The Saddle Maker's Son (22 page)

Susan scraped the food from her plate onto the saucer she kept on the back porch for Butch. The hund was getting a delicacy tonight. The chicken had turned to sawdust in her mouth the minute she peeked across to the men's table and saw Levi looking at her. He'd looked away right quick and so had she. Still, he'd seen her looking at him. She hadn't been able to swallow more than two bites of her supper after that.
Silly woman.
She scraped harder.

Butch raced around the corner and came to a screeching halt in front of her, his nails making a
tickety-tackity
sound on the wooden porch. “Go on, you old hund, eat my supper. You'll like it better than I did.”

She turned and found Levi standing in the doorway, propped up on his crutches. “Do you always have to sneak up on a person?” “I didn't sneak.” He waved a crutch. “Hard for a man to do on these things.”

“Did you get enough supper?” She waited for him to move so she could get past him and back to her dirty dishes. “There's more dump cake if you're interested. Kaffi too.”

“Nee.” He didn't move. “I was thinking I'd like to get a look at
a couple of things at the shop. Tobias is working on a saddle for a ranch hand over by Victoria. I usually do the fancy work, but he's not wanting to take me to work. Says it's too soon.”

He stopped, his breathing hard as if he'd sprinted around the bases in a game of kickball. Why was he telling her this? “I figure I'm a grown man. If I decide to go to my shop, I go.”

“So what's keeping you from going?”

“Nothing, I reckon.”

This was the strangest conversation yet. His face with its skin the pallor of a man fresh out of the hospital turned a deep red. Susan wanted to take pity on him, but she couldn't for the life of her figure out what to say.

“So you want to see the shop?”

Bells dinged in her head. She was denser than the densest stone. He was asking her to take a ride with him. “Are you sure you're up to it?”

His mouth, with its full lips, turned down. He positively glowered at her. “Not you too?”

“Sorry, sorry!” She put her hand on his. Without thinking. When she did think, heat exploded in her head. She snatched her hand back quicker than if he were a rattlesnake curled up on her front step. “I mean, jah, I can go. If you want me to.”

“If you want to.”

“I want to.”

“Your bruder is loaning me a buggy.” He slung himself backward on the crutches, leaving a space just wide enough for her to squeeze through. “I'll leave the wagon for Tobias to take the kinner home once he's worn them out.”

Susan took the opportunity and swiped past him, inhaling his scent of wood and sweat and soap. “I should finish the dishes.”

“We're doing them.” Abigail stood at the counter, both arms plunged into the tub of soapy water, a grin plastered across her smug face. “You did all the cooking. Let Martha and the girls and me take care of the cleaning.”

She cast a knowing glance at Levi, who clomped past, his gaze on his boots, as if he hadn't just asked her to take a ride with him.

“Go on, take a load off.” Abigail cocked her head toward him. “Go find something to do.”

She knew. She surely did.

Martha should do the same. And Rebekah. Where was Rebekah? She should be out with Tobias. Because they were young, they would go later. They needed less sleep. Muttering to herself, Susan marched through the front room with a quick, surreptitious glance at Mordecai. He sprawled in the rocking chair, the newspaper in his lap. He pretended to read it, but she was fairly certain he was actually dozing. Had he known when Levi asked to borrow the buggy that he intended to ask Susan along for the ride? Mr. Matchmaker.

She slipped out front and found Levi waiting in the buggy. “Quick, before the kinner catch on and want to go along.”

Or realized Levi had asked Teacher to take a ride with him. What would his kinner think? Were they ready for their daed to court? Was this courting?

Susan hopped into the buggy and slid onto the seat, careful to keep a decent amount of space between them. Heat shimmered in the air. She patted her face with her sleeve. “Hot tonight.”

The weather. Always the fallback position. Levi nodded but said nothing.

The ride was quiet, but not uncomfortably so. Something
about Levi seemed different. Away from the house. Away from his kinner. He seemed to simply be. He was in control of the buggy, maybe not of his life, but he seemed content to be in this moment.

