A Place of His Own (9 page)

He pulled on his trousers, then picked up a blue shirt from his duffel bag and slid it over his shoulders. He hadn't bothered to unpack everything, and he didn't intend to. Having to pull everything out of a duffel bag every day served as a reminder that he wouldn't be here any longer than necessary.

It took him only a few minutes to get dressed. He scrubbed his hand over his face one more time. He hadn't shaved in two days, and he couldn't let his beard or mustache grow out any more. For a short time he had tried to live like the
Englisch
, but during that part of his life, he felt that he was turning his back on his mother somehow. Despite his inner struggles, he found a tiny measure of peace living Plain and following the
Ordnung
, even if he wasn't sure about his relationship with God.

He scrambled downstairs and went into the bathroom. Ten minutes later he emerged, clean shaven, but no more ready to face Amanda. How could he look her in the eye after he'd physically hurt her yesterday?

“Josiah? Is that you?”

Her lilting voice filtered from the kitchen to the other side of the modest house. Steeling himself, he headed toward her. He would put a stop to her coming over once and for all.

But then he saw her standing in front of the stove, as if she had always belonged there, in his kitchen, in his house. Once he smelled the tantalizing aroma of bacon cooking, he lost his resolve.

Turning, she told him good morning with a bright smile.

The thought of seeing her beautiful face every morning meandered through his mind, making his breath catch. How long had it been since he'd had someone make him breakfast, other than a cook in a restaurant? Years, since his
mamm
died. He swallowed as more memories overcame him, thoughts of his mother's buckwheat pancakes and homemade maple syrup so sweet and rich he would eat until almost bursting. His favorite breakfast, one she made for him often. What he wouldn't do to taste those pancakes now.

“I hope you're hungry. I'm used to cooking for a crowd, and I think I made too much.” The oven door squeaked painfully as she opened it. Reaching inside, she pulled out a platter piled high with— he couldn't believe it—pancakes.

She lightly touched the top one. “The oven's not working yet, but the pancakes are still warm. Can you yell for Andrew and Thomas to come in?”

He hesitated. The scene seemed so strange, like he had gone back in time to when he and Amanda used to play that silly game of house. Only now it seemed almost real.

“Josiah?” She looked at him as she set the pancakes on the table. “If we wait much longer, they'll be cold.”

He nodded and walked out the back door. Obviously the boys had made up with each other, because they were both climbing the old oak tree about twenty yards from the house. He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled. “Andrew! Thomas! Breakfast,
nau
!”

The boys scrambled down the tree and broke into a sprint. He could tell they were racing, and the sight brought a smile to his face. A couple of inches shorter than his older brother, Thomas had a more natural stride. But Andrew had a superior kick, which he employed when they were a few feet from the house. They finished even.

“I . . . won!” Andrew said, gasping for air.

“
Nee
,” Thomas said, not sounding quite as winded. “I won.” He looked up at Josiah. “Didn't I, Mr. Josiah?”

Josiah cleared his throat, trying to maintain a serious tone. “It was a tie.”

“Naw,” Andrew said. “I beat him by a mile.”

“Mr. Josiah said it was a tie, so it was a tie.” Thomas gazed up at him again.

A mix of pride and possessiveness filtered through Josiah as he took in the young boy's admiring gaze. To be considered with such unabashed regard was humbling. Unable to stop himself, he reached out and ruffled Thomas's hair.

“What's taking you so long?” Amanda appeared on the back stoop. She looked at her brothers. “Wash up now. I fixed your favorite—pancakes and bacon.”

“Awesome!” Andrew and Thomas gave each other a high five, then ran inside the house.

Josiah turned around and faced Amanda. “You didn't have to make breakfast, you know.”

Instead of protesting as he expected, she simply smiled, winked at him, then went back inside the house.

He let out a sigh. Pancakes and a beautiful woman. How could he resist that? Somehow he had to try. But not until
after
breakfast.

Andrew and Thomas inhaled their food, and Amanda sent them outside to play again until she and Josiah were finished eating. Then they could all get started on the work of the day.

