Vernon Miller, what in the world is wrong with you?”
Vernon turned around, flinching at his wife’s sharp tone. He loved Ruby, but her angry, shrill voice cut into his ears. They were in their bedroom, and he’d known he would eventually face her wrath tonight. And he did, as soon as she shut the bedroom door.
Not that he didn’t deserve it. He’d handled tonight badly, and he knew it. He’d been aware of it even while he couldn’t stop himself, couldn’t stem the blaze of rage rising in him. Even now anger pounded in his ears and made his chest squeeze. Joel King. Of all the men in Middlefield—of all the men in the world—his Grace had to fall for him. Did she have any idea what kind of man he was? She couldn’t, or she wouldn’t be with him. Of course, he probably had her fooled. He was devious that way.
“Vernon? Did you hear me?”
The whole state of Ohio heard you. He glanced at his hands. They were balled into tight fists. He closed his eyes and prayed for calm. He wasn’t like this. He wasn’t rude. He wasn’t impulsive. And he didn’t hurt the people he loved. But he could tell by the pain on Grace’s face as he’d left her outside that he’d hurt her deeply. But it’s justified. I’ll do anything to protect my girls.
He felt Ruby’s hand on his shoulder. “Vern. Talk to me.”
One thing about his wife—and there were many, many amazing things, which was why he’d fallen in love with her practically at first sight—was her level head. He turned, mollified by her calmer tone. But even as he faced her, he couldn’t bring himself to talk about him. It had taken Vernon a long time to forgive and even longer to forget. Yet all of that disappeared as soon as he saw Joel in his house. He sat on the edge of the bed, his shoulders slumped.
Ruby sat next to him. “What happened to you tonight?”
He ran his hand over his head, feeling the thinning hair on top. He was nearing fifty and showing it. His knees ached when he climbed the ladder, his back cramped when he bent over roof shingles, and his arms strained as he nailed the shingles to the tar paper. He’d weathered blistering temperatures, unexpected downpours, frigid blasts of wind. He’d known what it was like to start over, to worry about feeding a family of six, to have his dreams dashed. And it all paled to the anger and pain he felt right now.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Well, you need to. Because I’m expecting an explanation.”
Vernon turned to her. He owed her an explanation. But no matter how he tried to frame the words in his head, they were clouded by rage. He popped up from the bed. “I said not tonight.”
“Vernon—”
He opened the door.
“Where are you going?”
He stopped. “To sleep on the couch.”
She got up to stand beside him and shut the door. “You’ll do nee such thing.” She ducked underneath his arm and leaned her back against the door, looking at him. He was only a couple inches taller, which meant she could look him in the eye. And what he saw in her soft, gray gaze nearly undid him. “It’s all right,” she said, touching his cheek. She brushed her fingers over his beard. “You don’t have to say anything tonight.”
He slumped with relief.
She held his face in her hands. “But you’ll have to fix this tomorrow. Grace is beside herself, and you owe Joel an apology.”
Vernon’s body tensed again. “Nee, I don’t.”
She opened her mouth, then closed it. “All right. I won’t argue with you.”
Her kind words made most of his ire dissipate. He gathered her in his arms. “Danki,” he said in her ear. “Danki for not pushing this.”
Lying in bed later that night, a single shaft of moonlight coming through the window and his beautiful wife fast asleep beside him, Vernon stared at the ceiling. He didn’t imagine anything being different in the morning, but Ruby was right. He had to explain himself to Grace. He wasn’t sure how to do it without dredging up the past, or how he would handle her tears when he told her, under no circumstances and over his dead body, would she marry Joel King.
Joel had tossed and turned all night, trying to figure out what he should do. This morning when he woke up he hit his knees, praying that last night had been a big misunderstanding and that today he would be welcomed into the Miller family with open arms. Right now, he would be fine with plain acceptance.
He spent the day working with his uncle in their clear-cutting lumber business. Today’s job was short—they were finishing up five acres in Ashtabula County. He was back home by noon. After taking a well-needed shower, he put on fresh clothes and headed for Schlabach’s Grocery, where Grace and her sister Patience worked.
