CHAPTER 17
Josh picked at the cookie on his plate. He couldn’t believe he’d responded to Rachel like a schoolboy with a crush. All his old feelings for her had flooded to the surface before he could block them. What was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he control these long-ago emotions?
When he sat in this familiar kitchen, past longings swirled through him as he breathed in air scented with vanilla, peanut butter, and melted chocolate. Special memories pushed to the surface, leaving him yearning for the relationship he and Rachel once shared.
He needed to swim to the surface of reality before he drowned. Picking up another bite of still-warm cookie, he forced himself to close his eyes, blot out the image of Rachel boxing up cookies, and savor the taste of the buttery, sugary goodness melting on his tongue. He almost groaned with pleasure.
But when he opened his eyes, Rachel still drew his attention. He needed to get out of this kitchen. He stood abruptly. “Um, why don’t I take some cookies to your mamm?”
Rachel pivoted to stare at him, surprised and pleased, which only added to his guilt.
“Mamm would love that.” Her grateful smile didn’t quite erase the sadness in her eyes.
Josh broke their gaze. “You look busy. I can fix it.”
Her soft danke touched him. He’d obviously hurt her, but she forgave quickly and easily. Why hadn’t he trusted her forgiveness years ago?
The answer came in a swift, sharp rebuke. Because he didn’t believe he deserved forgiveness.
Tamping down that thought, he rounded the table and removed a plate from the cupboard, careful not to brush against Rachel as he selected two of each flavor. He poured a glass of milk and picked up his plate as well as Betty’s.
Juggling everything, he made his way down the hall. He tapped at Betty’s door with his foot, then struggled to turn the knob when she called out for him to come in.
“Josh!” Her delighted expression reminded him of Rachel’s.
He’d come here to escape his jumbled emotions about Rachel, but he’d come face to face with an older replica. No matter what he did, he couldn’t seem to outrun his attraction to her daughter. Not even by dating another woman.
He lifted his lips in a semblance of a smile. “Thought you might like some cookies and company.”
Betty set a book on her bedside table. “I’d love both, but especially the company.”
“The cookies are better,” Josh teased, and she laughed.
After she’d taken a few bites, they talked about the weather, the children, the work he planned to do. Like Rachel, Betty seemed concerned about paying Mrs. Vandenberg back, so Josh didn’t mention the extra work she’d asked him to do.
Betty’s concerned frown lifted as she confided, “Mrs. Vandenberg asked Rachel to make a quilt for the charity auction and paid a large amount.”
Josh admired Mrs. Vandenberg’s sneaky ways of getting others to accept her charity. “I’m sure the quilt will be worth much more than she paid. Rachel’s quilts are beautiful.”
Her mamm beamed. “I’m glad you think so.”
“I’m not the only one,” Josh protested. He didn’t want Betty to read anything into his praise of Rachel’s handiwork. “Plenty of other people believe that too.”
Betty’s knowing smile revealed she cared more about Josh’s reaction.
Trying to distract her from that thought, Josh added, “Mrs. Vandenberg always chooses the best quilter for the auction.” He didn’t know that for sure, but with her eye for quality, he assumed she’d select only top-notch crafters. The auction had a reputation for bringing in massive amounts of money for charity.
“Jah, many women who stay with me while Rachel’s at church have complimented her designs and lovely stitching.” Betty tried to appear modest, but pride for her daughter shone through.
Josh didn’t blame her. She did have an exceptional daughter. One he’d come back here to escape. Instead, he’d ended up talking about her.
“I should get back to work,” he said, standing and reaching for Betty’s dishes.
“Danke for the cookies and for taking time out of your busy day to cheer up an old woman.”
“You’re not old,” he protested. “And I always enjoy spending time with you.” As long as she didn’t expose feelings and deeds he wanted to keep hidden. She had ways to make him squirm.
“You have a good heart, Josh,” she said as he exited. “Let it lead you in the right direction.”
What did she mean by that? Did she think he was doing something wrong?
As always, after he talked to Betty, his conscience bothered him. He had the same reaction to Mrs. Vandenberg’s cryptic comments. Was God trying to send him a message through them?
When he reached the kitchen, Rachel was fitting the lid on a cookie tin. Beside her on the counter, several more trays sat cooling. She glanced around the kitchen at the dirty dishes and groaned.
Josh went straight to the sink, turned on the water, squirted in detergent, and put his and Betty’s dishes in the suds. “I’ll clean up. It’s the least I can do after eating those delicious cookies.”
“Neh, Josh.” Rachel appeared distressed. “I made cookies to thank you for your work.”
“And I’ll wash the dishes to thank you for yours. That seems fair.”
Rachel stared at him, confused. “Wait, this isn’t right.”
He waved her away when she marched toward the sink to take over. “Go do some quilting before the children wake. You don’t have much time.”
“But—but . . .” She stood near him, blinking. “I wanted to do something for you.” She sounded close to tears.
“You are doing something for me.” He shot her a cheeky grin. “You’re going into the living room to work so you won’t see me stealing cookies.”
She laughed, and the sound pierced Josh’s heart. What he wouldn’t give to make her laugh like that every day.
* * *
Rachel shook her head and left the kitchen. Josh had gotten the best of her, the way he often had during their childhood arguments. While she appreciated the chance to do more quilting, somehow, she’d ended up owing him even more.
His voice floated out from the kitchen. “Yum. How can I ever pay you back for all these delicious cookies?”
His tone jabbed her, just the way he’d intended. Rachel had no doubt of that. And he’d made her face a truth. She didn’t expect him to repay her for the cookies. She’d done it to make him happy. Trying to pay her back would take away from the gift she’d given him. It almost cheapened it by turning it into a transaction.
