from the hook. She put it on and stepped out onto the porch. She flinched as Dawdi, without warning, shut the door behind her. Alone with Noah Mischler again. How did this always happen?
“Hi,” he said, as if he suddenly felt bashful in her presence.
“Hi,” she replied.
With one hand behind his back, he fidgeted with his feet. “You know,” he stuttered, “I am such an idiot sometimes.”
“Okay?” she said, when it seemed he was done with the conversation.
“I am really, really sorry for getting mad at you yesterday.”
Oh. He wasn’t going to yell at her. “It was nothing.”
“It wasn’t nothing. I attacked you and assumed things that I shouldn’t have.”
She tried hard to keep the sympathy out of her voice. “You assumed that I wanted to hurt you.”
He ran his hand across his eyes. “Jah, because of Kristina. But I’m not blaming her. There’s no excuse for my behavior. I just don’t like talking about my family, that’s all.”
“I wasn’t mad.” Well, not very mad.
“Because it’s exactly what you expected of me. Because I’ve treated you rotten.”
“I wasn’t very nice either,” Mandy said, cringing at the memory of their confrontation on his porch.
“You were acting off what Kristina told you. Of course you thought I didn’t have a nice bone in my whole body.”
She curled one corner of her mouth. “Maybe you do.”
He studied her face before breaking into a cautious smile. “Maybe I don’t.” He pulled his hand from behind his back. He held a paper plate covered with tinfoil. “I apologize from the bottom of my heart.”
Mandy took the plate and lifted the tinfoil to reveal two pieces of French toast smothered with syrup and powdered sugar. “Ach, du lieva. Oh, my goodness.”
He grinned sheepishly. “French toast is kind of a weird gift, I know, but it was all I could come up with on short notice. I was going to bake your cookie dough and bring the cookies, but I ate every last one yesterday.”
He must have liked them. She tried to ignore the tingle of pleasure skipping up her spine. “No, this is perfect.” Looking at the thick, golden-brown slices of French toast made her stomach rumble from her lack of an edible breakfast this morning.
She sat on the top porch step and tossed the tinfoil from the plate. “You don’t mind if I eat them, do you?”
“Right now?”
She grabbed the corners of one slice and folded it like a sandwich. The syrup dribbled off the French toast as she held the plate underneath her chin and took a hearty bite. She managed to keep the dripping syrup off her face and on the plate, but her fingers were a sticky, gooey mess. “Umm,” she moaned.
Noah sat next to her with a look of restrained astonishment on his face.
“Delicious,” she said between greedy bites of her messy French toast sandwich. “Crispy and soft with a touch of cinnamon and nutmeg.”
Noah chuckled. “I’m glad you like it.”
She giggled at his expression. “It’s just that, well, we had Eggs Benedict for breakfast this morning.”
He grinned. “Say no more. I’m glad you won’t die of starvation.”
When she’d polished off the second piece of toast and her plate was a pool of syrup and powdered sugar, he pulled four napkins from his jacket pocket and handed them to her. “If you need them,” he said, taking her plate so she could wipe her hands.
“Denki.” She swiped the paper napkins across her palms, but nothing less than a hose was going to wash the stickiness off. “I think I need some water.”
His eyes seemed to glow as he studied her. “You are the strangest girl I’ve ever met.”
“My freckles aren’t that bad.”
He smirked. “You know how to use a crescent wrench, you spy on people, and you’re not afraid to eat in front of a boy.”
“I don’t usually spy on people.”
“And you fall into rivers,” he said.
She nudged him with her elbow. “I don’t usually fall in rivers.”
“Gute thing. I don’t like getting wet.”
“I’m glad you jumped in anyway.” She thought of him cradling her in his arms and broke out with goose bumps. How far had he carried her? Her face flushed with heat. Far enough. “Denki for saving my life.”
“You’ve already thanked me with a lump of cookie dough.”
“But it’s such a small gift in comparison.”
He twisted his lips into a teasing grin. “I really don’t want to speak of it ever again. And if you keep insisting on bringing it up, I will be forced to remind you of why you fell in the river.”
She lifted her eyebrows. “The most embarrassing day of my life.”
“So you see, it would be wise to forget it ever happened.”
Mandy nodded. “I’m sure I’ll be able to laugh about it in thirty or forty years. No wonder you think I’m strange.”
“But it’s not because of your freckles. I like your freckles.” The way he looked at her made her feel shy—probably because nobody had ever complimented her on her freckles before. Suddenly, she was glad that three full summers of lemon juice and sitting outside in the sun hadn’t faded them like Kristina said it would.
“I . . . I should go . . . do and go . . .” she stammered. What was it she needed to go and do?
“One more thing,” Noah said, growing serious. “Thank you for what you did with Buddy yesterday.”
