Promised to Another

by Laura Hilton

  Was he wrong to spend time here, to want to be around Annie? To try to woo her? He wished he knew. If only she were open to leaving Seymour.

  Joshua exhaled loudly and turned his attention to the older model gas riding lawn mower an Englischer had brought in sometime earlier. Isaac had said that the man had nursed it along all spring and summer and was about ready to give up on it and buy a new one unless Isaac could fix it.

  With another sigh, he gathered a few tools and an old newspaper before he lowered himself to the dirty floor next to the mower. At least he got to start with the fun part: taking it apart.

  But Annie kept intruding into his thoughts. That first time he’d seen her, on a church Sunday, he’d thought she looked like the kindest person he’d ever met, watching her as she comforted a small child. So encouraging. And all the little kinner had gathered around her to listen, completely engaged as she told them a story. She was beautiful, caught up in the story, in the kinner, in life. Jah, she’d caught his attention. But when he’d casually asked the other buwe about her, everyone had told him the same thing.

  She was not available.

  “Not available” had to be two of the most discouraging words.

  The door opened, and Isaac came in, his gaze going to the partially disassembled engine beside Joshua. “Ach, gut. You’ve started on that. Let me know if you need any help. I’ll start work on the riding mower that came in yesterday.” Gesturing at Joshua’s project, he added, “I’m told that with a bag on the back, it collects leaves and grinds them up for mulch.” He shook his head, as if trying to understand the luxury of not having to rake leaves. “The owner is pretty anxious to get it back.”

  Joshua nodded, trying to wrap his mind around the concept, as well. In his community in Pennsylvania, they were allowed to use push lawn mowers, but they weren’t gas. His family had an old model with a rotating blade. An antique, was what he’d been told by some awestruck Englischer. A gas lawn mower seemed a luxury to Joshua. And riding one…well, he could see where it might be handy. If it picked up leaves, all the better. He smiled and lifted his gaze to Isaac. “Should we give it a test run as soon as I get it fixed?”

  Isaac grinned back. “It’d be remiss of us not to, ain’t so?”

  Chapter 7

  Annie went through the supper preparations in a daze. Before she knew it, the beef stew simmered on the back of the stove; on the counter beside it sat the corn bread, baked to a nice golden-brown; and the table was set. Everything was ready for whenever Daed and Joshua came inside from working in the shop. Aaron would spend the evening with his future in-laws, and Cathy wasn’t home yet. Annie glanced at the clock. Her sister was half an hour late.

  The only thing that wasn’t quite ready was the molasses pie she’d made to replace the custard pie, which the men had nearly polished off this afternoon. She’d made the crust herself, and while it wouldn’t be as flaky as Cathy’s, at least it wouldn’t be burned. Well, she hoped not. She checked the time and peeked inside the oven to check on it. Not quite done. Yet, even when it was, she wouldn’t be ready. It would take a million years for her to feel even remotely capable of facing this moment: Joshua, eating a meal with her—a meal prepared by her. She fought to keep an excited grin under control.

  She wiped her sweaty hands on her apron, then turned and went into the other room. Mamm looked up from her mending. “It smells delicious, Annie. I’m sorry I couldn’t help.”

  Annie forced a smile. “It’s okay. You just get better.”

  Mamm nodded. “As fast as the Lord wills.” She stuck the needle into the toe of the sock she was darning and laid her project across the arm of her wheelchair. “Your daed said he invited one of the Pennsylvania buwe to eat with us tonight.”

  Annie swallowed a dreamy sigh to keep it from coming out. “Jah.”

  “You met him, ain’t so? What is this bu like? I miss so much, not being able to go out.” Tears gathered in Mamm’s eyes. “I feel like a prisoner in my own home.”

  “Ach, Mamm.” Annie put her hand on Mamm’s arm and squeezed. “Maybe with Joshua working for him, Daed will have time to build a wheelchair ramp.”

  “Maybe. Tell me about him, the bu from Pennsylvania. All your daed said is that he seems to be willing to work with the bees and in the shop.” She gave a wry smile. “It disappoints him that Aaron doesn’t want to, but he’ll never say so.”

  “I know. And if I were a bu—”

  “You aren’t. And you mustn’t think that way. But this bu from Pennsylvania?”

  Annie swallowed. How could she describe Joshua without betraying every bit of longing she felt for him? Mamm would see right through her. “Ach, you’ll see him soon enough.” She waved dismissively. “Dinner’s ready, so I expect they’ll be walking in the door any moment.”

  Mamm shook her head. “Nein need to tell me how he looks.”

  “Um, he seems nice. I haven’t spent much time with him.” Not nearly enough. She couldn’t say that. Nor would she say that he’d asked out every single girl. But he hadn’t asked her, so maybe she would. “He’s what the Englisch call a ‘player.’” She swallowed hard. Time for the basics. “He’s gut-looking, and he knows it. Tall, dark blond hair, hazel eyes, with flecks of green, gray and blue, that seem to change color with the sky or his shirt.”

  So much for being objective or forgoing a physical description. Her face heated. Mamm stared up at her with her mouth partially open.