Rachel pondered that as her needle wove in and out through the layers of fabric and batting. Would she expect Zak and Marianna to pay her back for taking care of them? Of course not.
And gifts that could never be repaid brought to mind the Savior. He’d given His life as a gift. A gift nobody could ever repay. A gift she had to open her heart and accept. She’d accepted that gift, grateful for His sacrifice. Why was it so hard for her to accept gifts from the people He brought into her life? And maybe doing things for her gave them as much pleasure as she felt when Josh closed his eyes and enjoyed her cookies.
Dear Heavenly Father, danke for the gift of Your Son. Please show me how to open my heart and graciously accept the gifts and help You send my way.
Small feet padded downstairs. Zak peeked into the living room, searching for Josh, and Rachel rejoiced he was in the house rather than outside on the ladder.
“Josh is in the kitchen,” she told Zak, and he lit up and bounded off.
A short while later, Marianna woke, and Rachel set aside her quilting. Time to be a mamm. At that, her spirit bubbled over with happiness, despite her pain at Cindy’s passing.
With the baby balanced on one hip, Rachel entered the kitchen to fix a bottle. Zak had dragged a chair to the sink and stood, elbow deep in soap suds, while Josh instructed him. Each time they worked together like that, it floated Rachel off into impossible daydreams.
By the time she had the bottle ready, the last of the dishes had been dried and put away. Josh and Zak put the chair back at the table and shared a cookie.
“Okay if we take a few outside to snack on while we work?” Josh mimicked his boyish begging voice, making Rachel laugh.
Zak mirrored Josh’s pleading glance, and Rachel gave in. “Don’t eat too many. I’m making macaroni and cheese in an hour or so.”
“We’ll save room for that, won’t we?” Josh raised an eyebrow at Zak, who nodded. “But we’d better hurry and get some work done.”
Rachel’s eyes misted as Josh headed for the door, one hand on Zak’s shoulder. She stood at the window while she fed Marianna her bottle. Outside, Josh lugged several posts and fence rails out to the paddock. Zak’s face scrunched up as if he bore most of the weight, even though he only supported the tail end of each board.
The cuteness made her heart ache to give Zak a daed. He gazed up at Josh with such hero worship Rachel wished Josh could stay around forever. Not just for Zak.
* * *
Zak helped move wood even though it slowed Josh down, but he’d brought a hammer and some nails to keep the small boy busy while he repaired the fence.
“Here, Zak.” Josh demonstrated how to pound nails into scrap wood. He’d started six nails, so all Zak had to do was drive them the rest of the way in. “Keep your fingers away from the nails. Hold the board here and hit the top of each nail like this.” Josh demonstrated with the small hammer he’d used when his daed taught him.
Excitedly, Zak set to work, giving Josh time to reset a fallen fence post. “Look,” Zak called a few minutes later, proudly pointing to bent and twisted nails he’d smashed onto the wood.
“Good first try,” Josh encouraged.
He hadn’t expected that small project to be finished so quickly. As a boy, he’d been meticulous, tapping each nail straight down. It had taken a while to get them all flush with the surface. Zak hadn’t pounded them down into the wood. He’d just crushed them messily.
Sucking back a sigh, Josh set up a dozen nails and showed Zak how to hit them carefully to drive them straight down. Again, Zak made short work of all twelve.
“I’ll be right there,” Josh promised as he secured a rail in place. He’d planned to let Zak pound a few nails into the fence after he’d gotten the hang of it. But Josh couldn’t chance it. Not until Zak understood he had to hit them straight.
A bloodcurdling shriek startled Josh. He dropped his hammer and sprinted over to Zak, who was dancing in a circle, shaking his fingers.
“Let me see.” Josh reached for Zak’s hand, but the little boy jerked it away and continued screaming and hopping around.
The back door banged open, and Rachel raced out. “What happened?”
“I think Zak hit his fingers, but he won’t stand still for me to check.”
“Can I help?”
“I’ll grab him. Can you look at the wound?”
A determined look settled over Rachel’s face. “I’ll do my best.”
Josh grabbed Zak around the waist and plopped to the ground, holding Zak on his lap.
Rachel bent down and examined Zak’s small fingers. “Ach, that looks like it hurts.” She held up his thumb and forefinger for Josh to see. The tips of both fingers were red and swollen. She straightened. “Let me get some ice.”
She returned with ice in a towel and a chocolate chip cookie. After distracting Zak with the cookie, she wrapped the icy towel around his fingers. He squealed but soon returned to chewing.
“I don’t like leaving Marianna alone too long.” Rachel turned the ice over to Josh and hurried into the house, returning with Marianna in the car seat and two more cookies. She passed one to Josh and ate the other herself.
He didn’t tell her he still had the other cookies he’d taken out earlier. He’d save them for later. His lips curved into a smile at the way she’d comforted him with a cookie. She must have realized how guilty he felt about Zak getting hurt.
“I should have paid closer attention.” Josh wished he’d done more to ensure Zak’s safety. Hugging Zak closer, Josh whispered, “I’m sorry, Zak.”
Zak’s crying had dissolved into sniffles. He lifted his head to look at Josh. “I did what you did,” he said in a bewildered voice.
“You kept your fingers away from the hammer?” Josh regretted saying that. They already had proof Zak hadn’t.
To his surprise, Zak’s brow furrowed. “But you don’t.”
Ach, Zak must have been trying to start a new nail. Josh shouldn’t have done that where Zak could see him.
“Don’t blame yourself,” Rachel said softly. “It’s not your fault.”
She must have read his face. If only he could hear her say that about the pain he’d caused her in the past.