She cut her pancake in half, then in quarters before pouring a small amount of syrup over the pieces. Glancing up, she noticed Josiah had his head down again, eating nearly as fast as the boys had. “Is my cooking that bad?”

He glanced up, one protruding cheek stuffed with food. “What?”

“The food. Is it so bad you can't slow down and taste it?”

A sheepish expression crossed his features. He chewed, slowly, and swallowed. “Just the opposite. It's very tasty.”

She smiled. “I'm glad you enjoy it. I think you'll enjoy it more if you don't stuff it down your throat.”

“Are you telling me how to eat my breakfast?”

“I suppose I am. Seems to me you need some tutoring in that area.”

“Is that so?” Moving in slow motion, he picked up a piece of bacon and brought it to his mouth, then chewed with exaggerated movements. “Is that better?”

She giggled. “Much.” Finally. This was the Josiah she remembered. Playful. Funny. Not sullen and somber. She held out the almost-empty platter of pancakes to him. “Do you want any more?”

“Best not.” He patted his flat stomach. “I've eaten more than enough.”

Clearly it was a compliment on her cooking, and she took it. Rising from her chair, she started clearing the table. She was surprised and pleased when he helped out. After putting the dishes in the sink, she turned around and looked at him. “Rachel was going to come today, but she and Hannah are helping
Mamm
repair a few of the boys' pants. They go through clothes like you wouldn't believe. I thought I'd work in the living room today. That shouldn't take that long. Unless the bathroom needs cleaning first? After seeing the kitchen, I can only imagine what it looks li—”

“Amanda.”

The soft way he said her name made her shut her mouth.

He glanced down at his feet, then shifted from one to the other before looking up, all traces of his earlier playfulness gone. “I know I've said this before, and I really, really appreciate your help, but you can't keep doing this.”

She tilted her head. “And as
I've
said before, I don't mind. I have
Mamm
's blessing, and as long as my chores are done at home, it's no problem to give you a hand.”

He shook his head. “You're not understanding me. I don't
want
you to help me.” His gaze hardened. “I don't want you here.”

Leaning against the sink, she crossed her arms over her chest, hurt. “Why not?”

“Does it matter why?”

“
Ya
, Josiah, it does. You can't just say you don't want me here and then not explain.”

He threaded his fingers through his hair. “Okay, you want an explanation, here it is. I came back to Paradise for one reason—to fix this house up enough so that it will sell. Once I've done that, I'm putting it on the market. And when it sells, I'm taking the money and going to Ohio.”

“You're not staying?”

“
Nee
. I never planned to. So as you can see, there's no point in your being here.”

“But our friendship—”

“Look, Amanda. After I'm gone, we'll never see each other again. That's the way it has to be. That's the way I
want
it to be. I'll pay you for the food you brought yesterday and this morning, but after that I don't want you to bother coming over here.”

Awareness dawned, and she felt like a fool. He had a girlfriend waiting for him in Ohio. How could she be so stupid? He was already spoken for, and it wouldn't do for him to be spending so much time with another woman, even though they were only friends.

Meeting his gaze, she realized that her mother had been right all along. Nothing was the same between them. Too much time had passed, and too much distance had separated them. Josiah seemed like a stranger to her because he truly was. And he seemed content to keep things that way.

“I understand,” she said, turning her back to him. She blinked back tears, unwilling to let him see her mourn as he pounded the last nail in the coffin of their friendship. “I'll finish up the dishes,” she said, distressed at the thickness in her voice. “Then the boys and I will
geh
. You don't have to worry, Josiah. We won't bother you again.”

Silence surrounded her, and she knew he hadn't moved. After a long moment, she heard him walk out the kitchen door. Only then did she let the tears fall.

“Mr. Josiah!”

Clenching his jaw, Josiah stalked past Andrew and Thomas, ignoring their calling out his name. Bile clawed up his throat as the image of Amanda's stricken expression rewound itself in his mind. He had finally gotten through to her, although it had nearly killed him to do it.

