The Amish Widow's New Love (Love Inspired) Read online

  “That’s gut.” Leroy dug in his pants pocket, but didn’t produce anything. “Then the boy can grow strong. I can teach him to sweep the floors and get me my tools. Maybe to do a little staining.”

  “That was always my least favorite part of the job.” Elam chuckled.

  Leroy didn’t. “I have an order due tomorrow that I have to finish. What can I help you with? You didn’t come here to make idle chatter.”

  Elam swallowed hard. “You’re right. I don’t want to take up your valuable time. I’d like to build some things for the auction for Joseph’s—” Elam drew in a deep breath “—and Aaron’s medical expenses. Could I use your equipment? Your saw and sander and things like that. In off-hours, of course.”

  Leroy stroked his graying beard, his eyes narrow.

  “When I ran away, I left you in the lurch, down an employee. And I caused your family a great deal of suffering and pain. What I did was foolish. Stupid. I can’t go back and undo my mistakes, but I would like to move forward. To somehow make up for the accident. And for breaking Naomi’s heart.”

  Leroy took a seat in a rocking chair, one with simple rungs along the back. As he examined Elam, he rocked.

  Elam’s throat closed so he had a difficult time drawing a breath. “Please, I’m asking for your forgiveness.”

  Leroy shot to his feet, the chair still moving behind him. “Forgiveness? That’s what you want? The Amish way is to forgive, and so I have. Ja, right away, in my heart, I forgave you. But forgetting. That is another matter. Every time I help my son in and out of his chair, I remember. Every time his mother massages his useless legs, we remember. Every time I see the sadness in my daughter’s eyes, I remember.”

  Elam hunched his shoulders and rubbed his temples. “For a long time, I avoided my problems, thought they would disappear if I wasn’t around to see what I had done. Life doesn’t work that way, though. The accident, Aaron’s condition, my promise to Naomi, all those weighed on my mind every day. I’m glad you forgave me. And I understand that you can’t forget. But if we could only move forward. Repair the damage between us.”

  Leroy fisted his right hand and pounded on the table. “Repair the damage? Can you fix my son’s broken back so he can walk again? Not even the Englisch doctors with all their fancy medicines and expensive therapy can do that. He will never take another step again. Never. And what about his chances of marrying and having a family? Do you realize you’ve robbed him of that, too?”

  Elam staggered back three steps. His chest burned. “What can I do to make it up to you?” The whispered question reverberated in the room.

  “There is nothing.”

  “Daed, I need to flip that end table so I can finish staining it.” Aaron rolled in from the back room.

  Leroy narrowed his eyes, his jaw tight. “And he can’t do it because of you.”

  A weight crushed Elam’s chest. “I know.” He turned to Aaron and strode toward the back. “Let me help you.”

  The heaviness of Leroy’s stare pressed on Elam’s shoulders, but he didn’t flinch. Instead, he followed Aaron to the staining room. “Can I ever make it up to you?”

  Aaron pointed to the half-stained table. “I don’t hate you.”

  “Glad to hear that.” Still, the young man didn’t even glance in Elam’s direction. “I shouldn’t have done what I did. It’s my carelessness that put you here. That stole your life from you.” He struggled to draw a breath.

  “This is my life now. I have to accept it. Nothing will change it.”

  In other words, nothing Elam could ever do would be enough. He stared at Aaron’s atrophied legs. His stomach clenched. He moved the table.

  “You’re a talented young man. I’ve seen your work. Your injuries shouldn’t prevent you from doing what you love.” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I’ll be going. See you later.”

  When he reached the doorway, he turned. Aaron reached for a can of varnish on a shelf just out of his grasp. He pushed himself up, but it wasn’t quite enough.

  He couldn’t manage a simple task like taking something from a shelf. Elam returned to Aaron and handed him the can.

  “Denki.”

  “Anytime. And I mean that. If there is ever anything I can do...” But what would there be? He left the shop and made his way back to the buggy.

  The home’s screen door slammed, and Naomi descended the porch steps toward him. “How did it go? Is Daed going to let you use the equipment?”

