by Amy Clipston
“Danki,” he said. “You’ve been a great help to him. I appreciate it.”
Her face clouded. “I want to apologize again. I was out of line that day I came to your shop and complained about him.” She wrung her hands as she spoke. “John is a gut bu, and I enjoy working with him. I never should’ve confronted you, and Malinda had warned me not to do it. Both Emily and Malinda told me my stubbornness got the best of me, and they were right.”
Rachel’s pink lips quivered, and Mike held his breath, hoping she wouldn’t cry. He couldn’t stand to see women cry. It made him uncomfortable, and he never knew what to say.
“I’m just too outspoken for my own good,” she continued. “I’m really sorry for everything I said. I hope you can forgive me.”
“It’s forgiven,” he said, wiping his hands on his trousers, brushing away the wood dust. “It’s our way to forgive, so you shouldn’t have worried about it at all.”
She sniffed and swiped her fingers over her eyes. Tension hung in the air between them. He gritted his teeth. Please don’t cry.
“I know it’s our way to forgive,” Rachel continued with another sniff, “but people don’t always forget. I was just frustrated, but then I realized I was the real problem.” She pointed to her chest. “I needed to be a better teacher instead of blaming John for the problems he was having. I decided to just do my best and encourage him instead of blaming you for the problems.” She paused as if contemplating her thoughts. “I’ve been concerned that every time you look at me, you’ll think about the awful things I said to you. I didn’t mean them.”
“You should stop worrying about it,” he said. “It’s not important. John is doing better, and that’s what matters.”
As she wiped away a tear, he sighed. He needed to apologize too, and now was as good a time as any.
“I owe you an apology also.” Mike leaned against the workbench. “I shouldn’t have lost my temper with you.”
Rachel shook her head and sniffed. “No, I deserved it.”
“No, you didn’t.” Mike grimaced. “Mei dat wouldn’t have been froh with me if he’d heard me yell at a maedel the way I did. So I’m sorry too.”
She nodded and then gave him a shy smile. “I suppose I should call my driver now.”
He nodded. “All right.”
“Danki.” She hesitated for a moment. “Would it be all right with you if I come back to tutor John again next Saturday? I think the one-on-one without the distractions of the rest of the class is really helpful for him. He can concentrate better when it’s just him and me.”
“Ya,” he said. “That would be fine. I’ll pay you to tutor him.”
“That’s not necessary.” She jammed a thumb toward the front of the barn. “I’m going to go call my ride.”
“All right.”
She padded across the hay toward the front of the barn. As she disappeared from view, an awkward feeling settled over Mike. Was it rude for him to stay in his workshop? Should he have led her to the front of the barn and showed her where to find the phone, or would it have been ruder for him to hover over her?
He ran his hand down his face, then returned to sanding.
Why was he so uncomfortable around maed? Was it because he hadn’t had a girlfriend since he was a teenager? But Rachel wasn’t his girlfriend; she was John’s teacher. All the same, Rachel was a guest in his home, and Mike needed to be friendly and make her feel comfortable. Why did he feel as self-conscious as a teenager when he attempted to make conversation with her? He didn’t have any hesitation when he spoke to his cousins.
But they were family. Rachel was a stranger.
“My driver will be here in about fifteen minutes,” she said, suddenly appearing in the doorway again. She stepped over to him and studied the shelf again. “Who taught you how to work with wood?”
“Mei dat.” He dropped the sandpaper on the bench and cleaned his hands with a rag. “He learned from his dat.”
“And your dat owns Bird-in-Hand Builders, right?” she asked, perching on the stool across from him. It was the stool where his dat used to sit when they worked on projects together before his kidney disease progressed.
“Ya,” Mike said, studying the shelf while he spoke. “He and his bruder, Timothy, started the business about thirty years ago. Mei onkel, my cousin Sam, and I still work there, along with a few freinden. Mei dat worked there until he was too ill.”