When he walked into the store, he was glad to see there weren’t many customers. Patience was behind the counter, writing what looked like a list on a narrow white tablet.
“Is Grace around?” Joel asked, approaching the counter. He touched his collar, realizing he was about to tug at it, then dropped his hands.
“She’s in the back of the store,” Patience said. “Our boss is out for the day and she’s doing some accounting for him.”
“Think it would be okay to geh back there?”
Patience nodded, giving him an encouraging smile. “She’ll be happy to see you.”
At least her sister was accepting. Joel nodded and walked to the back of the store. He knocked on the door.
“Just a minute,” Grace’s sweet voice sounded from the other side. When the door opened, her blue eyes lit up. “Joel.” She practically pulled him inside the office and shut the door. When she hugged him, he couldn’t help but grin. Suddenly his future wife had forgotten her shyness about public affection, since anyone could open the door and walk into the office at any time.
“I was going to come see you after work,” she said.
“We finished the job early.” He touched her face. “I couldn’t wait to see you.”
“Thank goodness. I was worried you would take mei daed seriously.”
“I do, but not about this.”
She nodded and leaned against the desk. “He’s being unreasonable. I didn’t even see him today. He was up before everyone else and left for work extra early. I can tell Mamm is confused too.”
“Does she know why he’s angry?”
Grace shook her head. “She has nee idea. She tried talking to him last night, but he wasn’t having it.” She crossed her arms. “I don’t know what to do.”
“I’ll try talking to him again,” Joel said.
“Maybe you should wait a few days.” Grace bit her bottom lip. “He might cool down by then.”
“And he might get angry at me all over again.” He shook his head. “I don’t want to wait, Grace. I want us to get married as soon as possible, and right now the only thing standing in our way is yer daed. I went ahead and called mei parents last night. I know I shouldn’t have used the phone. Onkle Abner won’t be too happy about that. But I couldn’t wait until the next time I go back home.”
“What did yer parents say?”
Lines of worry appeared at the corner of her eyes. He brushed his finger against one of them, wishing he could soothe them away. “They said it was about time.”
“Yer only twenty-five.” Her features relaxed a bit.
“Ya, but they didn’t think I’d ever find someone to put up with me.” He chuckled, but sobered right after. “Seriously, they were happy for us. And I’m sure yer daed will be too, once we clear up whatever is going on.”
Grace finally smiled, which made Joel feel better. And optimistic. “How about I hang out around here and drive you home after you finish work? Then I can try to talk to yer daed again.”
“I won’t be finished for another hour or so,” she said, her brow furrowing. “I don’t want you to be bored.”
“I won’t be.” How could he, when he was near Grace? But while he was here, he should find something to do. “Do you have any stocking or cleaning that needs to be done?”
“I know Mr. Furlong has been talking about cleaning out the storage shed in the back. He keeps putting it off. I’m sure he’ll be glad for you to do it.”
Perfect. He still had some nervous energy left, especially since he hadn’t worked eight hours in the woods today. Also, now that he knew he’d be talking to Vernon again in a couple hours, he felt jumpier than usual. “It will be clean as a whistle by the time I get done.”
Grace giggled. “I’m sure it will be.”
Glad to see his fiancée smiling, he set off for the storage shed. He was finishing up sweeping the floor when Grace walked in after she clocked out. She looked around the shed and whistled. “Yer right. It is clean.”
Joel hung the broom on the contraption on the wall that held cleaning supplies. “There wasn’t that much to do.”
“Ya, there was. This place was a mess.”
It wasn’t anymore. This was where the extra groceries were stored, and they had been put in there willy-nilly. Joel had organized them, making room for more supplies and groceries if necessary. He dusted and swept, even shaking out the old mat in front of the door for wiping muddy feet. Yet even after all that physical work, he felt his palms grow damp as he and Grace drove to her house. As much as he wanted to get to the bottom of the problem with Vernon, he wasn’t looking forward to seeing him.
