A Place of His Own (8 page)

He never should have agreed to let her help him with the house. Getting the renovations done quickly wasn't worth the pain her presence in his life caused. And spending the evening with the Grabers was the last thing he needed to do. He had gotten a taste of how wonderful being with a real family could be at lunch earlier that day. He didn't want to put himself through that again, being on the outside looking in, knowing they had something he desperately wanted but couldn't have.

“
Danki
for the invitation, but I planned to get something in town,” he said, turning his back to her. He couldn't look at those beautiful hazel eyes anymore—eyes filled with invitation and promise. He doubted she realized how she looked at him, how her feelings were revealed so clearly to him. He hadn't imagined the spark that had ignited when they stood so close together in the kitchen.

“You're going to eat fast food? You'd prefer that over a home-cooked meal?”

No, he didn't prefer that at all. But he had no other choice. “I have a couple more things to pick up in town,” he said, coming up with the excuse on the fly. And because he couldn't stand there in his kitchen, wanting more than anything to say yes to any request she made of him, he headed toward the door. “
Danki
for everything.” Unable to help himself, he glanced over his shoulder.

Her bright expression faltered. “You're welcome, Josiah. But you don't have to keep thanking me. It's a pleasure to help out a . . . neighbor.”

He turned and looked at her. The emotion in her eyes was anything but neighborly, and it tugged at his heart. He had to get out of there, fast. “Shops will be closing soon. I need to get to town before five.” He stood near the back door of the kitchen, gesturing with his outstretched hand for her to go.

“Oh. Okay.” She looked at him with uncertainty one more time before sliding past him and walking out the door.

Her arm brushed his, and he closed his eyes. He had faced challenges in his life—a lot of difficult challenges—but keeping his feelings for Amanda securely wrapped was by far the hardest.

A moment later he followed her outside and surveyed his backyard. Andrew had done an excellent job mowing. The shorn grass was already turning brown, and tomorrow it would need to be raked up. But the boy had done the hard work. Pushing that mower through grass that had in some places reached his waist couldn't have been an easy task.

Amanda faced him, the afternoon sun shining through the rustling branches of the oak trees behind her. He couldn't help but breathe in the sweet scent of the freshly mown grass as he gazed at her. For a fleeting moment he forgot everything, concentrating on nature's beauty as well as the natural beauty in front of him.

“So I'll see you tomorrow morning,” she said. “Same time?”

Her words broke the spell. “I don't—”

“Josiah Bontrager, if you tell me
nee
again, I'll . . . I'll . . . well, I don't know what I'll do, but you won't like it! You're making me
ab im kopp
, you know that?” Striding toward him, she stopped barely a foot away. “You never used to be like this, Josiah. Stubborn. Bullheaded. Cold. And above all, frustrating.”

He looked away, not liking her description of him even though it was accurate. “People change, Amanda.”

“
Ya
, but they don't change into completely different people. Not unless . . .” Her tone softened. “Not unless something happened to them.” She moved closer. “What happened to you, Josiah?”

His jaw jerked, and he couldn't face her.

She laid her hand on his shoulder. “Josiah, we're friends. Whatever you went through, you can tell me. I want to help.”

The warmth of her hand seeped through the cotton cloth of his shirt. Stepping back, he forced her to drop her hand. “You can't help me, Amanda. You can't change the past.”

She sighed. “
Nee
, I can't. But you don't have to live in the past either.”

The soft sigh she expelled covered him like a warm blanket on a cold winter's night. He looked at her. So sweet, so innocent. She had no idea what she had asked of him. He had made a vow to himself not to reveal those deep secrets, and he wasn't about to break that promise.

She moved toward him, placing her hand back on his arm. “Talk to me, Josiah. You never had trouble doing that before. Remember how much time we spent just talking? Lying on a soft bed of grass on a summer night, looking at millions of stars, sharing our hopes and—”

“Stop.” He grabbed her hand, a little harder than he meant to. But he couldn't help it. Every word she spoke dug into him.