  Annie struggled for something more to say. Other than that he was a dream come true.

  Except for the “player” part.

  “Someone special, then, jah?” Mamm said softly.

  There was a noise behind Annie. She turned to see Joshua and Daed standing in the doorway. How much had they overheard?

  ***

  A player? Annie thought he was a player?

  Joshua balled his fists in frustration. He could feel his lips tightening and a muscle start twitching in his jaw. How could she possibly think he was a player? He forced his fingers to uncurl and then shoved his hands in his pockets, not knowing what else to do with them. But then, he remembered the dirty job he’d been doing earlier and pulled them back out again. He didn’t want to soil his clothes any worse than they already were. He and Isaac had cleaned up as best they could in the shop with some kind of soap called Goop, designed for removing grease, oil, and other grime. At least, that was what Isaac had said. It seemed to work fairly well, but the folds of his knuckles and his fingernails still bore traces of black grease.

  He’d arrived in the doorway about the time Annie’s mamm had asked about him, and now he didn’t know where to look, other than at his hands. He glanced up, long enough to meet the older woman’s gaze and nod at her, and then dropped his gaze again. He didn’t dare look at Annie, afraid that all his hurt and dismay would show.

  But he still wanted to know why she’d called him a player. His stomach churned.

  She had noticed his eyes, and she’d called him “gut-looking.”

  That didn’t even begin to negate the bad.

  “Lydia, this is Joshua Esh, one of the Pennsylvania buwe,” Isaac said. “He’s been helping with the bees and in the machine shop. Joshua, this is my wife, Lydia.”

  “Really nice to meet you, Joshua.” The woman smiled up at him from the wheelchair.

  “Nice to meet you, too, Mrs. Beiler.”

  She waved her hand. “Call me Lydia.”

  Isaac glanced at Joshua and pointed toward the stairs. “Bathroom is the third door on the left, if you want to wash up more. Dinner is ready when you kum down.” He turned to Annie. “Is Cathy home yet?”

  “I haven’t seen her.” Annie sounded quiet. Subdued.

  Joshua chanced a glance at her as he went by. Their eyes met, and the pretty pink coloring of her cheeks flushed a deeper red. He was pretty sure his own coloring had gone in the opposite direction—pasty white.

  A player. The label was like a knife to the heart. How could she think that? He
started up the stairs. And then, he remembered all the girls he’d taken home from singing—two at once the last time. Jah, he could see how that might look to a girl who was evidently interested. Did his attention to the other girls make her jealous? Hurt? Did everyone else in the community view him in the same way?

  Even more important, did he have it in him to repair the reputation he’d made for himself, however unintentionally?

  ***

  Annie wheeled Mamm into the kitchen and helped her get situated at the table, then double-checked the place settings. Cathy rarely got home from work this late, so maybe she’d made dinner plans. Still, Annie had set a place for her. She wished she had dinner plans of her own. Maybe she could run down the street and eat with her best friend, Becky.

  But as fast as that idea had come, she dismissed it. That wouldn’t go over so well with Mamm and Daed. They’d figure out the truth soon enough, if they hadn’t already. And then they’d talk to her about it. If she wanted her crush on Joshua Esh kept secret, she had to stay, smile, and…something. She didn’t quite know what. Yet.

  But she’d figure it out. She had to.

  She grabbed a couple of potholders and carried the pot of stew over to the table, then went back for the cornbread. As she set it down on a trivet, Joshua came into the room.

  “Is something burning?”

  Annie stared up at him, and her eyes widened. “Ach, my pie!” She hurried over to the stove and opened the oven, letting out a blast of heat. Reaching inside, she pulled out the pie. The edges were a little black, but that was it. Still salvageable. How could she have gotten so sidetracked? With a grimace, she set it down on the thick towel she’d placed on the counter. So much for impressing Joshua with her baking skills.

  She stepped back, still studying the pie, willing the burned areas to vanish. A light touch to her lower back made her jump. The contact, however casual, burned through her clothes. She hadn’t realized he was so close.

  “Ach, Annie. You baked.” Joshua’s voice held a slight mocking note. He leaned closer and lowered his voice to a whisper. “We need to talk.”

  His breath stirred the hairs hanging loosely around her ear, and she shivered.

  Joshua stepped away and raised his voice a little. “Anything I can help with?”

  “Um, nein. Danki.”

  “Okay.” Joshua turned and strode toward the table, going directly to Mamm. He pulled out the chair next to her and sat down, then said something to her. But he spoke so quietly that Annie couldn’t make it out.

  Mamm laughed and then touched his hand as she leaned forward to respond. Annie could only stare. He charmed even Mamm, a frau. It wasn’t right.

  Every woman but her.

  She swallowed her jealousy, pasted a sweet smile on her face, and walked over to the table. “Would you care for koffee or tea, Joshua? We have milk, too.”

  He looked up with a grin. “Whatever everyone else is having is fine.”

  She kept her smile in place. “Daed prefers tea with dinner.”

  Joshua shrugged one shoulder. “Tea is fine. I’m easy to please.” Then, he leaned toward Mamm again and murmured something else.