  Elam shrugged. “I didn’t stick around long enough for him to answer. He says he’s forgiven me but can’t forget.”

  “Forgetting is impossible.”

  Could he ever change their minds?

  * * *

  The next afternoon, Naomi tiptoed down the stairs, then held her breath as one she stepped on creaked. After twenty minutes of rocking, her very tired bobbeli had finally given up the fight and drifted to sleep. A few seconds passed. No sound from the bedroom she shared with her son. Gut, she hadn’t wakened him.

  The kitchen sat quiet. Mamm had mentioned working in the garden this morning. From the counter, Naomi drew the wooden box that held all of Mamm’s recipes printed on three-by-five cards in her own neat script. Many bore stains from the ingredients used in them. With twenty-five years of cooking and baking to her credit, Mamm didn’t often use the recipes anymore.

  Where was that one for ice cream? Naomi should have memorized it herself, but couldn’t remember how much of the special vanilla it called for, the secret ingredient Elam mentioned when they decided to make this instead of the shaved ice.

  The back door clicked open and shut, and Naomi peered up as Mamm entered the kitchen, wiping her dirty hands on her apron. “What do you need from there?”

  “The recipe for ice cream. I can’t find it in my own box, and I’m not seeing it in yours.”

  “It should be in there.”

  Naomi rifled through the cards but still couldn’t locate it. “How much vanilla?”

  “Two tablespoons, one of each flavor.”

  “Denki. Now I have to multiply that by how many ever batches we’re going to make for the auction before I run to the store to make sure Marlin can order it and get it here in time. And everything else we need.”

  Mamm pumped water at the sink and scrubbed her hands. “Daed and I have been talking about this auction and your working with Elam. We don’t like it. Remember how you felt when he walked away? He hurt your brother and broke your heart. It’s not gut for you to spend so much time with him.”

  A lifetime had passed since she had harbored any feelings for Elam. Ja, she had been devastated when he’d left, not willing to stay and face what he’d done, not willing to fight for a future with her. But now she was older and wiser. This time, she would guard her heart better and wouldn’t lose herself to his charm.

  “Naomi, have you heard anything I’ve said?”

  Mamm’s question snapped Naomi to the present. “Don’t worry. I’m not the same naive seventeen-year-old I was when I fell in love with him. Joseph is my main priority. And the only reason I’m working on this auction. Simon volunteered us without asking, and I couldn’t turn him down.”

  “Daed doesn’t want to forbid you.” Mamm futzed with untying her apron, her back to Naomi.

  She couldn’t have heard right. “Forbid me? From what?”

  “Seeing that boy.”

  “He’s hardly a child. Nor am I.”

  “Just because you’re an adult doesn’t mean you can sass your mamm. You’re under your daed’s protection once more. Elam’s actions tore him apart. He loves you so much and doesn’t want to see that kind of pain in your eyes again.”

  “They’re making progress on the dawdi haus. Soon, I’ll be back on my own.” Maybe having her freedom again wouldn’t be such a bad thing.

  “But you still nee
d someone to watch out for you.” Mamm turned to face her, faint lines fanning from the corners of her eyes. The cares of the world etched those wrinkles.

  Naomi scraped the chair back and stood, her chest and cheeks warm. She bit back words stronger than her earlier ones. Working hard to keep from stomping across the kitchen, she marched outside. The screen door banged behind her, maybe a little too hard.

  Life wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that Elam left her. That Daniel died. That her parents treated her like she was still a child.

  Out in the farmyard, she kicked at a stone on the gravel driveway. Her breath came in small gasps. Sure, working with Elam on the auction hadn’t been her idea, but she had made a commitment. And despite her parents trying to tell her what to do, she had to see this through.

  Chapter Seven

  Naomi pushed Daed’s favorite brown chair into the first-floor bedroom and then shoved the couch along the living room wall, as out of the way as possible. She had fed Joseph, but he hadn’t nursed long before he fell asleep. And he had struggled to get the milk into his tummy, breathing hard, sweating.

  If only the surgery day would hurry and get here. But then again, if it would just take its time in coming. She could lose her son.