Shock registered on her face, and she tried to twist out of his grip. “Josiah, you're hurting me.”

He glanced down at his hand locked around her wrist. Stricken, he released her, not missing the red ring circling her pale skin. He staggered backward. “Amanda, I'm . . .” Unable to finish, he turned and ran to the barn. Only when he reached the inside, away from her view, did he allow himself to breathe.

She had said he would never hurt her. Just now, he had proven what he always knew—he could.

Amanda rubbed her wrist as she watched Josiah flee. It didn't hurt that much, only tingled, and she had been surprised more than anything. Why had he grabbed her like that? She was tempted to follow him but thought better of it. In the old days she would have chased him down and demanded that he talk to her. But his reaction gave her pause, and she remembered her mother's warning about being too nosy. Instead she headed for the house, trying to figure out what to do.

As she passed through the backyard, she barely noticed her siblings running around and playing by the swing set. She had to find a way to help Josiah. But how, when she had no idea what was wrong?

Still thinking, she walked into the kitchen, where the scent of fried chicken filled the air. Her mother stood next to the stove, a hot pot of oil bubbling over the gas burner. She dipped a chicken leg into a shallow dish holding beaten eggs, then rolled it in a separate dish of flour. Grease spattered as the floured piece hit the hot oil. Katharine wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, looking less tired than she had been lately.

Her mother turned her head, apparently noticing her for the first time. “Amanda. I'm glad you're home. I could use some help. I know you've been over at Josiah's all day, but if you could fix the corn, I would appreciate it.”

Amanda nodded and walked to the pantry to retrieve two quart jars of home-canned corn. As she dumped the vegetables into a large pot, she continued to consider her dilemma.

“Andrew and Thomas seem to have had a
gut
time today,” Katharine remarked, flouring another piece of chicken. “They couldn't stop talking about
Mr
. Josiah. I've never heard them get that tickled from doing a day's hard work.”

“He's
sehr gut
with them.” Amanda added a soft pat of butter to the corn and stirred. “And they worked really hard. So did Rachel. We got a lot accomplished in the kitchen.”

“There's much satisfaction in a job well done.” Katharine cast Amanda a sidelong glance. “You always do a
gut
job,
Dochder
.”

“
Danki, Mamm
.” She set the pot on top of the stove and turned on the burner, staring at the small yellow kernels as if they held the answers she needed.

“Amanda?”

Her mother's voice jerked her out of her thoughts.
“Ya?”

“Is everything okay? You haven't said much since you got home.” Using a small wire mesh basket with a long wooden handle attached, she fished out three pieces of golden brown chicken and put them on a platter covered with two layers of paper towel. “That's not like you.”

“I just have a lot on my mind.” Amanda stirred the corn again, which had started to bubble.

“I suspect Josiah's on your mind.”

Amanda looked at her mother and sighed. “
Ya
, he is. He's different,
Mamm
. A lot different than he used to be.”

“Of course he is, Amanda. You are too. The last time you saw each other you were barely teenagers. Now you're both adults. You can't expect him to be the same
bu
he was back then.”

“I don't. But I don't expect him to be a stranger, either.”

Katharine dropped two more chicken pieces into the large pot. The cooking oil bubbled and splattered. When she didn't say anything, Amanda took the opportunity to explain.

“I've missed him,
Mamm
. A lot. I didn't realize how much until he came back.” She turned the heat down under the corn and faced her mother. “He never said good-bye, you know. I want to know why he left so suddenly. And what he's been doing over the past ten years.” She frowned. “But he's built this shell around himself. Like a turtle. And just when I think we're to the point where we can have a real conversation, he ducks inside.”

“Maybe he feels threatened.”

“But why?” Amanda held up her hands. “How can he feel threatened by his best friend?”

“
Former
best friend. Don't forget that.” Katharine checked on the chicken, then placed one hand behind her on the small of her back.

“Here,
Mamm
. Let me finish the chicken. You sit down.” Amanda led her to a chair by the kitchen table.