  Annie strained to hear as she went to fetch the basket of gourmet tea bags. Hopefully, she wasn’t the main topic of this conversation. Nein, she needn’t worry. She couldn’t possibly be.

  After Daed had come into the room and sat at his place, Annie set the basket of tea beside him, then went around the table to sit on the opposite side, across from Joshua. Not her usual seat. But that place was occupied by Joshua, so she sat in the place she’d set for him. She bowed her head for the silent prayer.

  Seconds later, Annie lifted her head, picked up her spoon, and dipped it into her bowl. It tasted like sawdust, and it took all of her self-restraint to keep from spitting it out. Yet no one complained. Daed ate with his normal gusto. And Joshua even went for seconds. “Ser gut, Annie.”

  She finished her meal with great effort, then got up to serve the pies—what was left of the custard one and her slightly burned molasses one. Joshua took a small piece of each.

  When dinner finally ended, Joshua bowed his head for the closing silent prayer and then stood. “I hate to eat and run, but I should get back before the Schwartzes wonder what happened to me. I didn’t tell them I had dinner plans.” He caught Annie’s eye and nodded toward the door. Apparently, whatever he needed to discuss with her couldn’t wait until tomorrow. Or Saturday.

  Daed raised his eyebrows, and Annie wished she could give him a satisfactory explanation as to why Joshua wanted to talk to her alone. Something to prevent Daed from traveling mental rabbit trails of courtship and marriage. She didn’t want him to get the wrong idea. Not that she knew the right one. But nothing came to mind. “I’ll see Joshua out,” was all she could think to say.

  Joshua followed her to the door. “Thanks again for dinner. I’ll see you tomorrow, Isaac. Really nice to meet you, Lydia.”

  Annie walked with him down the steps and into the dark yard. She wasn’t sure what he wanted to say or why, just that he’d sounded so serious when he’d whispered those four infamous words: “We need to talk.”

  “Can we take a short walk, maybe?” Joshua glanced toward the woods, then looked up at the dark sky. “Down the road?”

  “We could go in the barn,” Annie suggested. She hugged herself, wanting whatever it was he needed to say over and done with. It couldn’t be anything good. Maybe he’d picked up on her crush and wanted to tell her not to get her hopes up, that they’d never have a chance. Or maybe he wanted to back out of the trip they’d planned for Saturday. That might be a good thing. She couldn’t think how they’d get away with it. Englisch drivers talked. Bishop Sol and the school board would find out.

  She would be fired.

  She gulped down the lump in her throat and tried to think of what they could do to keep their outing a secret, if he wasn’t about to propose a cancellation.

  Joshua glanced toward the road and then nodded. “Jah, the barn is fine. More private. Do you have a lantern in there?”

  “Of course.” A flashlight, too.

  “Your daed, would he be done with his evening chores?”

  “Nein, he’ll be out directly.” Annie sighed. “Maybe we could go up in a loft?”

  “A loft is gut.” Joshua allowed her to lead the way into the barn. She was careful not to let the dog, Bu, out. Daed had told her that the neighbors’ dog was in heat, and they’d asked him to keep Bu home. They wanted to wait a couple of cycles before allowing their dog to whelp again.

  Annie stopped long enough to grab the flashlight lantern, then quickly scampered up a ladder, going into the dark recesses of the loft, where Daed wouldn’t see them or overhear them.

  “What did you need to talk about?” She flipped the lantern on and set it atop a hay bale. The dim light left his face partially obscured. “If you want to cancel the trip to Springfield, I completely understand. It’d be best—”

  “Nein. That’s not it. I want to go.” His expression turned serious. “You told your mamm I’m a player.”

  Annie slumped. He had heard that part of the conversation, after all. Still, she was surprised he had the courage to bring it up. She wouldn’t have.

  He waited a minute, as if giving her a chance to respond, and then frowned. “You and I, we haven’t…I mean….” He sighed. “Ach, Annie.”

  Annie shrugged. “It’s true. At least, it’s what everybody thinks. Every week, you take a different girl home from singing. They talk….”

  She shivered under his scrutiny in the semidarkness. His frown deepened, but his steady gaze held hers. “I never meant…I only wanted…I wasn’t sure about courting anyone, except…well, since….” He shook his head. “I thought inviting different girls would be a gut way to get to know people, and if I liked any of them enough to consider, I’d take her home again. Spend a bit more time with her.”

  “So, you haven’t met the woman of your dreams?” Sh
e hoped that her smidgen of hopefulness hadn’t come through in her tone. She really shouldn’t have asked that.

  After a long hesitation, Joshua chuckled—not a genuine laugh, really, but more of a forced sound, for lack of anything else to say. “I don’t know. I think so, jah…but I’m not sure.”

  So, there was a chance he had? The flicker of hope died.

  “Annie, I don’t want a reputation of being a player. I didn’t mean to mislead you—or anyone—that way.”

  She sucked in a breath. “I’m sorry for judging you.”

  “And just so there’s nein more confusion, I won’t take home another girl unless I’m reasonably sure about her.”