Thirteen

Naomi picked at her breakfast. She loved pancakes, but she didn’t have much of an appetite this morning. She’d stayed awake until after midnight pondering what had happened between her and Amos last night. She’d thought for sure he was going to kiss her. And, right or wrong, she would have let him. But now she wondered if maybe she’d exaggerated or misinterpreted his gestures.

Then why can’t I look at him? They’d bumped heads, and he comforted her. She reached up and touched her forehead, but the bump on her head was gone, as if it was never there in the first place.

“Um . . .” Naomi looked up, and Amos wiped his mouth with his napkin before continuing. But he was looking at Esther. “Last night, there was a man in the yard. It had mostly stopped raining, and I thought I better go see if he was okay or needed something.”

“Did he tell you his name? Was he Amish?” Esther set her fork on her plate.

“I didn’t see him, except from the bedroom window.” Amos scratched his forehead. “He was gone by the time I got outside. I looked around for a while, but I never found anyone. There wasn’t a car or buggy, so he’d traveled on foot. From the window it looked like he had on a straw hat, but I’m not sure.”

“That was probably Ben, Marie’s husband. At the last quilting party, she said he’s getting all ab im kopp.” Lizzie pointed to her head and twirled her finger, then cleared her throat and flashed everyone a big smile.

Ya,” Esther said. “Your teeth look lovely, Lizzie.”

“I’ll probably die from some rare disease.” She stopped smiling and looked at Naomi. “I scrubbed these dentures, but I hope I don’t end up with cat-scratch fever.”

Naomi chuckled and glanced at Amos to see him smiling too. “Lizzie, I think the cat would have to scratch you to give you that.”

“Back to this man.” Esther tipped her head slightly to one side. “I don’t think that could have been Ben. Their farm is two miles down the road.”

Ach, well, who else would be silly enough to roam around at night in the rain?” Lizzie smiled again, even though there wasn’t really anything to smile about.

Esther put her napkin across her plate, then got up and carried it to the sink. When she turned around she said, “I know we don’t usually lock the doors at night, but let’s do so for a few evenings, just to be safe.”

Naomi nodded before lifting her eyes to Amos, who was staring at her. She lowered her gaze, wondering what was going on in his mind and still trying to decide if she’d misread him.

“Look at that.” Lizzie pointed to the kitchen window. “The sun’s coming up, and there are only a few clouds in the sky. Doesn’t look like rain to me. Those fellas in the newspaper don’t know what they’re talking about. They made it sound like we’d be homebound for days.” Lizzie rolled her eyes and showed her teeth again.

Naomi pressed her lips together to avoid grinning. She was happy Lizzie finally seemed to be getting used to her teeth and that she’d gotten over the cat incident—at least enough to wear the dentures again.

“So, it looks like you two can resume your painting.” Lizzie flashed her pearly whites again.

Naomi looked across the table at Amos and forced a smile, waiting to see if he would say anything.

“I’m looking forward to it,” he said before he winked at Naomi.

What is he doing? She glanced at Esther, then Lizzie. They were both wide-eyed as they exchanged all-knowing looks. The wink would only fuel their matchmaking efforts. Things were already awkward enough. Why did he do that?

Naomi was sure her face was red, but she nodded. “Ya, me too.”

“I-I guess I’ll get back to work while it isn’t raining,” Amos said to Esther before he turned to Naomi. “And I guess I’ll see you for painting tonight, weather permitting.”

There was no mistaking the blush on Amos’s cheeks. So, he feels awkward too? Then why wink at me?

Naomi grinned. “So, you aren’t planning on having dinner or supper?”

“Well, uh . . . ya. Of course.” He stood up. “I’m not going to miss any of your wonderful meals.”

Naomi prepared herself for the sisters, and when the front door shut behind Amos, Lizzie started.

“I saw it!” She pointed a finger at Naomi, a huge smile on her face. “He winked at you, and he’s flirting with you.”

Before Naomi could think of a response, Esther pressed her palms together and said, “And did you see him blushing? He’s nervous. That’s so sweet.”

