Eli lifted the full bucket of milk and moved it carefully out from beneath the Holstein. The cow stamped a foot and gave a low moo. A little of the frothy milk sloshed over the brim and Eli steadied his hold on the handle. He shouldn’t have filled the bucket so full, but he’d been thinking about what had happened yesterday with Lizzie. He never should have kissed her. Never should have gotten so close to her. Not only was he still heartsick over losing Shannon, but he was seriously considering leaving soon. So, what had he been thinking?
Bending over one of the tall canisters, he poured the milk inside. At a sound in the doorway, he looked up, surprised to see Lizzie standing there. After what had happened between them, he would have thought she would avoid him like the plague. He blinked, thinking she was his imagination playing tricks on his mind. But no. She stood in front of the open doorway, her slender body silhouetted by morning sunlight.
“Lizzie-bee,” he whispered her name, or at least he thought he did. He wasn’t sure.
She wore a light blue dress, her black apron and white kapp both crisp and perfectly starched. He caught a brief whiff of her scent, a subtle mixture of cinnamon and vanilla. He wasn’t surprised. She was always baking something delicious to eat.
“Eli,” she said.
“Lizzie,” he spoke at the same time.
They both laughed with embarrassment.
After setting the bucket on the ground, he stood up straight. “Sorry. You go first.”
She waved a hand in the air. “Ne, tell me what you wanted to say. My issue will probably take longer to discuss.”
Folding her hands together in front of her, she waited with a firm, but serene expression. He never should have kissed her. Now, he felt like a heel. He’d simply forgotten himself in the moment. But he didn’t want Lizzie to think he was using her. She already thought he was too worldly, too filled with pride. He’d be mortified if she thought he was taking advantage of her. But how could he explain what he’d done when he didn’t understand it himself?
“I...I’m sorry for what happened yesterday. So very sorry. I’ve regretted it ever since and wanted you to know how bad I feel...”
She stiffened, then shook her head emphatically. “I’m sorry you regret it, but you’re right. It was an accident. It never should have happened.”
She turned away and he hurried to clasp her arm. He didn’t want to drive her away. Trying to be gentle, he pulled her back around.
“Ne, Lizzie. I...I didn’t mean it like that. I don’t really regret our kiss. Ach, I do, but I don’t. It’s just that...”
“There’s no need for you to explain. We won’t discuss it ever again. Please just let it drop now.”
He opened his mouth to say something more. Something that didn’t sound so ridiculous. But she didn’t give him the chance.
“I have a small request, if you wouldn’t mind.” She took a step back, her hands fluttering nervously for a moment.
He stared at her in confusion. That was it? They weren’t going to discuss the kiss? She’d barely let him apologize. There was more he wanted to say. To clarify and try to help her understand. After all, she deserved an explanation. But since he didn’t know what to say, maybe dropping the subject was for the best.
“What is it? Anything you need. Just name it,” he said.
Okay, maybe he was overcompensating now. But he realized that he’d do almost anything for this woman. Anything at all. She’d earned his admiration and respect and he considered her to be one of the best people he’d ever been privileged to know.
“I would like to attend the quilting frolic over at Naomi’s farm this morning. We will be working on some new baby quilts for Abby. The maed would like to go with me, to play with the other kinder.” Her voice sounded hesitant, as if she feared he might think her desires were foolish or frivolous.
He nodded, delighted that she was telling him about a normal, mundane event. “Ja, you absolutely should go. It would be gut for you to get out of here for a while. The roads are clear and you should have no problems driving the buggy.”
After all, tending to the demanding needs of a grumpy man like Jeremiah couldn’t be easy all the time. It might do both Lizzie and the girls good to get out and have a little fun for once.
She frowned. “Ach, I have one problem, though.”
His hearing perked up at that. Lizzie was actually confiding in him, seeking his advice. It was like they were real friends again. He hoped.
He stood close, looking down at her sweet face. “What is it?”
