When Hope Blossoms (34 page)

A
my held the telephone receiver tight to her ear, trying to hear the agent’s voice over the sound of her pounding heartbeat.

Mr. Corey’s voice held a note of apology. “It seems the elevator owner was negligent in allowing your husband to perform a duty that rightly belonged to an elevator employee. By convincing us the fall was intentional rather than accidental, the state would reverse its citations and fines. The investigation is officially closed. You’ll receive a full disclosure of our findings in the mail, but I also wanted to tell you personally.”

The rush of relief was so strong, her bones turned to rubber. Amy inched sideways and sank into a kitchen chair. “I appreciate your call, Mr. Corey.”

“Please accept our condolences once again on your loss.”

She disconnected the call, then remained in the chair, waiting for her pulse to return to normal. Songs of praise erupted in her heart. Gabe hadn’t chosen to leave her and the children. And they would be able to keep their home. She couldn’t wait to tell Bekah when school was out.

She pushed up from the chair. Although pieces of an unfinished quilt lay caught in the needle of her sewing machine, she decided to set aside the project and prepare a celebratory dinner. The past two weeks had been fraught with tension as they awaited final word from the insurance agency. Not knowing whether they’d have to leave their new town and school, where the children had settled in beautifully and made friends, and return to Arborville had kept Amy awake at night. She’d told God repeatedly she would go wherever He led, and she meant it, but knowing they could stay right here in their place of fresh beginnings brought a rush of joy.

“Thank You, Father,” she praised aloud.

Bustling to the pantry, she removed the items needed for a pan of chicken-and-cheese lasagna, one of the children’s favorite meals. She’d bake bread, too, and toss a salad. Then for dessert, they’d have brownie sundaes. She had everything she needed, except ice cream, and there was time to drive to Weaverly’s little grocery store before the bus brought the children home. Envisioning the children’s smiles when they found so many treats waiting, her heart gave a happy skip.

And I should invite Tim to join us.

The thought brought her busy hands to a halt midtask. Beneath the modesty cape of her dress, her heart fluttered. What a surprise she’d received last Sunday when Tim had entered the building where the Mennonites gathered for worship. Although attired in pleated brown trousers and a store-bought shirt rather than a Mennonite black suit, he’d sat among the men, joined in the hymns, and followed along in his Bible as if he’d always attended. Then he’d accepted Margaret Gerber’s invitation to join the fellowship for the meal after the service. Although he and Amy hadn’t exchanged any words, she’d been keenly aware of his presence. Of the way he
fit.
And she’d realized anew just how much she desired him to be a permanent part of her world.

Amy dropped to her knees beside a kitchen chair and rested her linked hands on the vinyl seat. “Dear Lord, I asked You to guard my heart against the growing affection I’ve felt toward Tim. I didn’t want to love a man who didn’t live to honor You. But he seems to have changed, Father. I know You’ve used the children and me to ignite the fire of faith in Tim’s soul again, but is our relationship meant to be more than friends? Speak to me, Lord, so I know how to proceed. I don’t want to step outside of Your will for me, but . . . I confess to You . . . I love him.”

She spent several minutes in prayer, sharing her deepest feelings with the One who already knew them intimately. She finished, “Thank You for the pathways You open to us. Please make clear where I am to walk concerning the children’s and my feelings for Tim. Amen.” Having given her concerns to her heavenly Father, she rose, ready to complete preparations for the special dinner. But before she returned to the lasagna ingredients, she moved to the telephone and dialed a number she knew by memory. On the second ring, he answered, and she blurted, “Tim, would you like to join the children and me for dinner this evening?”

“Mmm, it smells good in here,” Bekah called as she charged through the front door, Parker and Adri on her heels. Her siblings dropped their backpacks and raced back outside, probably heading to the barn to visit the kittens Mr. Roper had brought over in a wicker basket a week ago. The kittens—one black with a white bib and paws and one yellow-and-white striped—were cute, but they were really more Parker and Adri’s kittens than hers. They could play with them without her. She tossed her backpack on top of theirs and headed for the kitchen.

Mom stood at the counter, chopping tomatoes. She greeted Bekah with a broad smile. “Hello, honey. Did you have a good day?”

Bekah leaned against the counter, peeking into the big bowl that contained salad makings. Her tummy rumbled. She plucked out a piece of cucumber, stuck it in her mouth, and spoke around it. “Uh-huh. My art teacher said I have a real knack for painting. She encouraged me to take the advanced art class when I’m in high school.” She hoped she’d be able to go to the Weaverly high school. Every night since the insurance man had visited their house, she’d prayed they’d get to stay here. Even though she still missed Grandpa and her Arborville friends, she didn’t want to go back. Mom and the kids were happy here. And to Bekah, Weaverly had become home. “Can I maybe buy some paints, brushes, and canvasses to practice here at home?”

“I think we could probably fit that into our budget,” Mom said. She bobbed her chin toward the table, where their best linen cloth covered the Formica top. “Would you set the table for me? Five plates. Mr. Roper is joining us.”

Something in Mom’s voice made Bekah pause. The way she’d said “Mr. Roper” sounded different. Softer. A funny tingle tiptoed up Bekah’s spine. “He is?”

