Naomi put the jams, jellies, and chow-chow on the table, then took a seat across from Amos at the small table in the kitchen. After the four of them prayed, she placed her napkin in her lap, hoping she wasn’t about to overstep.
“How did your checkup go today?” She wasn’t sure, but the circles under Esther’s eyes seemed darker than usual. Naomi wondered if she’d been crying.
“Just fine.” Esther dabbed butter on a slice of bread.
“You’ll probably outlive us all,” Lizzie said as she spooned mashed potatoes onto her plate. “But you cough a lot. What did the Englisch doctor say about that?”
So Lizzie had noticed the cough too.
“Probably just a bit of a cold.” Esther wouldn’t look at any of them. Naomi had never known Esther to lie, but she wondered if she was being completely truthful with them.
“Surely they’re gonna do blood work since you haven’t had it done in so long.” Lizzie sighed as she glanced back and forth between Naomi and Amos. “Esther’s appendix burst when she was young, and it was a horrible ordeal for her.” She looked back at her sister. “But having a little blood drawn isn’t a big thing, Esther. Just a little pinprick. Nothing like what you went through as a teenager.”
A flash of lightning turned their attention to the kitchen window, and a clap of thunder followed right behind, causing Naomi to flinch. She wasn’t fond of storms.
“It’s supposed to rain like this for days.” Lizzie gummed her mashed potatoes, but at least she did it with her mouth closed.
Naomi’s mood fell. No painting tonight.
“Uh . . .” Amos set his fork down. “All the projects on your list of repairs are outside. I’d like to earn my keep for these fine meals.” He smiled at Naomi, which for some reason caused her heart to beat faster. “Are there any inside projects that you’d like me to do?”
“First of all, we’re paying you, so the meals come free.” Lizzie smiled as she looked back and forth between Naomi and Amos. “Just because you can’t paint pictures, doesn’t mean you two can’t find something else fun to do.” She shrugged. “It’ll just have to be something indoors. And no, we don’t have any inside projects.”
Naomi wasn’t sure about that as she thought about the leaky faucet upstairs, but she didn’t say anything because she thought she might be blushing. Lizzie couldn’t have been any more overt if she’d tried. Naomi was glad she’d told Amos about the sisters’ matchmaking tactics. At least he knew what was going on, which made it less awkward.
After they’d eaten and Lizzie and Naomi had cleaned the kitchen, they all retired to the living room for devotions. A knock on the door interrupted them. Esther was closest and got up to answer it.
Gus was standing on the porch with an umbrella dangling at his side. He wasn’t getting wet under the porch overhang, but he was soaked.
“Gus, what’s wrong?” Esther asked, frowning.
“There was a black cat on my porch earlier. And if that’s not bad luck, I don’t know what is.” He cringed. “Blasted thing even tried to run in the house.”
“Whiskers!” Naomi stood up from where she’d been sitting on the couch. “Where is she?”
Lizzie groaned and laid her head back against the rocker.
“It had a flea collar on, so I wondered if it might be yours or Mary’s.” He waved a hand toward Lizzie. “I knew it wasn’t hers. She’s got some abnormal phobia about felines. But I didn’t know if you or Esther were feeding the thing. Or Mary.”
“Amos and I found her caught in a trap the day of Suzanne and Isaiah’s wedding. I brought her home.” Naomi sighed. “But she kept getting out of mei bedroom, and since Lizzie is afraid, I set her up a bed and put food and water in the barn. But then I didn’t see her.” Pausing, she was a bit surprised Gus made the trip in the weather. “Danki for coming over here in such bad weather to let us know.”
“Yeah, whatever. She’s on my porch. You can get her tomorrow. Last thing I need is a black cat making my life any more miserable than it already is.” He locked eyes with Esther. “Seems I’ve earned a piece of pie for trudging over here in the rain to inquire about a stupid cat.”
Lizzie stood from the rocking chair, her fists balled at her sides. “You deserve a kick in the shin is what you deserve.” She took a few steps forward and pushed her bottom lip out. “Just for being you.”
Gus ran two fingers the length of his lips. “Zip it, crazy lady, and for heaven’s sake, put your teeth in. You look like a fish out of water, smacking for air.”
Lizzie moved closer to him, but Esther put a hand out to stop her. “I’ll get you some pie, Gus. I know how much Naomi appreciates you coming in this weather to let her know about the cat.”
“I want chocolate if you’ve got it.” Gus stood dripping just on the other side of the threshold. Esther nodded and left for the kitchen. Gus stretched his neck into the living room, his eyes landing on Amos. “I don’t know how you can live in this nut house with that one.” He pointed to Lizzie.
Naomi braced herself, hoping Lizzie didn’t go after him. Everyone in their district had been taught passiveness, but Lizzie didn’t always adhere to that way of thinking. But she raised her chin, told everyone goodnight, and excused herself to her bedroom, slamming the door behind her. Something she’d been doing a lot of lately.