“While I’m gone, would you mind checking in on Daed now and then? I’ve prepared a lunch for both of you and put it in the cooler. When the time comes, if you wouldn’t mind getting it out for him and, you know, seeing to his other needs, I’d greatly appreciate it.” She shrugged, her cheeks flushing a pretty shade of pink.
Without asking for more details, he understood her meaning. “Of course. I’d be happy to look in on Jeremiah from time to time. I’m sure I can help him with anything he might need. And it might be fun to eat lunch with him today.”
A doubtful frown pulled at her lips and he laughed. “Don’t worry. We will both be just fine.”
She showed a smile so bright that it made his throat ache.
“Danke, that would be great. But I should warn you. He’s not happy about being alone for most of the day. He has The Budget newspaper and plenty of other reading material close at hand, but he may be a bit grouchy with you. I think he’s got cabin fever something fierce. Are you sure you’re up to spending time with him throughout the day?”
Her eyes were so wide and hopeful that he wouldn’t have had the heart to deny her, even if he was so inclined. Which he wasn’t.
“Ja, we’ll be fine. You leave Jeremiah to me.” He smiled, trying to convey a self-confidence he wasn’t sure he really felt. He knew Jeremiah didn’t like him anymore, but was determined to win him over. Maybe this was just what they needed.
“Will you be leaving soon?” he asked.
She nodded. “As soon as the maed are ready. They’ve just finished breakfast and are brushing their teeth now.”
“Gut. I’ll get the horse and buggy hitched up and bring them outside for you,” he offered.
“Danke.”
She turned and walked away, a happy bounce in her stride. She didn’t look back at him. He knew because he stared after her to see if she would. And though it made no sense to him, he couldn’t help feeling a tad disappointed that she didn’t.
* * *
An hour later, Eli reached a stopping point in his work and decided to check on Jeremiah. He fidgeted with his hat, feeling suddenly more wary than normal. In spite of speaking with Lizzie’s father almost every day, Eli had yet to be alone with him. Since he’d returned from the hospital, there’d always been someone else in the room with them. Lizzie or one of her sisters. With someone else always around, there had been no opportunity for them to discuss that Jeremiah was the one who had returned Eli’s letters.
Opening the back door to the kitchen, Eli stepped inside. He let the screen door clap closed behind him, purposefully alerting Jeremiah that he was here. Then he thought better of it. What if the man was napping?
“Hallo,” Eli called to the house.
He stepped into the living room, automatically glancing toward the bed. Jeremiah sat reclining against a pile of pillows, a newspaper resting beside him on the mattress. His left fingers still held the page. It looked as if he’d just lowered it there. He wore a pair of black reading glasses and peered at Eli from over the narrow frames.
“Did you need something?” Jeremiah asked, his voice still filled with a disapproving curtness.
“Ne, I just wanted to check on you, to see how you’re doing.” Eli forced himself to put a smile in his voice. After all, this man wasn’t his enemy and he wished they’d never had any hostility between them.
“I’m doing fine.” Jeremiah picked the newspaper up again, as if brushing Eli aside.
“Would you like your lunch now? It’s about that time. Are you hungry yet?” Eli pressed.
Because he’d eaten so early that morning, Eli was famished and ready for the yummy meal Lizzie had prepared for them.
Jeremiah again lowered the paper to his lap and removed his glasses, setting them on top of a pile of magazines that rested beside him. He gazed at Eli for a few moments, his bushy eyebrows lifted in consideration.
“Ja, I could eat now. Why don’t you go see what Lizzie prepared for us?”
Really? That wasn’t so hard.
Turning, Eli returned to the kitchen. He went to the gas-powered refrigerator and opened the door, leaning down so he could peer inside. Sitting on the middle rack, he found two plates covered with plastic wrap. They each contained sandwiches made with thin slices of homemade bread and moist, thick cuts of meatloaf...probably leftover from last night’s supper. A note lay atop a shoofly pie that said: Enjoy! As he got the plates out along with a pitcher of chilled milk, Eli’s mouth watered in anticipation. He never doubted Lizzie’s cooking skills. She would make some man an excellent wife.