He ran his finger over the shelf. “I’ve always loved to work with wood. I work with it all day, and I sometimes come out here to relax by working on my own projects. When my days get too stressful, it helps me. I even come out here late at night when I can’t sleep. Tossing and turning in my bed doesn’t help me, but coming out here does. It’s like my private therapy, I suppose.” The revelation surprised him. He’d never opened up to a maedel this way. He glanced up and found her watching him, her bottomless brown eyes full of sympathy.
“When did your dat become ill?” she asked, folding her hands on her lap.
“He was diagnosed with kidney disease three years ago,” Mike said. “It came as a surprise since it’s not hereditary. They think it was environmental, that he came in contact with a chemical that caused it. The disease progressed quickly, and he went on dialysis about six months ago.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” She shook her head. “How often does he have to do dialysis?”
“He has treatments at the dialysis center three mornings a week. My cousin Marie usually goes with him so I can work.” Mike’s fingers sought the edge of the workbench as he reflected on how the dialysis affected his father. “The treatments purify his blood and clear the toxins out of his body, but they wear him out. Some days he comes home and just sleeps. It saps the life right out of him. It’s difficult for me to see him so frail, but I know he needs the treatments to live.”
“Can he get a kidney transplant?” Rachel’s expression was full of hope, and it sent warmth coursing through his soul.
“Unfortunately, no.” He shook his head. “I’ve offered to be tested as a possible donor, but mei dat isn’t strong enough to endure the surgery. His heart is too weak. The doctors have said Dat will live longer if he stays on dialysis.”
“Ach, that’s so bedauerlich,” she said softly. She was silent for a moment, as if she were mulling over the information about his father. “It must be a challenge for you to have to take care of your dat and your bruder. You’re carrying an enormous load for your family.”
“My cousins help.” He shrugged off her comment as if it weren’t a big deal at all. “You’ve met Marie. She and her schweschder take turns coming over. They’ve been helping me for years. Their mamm also helps if they aren’t available. Mei mammi lived with us after John was born. She raised him until she passed away a couple of years ago. My cousins took over after she was gone.”
“I’m sorry you lost your mammi and your mamm.” Rachel’s expression became hesitant. “May I ask you a question?”
“Ya.” He nodded.
“What happened to your mamm?”
Mike drew in air through his nose as he thought about his mother.
Rachel’s eyes widened with panic. “You don’t have to tell me,” she said quickly, holding out her hands as if to stop him from speaking. “It’s none of my business. I say things without really thinking them through sometimes, and I don’t mean it.”
“It’s okay.” He brushed dust off his trousers again to avoid her eyes. “Mei mamm died when I was ten.”
Rachel’s brow furrowed. “She died when you were ten? I don’t understand.”
“John and I had different mothers,” Mike explained. “Mei mamm was Esther, and mei dat married Vera when I was sixteen.”
“Oh.” Understanding softened her features. “Was your mamm ill?”
“No,” Mike explained. “She was in an accident. She was walking to a friend’s house for a quilting circle. A car came speeding down the road, turned the corner too fast, and didn’t see her. Sh
e was killed instantly when the car hit her. I was at school when it happened. A neighbor came to get me. I was devastated. I had kissed her cheek before I left for school that morning, and I never imagined that would be the last time I saw her.”
“Ach, that had to be so difficult for you.” Rachel’s eyes shimmered with sympathy. “And then you lost your stepmother?”
“Ya, that’s right, a couple of years after Dat married her. Vera wanted to give birth to John at home with a midwife. Something went wrong, and the midwife yelled for my father to call the rescue squad. The EMTs didn’t get here in time,” he said softly. “She was already gone by the time they reached the bedroom. John was perfectly fine, but we lost her.” He met her eyes as she gasped, cupping a hand to her mouth.
“I’m so sorry,” Rachel said, her eyes sparkling with tears in the low light. “I can’t imagine how difficult that was for you and your dat. Your dat had a newborn and lost his fraa. That’s devastating.”
“Ya, it was. But as I said, mei mammi was still alive back then, and she helped a lot. Mei aenti did too. But it was still difficult.”