Naomi didn’t know what to say. The wink had surprised her too. She pushed her chair back and began clearing the table, shaking her head. After she placed the dishes in soapy water, she turned around and leaned against the counter.

“I have already explained to Amos that I am not interested in a romantic relationship. And he is still recovering from the death of his fiancée and feels the same way about not wanting to get involved in anything romantic. We are just friends. So, please don’t make a big deal out of a little wink.” She folded her arms across her chest and raised her chin.

“Whatever you say, dear.” Esther nodded, but she was still grinning as she left the kitchen.

Lizzie followed her sister, giggling like a schoolgirl. “He’s sweet on her,” she said before she looked over her shoulder and gave Naomi an exaggerated wink.

Naomi held back a grin. She was looking forward to painting with Amos tonight more than she cared to admit, even to herself.

*  *  *

Amos shook his head as he marched to the back fence. Maybe if he tossed his head around enough, he’d clear the loose marbles having a party in his mind. What in the world am I doing? He had clearly and intentionally flirted with Naomi. And he’d done it in front of Esther and Lizzie.

By the time he reached the back fence, he had a headache from overanalyzing his actions. Or maybe his head ached from bumping hers the night before. He touched his forehead. Nothing was there, not even a bruise.

Then it hit him. He’d flirted with her because it felt good. It was nice to be attracted to someone and to act on it. Besides, feeling good about anything hadn’t been a part of Amos’s life until recently.

But were his actions going to be like taking a step back? Would he scare off Naomi completely? He enjoyed having a friend he was comfortable around. If she wasn’t so gorgeous, the friendship would be easier to maintain without the temptations that went along with Naomi’s looks. He’d thought he was clear on his position about relationships and no desire to have one. He’d also thought he was clear about Naomi’s position and lack of desire to be anything more than friends. But he was sure she’d wanted him to kiss her last night. They seemed to be sending each other mixed signals. Why?

He spent another ten minutes remembering the moment in the living room. Part of him wished he had kissed her, for his own selfish reasons. But he knew they both would have regretted it afterward. He didn’t want to lose her as a friend. They would have crossed a line they’d clearly set for themselves.

Amos’s chest tightened. He hadn’t thought about Sarah even once all day. And that left him engulfed in guilt, but strangely, entangled in his mind with the marbles and guilt . . . there was hope.

*  *  *

Esther was happy things might be moving in a romantic direction with Naomi and Amos, but thoughts about her health weighed heavily on her mind. She’d decided not to go with Lizzie and Naomi to the Bargain Center in the late afternoon. She usually looked forward to the outings, but she was nauseated after breakfast and had skipped lunch, feigning a headache—which wasn’t a lie.

Amos had finished the fence and was splitting wood they’d need for the winter. With Lizzie and Naomi gone, Esther decided to get her most dreaded task behind her. The rain had let up for today, but Indiana weather was unpredictable. She was going to take Gus an entire pie. Why hadn’t she thought to do that before? It would make for fewer trips to his house.

She packed up a chocolate pie since that seemed to be his favorite. Maybe he wouldn’t be in such a foul mood today. It was unlikely, but she’d stay hopeful. She wrapped her cape around her and was only a few steps into the yard when she noticed a car in front of Gus’s cottage—a red car, like Mary said she’d seen.

Esther slowed and considered going back to the house, but she was too curious about the possibility of seeing Gus’s daughter. She started walking again, glancing at the sky, thankful for the sunshine.

When she stepped onto the front porch and raised her hand to knock, she heard loud voices and lowered her arm, knowing she should leave. Instead, she leaned an ear closer to the door.

“Then why’d you even come here if you feel like that?” Gus’s deep voice bellowed out the words. “Just to rub my nose in your troubles? They ain’t my troubles, so I don’t see how it can be my fault!”

“You are even worse than you were when I was a kid, and I never would have believed that possible. You were mean back then, and you still are. I guess I came just to see if growing older had changed you at all.” There was a pause, and Esther held her breath, waiting. When the woman—who had to be Heather—finally spoke again, her language was worse than anything Esther had ever heard.

Esther covered her mouth with her hand, almost dropping the pie. She knew she should set it on the table by the rocking chair, but she couldn’t bring herself to leave.

