“Sorry about that,” she said, her hand touching her kapp as she tried to steady her nerves.
“It’s all right.”
The despondent tone of his voice caught her attention. She looked up to see his glum expression.
“What are you doing here?” he asked flatly.
“We came to see how your daed and mami were doing.” And because she couldn’t stop herself, she added, “Don’t worry, I didn’t come to see you.”
He ran his hand through his hair, revealing a yellowish bruise on his forehead. A reminder of the accident. As if either one of them needed another one. “Gut. That makes me happy.”
But he didn’t sound anything close to being happy. “What do you mean by that?”
Shoving past her, he headed to his damaged buggy. “Never mind.”
Turning around, she followed him. “That’s not an answer. I want to know what you meant.”
He knelt beside the buggy’s broken axle. “You know, Rachel, the world doesn’t revolve around you.”
“I never said it did.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Excuse me?”
Remaining in his crouched position, he looked up at her, any remnant of his trademark gloating and teasing gone from his crystalline blue eyes. “Go inside. I’m not in the mood for your drama.”
She crossed her arms. “I am not dramatic.”
He glanced at her folded arms, then went back to inspecting the axle.
Changing her stance, she moved toward him. “This is about the other night, isn’t it? You’re blaming me for what happened.”
“Not your fault we got hit by a car.” He jerked on the axle, checking its stability. It immediately came loose. He groaned.
“I’m not talking about the accident.” Why was she even bringing this up? She’d told herself that she didn’t want to see Tobias, but here she was, not only seeing him, but also trying to engage him in a conversation they really shouldn’t be having in the first place. What was wrong with her? “I think you know what I mean.”
He stopped his inspection and rested his forehead against the lower side of the buggy. The motion pushed his hat farther back on his head. “That’s not your fault either,” he said quietly.
“Ya, it is. I should have never kissed you. I must have knocked my head really hard to do something as crazy and stupid as that.” She looked away. “Not like it was good or anything.”
Slowly he rose from the ground and looked at her, eyes filled with fury. She’d never seen him so mad before.
“You’re a mean, miserable woman, Rachel Byler. I don’t know how—or even why—Christian puts up with you.” He brushed her aside and stormed off, but not before turning around and adding, “And for the record, I’d kiss a stinkin’ pig before I’d kiss you again.”
Ouch.
Her eyes pricked as she watched him walk into the woodshop and shut the door in her face. He’d called her mean? He was the cruelest man on earth. She didn’t care if she never saw him again. In fact, she’d prefer it.
The sound of a screen door slamming made her turn around. Tobias’s younger sister, Elisabeth, approached. Like Tobias, she had blue eyes and blonde hair, along with one of the tiniest waists Rachel had ever seen. When she neared, Rachel could see her eyes were red rimmed from crying.
Rachel met her halfway. “Are you all right?”
Elisabeth nodded. “I’m fine. Just upset over what happened to Moriah. We all are. It’s been so hard on her. Mami and Daed aren’t taking it too well either.”
Her words caused Rachel’s heart to stop. How could she have been so dense? No wonder Tobias was angry with her. She’d been so caught up in thinking about that kiss, so self-centered and defensive, she had forgotten the reason she and her mother had even stopped to visit. His sister’s husband had just left her, and instead of trying to offer him comfort, she’d picked another fight.
He was right. She was a miserable person.
“My parents are with Moriah at the Millers,” Elisabeth said. “But your mami is helping us make some cookies. She said it will keep our mind off of everything. Even Lukas and Stephen are helping, and they hate to cook.”
“That’s gut,” Rachel said absently, glancing over her shoulder at the woodshop.
“I’ve been sent to get you.”
Rachel focused on the woodshop for another second, then turned to Elisabeth. “Tell my mudder I’ll be right there.”
The young woman nodded. “I will. Oh, and if you see Tobias, tell him we’re making his favorite—oatmeal chocolate chip.”
Rachel nodded at Elisabeth and watched her hurry back to the house. But she couldn’t follow her inside, not just yet. Not before talking to Tobias one more time and apologizing for being so insensitive. She walked to the woodshop door and placed her hand on the knob, only to hesitate turning it.
Maybe she should leave things be. Tobias was mad at her, but he would get over it. Besides, what did she care if he was angry? He’d been mad at her off and on for years.
But this time was different. He was hurting over his sister, and she’d only made things worse. She had to apologize, at the very least. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door.
He stood in the middle of the shop, sifting his hand through the small pile of wood shavings that lay on a long, tall, tool-nicked table. An unfinished cradle perched next to him, amid millions of tiny flecks of sawdust. The scent of freshly cut wood enveloped her as she breathed in.
“What do you want?” he asked, not looking up.
Rachel looked at his fingers as he continued to push around the shavings. Long, strong fingers attached to a large, calloused hand. The hand of an artist. She’d seen his work before and had grudgingly admitted he had a gift with wood. Always knowing that he had yet another talent had chafed her in the past, but thinking about it now only brought her admiration. Instead of maligning his talent, she should have been appreciating it. Just one more indication of what a rotten person she was when it came to him.
Finally, he glanced at her, his expression lifeless. “What?”