He turned into the driveway, and Grace directed him to the barn, where he hitched his buggy to the post out front. He attached the feed bag he kept in his buggy to Lady’s muzzle, and the mare started munching right away.
“Ready?” he said to Grace, trying to keep his nerves steady.
She patted the horse’s flanks. Lady was oblivious to the tension, happily eating her feed. “Ya,” Grace said, giving her one last pat. “Let’s geh talk to Daed.”
They held hands on the way to the house, a united front. Grace opened the door. Charity was curled up on the couch, reading a book. When she saw Grace and Joel, she set down the book and jumped up. “Yer back,” she said to him.
“Of course.” He mustered a smile. “Won’t let a bad evening keep me away from here.”
“Gut.” Charity grinned, her smile sweet and winsome, but it couldn’t hold a candle to Grace’s.
“Is Daed home?”
Charity nodded, her expression turning serious. “He’s been on the back porch sitting in the old swing since he got home. I don’t know what’s going on with him.”
“None of us do.” She looked up at Joel.
“To the patio we geh.” He breathed in deeply and headed for the back porch.
When they walked outside, he saw Vernon still wearing his clothes from work—dirt-crusted boots, broadfall pants that were almost threadbare at the knee, and a shirt still damp with sweat. Joel glanced at Grace. “You should geh inside,” he whispered.
“Nee.” She set her chin resolutely. “I’m not leaving yer side.”
Vernon lifted his head and his eyes narrowed. He pushed his hat back, revealing his creased, tanned forehead. “What are you doing here?”
“We want to talk to you,” Grace said.
Vernon turned his gaze to her. “Joel knows he’s not wanted here.”
“Daed,” Grace said, her tone tense.
“Geh inside, Gracie,” Joel said firmly. He could see that her father’s position hadn’t changed, and he didn’t want Grace to witness anything unpleasant between them.
“Joel—”
He turned to her, resolute. “Please, Grace. I can handle this.”
She let out a long breath, nodded, and went in the house.
“I made my stance clear yesterday.” Vernon crossed his arms, revealing biceps that rivaled Joel’s. He was impressed. “I meant what I said. Yer not welcome here.”
“Why not?” He took a step forward, the image of Grace’s nervous face giving him courage. He didn’t want her to be worried or stressed any longer. “Why are you saying that to me?”
“Because yer not worthy of mei dochder.”
“That doesn’t explain anything.”
Vernon’s left brow raised slightly. “You know what you did.”
“That’s the problem.” Joel held up his hands. “I don’t know what I did. I’ve been wracking mei brain trying to figure out why yer so mad at me.”
Vernon paused. “Think harder.”
“Why don’t you just tell me?”
The older man’s eyes narrowed. “You really don’t know?”
Joel shrugged. “I have nee idea.”
After a long pause, Vernon said, “I wasn’t always a roofer. Do you remember that?”
Joel shook his head, a little embarrassed. He probably should have remembered, but when he was a kid, even into his teens, he didn’t pay much attention to things. It drove his father crazy, and more than once he’d told Joel he’d have to straighten up or he wouldn’t amount to anything. Which was why Joel had decided when he was eighteen he would prove himself to his father and uncle. He would be responsible. In fact, he was the reason his uncle’s clear-cutting business had gone through the roof. Joel had tipped off Uncle Abner to a huge clear-cutting job up for grabs and said he should bid on it. He’d gotten that information after church one Sunday, when he’d overheard some men talking . . .
Oh no. His gut dropped to the ground.
“I used to be in the clear-cutting business. Same as yer onkle and vatter. And yerself. Made a decent living at it too.”
Memories came flooding back. That day in the backyard, Grace’s father and two other men were talking near one of the tables. Joel had been playing catch with a few of the other kids, and one of them had thrown the ball past him. He was retrieving it when he heard the men talking.
“Fifty acres?” one of the men said.