“What did I do?”
“He asked about my dat. You diverted his attention.” His chocolate-brown gaze pierced right through her. “Why did you, after how rude I was?”
“I could tell it made you unhappy. I didn’t want you to be unhappy.”
“Why?”
Her face got warm again. “I like helping people.”
He nodded. “You like to fix things.”
“I suppose I do. If people could just see how unhappy they are and how easy it is to make things better, there’d be a lot fewer problems in the world.”
“So you came to my house to see if you could patch things up b
etween me and Kristina because you thought it would make me happier?” he said.
Why did her face have to heat up every time he looked at her like that? “Well, it would have made Kristina happier.”
“I know you don’t believe me, but she wouldn’t have been happier. Some things can’t be fixed.”
“Everything can be fixed.”
He stiffened. “Nae. Most things can’t. We must trust in God and let Him take care of the things beyond our control.”
Mandy felt as if they were on the cusp of an argument. She didn’t want to butt heads with Noah today. They were having such a pleasant time together. And she truly didn’t relish the thought of talking Noah into getting back with Kristina. Noah and Kristina would never suit.
“You’re right. We should never second-guess God.” That gaze was too intense. She looked down at her hands. One of them seemed to be glued into a permanent fist with maple syrup.
Noah relaxed his jaw, eased into a smile, and took the napkins she’d crumpled in her other hand. “We should get you to some water as soon as possible.”
They stood up. “I’ll wash at the kitchen sink,” Mandy said. “Would you mind opening the door for me? I might get stuck on the handle.”
He opened the door, and she took the sticky plate and napkins from his hand. He stood in the threshold and watched her as she threw the paper into the trash and washed and dried her hands.
Mammi still sat in her rocker knitting pot holders. “Noah,” she said, “are you finished with the shed already?”
“Nae. Haven’t started.”
“You’re a gute boy, to be sure. I’m sorry I can’t offer you a pot holder, but we’re saving them for Mandy’s suitors.”
He sprouted a self-conscious smile. “No apology necessary. I’m just here to build the shed.”
“I knew you’d understand.”
Noah looked uncertain as to whether he wanted to come in the house or go out. He nearly shut the door and then changed his mind and stepped back into the house. “I could use an extra pair of hands if you want to, Mandy.”
Mandy felt as if she would burst. He wanted her help. She tossed the dish towel onto the cupboard and practically sprinted out the door, mentally reviewing the different kinds of screwdrivers, just in case she’d be called upon to use one.
She’d already impressed him with her wrench experience. He’d be doubly astounded by her screwdriver knowledge.
Noah was as meticulous as he was handsome. On the uneven ground, he insisted on using a level for every board, and screws instead of nails. Dawdi’s shed would probably stand longer than the house. Mandy wondered why she had ever worried about the stove or the ropes or a house explosion. Noah worked as if a shelter for the propane tank was worth his best time and effort. He took great care with every corner and every surface.
Mandy handed him another screw so he wouldn’t have to hold them in his mouth while he worked. In truth, Mandy was completely useless to Noah’s project. He could certainly hold his own screws in the handy pocket in his tool belt. She saved him a little time by handing him tools and wooden slats, but she wasted more of his time with questions and idle conversation. Still, she kind of liked being with him, sometimes just being silent together, sometimes laughing at something funny.
She handed him another slat.
He glanced at her before screwing it into the frame. “I feel like I might be keeping you from something important,” he said. “If your mammi needs you in the house, I can fetch my own wood.”
“I’m okay,” she said, rocking back and forth on her heels. “Unless I’m bothering you. You said you like to be left alone. I can leave.”
A frown stumbled across his face. “I’m sorry I said that.”
“And I’m sorry I spied.”
The storm clouds parted, and he smiled. “We’re not to mention the spying ever again.”
“Or that you saved my life. Let’s just leave it in the past. Everything.”
“Okay. Everything.”
Mandy grabbed another handful of screws. “You know, Noah, I’d be perfectly comfortable letting you raise a baby.”
He snapped his head up and looked at her as if she’d eaten her shoe. “What are you talking about?”
“You’re so careful with everything.”
“I don’t even know how to change a diaper.”
“But if you had to, you’d figure out how to put one on. And then you’d mold it perfectly to fit the baby’s bottom. Diaper rash would never afflict your baby.”
His mouth curved upward. “If you gave me a manual I could probably do it. I’m not all that smart, but I know how to read directions.”
He pulled his battery-operated drill away from the slat he was working on and knelt beside his toolbox.
Mandy stood ready with a board in one hand and a level in the other. “What do you need?”
“A different drill bit.”
“I’ll find it,” she said. “What size?”