Rachel’s bottom lip quivered, and he gave her a bleak smile, hoping to stop her tears.
“I had no idea,” she whispered, her voice shaky.
“We make do,” he continued. “I try to handle as much as I can so I’m not a burden on my cousins.”
“You can’t possibly manage it all yourself.” Rachel gestured around the shop. “You have a farm and a business to run, and your dat is ill. Plus John needs attention. You shouldn’t feel like a burden at all.”
Mike nodded as he studied her expression. He found both sympathy and understanding in her eyes.
Rachel glanced toward the corner of the shop where a few shelves and picture frames sat. “Do you sell these?”
Mike stood and picked up a shelf. “Ya, I usually wait until I have about a dozen and then take them to the store. They sell fairly well.”
She nodded and smiled. “You’re really talented.”
“Danki.”
They stared at each other for an awkward moment, and the only sound came from birds tweeting in the trees around the barn.
Rachel suddenly popped up from the stool. “Well, I’ll finish with John and pack up my things.”
“I’ll walk with you,” he offered.
Mike followed her into the house where she sat down next to John and began to talk to him about the book he was reading. Mike washed her brownie pan and placed it on the counter beside the basket. While he finished washing the rest of the dishes, he stole several glances over his shoulder to peek at Rachel and John.
The kitchen window was open a crack, and when Mike heard the crunch of tires on the rock driveway, he turned toward Rachel. “Your driver is here.”
“Oh.” Rachel closed the book and then touched John’s arm. “You did great today. We’ll work on reading more at school next week.”
John smiled and hugged her, and Mike’s chest constricted. He hadn’t seen John be that affectionate with anyone outside of close family members. What was it about Rachel that drew his little brother to her?
Rachel packed up her books while Mike gathered up the basket and the brownie pan.
“We’ll walk you out,” Mike said, motioning for John to head toward the back door. He followed Rachel and John out to the waiting van. He nodded at the driver before placing the pan and basket in the back seat and then faced Rachel.
“Danki for coming over today, and danki for the meals. I appreciate all you’re doing for John.”
“Gern gschehne,” she said before climbing into the van.
Mike and John said good-bye and waved as the van steered toward the main road.
John trotted toward the wooden swing set and fort their uncle Timothy and other friends from Bird-in-Hand Builders had created for John when he was four.
Mike sauntered back into the house and found his father napping in his favorite chair with the newspaper draped over him like a blanket. Mike picked up the paper, and Dat snored in response. As Mike folded the paper and set it on the end table, his father’s eyes fluttered open.
“Sorry,” Mike said. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“It’s all right.” Dat cupped his hand over his mouth as he yawned. “Is Rachel still here?”
“No, she just left.” Mike sat on the sofa beside Dat’s chair.
Dat smiled. “She’s a sweet maedel.”
Mike nodded as he picked a piece of lint off his trousers. “Ya, and she’s gut with John.”
“She’s also schee.” Dat’s voice held a hint of mischief.
Mike’s eyes met his father’s coy grin. “What are you getting at, Dat?”
“Is she your girlfriend?”
Mike blinked as he studied his father’s expression. Does Dat look hopeful?
“No, she’s not my girlfriend. I told you. She’s John’s teacher.” Maybe his father was confused. Was he developing dementia? Could it be a side effect from the dialysis treatments? Alarm gripped him.
Dat gave him a wry look. “I know she’s John’s teacher, but I think she likes you.”
“What?” Mike asked with surprise. Dat is definitely befuddled. “She doesn’t like me. She’s only concerned about John.”
Dat chuckled. “My kidneys may not work, but my eyes do, Michael. That maedel likes you. You should find out which youth group she attends and go to a meeting.”
Mike shook his head. “You know I don’t have time to go to youth group.”
“You should make time,” Dat said, patting Mike’s arm. “It’s not natural for you to be cooped up with John and me at your age. You should be out meeting other young people and looking for a fraa.”