She settled back and waited. Twenty minutes later they pulled into the new saddle shop. Levi manhandled his crutches, easing himself to the ground. He came around to her side as if to help her down. She smiled at his rueful expression. “It's okay. I've been getting out of buggies all my life.”

She waited while he unlocked the door and opened it. “You first.”

It was warm and dank in the shop. Levi set aside a crutch and began opening windows with one hand. She helped even though his expression said he could handle it on his own. A half-finished saddle sat on a saddletree in front of the line of windows on the east. “Tobias likes the morning sun when he works.” Levi eased onto a stool near the tree and let the crutch rest on his outstretched leg. His hand smoothed the light cream-colored cowhide. “He has a nice touch.”

“He learned from you, I imagine.”

“Have you ever seen how a saddle is made?”

“Nee.”

“You start with a whole cow and a sheep.”

Susan didn't know whether to laugh or simply nod. “A whole cow.”

“The hide. You get two long pieces of cowhide, basically both sides of the cow. And you need all the wool of a sheep for the underside that's closest to the horse.”

“I see.”

He seemed to warm to his subject. “I take a big oval piece of leather and get it soaking wet and throw it over the tree and start banging on it, getting some shape to it. Then I trim away a part and shape it some more and trim it some more, shaping it and shaping it.”

Susan nodded, more interested in the way he moved his hands as he explained it to her. In his head he was making that saddle. “Not much gets wasted then?”

“Nee, not much. Some of it has to be sewn to the cantle. I take about a sixteen-inch piece of leather lace and take this awl and make holes through about an inch of leather and use two needles to sew it down by hand. I can do one in an hour if everyone leaves me alone, but it wears you out.”

“Are you worn out, then, from all these years of making saddles?”

“Nee.”

There was a point to this. Some reason he wanted to tell her this. Wanted her to see this. “Not any more than Gott is tired of working on you, then?”

His gaze lifted and he smiled for the first time. She felt like a student receiving a good grade. “I think we're like that leather in Gott's hands. He keeps shaping us and shaping us, smoothing away the rough edges and cutting away the excesses. He has a pile of shavings around His feet and He keeps smoothing and shaping, thinking eventually He'll see that honed character, that person He expects each of us to be.”

“I reckon you're right.” Susan eased onto a footstool a full yard away from Levi. She cupped her hands in her lap, unable to take her gaze from his chiseled face. “Sooner or later, He'd like to look up and say, ‘It is good.' ”

Levi nodded. He stood, his weight swaying against the crutches. “Exactly what I think. Would you like to try carving something?”

“I would.” Her hands were trembling. He would see and he would know this was the first time in years she'd been alone with a man. The quiver in her voice surely had given her away. “I don't know if I'll be any good at it.”

“The fun is in the trying. Come here.”

She followed him to the counter made of bare plywood. Rows of small boxes held a cornucopia of tools. Above them, he and Tobias had hammered horseshoes onto the wall so leather laces could be hung from them. The air was ripe with humidity and dust and the smell of wood shavings and leather.

Levi handed her the basket stamp he'd held that night on the porch on the Fourth of July. He laid a square patch of leather in front of her, leaning so close she could see the beads of sweat on his neck. He leaned the crutches against the counter and balanced his weight against it. “Hold it like this.”

His fingers wrapped around hers, calloused, strong, yet gentle. Her breathing sounded loud in her own ears. “I don't know if I—”

“Like this.” His hand guided hers and the pattern began to appear, each notch laid against the next, neat and delicate. “Would you like to make a leaf?”

“I . . . jah . . .”

He leaned closer. All she had to do was meet him halfway. Those missed opportunities of years past would fade away and she might find what she'd been looking for all these years. “Levi.”

“I know.” He slipped back a step and held out another tool.
“This is the camouflage tool. It hides things. You use it to finish out lines and corners of other designs.”

The man spoke in riddles. She held out her hand. Instead of giving her the new tool, he took her hand and pulled her toward him. “Levi.”