They both heard a bell. Mandy peered around the corner of the house and caught her breath. She’d been having so much fun that she’d forgotten about Kristina. Her best friend ambled up the lane walking her bicycle, occasionally flicking the bell with her thumb to make it tinkle. The lane was steep enough that most bikers didn’t try to pedal up the hill.
“Oh.” The word escaped her lips before she could pull it back.
“Who is it?” Noah said, squarely focused on his shed.
A thread of guilt wrapped itself around Mandy’s throat. How would Kristina react if she knew Mandy was spending time with the “enemy”?
Or worse. What if Kristina knew Mandy was enjoying spending time with Noah? Kristina still loved him. Would she be jealous?
Should she be jealous?
Mandy tossed her handful of screws into the bucket. Of course not. She had recently come to think less harshly of Noah, but Kristina was still her best friend. Mandy would never do anything to jeopardize that friendship.
“It’s Kristina,” Mandy said. Did she sound disappointed?
Noah instinctively stepped back, even though Kristina couldn’t see him from this angle. He crossed his arms over his chest so that the drill pointed into the sky. With the resentful frown etched into his face, he looked like a brick wall, impossible to topple. Whatever kind of attack Kristina planned to use, he was ready.
Mandy’s mind raced for a way to make this awkward meeting less uncomfortable for everybody. Kristina still hadn’t seen Noah. Maybe she didn’t have to know he was here.
“Krissy,” Mandy called, waving and skipping across the lawn to greet her.
Breathing as if she’d run a race, Kristina nudged the kickstand with her foot and parked her bike right in the middle of the lane. “That is a terrible hill. Somebody should make it flatter.”
“It’s not gute with a bike.”
“Next time I’ll ask Mamm if I can bring the buggy.” She pulled a water bottle from her plaid bag and took a swig. “I’m ready to help with the spaghetti sauce. Do you have a gute recipe? My mamm makes the best spaghetti sauce.”
“I don’t know if it’s a gute recipe,” Mandy said, taking Kristina’s elbow and guiding her in the direction of the porch and away from Noah’s hiding place. “It always seems to taste the same no matter what recipe we use.”
“Well, if you want, we can use my mamm’s recipe. I’ll show you how we do it.”
“Okay,” Mandy said, nudging Kristina toward the front door.
“What were you doing out here?” Kristina said.
“What? When?”
“Just now. What were you doing when I came up the hill? Something around the corner of the house.”
Mandy tugged more forcefully on Kristina’s elbow as she paused to peer in the forbidden direction.
“Are there still prickly bushes around that side?” Kristina asked. She slid her elbow free of Mandy’s arm and marched around the corner of the house.
Mandy followed as if to catch her befo
re she went over a cliff. “Krissy, wait.”
Kristina stopped short when she caught sight of Noah, still standing as if he were rooted to the spot. She narrowed her eyes and lifted her nose in the air so far she might have been looking for birds.
Huffing her displeasure, she abruptly turned on her heels and hooked her arm around Mandy’s elbow. With her back as stiff as a board, she marched to the house, dragging Mandy with her.
Mandy glanced back at Noah and shrugged before Kristina spirited her away. Noah remained immovable except for the twitching muscles of his clenched jaw.
Chapter Six
Kristina raced into the house with Mandy in tow. Breathlessly, she slammed the door and leaned her arms and cheek against it as if she had just run a marathon and was too exhausted to stand on her own. She panted with excitement as a smile formed on her lips. “Ach, he is so cute.”
“I’m sorry if that made you feel uncomfortable. He’s building a shed for—”
Kristina pushed away from the door, yanked on Mandy’s arm, and dragged her to the kitchen window. She craned her neck to gaze around to the side of the house. Mandy heaved a sigh. Kristina wouldn’t be able to see a thing from that angle. “Do you think he noticed how mad I was?” Kristina said.
“Maybe.”
She planted her hands on her hips. “Gute. He’ll not get one kind word from me until he apologizes for what he did.”
Mammi stood at the sink up to her elbows in soapy water. “Hello, Kristina. It’s very nice of you to help us do spaghetti sauce.”
“I don’t mind,” said Kristina, turning her attention back to the window.
A row of quart jars sat next to the sink. Mammi dunked each one in the soapy water, swished the water around inside the jar, and then rinsed them in the clear water sitting in the second sink. “How is your mother feeling?” Mammi asked without looking up from her task.
“She’s getting her gallbladder out day after tomorrow,” Kristina said.
The lines in Mammi’s forehead deepened. “So soon? I’ll have to think of something nice to bake for your family. Can people without gallbladders eat haggis? I’ve got a new international recipe book. Haggis is from Scotland. You use all the innards of the sheep that usually get thrown out.”
Huckleberry Harvest (The Matchmakers of Huckleberry Hill Book 5) Page 8