He frowned. For some crazy reason, he didn’t like the thought of her marrying someone else. And because of his relationship with Shannon, that didn’t seem right.
He poured the milk and carried a tray of the food into the living room. As he set it beside Jeremiah, he didn’t feel as nervous as before. That changed the moment he sat in a chair next to the elder man and took a bite of his sandwich.
“Ach, what are your plans for the future?” Jeremiah asked.
Eli coughed and took a quick swallow of milk to clear his throat.
“Um, I plan to live and work just as before,” he said.
Jeremiah took a slow bite, chewed for a moment, then swallowed. During the entire time, his gaze never wavered from Eli. “Here in Riverton? Or will you return to Denver?”
Eli blinked, wondering if Lizzie had told her father about the job offer. He doubted it—she had said she would keep his secret. Until he was baptized into their faith, everyone in the Gmay was wondering if he would stay or go. For most everyone, Eli was able to brush aside their blunt questions. But something about Jeremiah’s piercing gaze seemed to look deep inside of him for the truth. Because he’d always respected this man and because he was Lizzie’s father, Eli couldn’t lie to him. But how could he admit he didn’t know for sure what he would do?
“I plan to stay.”
Since he hadn’t decided if he wanted to leave, he thought that was an honest enough response.
“Gut. I’ve seen the way you look at my dochder, and I’ll admit I’ve been concerned.”
What? The way he looked at Lizzie?
Eli tilted his head to the side. “I don’t understand. I don’t look any special way at her,” Eli said, feeling totally confused.
Jeremiah snorted, then took another bite of food, chewed calmly and swallowed before responding. “I don’t want you to hurt her again the way you did last time you left. Nor do I want her to run away with you. You sent her letters before. I imagine they asked for her to join you in Denver.”
So. Here it was. The topic had turned around to the letters. Eli knew it would. Eventually. And he couldn’t deny that he had asked Lizzie to come to him in those letters.
“I didn’t run away. I just left,” Eli said.
One of Jeremiah’s bushy eyebrows shot up. “Is there a difference?”
“I think so. But are you referring to the letters I wrote to Lizzie, which you returned to me? Unopened? Without even telling her about them?”
Jeremiah met Eli’s gaze without a single drop of shame in his eyes.
“Ja, those would be the ones. I don’t want you to do that again. It would hurt Lizzie too much. She is a gut maedel and deserves better from her fiancé.”
“We were only fourteen years old when I asked her to marry me.”
“So? Why does it matter how old you were? Are you a man of your word or not?” Jeremiah paused, waiting for a response that didn’t come.
Once again, Eli felt rotten inside. The foolishness of his youth seemed to keep haunting him.
“I regret hurting her more than I can say. When she didn’t write back to me, I assumed she no longer wanted me and our engagement was broken,” Eli said.
Jeremiah didn’t respond to that. He simply looked at Eli with that calm, unemotional expression of his. Finally, he picked up his fork and took a big bite of pie.
“I don’t regret returning your letters and I’d do it again if the situation was the same,” Jeremiah said.
Eli flinched at these words. He thought their conversation was over, but apparently not.
“I do regret that my dochder got hurt when you ran away to the Englisch world,” Jeremiah continued. “I hope you’ve figured out who you are by now. Because no amount of education, no career or accolades of men, no wealth or worldly success can ever compensate for failure in your own home. Every man must live with the man he makes of himself. As you prepare for your future, I hope you’ll never forget that. Especially where my dochder is concerned.”
Every man must live with the man he makes of himself.
Eli hesitated, these words playing over and over in his mind. Since it was an old Amish saying, he’d heard it many times from his own father. But never before had it struck him with such powerful force. Such meaning.
He thought about the past, present and future, and wanted more than anything to be content with the man he became at the end of his life. To be able to meet the Lord without shame. To know he’d done his absolute best and kept trying even when he failed. To have as few regrets in his life as he could possibly make. But what did that have to do with Lizzie? They were no longer engaged and his future no longer included her.
Or did it?