Just as he put the last mouthful of apple brown Betty into his mouth, Moriah walked into the room. He was surprised to see she was still here. She looked as equally surprised to see him in the kitchen.
“I see you found supper,” she said, walking to the table. She picked up his dishes and took them over to the sink.
“You don’t have to do that.” Gabe tried to take a glass from her hand, but she moved it out of his reach.
“Nonsense. I’ll just give them a quick wash before I leave.”
He picked up a dishtowel off the rack that hung near the sink. “Then I’ll dry.”
“Danki. I hate the drying part.” She handed him a wet dish.
“How’s Daed doing?”
“He’s sleeping in his old room. He wanted to go back to the dawdi haus, but I wouldn’t let him.”
“Good idea.”
“He seemed fine, though.”
“Because of your gut care.”
“Well, not just me. Rachel helped out too. He’s a tough one, I’ll say that for him.”
“Ya. He’s tough all right. He’s been through a lot.” Taking the fork Moriah offered him, he added, “We all have.”
She nodded and remained silent for a few moments, the only sound in the kitchen the clinking of the dishes in the sink. After Gabe had wiped the last dish, she turned to him. “I haven’t thanked you properly for checking up on me the past couple of weeks. But like I told your daed, it’s not necessary.”
“I know I don’t have to.” He turned and faced her. “Moriah, don’t you understand? I want to.”
Chapter 13
Speech abandoned Moriah when she heard Gabriel’s words. He wanted to check up on her? Why would he want to do that? She could understand him dropping by once or twice, but he had come to see her at least three times a week since Levi had died. A faint tingling sensation rushed through her as he continued to hold her gaze, his chestnut-colored eyes filled with an emotion she couldn’t comprehend. Then it disappeared.
Gabriel cleared his throat as he turned away from her. “Uh, well, that didn’t take long,” he said, putting away the last dish. “Chores go by a lot faster when there are four hands working instead of two.”
“That they do.” She watched his profile for a moment, but exhaustion had been dogging her for the past hour or so. She didn’t have the strength to try to figure him out. Instead, she turned around and surveyed the kitchen, making sure everything was neat and tidy. She and Rachel had ignored his plea to not to clean anything, and between the two of them, the Millers now had a spotless house, an accomplishment that deeply satisfied her. Rachel had been a great help, and Moriah was very glad she had stopped by to visit. She truly liked the young woman, and hoped they could become closer friends.
When she was satisfied that everything the kitchen was in tiptop shape, she said, “There’s coffee cake for tomorrow’s breakfast; it’s wrapped in foil in the pantry. And there are some sandwiches for lunch. I put the chicken stew in the cooler; you can reheat that for supper tomorrow.”
“Wow.” Gabriel’s brows lifted as he grinned. “Danki, Moriah. Sounds like you were busy today.”
“I like staying busy. It . . . helps.”
His eyes met hers for a brief moment, and they both looked away. “I know. I’ve taken on more jobs than ever since Levi . . . since he passed. Although I wonder if that was a mistake. Daed might not have hurt his hand if he hadn’t felt he had to help me out.”
“Not everything is your fault, Gabriel.”
He frowned. “I know that.”
“Sometimes I wonder if you do. Is that why you’ve been coming by so often? Out of a sense of guilt? Or do you just feel obligated?” She was too tired to worry about the edge in her voice. She didn’t want to be someone’s obligation, especially not Gabriel’s. Obviously he had more than enough to do. He didn’t need to waste time driving out to see her.
“Nee.” His smile faded and his forehead furrowed with consternation. “Look, I just told you I wanted to see you. But if you don’t want me coming around . . . I don’t want to be a bother, Moriah.”
Remorse pricked at her, and she closed her eyes for a moment. She shouldn’t have spoken to him that way. He’d been nothing but kind to her, and this was how she repaid him, by hurting his feelings. “I’m sorry. I really do appreciate you thinking of me. It’s nice to know someone cares.”