  She shook the thoughts away. The women would be here in a few minutes to finish this quilt for the auction. Every spare second she had between the bakery and Joseph, Naomi worked on the list of items that needed to be done. She had sketched out where everything would take place and was compiling the list of donations. Many nights during the past week, she had worked until Daed turned out the lamp over the table.

  The roasted scent of coffee filled the kitchen as she entered. Mamm drizzled a glaze on the coffee cake while Laura pulled a batch of oatmeal cookies from the oven. Naomi swiped one and popped it in her mouth. “I’ll get Sam to help me set up the form, but is there anything else you need?”

  Mamm motioned to the cabinet next to the sink. “You could set out the plates and silverware. Laura, when you finish there, go find your brother. I saw him heading to the barn not too long ago, probably to pester those poor cats.”

  Naomi got busy with the chore Mamm gave her. “I’m sorry about storming out the other day.”

  “I’m sorry about what I said. Sometimes it’s easy for me to forget you’re a grown woman.” Mamm hugged her. “I know none of this has been easy, especially with Elam back. We have to trust that you know what you’re doing. Your daed and I can’t forbid you from doing what you feel is right.”

  “Denki, Mamm. You do have so much wisdom to impart, and I need to keep that in mind.”

  Mamm drew away and untied her apron. “Well, now, we’d best finish getting ready.”

  Before long, feminine voices and laughter floated from outside as the quilting party arrived in several buggy loads. Sam came in among them and set up the frame while the girls and ladies enjoyed a cup of coffee. Before they even sat to work, Joseph cried.

  Naomi hurried to his room. She picked him up, his few curls damp with sweat. “Oh, my bobbeli, don’t tell me you’re getting another fever.” He nestled against her neck and cried all the harder.

  His cheek was cool against her skin. “What is it, little one? So unhappy you are.” She walked the small room with him, but it took a good five minutes to quiet him. “And now you’re awake, so I don’t know how much quilting I’ll get done.”

  She brought him from the bedroom, patting his back to stop his wailing. “Look who wanted to join the party.”

  The women rushed to him, fawning over her bobbeli, who gave a contented yawn. Were his lips bluer than usual? Was his heart condition getting worse? Nein, it must just be the blue from her dress. Sylvia took him from her arms and cooed over him.

  Talk swirled around Naomi. “Have you heard how Leah Byler is getting along with her twins? Ach, I can’t imagine having two toddlers and two infants at the same time.”

  “What are you planning for your garden this year?”

  “Simon came home from the rehab center yesterday, say not? Must be good to have him home.”

  “I’ve heard tell that you and Elam were seen riding in a buggy together the other day.”

  At that statement Naomi stood up straight. “He took me to the store so we could order what we needed for the ice cream.”

  “So it’s true, that the two of you are working together.” Bethel Byler shook her head as her bony fingers pulled her needle through the fabric.

  Naomi gulped as each of the fifteen ladies stared at her. “Simon Herschberger asked us to help. I couldn’t turn him down.”

  Fourteen pairs of lips tightened. All but Sylvia’s. “Naomi has been so sweet to our family since Simon’s accident. She checks in every time she works at the bakery and swept my floor the other day when my back was giving me trouble. In all my life, I’ve never run into such a helpful young woman.”

  Maybe a hole would open in the wood floor and Naomi could fall through to the cold, spider-filled basement. Anything would be preferable to this. “Really, it’s nothing. I’m glad I can do it.”

  “I, for one, don’t know how you can stand to be around Elam so much,” Eva Miller said as she bent over her work, the set of her jaw firm.

  “It’s not like I volunteered or—”

  Joseph’s wails saved her from having to defend herself. She grabbed her bobbeli from Sylvia and swung around to hide in the kitchen.

  Too bad Elam stood in the doorway, blocking her path.

  Fourteen gasps sounded behind her. And her traitorous heart missed a beat.

  “Hello, Naomi.” Elam’s voice was low and tight.

  She needed that hole in the floor more than ever. Surely he had heard some of what the women had said.