Before Amos could answer, Esther returned with a slice of pie she’d put in a plastic container. “Here, this should keep it from getting wet.” She stepped onto the porch and closed the door behind her.
“What’s she doing out there?” Amos asked.
Naomi shrugged. “I don’t know.” She had a niggling sense that all wasn’t what it seemed.
* * *
“I know you just wanted your pie, but it was nice of you to let Naomi know about the cat. I think the girl has been worried.” She pushed the container toward Gus.
“I was afraid you’d try to bring me the pie in this weather since you’re a woman of your word and wouldn’t let a thunderstorm stop you.” He paused. “And since you’re all sick and everything, I figured I’d come collect it myself.”
Esther folded her arms across her chest, shivering. “Well, I’m not the woman you think I am, then, because I wasn’t going to venture out in this mess just to take you some pie.”
Gus twisted his mouth back and forth, then shrugged. “I guess you could have brought me two slices tomorrow. So . . . if the weather is bad, I’ll either come here, or—”
“Nee.” Esther held up a hand. “You can’t come here every day for pie. I’ll get it to you or save it up. You won’t miss any.” Closing her eyes, she sighed. “Anything else, Gus, because I have a lot on mei mind?”
“Nope.” He handed her the pie while he opened the umbrella, then snatched back the container. “I’ve got my pie.”
Esther watched him walk away. Today she’d seen a glimpse of the man Gus could be. But no sooner did he appear to be a noble and caring person than he reverted to the grouch they’d always known.
She went back into the living room. Naomi was on one side of the room, sitting on the couch, and Amos was in a rocking chair. Esther sensed they might have been talking, but all was quiet when she walked in. She thought about how Joe used to love a good thunderstorm. They’d curl up on the couch, snuggling, thunder in the background. She’d miss that man until the day she died, which she feared might be coming sooner rather than later. She needed a distraction, and she had just the thing.
“I have something for you two.” She smiled as she looked back and forth between Amos and Naomi. She held up a finger. “Wait right here.”
She returned from her bedroom with a book she’d found at a yard sale years ago. She’d only bought it for the pretty pictures and because it was only a nickel. But it might come in handy now.
Esther sat beside Naomi on the couch. “Come join us, Amos.”
He rose from the rocking chair and sat on the other side of Naomi. Esther put the book on Naomi’s lap, and Amos leaned closer.
“I bought this a long time ago because I liked the pictures of the landscapes. But it’s actually a book about how to paint landscapes. I’m not saying either of you need a book to teach you, but I thought you might enjoy looking at it.”
Naomi opened the book, then eased it to her right so it was also in Amos’s lap.
Perfect.
After they both thanked her, she excused herself, wanting to give the young people some time alone. At least the book got them on the couch next to each other. She trusted Naomi not to let anything get inappropriate if things moved in a romantic direction, which she hoped would happen.
Esther had a lot to think about. But first she just wanted to have a good, private cry in her room. She’d prayed and prayed for strength, but despite her belief that God heard her prayers, the urge to release some stored-up emotion still overwhelmed her.
* * *
Naomi eyed the mountainous landscape in the book, but she was very aware of Amos’s leg touching hers on the couch. His nearness made her senses alert in an unfamiliar way.
“Someday I’d like to go see mountains like this.” Naomi gingerly ran her hand along the full-color photo of mountains covered in snow with a stunning blue sky in the background. “I don’t think I could ever paint as well as this artist, though.”
“He was probably professionally trained and has been doing it for a long time.” Amos was holding one side of the book, Naomi the other. As he leaned even closer and eyed the painting, she breathed in his scent. He’d showered before supper, and the hint of musk filled her senses as her pulse quickened. Esther kept a basket of assorted soaps in the guest bathrooms, but Naomi couldn’t recall anything that smelled the way Amos did now. She waited until her heartbeat got back to normal before she said anything.
“When I used to paint before, sometimes I felt like it was a waste of time, that I should be doing something more productive, like tackling the mending or ironing, cleaning areas I’d been putting off, or tending to other chores that needed to be done.”
He looked at her, his eyes twinkling in the light of the lantern, shadows from the flames dancing above their heads. “I think it’s okay to just have fun sometimes.”
There was no mistaking the seductiveness in his voice. Naomi couldn’t pull her gaze from his. A knot rose in her throat as blood coursed through her veins like an awakened river. She felt drugged by his clean, manly scent, along with the way he was looking at her, studying her. When he reached up and tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear, the gentle touch of his hand was almost unbearable with tenderness. Her lips parted, and she waited, longing for the feel of his lips against hers.
But he retreated, eased away, and cleared his throat. “I-I guess I should go to bed.”
Naomi wanted to tell him to stay, to hold her in his arms, to remind her what it was like to be loved and protected. But the sting of rejection prickled her skin, even though neither of them had made an actual advance.
“Ya, sure.” When she abruptly stood up, the book fell to the floor. They both leaned down to pick it up and bumped heads.