“I know.” The crutches fell to the floor. He leaned down until his head hovered above her face. His eyes held a torment she knew must be a reflection of her own. His pulse jumped in his jaw. “Gott help me.”

He kissed her. Or maybe she kissed him. Susan couldn't be sure who moved first, but his lips touched hers and it didn't matter. She found herself on her tiptoes, trying to reach more of him. His hands were on her shoulders and then cupping her cheeks. His arms wrapped around her waist and lifted her so she could slide her own around his neck. His lips moved from hers and left small, delicate kisses on her cheeks, her forehead, and then her neck. “What is it about you?” he whispered. “All this time I didn't think of another woman, until you.”

“I'm not known to be irresistible.” She tried to make a joke about it, but heat scurried across her neck and burned her cheeks. Truth be told, she didn't care. She wanted him to kiss her again. Soon. “Is it that I'm your kinner's teacher?”

His chuckle tickled her ear. “It doesn't seem likely.”

Her feet still dangled in the air. He should put her down. She shouldn't rest on his chest this way. She found herself hoping he wouldn't. Ever. “What are we doing?”

“Are you so old you don't remember courting?”

“I'm not old—”

A high-pitched laugh mingled with a lower, rumbling one.
The door opened. In tumbled David and Bobbie McGregor. Levi's son had his arm around Bobbie's shoulders. “Daed, what are you doing here with her?”

Susan found herself unceremoniously deposited on her feet. “What are you doing here?” Levi's growl left no doubt as to his understanding of the answer to that question. “With her.”

Rebekah flung herself in the air, smacked the ball with all her strength, and flopped to the ground. The volleyball zipped over the net and thudded against the hard, sun-dried ground between Tobias and Caleb. “Score! We win. Girls win!”

Tobias planted his hands on his hips, his belly laugh belying the frown on his face. Whooping, Caleb scampered after the ball. “No way, no way. One more game.”

“Nee. No more games. It's too dark.” Tobias started toward the porch. “I can't see the ball anymore. That's the problem.”

“Maybe you need glasses.” Rebekah scrambled to her feet, slapping dried leaves and dirt from the back of her skirt. “It's not that dark.”

“It's time to start moseying home.” Tobias kicked at the stubbled grass with a dirty boot, his head bent. “Chores to do.”

“I'm hungry.” Caleb slapped the ball from one hand to the other. “I reckon Mudder has cookies in the kitchen.”

Hazel took off after her brother. The other kinner followed. “Me too, me too.”

“I guess you'll have to wait a minute or two.” Rebekah eased
onto the porch step. “That's about how long it will take for them to inhale every cookie in the kitchen.”

Tobias settled next to her. She fought the urge to scoot closer. He tapped the ground with his boot. “We could sneak away for a quick ride.”

“Sneak away?”

“Jah. It'd have to be in the wagon.”

“You don't think they'd notice?”

“I think they will eat your mudder out of house and home and then go outside and look for night crawlers and then sneak into the barn to see the baby kittens and then play hide-and-seek in the hay stanchions until we drag them kicking and screaming into the wagon.”

He knew kinner. She fanned herself with her hands, not sure if the sudden heat was from the vigorous game of volleyball or the thought of taking another ride with Tobias Byler. She'd been living for this moment since the last time they took a ride together. Waiting for another ride to end the way the first one did. A flush burned its way up her neck and across her cheeks. “Mordecai will notice.”

“He was nodding off under the
Budget
the last time I passed through the front room.”

“But Mudder—”

“If you don't want to go, then just say so.” His smile seeped away, replaced by a frown that caused grooves around his mouth. “Maybe you didn't have as much fun on the last ride as I did.”

“It's not that.” She'd had more than fun. She'd been overwhelmed with feelings hard to sort out. Careful delight. Fettered happiness. Joy wrapped up with a bow of uncertainty. She couldn't put her finger on it. Did he feel the same way? What ran through
him when their lips touched? The feeling that he'd come home? Or fear of the unknown? Fear of falling head over heels into the deep well of emotion like that which flooded her whenever she slipped too close to this man.

