Chapter Six

Dinah’s skin tingled at the touch of Amos’s hands over hers. She tried to focus on their movements and what he was showing her. Spreading hay was a simple task, and all he’d had to do was tell her to spread it with less force and she would have understood. But she liked his way of showing her a lot better.

“See?” He spoke above her ear. The top of her head reached just below his chin, and he was bending over slightly. The sweet scent of hay, the warmth of the morning sun, the cows lowing from a field far away, and the birds singing their lovely songs . . . all while Amos almost had her in an embrace as they spread the hay. She couldn’t think of a better place to be.

“Try it by yourself.” He released her hands and moved away.

She couldn’t help being disappointed when he stepped away, and a stab of guilt passed through her. She remembered what Anna Mae had said about Amos having difficulty with social situations. He probably didn’t think there was anything unusual being this close to her. Yet she was sure his father wouldn’t appreciate seeing them together like this. He might even think Dinah was taking advantage of him, or that Amos was doing something wrong. Which he wasn’t, of course. For Amos, everything was innocent. She’d have to remember that and keep her own thoughts from making something as mundane as raking hay into a romantic moment.

A few moments later she was spreading hay with ease. When she finished the row, Amos jogged toward her. “Gut job,” he said, grinning.

“You’re a gut t-teacher.” Dinah beamed at him, enjoying the way his smile widened at her compliment.

“I am?”

“Definitely.”

His chest puffed out a bit and she hid a chuckle. She’d never had so much fun complimenting someone before.

“Okay. You finish the piles. I’ll cut the hay. Then we can have lunch. I’m getting hungry.”

Breakfast had been less than an hour ago. And it had been a big one too. Before David and Amos had woken up, Dinah and Aenti Judith made a huge spread—pancakes, bacon, sausage, eggs, bread, butter, jam, and even banana muffins. Dinah had been stuffed by the time she was finished cleaning her plate, but Amos had filled his plate again. “We just ate.”

“I know,” he said with complete seriousness. Then he turned and went back to the hay mower.

She smiled and shook her head. Before long the whirl of the mower drowned out the birds and cows. As she usually did when she tackled a task, she focused her concentration. By the time the sun was straight above her in the sky she was thirsty and sweating, and she had raked several rows of cut hay. Although there was much more work to be done, she was satisfied with her progress.

The hay mower stopped and she turned to see Amos unhitch the team. He led them toward her, then looked at the work she’d accomplished. “You did a lot,” he said. “Daed will be glad.”

She glanced away, but his plain-spoken compliment had warmed her more than the bright sun. “Are you r-ready for lunch?” she asked, even though she knew he was.

He rubbed his flat stomach. “Ya. I have to put Penny and Nickel to pasture. Will you wait for me?”

Did he really think she would walk into his house without him? That she even wanted to? She nodded. “Of course I will, Amos.”

After he took care of Penny and Nickel, she and Amos walked together into the house, both of them covered in perspiration from the exertion and the heat of the day. As Amos put his hat on a peg near the back door, Dinah heard his stomach growl. “You are h-hungry,” she whispered to him.

“Ya. I’m always hungry.”

“I made plenty for lunch, Amos,” Aenti Judith said as she set down a plate of deviled eggs among the rest of the food. Dinah and Amos took turns washing their hands at the sink. Dinah was about to sit down when David arrived, limping.

“I told you I would bring you yer lunch,” Aenti Judith admonished.

“I can eat here.” He scowled as he took his seat at the head of the table. Dinah was struck by the resemblance between him and Amos. David’s hair was streaked with silver and his beard, which was short and looked like it was still growing in, was completely gray. He was lean like Jeremiah, but Amos had his facial features—the square jaw and slightly sloped nose. She imagined that when David was younger he’d been as handsome as his sons. Right now he looked grouchy and intimidating.

But her aunt didn’t back down. “Scowl at me all you want, David Mullet, but I’m going to make sure you heal properly.”

He looked at her, still frowning, but there was a softness in his eyes. Love. He loved her aunt, and from the way she gazed at him, that love was returned just as deeply.

After prayer Amos grabbed the platter of deviled eggs. He was about to put one on his plate when he looked at her. “Would you like one, Dinah?”

She saw David and Judith exchange a puzzled glance, as if they were surprised he’d thought of her first. “Y-ya,” she said, not even able to say a proper thank-you. David was making her nervous. She took an egg from the plate, then Amos took two and set them on his dish.

When everyone had the food they wanted, they began to eat. “Amos,” David said, taking a swig from his glass of tea. “Getting that field mowed?”