Vernon nodded. “Fifty acres. Biggest opportunity around here.”
“I can’t believe the old man decided to give in,” another man said. “Every lumber company around here has been trying to get Douglas Quartermaine to sell his wood for years.”
“And he’s finally doing it.” Vernon grinned.
Joel bent and picked up the ball, tucking that tidbit of information in his brain before returning to the game. On his way home, he stopped at his uncle’s house. Onkel Abner rarely stayed to socialize after church. He was focused on work, so much so that Sunday afternoons were reserved for a well-deserved nap. But Joel had woken him up to tell him about the Quartermaine job.
“Business was slow at that time,” Vernon continued, his tone icy. “Yer onkle and vatter always seemed to outbid me on jobs. They could do it because they had more resources. Money begets money, you know. But I figured I could save mei business if I was able to get Douglas Quartermaine to accept mei bid for his wood. And I almost did too—until yer uncle underbid me.”
Joel wanted to crawl in a hole.
Vernon walked toward him. “That was it for me. I had to fold the business. I couldn’t keep it and mei familye afloat. That’s when I started working for a Yankee guy who had his own roofing business. Been doing that for ten years now. I’m even second in charge, despite my aching knees and arthritic hands. But here’s the rub—I can’t stand roofing. I loved being a lumberjack. And I couldn’t figure out how yer uncle possibly knew about Quartermaine—until I remembered a conversation where his nephew was nearby, lingering as he fetched a stray ball.” He stood in front of Joel, his eyes filled with challenge. “Jogging yer memory now?”
Joel gulped. “Ya,” he croaked.
“I lost almost everything because of you. By the grace of God I was able to get back on mei feet and provide for mei familye.”
“I didn’t know.” Joel gulped again. “Honest, I had nee idea you were going to bid on the job.”
“Why else would I be talking about it?”
Joel couldn’t respond. He’d only been thinking about how happy his uncle would be to hear about Quartermaine—and he definitely was. It was the opening Joel had needed to prove that he’d matured, that he could be a good and responsible worker. And he had been. After that job, his uncle decided to open another lumber business in Holmes County and sent Joel and his brother and father to run it. Joel decided to move back to Middlefield when his uncle mentioned he’d like to retire soon. Joel was poised to take over the business in a couple years, and it was all because he had told his uncle about an opportunity of a lifetime.
He hadn’t realized he’d taken the opportunity away from Grace’s father.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his words sounding lame to his own ears. How could he apologize for inadvertently ruining the man’s business? What could he say that would make up for it?
But he had to say something more. He was Grace’s father, and they would be in-laws someday. Joel would make sure of it. But he could see it would be a rocky road ahead.
“What are they saying?”
Grace brushed Charity’s hand from her shoulder. They were leaning by the patio door, and Grace was occasionally looking outside, carefully so she wouldn’t be caught. “I don’t know,” she whispered. “I can’t hear anything.” She couldn’t really see anything either, other than Joel’s back. He and her father had been out there for a while. That had to be a good sign. Another good sign was that they weren’t yelling at each other, although it would have been shocking if they were. Like her father, Joel was even-keeled. But after her father’s uncharacteristic behavior yesterday and today, Grace wasn’t taking anything for granted.
She saw Joel step back and her father move toward the door. “He’s coming.” She pushed Charity out of the way and rushed to the sink. She turned on the tap and pretended to be in the middle of washing her hands. A quick glance told her Charity was seated at the table, rubbing off an imaginary spot—their mother always kept the table perfectly clean.
Her father slammed the door behind him and rushed out of the kitchen. Grace turned off the tap, her stomach sinking. That wasn’t a good sign. She dried her hands and rushed outside. Joel was just standing there, looking out at the yard.
“Joel?” she said, moving toward him. When he didn’t answer or turn around, dread filled her.
“Joel?” she repeated, moving to stand in front of him. She saw the faraway look in his eyes, the tension at his mouth, the jerking of his jaw.
He finally looked at her. “Gracie . . . We have a big problem.”