Mom paused for a moment, giving Bekah a serious look. “Is that all right with you?”

Bekah held her breath. If her suspicions were true, she and her brother and sister might get more than just a new house to live in. They might get a new dad. Her thoughts tripped through the past weeks and all the kind things Mr. Roper had done for them. She liked him. He was nice. Especially to Parker, who really needed a dad. Bekah blew out the breath she’d been holding. She touched Mom’s arm. “It’s fine with me, Mom.”

The smile that broke across Mom’s face made Bekah’s nose sting. She reached for the cabinet door. “I’ll set the table. And I’ll put Mr. Roper’s plate next to yours.”

“That was delicious, Amy.” Tim leaned back and patted his stomach. “The best lasagna I’ve ever had.”

Bekah flicked a quick glance at her mother, a sly smile creasing her cheeks. “Mom’s an awesome cook. The best ever.”

“Bekah, it isn’t polite to brag.” Amy rose and began clearing their dishes.

Tim, watching color flood Amy’s cheeks, stifled a chuckle. He supposed it would be awkward, having your teenage daughter play matchmaker. Bekah’d been dropping hints ever since he arrived for dinner, praising Amy’s cooking and housekeeping abilities. The girl didn’t realize he’d already fallen for Amy—he didn’t need any encouragement to see her as desirable. But it made him happy to know he’d have Bekah’s approval when he finally got up his nerve to ask to court Amy Knackstedt.

Adri wriggled in her chair, tomato sauce smeared across her endearing face. “Momma made brownies for dessert. So lick your fork, Mr. Roper!”

Tim obliged the little girl, grinning when she giggled and snatched up her fork, too. Amy carried a pan of aromatic brownies to the table, and Bekah fetched a tub of ice cream from the freezer. Tim visited with the two younger children while their mother and sister dished up large servings of the dessert. Conversation fell away as they indulged in the treat. Although the brownies were delicious, their flavor couldn’t top the sweet taste of belonging that fully encompassed him while he sat at their kitchen table, sharing the meal, talking, laughing. He sent surreptitious glances around the table while he ate, wondering how each of them would react if he suddenly revealed his longing to be a part of their family circle.

When they finished eating, Amy sent the children upstairs to complete their homework. Both Parker and Adri clattered up the stairs, their giggles ringing, but Bekah hesitated beside the stairway opening. “Do you want my help with dishes, Mom?”

Tim rose. “I’ll help her tonight, Bekah. It’s the least I can do after being fed such a wonderful meal. You go on.” He winked, and he could have sworn she winked in reply before slipping around the corner. He turned and found Amy fixing him with a serious look. His pulse stammered. “Is everything all right?”

“Everything is wonderful.” Yet she looked so somber. She licked her lips, her gaze zipping to the stairway and then back to him. “I’ll tell the children before they go to bed, but I wanted you to know, too. They’ve dropped the investigation. They’ll let the ruling stand that Gabe’s death was accidental.”

Tim acted on impulse. One step forward, arms stretching outward, and in the next second he held her in his arms. His chin rested on her mesh prayer cap. How perfectly she fit in his embrace. But would she agree she belonged there? “I’m so happy for you, Amy. Such an answer to prayer.”

“Yes.” She remained nestled against him for several seconds, her warm breath whisking across his collarbone. Then she stepped back, her face flushed. “It’s such a relief, for many reasons, the most prevalent being able to put to rest all questions of his state of mind.”

Tim scooped up the dessert dishes and silverware and followed her to the sink, where she began running water. “So this means you’ll be able to keep your house. Or . . .” Uncertainty gripped him. She’d come here to escape unpleasant speculation. With the question removed, would she return to her former community? He forced a light tone. “Have you decided to go back to Arborville?”

She looked up at him with an inquisitive expression, swishing the soapy rag over a plate. “Why would we do that? The children are happy here.” The pink in her cheeks deepened to red. “As am I. This is home now.”

He swallowed, fighting a mighty urge to lean down and place a kiss on her sweetly curved lips. But he couldn’t do it. Not yet. “I’m glad. I’d miss you if you left.” He examined her face, searching for signs of withdrawing. Seeing none, he continued. “I suppose you know, Amy, I’ve grown very fond of your children . . . and you.”

Her hands fell still in the dishwater. She nodded in silence, her blue eyes pinned to his. Although she didn’t smile, she seemed to be waiting. He wished he knew what thoughts lurked beneath the bright blue of her unwavering gaze.

“I guess you know I talked to Dillard Gerber last week. About joining the fellowship.”

Those blue eyes widened. “Y-you did?”

He’d never heard her voice so squeaky. He swallowed a smile. “I did. I don’t know how long it’ll take me to get things squared away at my place—get everything approved. I’ve accumulated a lot of worldly conveniences, although the tornado did its best to steal them from me.”

The smile quivered on her lips while her eyes sparkled in response to his teasing.

“And I’m wanting to make a trip to Goshen, to see my whole family. I can’t go until after harvest, though.” Regret twined through his middle. So much time to wait before he could proceed. “But I’m hoping to be fully restored to fellowship by then, so I can receive permission to”—he drew in a deep breath, gathering courage—“court.”