“I’m not worried about that.” Mike rested his ankle on the opposite knee and then gripped his leg. “Besides, I can’t leave you and John alone for hours just so I can go sit and talk to people. That’s not right.”
“You can ask Sam to come and sit with me while you go,” Dat suggested as if it were the most logical solution to the problem. “Sam likes to talk to me, and he’s great with John. It will be fine.”
“I don’t want to ask Sam to do my job,” Mike insisted. “My obligation is here with you and John, and it’s where I want to be.” He pointed to the floor. “This is where I belong.”
Dat’s eyes gleamed with sadness. “I don’t want you to put your life on hold for me. I’m not going to be here forever, and you need to live, Michael. I want you to get married and have a family. It’s what you’re supposed to do.”
A lump expanded in Mike’s throat, and he tried to clear his throat against it. He didn’t want to think about losing his father. “You’re going to be here a long time, Dat, and I’ll be by your side taking care of you.” He stood. “Are you hungry? Do you want a snack before supper?”
“No, danki. Those appeditlich brownies filled me up.” Dat smiled again. “Is there any pizza left?”
Mike nodded. “Ya, there are a few pieces. John and I had two, and Rachel only ate one.”
“Could I have a piece of pizza for supper?” The anticipation in his father’s eyes made him look like a little boy, possibly even a boy John’s age.
“You’re not supposed to have that much cheese, Dat. You know the doctor told you that.” Mike suddenly felt like a parent lecturing a child.
“Just one piece?” Dat asked. “I haven’t had pizza since I was a kind.”
Mike smiled, but shook his head. “No, Dat. We need to watch your diet so your lab tests improve. How about I make you a sandwich?”
“Fine, fine. Danki.” Dat looked toward the windows. “Could I sit outside and watch John play?”
“It’s chilly out,” Mike warned. “The sun is warm, but the breeze is a little cold.”
“I don’t mind. I’ll take a blanket.” Dat gestured toward the window. “I want to spend some time with John.”
Mike picked up an old quilt his grandmother had made and then pushed the wheelchair out t
o the porch. He placed the quilt on Dat’s legs and started back inside.
“Wait,” Dat called. “Sit with me for a moment, Michael.”
Mike nodded and sat down on the swing beside his father. A smile turned up the corners of his father’s lips as John pumped his legs and swung higher and higher toward the bright blue sky.
As a chilly breeze soaked through Mike, he silently thanked God for his father and brother. He was certain this was where he belonged.
But if that were true, why did his father’s words about looking for a wife echo deep in his soul?
CHAPTER 11
WHEN SHE ARRIVED HOME, RACHEL FOUND HER MOTHER AND Emily working on a king-size Lone Star quilt in the sewing room.
Mamm looked up from her pinning as Rachel stepped into the room. “How did it go with John and Mike?”
“It went fine.” Rachel sat down on a chair across from the sewing table.
Emily smiled. “Did John like the pizza?”
“He loved it. Mike had to stop him from eating the entire pie himself,” Rachel said while absently running her fingers over the smooth arms of the wooden chair. “I also worked with John a little on his reading and math. He’s doing much better. I feel like he’s almost ready to read aloud in class.”
Rachel recalled the grief in Mike’s powder-blue eyes as he shared the stories of his mother’s and stepmother’s deaths, and shame tightened her chest. How could she have been so rude to him the first time she met him? She had no right to criticize him when she hadn’t known his story. She hugged her arms to her middle.
“Was iss letz?” Emily asked while still pinning. “I thought you said the visit went well.”
“It did go well.” Rachel slumped back in the chair. “It went really well, but I feel so guilty.”
“Why do you feel guilty, mei liewe?” Mamm asked, placing the corner of the quilt in her lap and focusing her attention on Rachel.
“Well, I told you I was rude to Mike when I first met him,” Rachel began as her fingers sought the seam of her rose-colored dress. “He told me how he lost his mamm today.” She explained how she’d sat in his woodshop with Mike while he talked about how his mother and John’s mother had died.