“Oh, and by the way, Mom died three years ago, in case you might care one tiny little bit.”

Silence.

The door suddenly swung open and hit Esther so hard she almost fell over. The pie wasn’t so lucky as it toppled to the porch and landed upside down.

A nicely dressed lady, who looked to be in her fifties, gasped. “Are you all right? I’m so sorry.” The woman leaned down and picked up the dilapidated pie with the meringue mashed against the plastic wrap that covered it. She handed it back to Esther, who found herself speechless.

“What are you doing here?” Gus’s face was redder than red as he locked eyes with Esther.

His daughter shook her head. “Good luck with him. I’m done,” she said to Esther before she rushed down the cottage steps, got in her car, and left.

“I decided to bring you an entire pie in case it rains. And it will be easier on me to bring you a whole pie even if it’s not raining so I don’t have to sneak over here every day.” She was already wondering what she would tell Lizzie and Naomi about Gus carting her to the tests she was going to be having. She shivered at the thought of being poked and prodded by strangers. “But I’m sorry. I seem to have interrupted you and your dochder.”

“She’s no one to me.” He paused as he lowered his head. Esther felt an odd urge to hug him, but she waited, and he finally lifted his eyes to hers. “That wasn’t our deal. I don’t want to eat the same pie all week.” He glowered at her, shifting his gaze over her shoulder where his daughter’s car had been. Sorrow filled Gus’s expression, no matter how hard he tried to mask it with anger.

Esther took a deep breath.

“This pie is no longer fit to eat anyway.” She wanted to ask Gus if he was okay, but she knew he would only lash out at her. “I will bring you a fresh slice of pie this evening. I think Naomi made an apple one this morning.”

“This will be fine.” Gus snatched the pie from her hands, then slammed the door closed behind him.

Esther peered in the window, half expecting Gus to throw the pie across the room. Or maybe he would save it and throw something else. Even she had been known to throw a small thing here and there out of anger. Instead, he slowly set the pie on the TV tray by the couch, then he sat down, putting his back to her.

His shoulders began to rise and fall, and she watched him cover his face with both hands. Esther’s hand covered her mouth. Is he crying? A crack was forming in her heart for Grumpy Gus Owens, who had begun showing a more human side of himself lately.

She tiptoed to the front door and reached for the knob. Even if he didn’t smell very good, she was going to pull him into a big hug. Everyone needed a hug sometimes, even those who might not deserve one. She couldn’t imagine having a child, not seeing that child for decades, and then having a conversation as horrible as the one she’d just overheard. Her heart hurt for all involved.

When she heard Gus actually sobbing, she placed her hand flat on the door and closed her eyes. Esther couldn’t cure Gus’s pain with a hug, and the intrusion would likely embarrass or enrage him. So, she did the only thing she knew would help Gus. She prayed for him.

After she lowered her hand and tiptoed down the steps, she trudged home. Mary and John were on their front porch. Esther couldn’t hear what they were saying, and she was glad. Mary’s hands were on her hips, and John was leaning toward her—and not in a romantic way. They were fighting again.

Esther lifted her eyes to the sky. Why can’t there just be peace?

*  *  *

Naomi scurried to finish cleaning the kitchen after supper with Lizzie’s help. Amos had already carried the painting supplies to the wagon and was halfway to their spot.

“That boy is sweet on you,” Lizzie said as she climbed a step stool to put a casserole dish on a shelf.

“Don’t start, Lizzie. We are just friends.” Naomi recalled the way Amos had almost kissed her—twice—but recoiled both times.

Lizzie folded the stool and stashed it between the wall and refrigerator, then put her hands on her hips. “You’d have to be blind not to see the way Amos looks at you.” She peered at Naomi. “And you’re not blind.”

Naomi had noticed the way Amos looked at her, especially the night before. “You’re making too much of it.”

Lizzie scooted toward Naomi and cupped her cheek. “Mei sweet maedel, it is okay to allow yourself to be happy. Thomas was a cad.” She lowered her hand. “I never did think he was the one, but you were happy, and that’s all we’ve ever wanted for you.”