All the same, she wanted that welter of emotion again. She craved it. Craved the feeling of being crushed against his chest. No getting around it. Rebekah stood and dusted off her apron. “Let's go.”

“Fine.” He stood. “After you.”

“Fine.” She stalked ahead to the spot where the horse nibbled at sparse grass next to the barbed-wire fence that served as a corral of sorts. The wagon was nearby. She climbed in before he could start hitching the horse. He glanced back and grinned. “Now you're in a hurry to spend time with me.”

“Nee, I'm not.” She sputtered and stopped. “You just like to give me a hard time.”

“I do.”

“Why?”

“Because you make it so easy.” He harnessed Butterscotch to the wagon and patted her rump. “And because your face gets all pink and pretty when you're mad.”

“It does not. And I'm not mad.”

“Okay, you're not mad. You're flustered.”

“You don't fluster me.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

He hauled himself into the seat, landing too close for her liking. She scooted over. He frowned. “What's going on with you? You act like you're suddenly afraid of me.”

“I'm not scared of anything.”

“Except sitting too close to me. I don't have cooties.”

“I'm not a little kid.”

“Gut. Let's go, then.” He tugged at the reins and clucked. Butterscotch ambled in a half circle and headed for the road. Lights flickered, came closer, blinding them.

Rebekah shielded her eyes. “Who is it?”

“Looks like . . . it's my daed, I think. I didn't know he'd left the house.” Tobias sounded like the disapproving father. “He should be resting. Last time I saw him he was in the front room, talking to Jacob—checking him out, I think. Jacob has taken a shine to Martha—and vice versa.”

“He's a grown man. If he wants to go for a buggy ride, he should.”

“He's still healing.” Tobias pulled up on the reins and brought the buggy to an abrupt halt. “Doctor said he should take it easy.”

“Hard for a man like him to do.”

Tobias didn't answer. His gaze seemed riveted on the buggy. Rebekah followed suit. Susan sat in the front seat with Levi. Rebekah clamped her mouth shut to keep from squealing in a most ungrown-up way. Good for her. Susan deserved her moment. She deserved to find love. Still, it must be hard for Tobias to see his father with another woman, even after six years. “I'm sorry—”

“Who is that in the back?”

Rebekah peered past the headlights, trying to make out faces in the dark. “Is that your bruder?”

David sat in the backseat, arms crossed over his chest, face hidden by his hat.

“This isn't gut.”

If Levi and Susan had gone for a ride, how had David ended up with them? Not exactly conducive to courting, if they were
indeed courting. Levi pulled his buggy even with the wagon. His expression was hidden in the darkness. “Did you know?”

The words were delivered with a biting curtness.

The memory of David with Bobbie McGregor in the fireworks tent surfaced. Rebekah opened her mouth, then shut it. Levi was talking to Tobias, not her. Thank the good Lord for that.

“I knew, but I thought I—”

“After everything you went through, how could you let this happen?”

What had Tobias been through? Rebekah opened her mouth again. Susan shook her head. Rebekah sighed and closed her mouth.

“I didn't let it happen. I talked to him. I said all the things you said to me. He's a grown man.” Tobias jerked his head toward the backseat. “What happened?”

“Nothing happened.” David straightened and shoved his hat back on his head. “Ask him what he was doing at the shop with—”

“You'd do well to hush.” Levi didn't look back, but if eyes could shoot bullets, his would've. “He and Bobbie McGregor came into the shop all cuddled up together.”

What had Levi and Susan been doing at the shop after dark? From the pink spreading across Susan's face, there had been more than one couple cuddling. Did people their age cuddle?

Levi popped the reins and the buggy jerked forward. He swiveled his head as the buggy passed them. “It's time to go home. Gather up the kinner.”