  “Hello there, young man.” Elam rubbed the top of Joseph’s head, and the child calmed.

  She backed up a few steps to put some distance between them. “Joseph’s fussy, and I have to—”

  “He doesn’t look the least bit upset to me.” Elam waved a piece of paper in front of Naomi. “I came to bring you some news.”

  Joseph had to pick that moment to gaze at Elam and break into a toothless grin. Naomi sighed. Just when this day couldn’t get any worse. “What is it?”

  “The Eau Claire and Madison papers wrote back to us. They both want to interview you. And the best of all? The Milwaukee paper wants to do a feature. A big spread in their Sunday edition.”

  The women behind Naomi murmured. “What is he talking about? Newspapers? Big-city Englisch ones?”

  Naomi’s mouth went dry. How could he have blurted out the news in front of everyone? “I... You shouldn’t... I mean...”

  She clung to her child and fled up the stairs.

  * * *

  Elam stood in the living room’s doorway, gazing at the staircase where Naomi disappeared. Why had she run away? Why wasn’t she willing to listen?

  A gaggle of women, all seated around a quilting frame, stared at him as if he’d grown a mane and a tail. “I...I...” Speechless wasn’t his usual condition.

  One of the older women, Ruth Zook, the bishop’s nosy spinster sister, scraped her chair back and marched to stand in front of him. She wagged her arthritic finger. “Just who do you think you are, barging in here, upsetting that poor, sweet girl? Hasn’t she been through enough? And what is this about newspaper interviews?” She shook her head. “Being away hasn’t taught you anything. You always were one to charge ahead and do whatever you wanted without thinking about it.”

  He wiped his damp hands on his broadcloth pants. “She agreed to speak to the reporters to bring more buyers to the auction—the one that’s raising money for her son’s surgery. And we plan to do it anonymously. No one will know who she is, just what the funds that the auction generates is used for.”

  Naomi’s mamm shook her head. “I don’t want to see my daught
er hurt more than she already is. Isn’t it enough that she’s working long hours to help you?”

  Sylvia stood and sidled next to Ruth. “Simon asked Elam and Naomi to finish organizing the auction for him. He trusted Elam with this job, so let him do what Simon has asked, whatever he feels is best.”

  Ruth puffed out her cheeks, expelled the air and whirled to take her seat.

  “Denki, Sylvia.” Without her and Simon, he wouldn’t have anyone in the district on his side. He owed them a great debt. Elam lowered his voice. “I don’t know what I did to send Naomi running like that.” He rubbed the ache in his chest.

  “She is a young mother with a very sick bobbeli. That’s emotional. Be kind and supportive. She needs you more than she realizes she does.” Sylvia patted his upper arm before returning to the rest of the women.

  Elam’s head swam as he left the house. Naomi should have been happy about the newspaper interviews. They had talked about it. She’d agreed to speak to the reporters. Had she changed her mind?

  He kicked at a larger stone in the gravel driveway on the way to his buggy. He’d have to talk to her later, when the rest of the women had gone home.

  Elam hitched Prancer and gave a half-hearted cluck to the horse, who then plodded down the street. He didn’t go directly home, but meandered the quiet country roads. Gray clouds hung low in the sky, and a chilly wind buffeted the bravest of the daffodils.

  When he paid attention to where he was, he found himself down a dirt road and at Miller’s pond. He’d come here every chance he’d gotten as a boy, a fishing pole in one hand and a Styrofoam container of worms in the other. Large trees surrounded the small lake, a few weeping willows dipping their branches into the pond. A foggy mist rose from the water’s surface. A large, smooth rock sat at the pond’s shore. The kissing rock, most people called it. Many young Amish had their first kisses here, stolen pecks on the cheek as early teens.

  He had been among them. Naomi had been the one and only girl he’d ever loved. He doubled over and rubbed his head under his hat. Young, cocky, a braggart, he thought nothing bad would ever touch him. Though he dabbled in the Englisch world by buying a truck and a cell phone, he intended to join the church, marry Naomi and settle into the way of life his ancestors had lived for hundreds of years.