The sawdust made her itch, and she rubbed her nose with her palm. Then she quickly thrust her hands behind her back. “I, um, well, I want to apologize. To you.”
He shrugged, then went back to messing with the shavings. “Fine. You apologized. Now leave.”
Once again his response triggered a tiny spark inside her, but she pushed it down. He had been right; this wasn’t about her. It was about him and his family, a family he obviously deeply cared about. And she needed to show him that she understood.
She didn’t stop walking until she was right next to him. “Tobias, I’m really sorry. Especially about your sister. That’s a terrible thing to happen to her.”
Turning, his gaze met hers, its steeliness softening. “I appreciate that, Rachel. Been hard on her.”
“Hard on everyone, I’m sure.”
He nodded, his lips flattening in to a thin line. “All my life I’ve been taught that fighting is wrong, that hitting another person, no matter what, is forbidden. But right now I could hurt Levi Miller with my bare hands for what he’s done to Moriah.”
“No one would blame you if you did.”
“Yes, they would.” He let out a flat chuckle. “You know they would.” With a flick of his hand he swept the wood shavings off the table. They floated and shimmered to the floor.
She couldn’t argue with him, because what he was saying was true. “So what are you going to do?”
“Nothing. There’s nothing I can do. Moriah moved back home yesterday. I guess things will go back to the way they were before she was married.”
Yet they both knew things would never be the same. Not for his sister . . . and not for them. Their kiss had changed that.
They stood together in silence for a moment, Tobias staring at the mess on the shop floor in front of him. “Guess I better clean it up.”
“I’ll do it.” Rachel quickly went to the back of the
shop and found the broom. Without looking at Tobias, she started sweeping the shavings into a small pile.
He let out a breath. “I’m sorry for what I said, Rachel. You know. About kissing the pig. That was uncalled for.”
“I deserved it.” She glanced around the shop. “Where’s the dustpan?”
“Hang on.” He disappeared into the back of the shop, then came out with a large metal dustpan. Lowering into a crouch, he placed it on the floor and she swept the debris into it. “No one deserves to be insulted like that,” he continued. “I should watch my mouth.”
At his mention of the word mouth, they both looked at each other. She saw his gaze focus on her lips, then dart away. “Finished?” he finally asked, staring down at the floor.
“Ya.”
He picked up the dustpan and deposited the shavings into a metal trash can, then leaned it against the can before taking the broom from her grasp. “Danki.”
“Don’t mention it. By the way, I just saw your sister before I came in here. Everyone else is inside baking cookies. Elisabeth said they’re making your favorite—oatmeal chocolate chip.”
“Those are her favorite.” Tobias’s lips quirked in a half smile. “She thinks everyone should like what she does. That way she always gets what she wants.”
“Really? That’s an interesting way to look at things.”
“Annoying, but that’s Elisabeth.”
“So what is your favorite cookie?”
“Peanut butter. With little chunks of peanuts sticking out. Actually anything with nuts is good.”
Rachel regarded him for a moment. “What do you think of pecan pie?”
“Love it. Why?”
“Just wondering.”
“Well, I doubt there’s pie in the house, but the cookies should be good. Believe me, I’ve never met a cookie I didn’t like.”
“We should probably go get some then. I promised Elisabeth I’d come inside. I’m sure Mami’s wondering where I ran off to.”
“Yeah, we should go. It’s a little chilly in here anyway.”
As they walked out of the shop, Rachel glanced at the buggy again. “Can it be fixed?”
Tobias nodded. “My cousin works on buggies. He’s coming out tomorrow after work to take a look at it. The axle’s broken and the wheels are bent, but the rest of it’s in good shape. Shouldn’t be too much trouble to fix.”
“That’s good.”
They headed toward the house, but Rachel suddenly stopped in her tracks.
He turned around. “What is it?”
They had just put their differences aside for once, and now she was on the verge of throwing everything off-kilter. But she couldn’t go inside without knowing if he truly meant what he said a few moments ago. “Tobias . . . do you really think I’m a horrible person?”
His head tilted to the right, regret coloring his features. “Rachel, I’m sorry. My mouth again. Keeps saying things it shouldn’t.”
“Even when it’s the truth?”
He scrubbed his face with the palm of his hand before regarding her again. “You asked me, so I’m gonna be honest. You’re always angry with me, Rachel. Most times I feel like anything I do or say will make you mad at me. I’ll admit, sometimes I egg you on. But other times, well, it’s hard to be around you.”
His admission cut deeply, even as she realized his words were true. She was resentful of him, and she didn’t understand why. Not completely anyway.
“Hey, let’s drop it.” Tobias smiled and waved his hand toward the house. “No need for all of us to be depressed. We better get some cookies before everyone else eats them all.”
Rachel sighed. Leave it to a man to think of his stomach above all else. But in all honesty she knew Tobias was creating a diversion, and she was grateful for it. He had enough to deal with right now. He had made his observation, and neither of them were interested in pursuing the conversation any further.
Yet she knew she’d be thinking about what he said for a very long time.