Disappointment curled around Rebekah's heart and squeezed, making it hard to breathe. She would have to wait for Tobias's touch. As much as she enjoyed giving him a hard time, she also enjoyed that touch. That kiss.
Gott, forgive me.
She shouldn't be
thinking of herself at a time like this. Especially about hugs and kisses. Love was more than that. Much more. Still, she couldn't deny how Tobias made her feel, no matter how hard she tried. She slapped away the thought. Tobias's family needed him. His daed needed him. She would do the same thing for her own bruder or schweschder. “It's okay, Tobias, another time.”

He maneuvered the wagon back toward the house. “I'm sorry.”

“Don't be. As you know, we have our share of misadventures when it comes to the Lantz family.”

“Jesse and Leila left because they wanted to worship in a different way, not because they wanted to fraternize with Englischers.”

It was good of him to see the difference. Many Amish—including some in her own district—would not make that distinction. Even Mudder had difficulty doing it. “Either way, it hurts to lose them.”

“I'll not lose David.”

The steely determination in his voice told Rebekah he wasn't a man easily deterred when he made up his mind about something. Had he made up his mind about her? His touch said he had.
Thank You, Gott.
“What did your daed mean about ‘after all you've been through'?”

Tobias parked the wagon next to the fence with a soft, “Whoa.” They sat without talking for a minute or two. He wound the reins around his left hand and then unwound them. “It pains me to tell you this, but it might be you have a right to know. If things go the way I hope they will.”

“Know what?” More importantly, what things and what way did he want them to go?

“Up north, I got tangled up with an Englisch girl.”

“Was it serious?”

“I loved her.”

A pain as sharp as the crunch of a bone crushed under a two-ton horse sliced through Rebekah's chest. He'd loved another. His heart had been taken. She heaved a breath. Past tense. He loved her in the past. Not now. Not anymore. Rebekah took another breath and interlocked her fingers in her lap to keep them still. Her throat hurt from swallowing inexplicable tears. He had loved another. She was no one's first. “What happened?”

“I realized it was a mistake. That's why we moved down here.” He cleared his throat. “I chose my district, my family, my faith over Serena.”

Serena. What a nice name. Rebekah could imagine her. Long black hair, dark eyes, lipstick and eye makeup. Jeans and blouses that left nothing to the imagination. How did a Plain woman compete with that? Nee, she didn't have to compete. Tobias chose long before he met her. “But still, you loved her.”

“Ripped my heart in two, but I know it was the right thing. I am Plain. However I felt about Serena, I did not have those feelings for her way of life.”

“But she felt the same about you?”

“She said she did. I believe she did. She'll never forgive me, I reckon.”

“And now you're over her?”

“I regret causing her hurt. I regret letting it go as far as I did. For not showing better judgment and restraint.” Tobias swiveled on the seat so he faced her. “Serena was—is—a good person, a good woman. Smart and kind. I hurt her and what I did was wrong. I asked her to forgive me and she said she did, but I know she didn't understand. She couldn't.”

For a man like Tobias to like, even love her, Serena would have to be that kind of woman. Someone who could hold her own with him. Questions bombarded Rebekah like tiny, razor-sharp knives that pricked and wounded. Would he feel that way about her, given time? Did she have the qualities that would make him want to be with her and no one else? Keeping her gaze on the corral fence, she cleared her throat. “Your love sound strong.”

“It was. It had to be in order to drive me from all that I know and believe in.”

“How do you know you won't ever do that again?”

“You mean how do
you
know I won't do it again?”

“I'm only a Plain woman.”

Tobias's chuckle sounded weak. His fingers traveled across the small space between them and tucked themselves around hers. “You have your own ways. You are Plain in faith, but not so in looks nor heart. I close my eyes at night and I see you smiling at me with those dimples. I can hear your voice and the way you say my name.”

Heat washed over Rebekah in scalding waves. She saw similar images of Tobias when she closed her eyes at night. Now she would see him with another. She tugged her hand free and scooted to the far end of the seat. It didn't seem far enough. “This isn't about looks. It's about a way of life and a way of thinking.” She hopped from the wagon, seeking solid ground beneath her feet. She turned and looked up at him. “I don't want to be anyone's second choice.”

With her last ounce of willpower, she pivoted and plodded toward the house without looking back.