Joyful (4 page)

Or maybe, more likely, she was amazed at herself. Because she wasn't dismissing his offer out of hand.

Levi winced. “It wasn't quite like that. I thought you might want to do it because you know us all.”

“I see.”

“Elizabeth, if you don't want to clean, you wouldn't have to. I mean, we almost have the cleaning part down good.” He paused. “Well, except for the laundry. But the cooking?
Jah
, we need you.” He cleared his throat. “And see, Kaylene needs you, too.”

“Why would you think that?”

“She was crying last night at the dinner table. Then she ran off. She misses Junior something fierce. And now that Miriam is in the, ah, family way, Kaylene is a little jealous, too. See, for pretty much her whole life my eldest brother has always taken care of her. Plus, she's nine now,” he added in a rush, saying her age as if the little girl were on the cusp of womanhood. “I don't think she likes having only us men around.”

The way he had lifted his chin and the way he was so obviously trying hard to look lofty and mature almost made her smile. Almost. “It's obvious you've put a lot of thought into this.”

Levi stood up and carried his plate to the sink, his manner far more relaxed now that the cat was out of the bag. “Uh-huh. See, I was talking about everything with Micah early this morning and he suggested that I come out and ask if you'd consider working for us.”

“Are you sure that Randall didn't put you up to it?”

“Oh,
nee
. He'd get mad if he knew I came over here.”

“Is that right?”

“Uh-huh. On account that he used to court you and all,” he explained as he returned to the table and stood behind his chair.

The “used to” reminder stung. But warring with her impulse to refuse Levi outright was the idea of bringing in some much-needed money.

And the sight of that half-eaten cherry pie. There had been something so heart-wrenching about watching a hungry teenager gobble it up. A teenager who hadn't had a mother in almost nine years.

If she didn't help them out, who would?

“Levi, I don't know if I can get away from my responsibilities here,” she said as gently as she could. “I take care of my
mommi
, you know. She needs me.”

He winced. “I forgot about your grandmother.” After stewing on that for a second, he brightened. “But maybe you could just help us out a couple of days a week?” he asked after a pause. “Even if you only came over for a couple of hours at a time, it would be real helpful. If, you know, you wouldn't mind.”

“Ah.” Her heart went out to him, it surely did. But what he was asking would open up a barrel of trouble. She would have to cook for four men, one of whom was Randall. And, of course, she'd have to be away from her grandmother.

But she knew the real reason for her hesitation was Randall. What would she do if she had to be around Randall all the time?

“Don't forget that we'd pay you,” Levi added in a rush. “Micah told me to make sure I mentioned that.”

That caught her off guard. “I see. I wonder why.”

Levi averted his eyes. “Don't be mad, but some folks have been talking about you.”

“Oh?”

“Uh-huh. A couple of people thought you might be having some money problems.”

Now she was sure she was blushing with him. “People are talking about me?” They knew she was struggling? That was horrifying!

“I, personally, haven't heard too much. But Micah has. And, well, you know . . . people like to share news.”

She took pity on him and said what they were both thinking. “Everyone knows that my mother remarried and moved on.”

“Randall did court you for two years, Elizabeth. Micah and I weren't gossiping about you. It's just that, well, we got to know you real well. Micah said he remembered that sometimes you were anxious about paying your taxes and such.”

The awkward reminder hit her hard. She supposed it did make sense that everyone in the Beiler family would be aware of her financial situation. She'd certainly shared a lot of her worries with Randall . . . back when she thought they were mere months away from marriage.

As the silence between them grew, Levi grabbed his hat and slapped it on his head. “I'm sorry if I said something I shouldn't of.”

“No, it's okay. I mean, you were only speaking your mind.”

“Um, Elizabeth, please say you'll think about cooking and cleaning for us. We really need your help.”

Determined to lessen the awkwardness, she pointed to the pie plate. “And maybe bake you a pie or two?”

“I'd love more pie.” Levi grinned. “And maybe something besides potatoes, too. If I never eat another baked potato it will be too soon.” Just as he entered the hallway, he turned. “So what do you say?”

There were a lot of things she could say. Things she should say. The top of the list was that she was going to need time to think things through.

But there was something about the yearning in Levi's eyes that melted her heart. After all, she knew what it was like to be helpless to make things different.

Before she knew it, she nodded. “I'll come by tomorrow and cook supper. But we don't need to talk about how much to pay me yet. I'll come over tomorrow, as a friend and neighbor.”

Levi frowned. “Micah was pretty sure we needed to pay ya . . .”

“I'll talk to him about that when I see him. How about that?”

Pure relief entered his expression. “That sounds real
gut
.
Danke
, Elizabeth.”

And with that, he tore out of the house, taking with him almost half a pie in his stomach.

And leaving her wondering what in the world she'd just agreed to and, more important, why. Had she just agreed to cook supper because she felt sorry for Kaylene and was amused by Levi?

Or did it have more to do with the fact that she was going to get an opportunity to be around Randall again? And that she was slowly beginning to realize that she might have misjudged him?

The moment that thought popped into her head, she firmly pushed it aside. The last thing in the world she needed was to start having doubts about her feelings for Randall. She needed him out of her system, not back in her heart.

“I only agreed to this because Levi Beiler is such a charmer,” she said out loud.

Maybe if she kept saying it, she might even believe it, too.

Judith Knox almost felt like a “real” mother. Almost.

As she sat at the long, scarred table in her parents' home, little James propped on her lap, she knew that she'd surely never felt happier.

Fostering a sweet baby like James had been one of the best experiences of her life. The only negative thing—as far as she could tell—was that there was always a sense that James could be taken from her at any time. And while Ben constantly reminded her of the definition of “fostering,” saying that the social worker had only entrusted James to be in their care for a short time, she was still having trouble coming to grips with it.