“He wasn’t a cad.” Naomi wanted to get to the pond, but she couldn’t have Lizzie calling the man she loved a cad.

“Of course he was. He professed his love for you, asked you to marry him, then fled the district, leaving you embarrassed and heartbroken.”

Naomi tried not to recall her feelings after Thomas had left, but Lizzie was making it feel raw again. “I am going to go paint with Amos, but you need to stop saying he’s sweet on me.” She glared at Lizzie. “And please stop calling Thomas a cad.” Lizzie had used that word to describe Thomas more than once since the breakup.

She stormed out, regretting her harsh tone with Lizzie, but Naomi was having a hard enough time sorting out her feelings without Lizzie making her even more confused.

By the time she got to the pond, she was breathless from hurrying. A chill hung in the air, and she’d forgotten her cape.

“Do you want me to go back to the haus and get your cape? You’re shivering.” Amos already had a paintbrush and palette in his hand. He was wearing a light jacket over his long-sleeve blue shirt.

Nee, I’ll warm up.” Naomi wasn’t sure that was true, but she didn’t want to waste any daylight. She rubbed her arms as Amos set the brush and palette in the wagon and slipped out of his coat. “Nee, don’t do that. I’ll be fine.”

He draped it around her shoulders, gently pulled it snug around her, then grinned. “It’s kinda big for you. But I’m warm without it.”

Naomi was still shuddering, but it wasn’t from the cool air. Amos had that seductive look in his eyes again, the expression that caused Naomi to wonder if she was misreading him. But when he didn’t move and their eyes remained locked again, she waited.

He stepped back and cleared his throat before picking up his brush and palette. He stared out over the pond, his forehead wrinkling. “Do you think we should keep painting this same scene?”

Naomi took a deep breath and swallowed back the nervous knot in her throat. “Um, I don’t know.” She turned to him, but he was still staring out over the water. “I’ve painted this scene a lot. It’s a beautiful spot, and each time I see it differently.

He turned to her and scratched his chin. “We both painted depressing pictures of this beautiful landscape. Maybe we should keep working on it until we come up with a happier and more accurate end result, without all the gray. Something cheerful, like your other picture.”

She thought for a few moments. “Maybe you’re right. It could be like therapy.”

He laughed. “This view deserves our best effort.”

Naomi gave a taut nod of her head. “Agreed.”

They worked in silence, and Naomi tried to brighten up her picture and apply the technique Amos had shown her, extending the leaves on the cornstalks. She stepped back a couple feet and smiled. “I think the therapy must be working.”

Amos set down his painting tools and scooted over to her side. “It’s brighter.” His eyes met hers. “I think it’s probably more reflective of the real you.”

She reveled in the compliment as she looked over at his painting. “Wow, yours is more colorful too. Maybe we just needed each other to point out the gray tints in order to see ourselves more clearly, or at least see who we want to be.”

“Naomi.” He gently placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him. “I know we talked about just being friends, but I feel an overwhelming desire to kiss you, and I don’t know if that’s a gut thing for either of us.” He paused as he dropped his arms to his sides. “I feel something for you, something I didn’t expect.” Shaking his head, he sighed. “Maybe I’m overanalyzing it. You’re a beautiful woman, and I like you, and I want to kiss you.”

Naomi went weak in the knees, her body shaking again but not from the cold. “I like you, too, and I admit I’m surprised that I feel . . .” She searched for a word to explain. “I’m surprised that I want you to kiss me. I didn’t think I’d ever feel that way again.”

“Well . . .” Amos grinned and tapped a finger to his chin. “That sounded kind of like permission.” He tucked loose strands of hair behind her ears, the way he’d done before. And as he lowered his mouth to hers, Naomi knew she was crossing into an area she’d forbidden herself to go since Thomas. But she’d never met a man like Amos, and he made the risk feel worth it.

Just as she closed her eyes, someone called her name.

She backed away from Amos and turned to the voice she’d recognize anywhere. Her heart thumped wildly as she blinked to clear her vision, wondering if she was seeing things. But she wasn’t.

“Thomas,” she said softly as she watched him walking toward them.