Chapter 9
The first few days after Moriah returned home, her family had given her the space she needed. They treated her nearly the same as they had before she married. Her parents didn’t ask many questions, which she appreciated. Her brothers were a bit kinder than before, and her sisters were less inquisitive, especially Elisabeth. They all knew about the baby, but naturally their excitement was tempered by the circumstances.
When Moriah accepted that she couldn’t spend the rest of her life in her bedroom, mourning what she had lost, she busied herself in a flurry of activity. She helped her family with their chores and practically took over all the cooking duties for her mother. She brought lunch out to her father, Tobias, and Luke in the woodshop, and occasionally she helped with customer orders. A few young wives in the church had new babies, and she sewed several outfits for each one. Since she’d always wanted to learn to knit, she bought an instruction book, needles, and several skeins of pale yellow yarn. By the end of the day, she was usually exhausted.
After three weeks of busyness, she still felt lost and confused. At night, the hardest time for her, sleep was always elusive. She tried mentally repeating Scripture, but that didn’t help. Instead, she laid in her single bed, tossing and turning, thinking about Levi, mulling over regrets, asking God why this had happened to her. She was still no closer to an answer. Her future looked bleak and lonely. She could never remarry. Her child would never know his or her father. Or even have a father. Yes, her family had rallied around her, and they would always be there for her. But they couldn’t fill the emptiness she felt when she saw other couples, or stop the sadness she felt knowing she would never have another child.
At times she couldn’t bear to even look at her own family because doing so brought pain and regret. For years the Bylers had spent every Thursday evening engrossed in a family activity—playing a board game, reading the Bible or other stories aloud, or singing hymns together. But even during those family evenings, she felt like an outsider. She would never have the experience of sitting next to her husband, sharing the Bible with their children, as her parents did. Her siblings would all marry and have families of their own. They wouldn’t be looked on by the rest of the community with pity or, even worse, as an outcast. Her dreams of a large family and a loving husband were shattered.
So she did the only thing she could do. She survived and put her focus on her baby. She was powerless to bring Levi back; he had made his decision and there was nothing she could do about it. And while she knew the pain of his rejection and the loneliness filling her soul wouldn’t heal quickly, she had to at least try to have as normal a life as possible, for the sake of her child. Her babe would never feel abandoned or betrayed. She would make sure of it.
When the third week of April arrived, Moriah was busier than ever. The Bylers were hosting church that Sunday, and her family members were deep in the throes of preparations. Their house had a large basement where the service would be held. The furniture and wood floors needed to be dusted, cleaned, and polished. Even though there would be a potluck meal after the service, the Bylers still needed to provide a good portion of the food. Moriah had the task of preparing the apple crumb pies.
That Wednesday morning she finished rolling out the last pie crust on the kitchen table, then placed it in a metal pie pan. With her fingers she crimped the edges, then stepped back from the table. Twelve crusts, ready to be filled, then baked later on in the afternoon when her mother came back from the market and her sisters were home from school. Elisabeth and Ruthie would make the crumb topping out of flour, cinnamon, sugar, and butter and sprinkle it on the homemade apple pie filling Moriah had prepared the day before.
As she washed her hands under the cold water, a yawn escaped. Her mother said fatigue was normal in the beginning of pregnancy, but Moriah knew that wasn’t the only reason for her exhaustion.
She dried her hands and went to the linen closet, where she found a basket filled with old, clean rags. Sele
cting a large one, she set to the task of dusting every exposed space in the house. She had just started on one of the end tables when she heard a knock on the door.
“Just a minute.” She tucked the rag in the pocket of her white apron and answered the door. Her eyes widened. “Gabriel?”
“Hi.” He glanced down for a moment, shifting from one foot to the other. Then he looked back up. “I was driving by, and I thought I’d see if your horses needed any shoes.”
“Our horses are fine, but that’s thoughtful of you to stop by.”
“Oh,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “All right then.”
When he didn’t turn around and leave, she asked, “Is there anything else I can do for you, Gabriel?”
“Nee. Nothing else.” He paused, looking more unsure than she had ever seen him. “Well, I was also wondering how you’re doing.”
Ah, so that was his real reason for stopping by. He came to check on her. She was both surprised and touched. “I’m doing all right,” she said with a small smile. “As well as expected, I guess.”
“Gut. Glad to hear it.” He rocked back and forth on his heels.
A gust of wind swirled around them, cutting through her dress and chilling her skin. He didn’t seem in any hurry to leave, so she asked, “Would you like to come in for a minute?”
He hesitated, then nodded. “If you don’t mind.”
“Nee. I don’t mind at all. I’m glad to see you.” Gabriel’s expression relaxed. He seemed relieved by her welcome. Although she saw him and his daed at church, their paths never crossed any other time. She didn’t realize until this moment how much she had missed them both.
Once inside, he slipped off his black hat, then ran his hand through his brown hair. “Cold spring day.”
“Ya. Would you like something to drink? I’ve got coffee, and there are a few cookies left over from lunch.”
“Danki, but I’m fine. Had a big meal with Daed. Frau Stoltzfus brought over a couple casseroles last night.” His head dipped down a tiny bit as he looked at her directly. “Everything okay with the baby?”
The Hearts of Middlefield Collection Page 14