“Mr. Josiah, wait up!”

He continued to walk toward the barn. He had hurt her once again. Not physically, as he had yesterday, but deeply nevertheless. He had seen it on her face, heard it in the tone of her voice. Seen it in the tears she tried to keep from him.

For a split second he had thought to put his arms around her, to apologize for being so harsh. But he stopped himself. She said she'd leave him alone, and that was what he had wanted all along.

“Mr. Josiah!”

He spun around in front of the barn entrance. “What do you want?”

Both Andrew and Thomas shrank back. “We just wanted to know how we could help you today.”

“You can help by going home.”

“But—”

“
Geh!
Get out of here!”

Andrew turned around and ran back to the house like he had flames licking at his heels. But Thomas didn't move. His lower lip quivered, and his hazel eyes, the same color as Amanda's, filled with tears.

Perfect. He'd made two innocent people cry today.

Thomas looked at him for a long moment, his shoulders slumped. He turned around, but unlike his brother, he didn't run. Instead he walked slowly, each trudging step driving a knife deeper into Josiah's heart.

“How dare you treat them that way!”

He looked up to see Amanda storming toward him. The sorrow he'd seen in her expression had been replaced with anger. Her fists pressed against her sides, she stopped short a few feet in front of him.

“All they wanted to do was help, Josiah. They look up to you, especially Thomas.”

“They shouldn't.”

“You're right. Not if you're going to treat him like that.” She pressed her fingertips to her brow. “If you're mad at me, fine, but they don't deserve your taking it out on them.”

The sound of a horse's hooves reached his ears. He looked down the length of his driveway to see a buggy approaching Amanda's house. A superbly constructed buggy, outfitted with as much reflective tape as the
Ordnung
would allow. He knew whose it was.

Josiah had thought this day couldn't get any worse. He had thought wrong.

Chapter Eight

“YOU GOT COMPANY,” JOSIAH SAID.

Amanda glared at him, then turned around to glance at the buggy pulling into her driveway. “I'm not expecting anyone. Maybe one of
Mamm
's friends is dropping by.” She faced Josiah, looking as if she wanted to lay into him again. Instead, she frowned. “You look like you know who that is.”

“Don't you?”

She turned again. A tall, slender man exited the buggy and tied his horse to the hitching post at the top of the Grabers' driveway. Cousin Peter.

“Oh no,” Amanda groaned.

Well, he hadn't expected that reaction from her. “What's wrong?”

Her angry expression had been replaced by one of irritation. “He's been trying to court me for the past year. I've tried to be nice about it and let him know I'm not interested, but he's not getting the message.” She glanced over her shoulder. “I wonder what he wants now.”

Their argument apparently over, or at least postponed, Josiah moved to stand next to Amanda. “He shouldn't be bothering you like this.”

“Maybe he's just dropping off something at the house.”

“Has he ever done that before?”

She shook her head. “
Nee
. He's never even visited before.”

Josiah wasn't in any hurry for her to leave now, not with Peter walking inside her house. He had a small measure of satisfaction knowing Amanda wasn't interested in his cousin. She'd always had good taste.

Within minutes Peter walked out the door, and Josiah hoped he would get in his buggy and take off. But instead he walked right past the buggy and across the yard, straight toward his house. Great. Just what he needed.

“
Wunderbaar
,” Amanda said, lowering her voice and echoing his own thoughts. “He's coming over here.”

“I can see that.”

“What should I say to him?”

He looked at her incredulously. “You're asking me?”

“He's your cousin.” She leaned closer to him. “How do I get him to leave me alone?”

Josiah could think of several ways of convincing Peter to leave her alone, but none of them were appropriate for Amanda to use, or even remotely Christian. He tried to think of a useful response as Peter came toward them with his hat perched low on his head the way he normally wore it, obscuring his eyes.

“Hello, Amanda,” Peter said as he reached them. He stopped right in front of her, completely ignoring Josiah. “Your
mamm
said I could find you here.”