His eyes suddenly softened, and she found herself transfixed by them. “I do care,” he said.
“Because we’re family. And friends. At least I’d like to think we are.”
“We are. But that’s not the only reason—”
Before he could finish his sentence, she was assaulted by a stab of pain similar to the one she had experienced that morning. She bent over and tried to catch her breath.
“Moriah?” Gabriel immediately came to her side, his arm around her shoulders, his body bent in a similar shape to hers. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know.” The pain subsided, disappearing almost as quickly as it came. When she didn’t feel anything else, she slowly straightened.
“What, is it a cramp or something?”
“Maybe.”
“Here, sit down.” He guided her over to a chair and held it out for her. “Do you need to put your feet up?”
“My feet are fine.” Actually, she felt completely fine now, at least physically. But the alarm she’d felt earlier that day multiplied tenfold. However, she wouldn’t let Gabriel know. He looked worried enough as it was.
“Has this been happening a lot?”
“Only one other time.” She didn’t feel the need to tell him when.
He knelt down beside her. “Do you want a glass of water? Maybe some crackers or something? You shouldn’t have worked so hard today.”
She found his hovering slightly amusing. And a little surprising. He’d been so aloof during the time she and Levi had been together. And even though they’d grieved together at the hospital and funeral, their subsequent visits had been awkward—at least she thought so, with Gabe saying very little when he stopped by. But she was carrying his niece or nephew; of course he’d be concerned.
“I didn’t work that hard,” she said, trying to reassure him. “And the pain is gone.” All of a sudden she felt another sensation, one she had never felt before. Excited and without thinking about it, she grabbed his hand and placed it on her belly. “Can you feel that?”
His hand twitched and he grinned. “Wow.”
She nodded, thrilled with the movement she felt inside her. Then she looked down at her hand covering his, and another familiar feeling intruded on the happy moment. Sorrow. Levi should be here, feeling his baby’s light movements. He should be sharing this moment with her, not Gabriel.
But she hid her emotions for Gabriel’s sake. His face shone with joy. She wouldn’t destroy that for him. They both had so little to rejoice about, and had lost so much—she a husband, him a brother. She had become adept at burying her feelings, shoving them deep down inside until she thought they were completely gone, but even then they often appeared when she least expected it, like now. Yet she suppressed them again, not only for his sake, but also for her own.
“Danki.”
His soft voice interrupted her thoughts.
“For what?”
“For sharing this with me.” He slipped his hand out from beneath hers and stood up. “That was pretty special.”
She smiled, amazed at how affected he seemed to be. “I’m glad you were here to share it. Although I wish . . .”
“I know.” His expression dimmed. “I wish he was here too.”
Not wanting to dwell on their mutual sadness, she rose from her seat. “I really have to get home. I’m sure Mami is starting to worry about me.” She smoothed the front of her apron.
“I’m taking you home.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“Ya, it’s necessary. What if you have another pain? Plus it’s dark and you cou
ld get into an accident.”
“I’ve driven in the dark before,” she said, a little impatiently. What did he think she was, some frail flower whose stem would snap off in a light breeze? Her parents and siblings seemed to think so. Even Rachel had earlier in the day. But anyone can drop a rolling pin. That didn’t mean she wasn’t capable of doing anything for herself. “I’m not helpless.”
“I’m not saying you are. Remember what happened to Tobias a couple months ago? I won’t let you risk yourself or the baby because some Yankee doesn’t know how to drive a car.”
She recalled the buggy accident, remembering how lucky Tobias and Rachel had been, considering her brother had sustained only a bump on the head. They could have been seriously hurt . . . or worse. She couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to her baby. “All right. You’ve convinced me.”
“Gut. I’m glad you’ve come to your senses.” He winked at her, a gesture similar to what Levi used to do when he would tease her, yet somehow completely different. Then again, why wouldn’t it be? Even though they looked nearly exactly alike, as she was so often reminded, Gabriel was nothing like his brother.