“Ya,” Amos said over a mouthful of food. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, only to stop halfway and pick up the napkin next to his plate. He finished cleaning his mouth. “I’ll be almost done by tonight.”

“Almost?”

“There’s a lot of hay.”

“I know exactly how much hay there is, Amos. That’s why you need help.”

“Dinah Keim is helping me. She did a gut job this morning.”

David looked at Dinah, his stern features relaxing a bit. “I, uh, appreciate it.”

She nodded, too intimidated to respond. She was also getting angry. Amos was working hard. David should acknowledge that instead of berating him.

He turned back to Amos. “After you finish eating you need to rake the hay and spread it.”

“Okay.”

“Don’t tarry. You know the hay has to dry on the top before you rake it into a stack.”

“Ya, Daed. I know.”

“What about the animals? They get fed?”

“Ya.” Amos’s good-natured expression disappeared. “I always feed them.”

“Sometimes you forget.”

Amos kept his head down as David continued to talk. “Can’t let anything happen to the pigs, so make sure they get enough feed. Did you collect the eggs this morning?”

“David,” Aenti Judith said, her soft voice holding a bit of an edge. “I get the eggs, remember?”

“Oh.” He glanced down at his plate. “That’s right. Reminding Amos is a force of habit. He doesn’t remember very much.”

Dinah met Amos’s gaze. It hurt her heart to see the shame and defeat in his eyes. Amos had nothing to be ashamed of. His father, on the other hand, was a different story. She couldn’t believe he was talking to Amos as though his son was stupid.

Suddenly Amos pushed his half-eaten plate away, stood, and walked out of the kitchen without saying a word.

“A-Amos, w-wait.” Dinah pushed away from the table.

“Dinah,” her aunt said. “Maybe you should give him some time alone.”

“I-I c-can’t.” Dinah couldn’t help but look at David. His grayish-brown eyebrows flattened above his eyes with disapproval. Of her or Amos, she had no idea. And she didn’t care. She lifted her chin and spoke directly to him. “L-like y-you s-said, there’s w-work t-to do.” She stormed out of the kitchen, clenching her teeth. No one should feel belittled by family. Especially someone as wonderful as Amos.

Amos stomped to the field, feeling anger growing inside his chest. His face was hot and not only from the sun beating on top of his head. He frowned. He’d forgotten his hat. Daed was right about him being forgetful. That just made Amos angrier.

“Amos!”

Dinah’s voice brought him to a stop. Why did Daed have to treat him like a stupid little kid in front of Dinah? She probably thinks I’m stupid too. But it was the truth. He was dumb. He could barely read. He laughed at the wrong times. He was a messy eater. He didn’t know how to talk the right way to girls—or to anyone else.

“Amos?” Dinah came up beside him. She sounded like she needed more air, the way he did after he’d been running for a while. “Here.”

He looked down and saw his hat in her hand. He snatched it from her, then felt bad. He wasn’t mad at her. He was ashamed . . . ashamed of who he was. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

Amos looked out over the freshly mowed hayfield. There was still a lot of hay to mow. He might not be able to mow all of it like he’d told Daed. That would make Daed mad all over again. “For being me.”

Dinah stood in front of him. Her light brown brows looked like two arches above her pretty eyes. “You have nix to be sorry for, so stop apologizing.”

He couldn’t look at her. “I wish I was normal,” he whispered. He’d never admitted that out loud before.

“You’re exactly how God made you.” Dinah moved a step closer to him. “But I know what you mean. I wish I didn’t stutter.”

“You’re not stuttering now.”

Her eyes grew big. “Nee . . . I’m not. But I think that’s because I’m with you. I feel safe when we’re together, Amos. I don’t have to worry that you’ll make fun of me.”

“I would never make fun of you.”

“I know. And that’s why I like you.”

The tops of her cheeks turned pink. He really wished he could draw her portrait. He studied her. He knew she would be leaving in two weeks and he wanted to remember. Her sunny smile. Her warm face. The bright blue sky behind her. His anger disappeared. “You make me feel gut, Dinah Keim. Very gut.” He stared at her and she stared back. He could see sparks of light in her eyes. He wanted to draw those too.

She didn’t say anything. His stomach turned. He’d said the wrong thing again.

Then she looked up at him with a smile. “You make me feel gut too, Amos.” Then she backed away. “We should get to work, ya?”

She was right. Daed would be mad if he saw Amos talking instead of working. He watched her pick up the hayfork. He would draw her tonight, he decided. And he knew exactly where to put her portrait.