Already, she loved the baby so much, she couldn't imagine her life without him.

“Judith, I think little James has almost doubled in size!” her sister-in-law Rebecca, Caleb's wife, declared. “He sure seems to be a happy baby.”

“He is. He sleeps
gut
, too,” Judith answered. Turning to her husband, she said, “Right, Ben?”

“He does, except when he's teething. Which he seems to be constantly doing.”

“That's a little early. I mean he's only four months old, isn't he?” Rebecca asked.

“That is correct,” Judith said proudly. “We've now had him for a little over three months.” Unable to help herself, she gave James another little hug and kissed the top of his head for good measure. “Sometimes I can hardly remember what our life was like before we got him.”

“But you're gonna have to give him back soon, right?” Anson asked.

Her pesky brother's voice cut through the haze of happiness like a dull knife. “Anson, I can't believe you just said that.”

Anson looked at their parents. “What did I say wrong? I thought James was only yours for a little while, on account that he's a foster baby. He's going to go back to his real
mamm
one day soon, right?”

The whole table—all ten people—retreated into silence. If Judith hadn't been holding James and felt the reassuring touch of her husband's hand between her shoulder blades, she feared she would have burst into tears. Or, more likely, yelled at her little brother.

All his life, Anson had had a knack for continually saying exactly what was on his mind. He had no filter; if he thought it, he blurted it. Anytime, anyplace. Unfortunately, he almost always managed to hurt someone's feelings.

Slowly, she took a deep breath and tried to remember that her little brother wasn't trying to be hurtful. No good would come from making a big fuss.

“It's not all just a matter of giving him back,” Ben explained in a matter-of-fact tone. “Kendra is still in jail and isn't supposed to be out for another year or so. And until she is ready to take care of him full-time, we've been entrusted to be James's temporary parents. It's a
wonderful-gut
blessing.” He cleared his throat. “Right, Judith?”

“Oh,
jah
.” And it was true. They absolutely knew that James wasn't going to be their baby to raise. But that hadn't stopped her, in her weakest moments, from pretending that he would be.

Gradually, conversation began again, at first stilted, but then flowing easily as Caleb began telling stories about life at the brick factory where he worked.

Two hours later, after helping to clean up the dishes and the short buggy ride back to their house in town, Judith stood by Ben's side as they tucked James in.

Later, she sat in the rocking chair by the crib and watched him sleep. Praying for his comfort and, selfishly, for her to somehow gather the courage to find the strength to be able to give James back to his mother one day.

It shamed her that she would ever even consider not wanting him to go back to his mother. But that was why she was human, she realized. She was flawed and imperfect. And where James was concerned, more than a little selfish. She needed the Lord's guiding hand—and His grace—as much as anyone she knew. It was going to take a lot of prayer to smile when it was time to place James in his mother's arms and then turn and walk away.

As she continued to rock, she heard Ben go downstairs. Noises drifted up the stairwell. Closing her eyes, she listened to him straighten up the kitchen. Put away her sweater and boots. Fill the teakettle.

Then the front door opened and she heard him rustle with something. Then she heard him mumble something to himself. And then only silence.

That got her to her feet.

Slowly, she descended the stairs, wondering what he could have found outside the front door. Perhaps it was a package? She certainly hadn't expected one.

Ben looked up when she came into view. “Hey, Judith. I was about to come find you.”

“You were?” She noticed that he was holding an envelope. “What is that, Ben?”

“It's a note from Bernie. When I opened the front door to get the paper, I saw it. I guess she stopped by here this evening.”

“That's a surprise.” Only with the greatest effort did she keep her expression neutral as she sat down next to him. Their social worker didn't ever stop by unannounced. She was too busy for that—and besides, that wasn't her way. She was an extremely organized lady. “What does the note say?”

He took a deep breath. “That she needs to talk to us right away. There have been some changes that we need to know about.”

“Changes?” She wrinkled her nose. “What is that supposed to mean?”

He looked at the note again. “She doesn't say. All she does say is that she needs to speak with us tomorrow. That she'll plan to be here sometime before noon. And that if we can't be here, to call from our phone shanty and let her know.”

Her heart started pounding, as did her head. Actually, she was beginning to feel physically ill. “I wonder what has happened now. Do you think something bad happened?” Reaching out, she clutched his arm. “Ben, what if the social workers have changed their minds about us taking care of James? Or maybe Kendra did!” Panic set in. “Can she do that? Can they do that? Can people just change their minds, willy-nilly?”

Ben turned and reached for her hands. “Judith, calm yourself. We'll find out in the morning. I'll stay home from the store tomorrow until Bernie stops by. No matter what happens, Judith, I won't make you face it alone.”

“I know you won't, Ben. You are so good that way.” She tried to smile at him but it took too much effort.

After skimming the note again, he set it on the coffee table. “You can read it if you want, but I've already told you what it said.”

“I don't need to read it. But thank you.”

He stared at her a long moment. She knew what he was doing; he was preparing himself to watch her become hysterical. To break apart like she had when she'd miscarried their baby in the fall.

But she wasn't going to do that. She wasn't going to make him be the strong one all by himself anymore. “I'm all right, Ben. I promise.”

After another moment, he nodded. “Are you ready to go to bed? We should probably get some sleep if Bernie is going to come over in the morning. We might need all our wits about us,” he said with a small smile.

“You go ahead. I'm afraid I won't be able to sleep for a while.”

His smile faded. “Judith, please don't think the worst.”

“I won't. I'm simply not tired.”

“Judith.”

“It's true. I took a little nap with James earlier.
Gut naught
.”

She heaved a sigh of relief when he finally turned away and started up the stairs. She needed some time alone. She didn't have the energy to try to pretend that she wasn't worried sick and on the verge of tears.