Amos straightened with the book in his hand, and Naomi raised a hand to her forehead, wondering if his head hurt half as much as hers. They’d bumped hard enough that a goose egg was already forming on Naomi’s forehead.
He eased her hand away, gently lifted her chin with his hand, and peered at her forehead. “Ach, wow. I’m sorry.”
She shook her head and his hand dropped. “Nee, it was just as much mei fault as yours.”
“You need some ice on it.” He picked up the lantern and rushed to the kitchen, returning with some ice cubes wrapped in a kitchen towel. Gently, he pressed it against her head, and she flinched.
“You might need some ice on yours too.” She eased the towel and ice from his hand and tenderly reached up to hold it against the knot on his head. Surprisingly, he winced a little, too, but eventually took the ice from her hand and handed it back.
“Here, take it with you to bed. Mei head is okay.” But he didn’t move, and neither did Naomi. Gazing into each other’s eyes, the heady sensation returned, the prequel to a kiss, something neither of them was ready for. Or maybe they were. Perhaps it would help push them past the darkness they both seemed to be stuck in. But he’d withdrawn from the moment earlier.
Amos slowly lifted his hands and cupped her cheeks. Naomi dropped the towel she was holding, ice cubes tumbling across the wood floor, but even the noise wasn’t enough to break the trance.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” he whispered, still holding her face.
“Ya.” It was all she could manage as she stared into his eyes, again anticipating the feel of his lips on hers. An undeniable magnetism had snuck up on them, but was it right?
He leaned down, his breath warm against her mouth as he pulled her closer to him. Just before his lips met hers, he dropped his hands and stepped back.
“I’m sorry.” He wound around the coffee table and headed toward the staircase, taking the steps two at a time.
Naomi stood with her arms at her sides as the ice cubes puddled on the floor. She waited until her knees stopped shaking, then she picked up the lantern and went to get a mop. She would likely spend the next few hours analyzing what he meant when he said he was sorry. Sorry that he still loved Sarah too much to kiss another woman? Sorry that he bumped her head? Sorry that he didn’t want to lead her on since he had no desire to have a relationship? Or was it something else?
Whatever his reason, the exchange had left Naomi longing for passion more than ever. But there was a difference between passion and love, and the love should come first. She barely knew Amos.
Her thoughts shifted to Thomas. Prior to his hasty departure, she’d thought she had it all with him. He was handsome, and they had a lot in common. Thomas loved animals as much as Naomi, and they planned to have a big farm. And even though gardening was mostly women’s work, Thomas had loved to work alongside Naomi. They often laid on a blanket outside when the sky was clear, wishing on shooting stars and stealing kisses.
What happened? She could still recall with painful clarity Thomas’s words when he ended their relationship outside his parents’ house. “I love you, Naomi, but I’m not ready to get married.” After asking him repeatedly through her tears why he wasn’t ready, he turned and walked away.
They’d both been baptized and begun preparing for a life together. He left town two days later, before Naomi could question him further. Did he not love her enough? If she’d had more answers, would she have been able to move on? She’d likely never know. All she knew for sure was that romantic love caused unbearable pain when it didn’t work out.
No matter her attraction to Amos, she was going to need to keep some distance between them.
* * *
Amos sat on the side of his bed, resting his elbows on his knees as he held his head in his hands. His head was splitting, but not from the bump on his noggin. He’d come close to kissing Naomi. Twice. A combination of longing and guilt consumed him. Even though he wasn’t interested in a relationship, he couldn’t deny his attraction to her. If he continued to live here with her, he wasn’t sure he could harness his temptation. Sarah had been his entire world. How could he be so desirous of a woman he barely knew?
Lightning lit up the night sky, followed by claps of thunder that were becoming less frequent. The storm was moving out. Maybe Lizzie was wrong about it raining for days.
He slipped out of his slacks, took off his shirt, and got into bed. Closing his eyes, he pictured Sarah, her bright blue eyes, the way her cheeks dimpled when she laughed—which had been often—and every curve of her body in just the right place. He was caught off guard when the image began to fade, something that had never happened before. He couldn’t visualize Sarah as clearly. As Naomi crept into his mind, he could see her brown doe eyes longing for him to kiss her. Shaking his head, he tried to clear the vision, but as he tried to sleep, she was all he could see.
Groaning, he got out of bed and paced in the darkness of the bedroom, barely lit now by the occasional flash of lightning. He walked to the window and, from the light of the propane lamp in the yard, he could see that it was still misting rain. A movement caught his attention.
Peering out past the lamppost, he saw a man standing in the yard. Amos couldn’t make out any details, just that the person was wearing pants. It looked like he might have on a straw hat, but Amos couldn’t tell for sure. Was the man a threat? Or an elderly fellow who might be lost? He recalled a neighbor back home who suffered from Alzheimer’s disease. He was often found wandering the streets, unable to find his way home.
Without lighting the lantern, Amos put his clothes back on and went to check it out.