Gabriel grabbed his summer hat, made of tightly woven straw, and plopped it on his head. He opened the door for her, and they walked into the balmy night air. He opened the buggy door on the passenger side and helped her in, then untied his horse and jumped beside Moriah on the seat. Within minutes they started toward her house.
Once the buggy was in motion, she leaned back in the seat. Fatigue instantly overcame her, and she closed her eyes. Only for a moment. She just needed a minute of rest.
“Moriah.”
Feeling the pressure of someone touching her shoulder, her eyes flew open.
“We’re here,” Gabriel said.
“Already?” She tried to stifle a yawn, but didn’t quite succeed.
“Ya, sleepyhead.”
“How long have I been asleep?”
“Since I pulled out of the driveway.” He smiled.
“Really?” She opened the buggy door, and he was at her side before she could step on the ground. Danki,” she said, then yawned again. “Sorry. I don’t know why I’m so tired.”
“My guess is you’re working too hard.”
She ignored his words. “Come on inside. I’ll get Daed or one of my brothers to drive you back home.”
“Nee. I’ll walk. It’s not that far.”
“It’s too dark to walk.”
He stuck his hand in his coat pocket and pulled out a flashlight. “I always come prepared.”
She grinned. “Why am I not surprised?”
“Go on in the house. I’ll put up your horse.”
“Are you sure?”
“Ya. Just promise me one thing?”
“What’s that?”
“You’ll tell the midwife about these pains you’re having.”
“Don’t worry. I will.”
“Oh, and one other thing.” He looked at her intently and took a step forward. “Consider this fair warning. I’ll be checking in on you—whether you like it or not. And don’t think it’s because I have to. Remember, I want to.” He gazed at her for a moment, then nodded. With that he stepped away and led the horse toward the barn.
She had half a mind to go after him and tell him not to bother, but she was too tired. Although he kept insisting he wanted to see her, she wished he wouldn’t, and somehow she had to convince him not to. The last thing she wanted to be was a burden on him. He already had plenty of those to bear.
“I can’t see that anything’s wrong.” Rebekkah Fisher, Moriah’s midwife, lifted her hands from Moriah’s slightly protruding abdomen. Her mother had insisted on fetching her when Moriah told her about the pains she’d been having. “How often have you felt the pain?”
“Just a few times. Twice the other day, in the morning when I was at Mary’s fabric store, and in the evening at the Millers’. Then once yesterday. I haven’t had any today.”
Rebekkah rubbed one of her chubby fingers across her lips. “Hmm. You’re perfectly healthy, except you look tired. Are you getting enough rest?”
Moriah sat up in her bed and nodded, cringing inwardly for being untruthful. She clasped her hands together and put them in her lap. She hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in a very long time, despite her fatigue. Working hard during the day hadn’t made sleeping any easier.
Rebekkah eyed her skeptically. “I guess I’ll have to take your word for it. Are you napping at all?”
“Nee.”
“Then I’m prescribing at least one nap a day. If you can’t sleep, then just lie down and relax. Thirty minutes every day. I also want you to lie down if you feel any pain.”
“I’ll make sure she does,” Emma chimed in, moving to stand next to the midwife. She looked at her daughter. “I’m not one to say I told you so—”
“Since when?”
Emma smirked. “Very funny, dochder. Hopefully you’ll listen to your midwife. You haven’t listened to me very well. I’ve only had six children, you know.”
“I know.” Moriah rose from her bed. “Danki to you both for caring. I really appreciate it. But I’m okay, really.” She went to her closet and pulled out one of her long white aprons, then slipped it over her head, making sure she didn’t disturb her kapp.
“I’m glad you’re feeling gut.” Rebekkah gathered her black leather satchel and slung the strap over her plump shoulder. She gave Moriah a stern look. “I’ll be back in a couple of weeks for another checkup. However, if the pains become worse or more frequent, let me know. God forbid, but it could be something serious, and we’ll have to take care of it right away. In the meantime, get some rest.”
“I will.”
“Would you like to stay for some coffee?” Emma offered.