Her mother plopped down. “
Danki
, Amanda. Really, I'm fine. Just a twinge in my back.”

“All the more reason for me to finish supper. There're only a few pieces left anyway. You go ahead and rest.”

Amanda returned to the stove and dredged the last three chicken legs in flour and dropped them in the oil. Wiping her floured hands on a towel, she turned to her mother, picking up the thread of their conversation. She couldn't let it go just yet. “Do you know why Josiah and his
daed
left so abruptly?”

“Even if I did, it's not my place to say, Amanda. I don't indulge in gossip, and neither should you.”

“But this isn't idle gossip,
Mamm
. I can tell there's something really wrong with Josiah, but he won't talk to me.”

“Did you stop to think he has his reasons?”
Mamm
looked at her again. “Amanda, I know you care for him. You two were so close when you were young, so it makes sense that you would be curious. But even though you shared that closeness at one time, a lot has happened, in both your lives. Maybe you weren't meant to be friends beyond your childhood.”

Amanda shook her head. “I don't believe that. I can't.” She paused. “I think God brought him back to Paradise for a reason, and not just to fix up his house.”

Katharine looked skeptical. “Do you really believe that? Or is it wishful thinking?” She rose from her chair and walked over to Amanda, putting her hand on her shoulder. “You have such a beautiful heart,
kind
. You want to solve everyone's problems because you care so much. But there are some things in this world you can't fix. You might have to accept that this is one of them.”

A couple of hours later, after they finished eating supper and washing the dishes, the rest of the family gathered in the living room to listen to
Daed
read from the Bible, something they did at least one night a week. Although Amanda usually joined them, she didn't this time, and instead grabbed her jacket from the peg by the back door and slipped outside to the swing set.

The sun had dipped beneath the horizon, cloaking the sky in dusky gray. She sat down on a swing. Stretching her legs in front of her, she dug her toe into the cold dirt and gently pushed the swing back and forth as she stared out at Josiah's house. She didn't see his buggy near the barn.

She thought about her mother's words. Normally she followed her counsel, but she couldn't shake the niggling thought that her
mamm
might be wrong in this case. Somehow she'd find out the truth on her own.

No, she wasn't completely on her own. She had God on her side, just as Josiah did. And while she didn't think she would get him to open up about his past right away, she could do her best to remind him that whatever he had been through, he hadn't been alone. Not then, not now. From the discomfort he had displayed praying over the meal, she had a feeling he had forgotten that.

Chapter Seven

JOSIAH AWOKE TO THE SOUND OF TWO BOYS ARGUING outside. Although the night had been cool, he had slept with the window open to dispel the mustiness in his room. He could hear Thomas and Andrew's voices clearly.

“But you got to help him yesterday,” Andrew said. “It's my turn to work with Mr. Josiah.”

“But I don't wanna go home,” Thomas countered.

“You don't have to. I'm sure there's other stuff you can do around here. Like help Amanda in the house.”

“I wanna use a hammer again.”

“It's my turn. I just tole you that.”

Josiah rubbed a hand across his face. Apparently Amanda hadn't listened to him when he said he didn't need any help today. Throwing back the ratty quilt he had used as a covering, he got out of bed and went to the window. The boys were pushing each other now, and Josiah knew soon they would be rolling around on the ground, half fighting and half playing, as boys were wont to do.

He heard a door slam, and a moment later Amanda stood at her brothers' sides. He couldn't hear her words, but the way she placed her hands on her slim hips expressed her displeasure. Today she wore a black apron over a dark green dress that reached her calves. He forgot about Andrew and Thomas as he watched her, mesmerized. After a few moments, he regained his senses. He clenched his fists and turned away.

He didn't want to deal with this today. Last evening, he'd gone to Paradise, slowly riding down the side roads until long past dark, not wanting to go back home. Even though he hadn't lost his temper with Amanda, he had caused her pain, and he could hardly stand that. Gripping her wrist enough to make a mark served to solidify what he already knew—he couldn't be trusted to keep himself in control.