“I’d love to, but I have another appointment.”
“All right then. Let me see you out.”
When Emma and Rebekkah disappeared downstairs, Moriah went over to the window and looked outside. The sun was trying its best to pierce through the stubborn cloud cover, casting thin beams of light before disappearing completely behind a blanket of gray. Rain threatened, filling the air with sticky humidity. She glanced down at the ground below and looked at the vegetable garden situated in front of the house. Along with her mother and sisters she had planted several rows of tomatoes, corn, cucumbers, carrots, sweet peppers, and green beans. Yesterday she had pulled every weed out of the soft dirt. Today she would turn her attention to the flower beds that bordered the house, and planned to work outside as long as the rain held off.
Outside Rebekkah steered her buggy out of the Byler’s driveway. Just has she left, another buggy drove up, slowed, and turned in. She immediately recognized the driver.
Gabriel.
Her hand went to her kapp, making sure it was secure and no loose strands of hair had released from it. She also glanced down at her dress and made sure her apron was straight.
Suddenly she stopped her movements. Why did she care what she looked like in front of Gabriel? Especially when she needed to tell him she didn’t want him stopping by anymore.
She exhaled a long breath as she saw him get out of the buggy and head toward the house, taking long, confident strides. From the vantage point of her bedroom, his face was obscured by his straw hat, but she could make out his broad shoulders, his muscled arms straining against the sleeves of his shirt. Her belly started swirling, and she placed a hand against it. Something other than the baby had caused the sensation. She chalked it up to nerves, even though she’d never been nervous around Gabriel. Confused, yes. But not anxious. Yet she’d never been in this situation with him before.
“Moriah!” Emma called from downstairs. “You have a visitor.”
She took another deep breath, then went downstairs and entered the front room. He was standing by the sofa next to the window. Quickly he removed his hat and held it in his hands. “Hi, Moriah,” he said softly.
Again, the tick
le appeared in her belly.
“Would you care for something to drink?” Emma walked into the room. “I’ve just made some lemonade. It’s refreshing on such a sticky day.”
“Nee,” Moriah said.
“Ya,” Gabriel said at the same time. He glanced at Moriah, wariness creeping into his eyes.
Emma looked at both of them, then said, “One lemonade it is. Please, Gabriel. Feel free to sit down.” She shot Moriah a perplexed look before retreating into the kitchen.
Gabriel didn’t move. “Do you want me to sit down?”
“Gabriel, I . . . listen, I don’t mind if you stay. But I was serious about you not needing to come by so often.”
“I know.”
His answer surprised her. “Then why did you come?”
“Because I told you I would.”
“Moriah!” Emma’s voice sounded from the kitchen. “Tell Gabriel I made fresh apple cake! Come in here and I’ll cut you both a piece.”
“Apple cake?” His eyebrow lifted. “Now, how can I resist an offer like that?”
As Gabe followed Moriah to the Bylers’ kitchen, he inhaled the sweet cinnamon scent of Emma’s apple cake. And while he was more than happy to partake of the delicious dessert, having the opportunity to spend more time with Moriah was a thousand times more satisfying.
“Willkum,” Emma said, gesturing to an empty seat at the table. “I’m glad you could stay.”
He glanced at Moriah and wondered if she would add anything to her mother’s statement. She didn’t, so he waited as her mother slid a fork beneath a plump slice of the cake and lifted it from the baking pan. A fat layer of white frosting topped the piece that Emma placed on a dish.
He accepted it with a smile, but he kept his emotions in check. He found it easier to do than in the past, mostly because they didn’t torture him as much. He’d come to a decision about Moriah. Even though she seemed resistant, he would continue to check in on her, to make sure she was all right. He would also find opportunities to spend time with her, like they did the other night and were currently doing. They had been good friends in the past, and he wanted to renew that friendship. And who knew, maybe the friendship would turn into something more, and he could fulfill his brother’s dying wish to care for Moriah.
The Hearts of Middlefield Collection Page 19
