CHAPTER 5

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Joanna forced her pulse to slow as Andrew walked into the kitchen. Why had she let him in? She regretted it as soon as he shut the door. Could he hear her heart pounding? She was sure he could, because it was roaring in her ears.

She went to the kitchen table. Cake ingredients were spread out on top. She stared at them, every sense heightened as she heard Andrew move to stand behind her. She had missed him so much, and seeing him, feeling his warmth as he stood close . . . She almost turned around and leaned against him. Yet her feet refused to move, refused to seek comfort from the one man who could give it to her.

“Joanna?” When she didn’t move or answer him, he said, “Please look at me.”

Just as she couldn’t turn him away again, she couldn’t refuse his request. She swallowed and faced him, steeling herself for his negative reaction when he saw the ugly, raised ridge on her cheek.

But he didn’t seem to notice. In fact, his gaze didn’t leave her eyes. The blue depths drew her in, eliciting the tingling warmth of attraction she used to feel when she was around him. It was faint and hidden in a fog of conflicting emotions, but the spark was there. She couldn’t ignore it even if she wanted to.

Still, she tried. She snatched the wooden spoon from the bowl and turned her back on him. A rude gesture, but she couldn’t sort her feelings with him looking at her with so much . . . love.

Love motivated by pity. She had to remember that.

“Joanna, I . . .”

His warm breath brushed against her bare neck, and she froze. Did he have any idea how he affected her? How for years she had wished he would be this physically close to her? She tossed a cup of flour into the cake batter and started stirring, needing to lean against the table for support. Her legs, already wobbly from the morning’s work, were now like jelly. But she refused to collapse in front of him.

Then his hand covered hers with a light, firm touch that made her skin tingle. She glanced at his tan skin against her pale flesh, the roughness of his calloused fingers and palm a familiar sight but not a familiar feeling. With every movement he was confusing her further, weakening her resolve. “I need to finish this cake.”

“You have the whole afternoon to bake that cake.”

“Unlike you,” she said, her sudden resentment not allowing her to soften her words, “it takes a long time for me to get things done.”

“Then let me help. All you have to do is ask.”

She stopped stirring the batter and closed her eyes. His kindness, which he had always possessed in abundance, started to unravel her tormented thoughts.

His strong hands touched her shoulders and turned her to face him, the heat of his palms passing through the light green cloth of her dress, warming her skin. “I want to understand what you’re thinking,” he said. “What you’re feeling. It’s hard, I’ll admit. I don’t have any idea what you’re going through. I won’t pretend I do.” He leaned forward, his voice low. “But I do know this. I love you, Joanna, even though you’re pushing me away. Have you”—his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat—“stopped loving me?”

She fought the tears that threatened to fall. Again, he was seeing her at one of her weakest moments. She couldn’t lie to him, though. “Nee, Andrew. I still love you.”

He blew out a long breath, then smiled. “You had me worried for a minute.” His smile faded. “Can I hold you, Joanna?”

All she could do was nod. He kept his gaze locked with hers as he slipped the crutch from underneath her arm and leaned it against the table. Then he enfolded her against him.

She could feel the rise and fall of his chest, smell the leather and hay on his clothes.

“I should have done this a long time ago,” he said in a low voice.

Ya, you should have. The bitter words came unbidden, but they were the truth. She also should have felt safe in his embrace. Loved, because he had finally given her what she wanted—commitment and a moment of physical touch. And she did feel some security, but she couldn’t completely shake her misgivings. He wouldn’t be holding me if he didn’t feel sorry for me.

He pulled back a bit, his hands still resting on her waist, his smile sweet and gentle. His gaze landed on her scar. He leaned forward, hesitated, then planted a quick kiss on her opposite cheek.

A fresh lump appeared in her throat. He couldn’t even acknowledge that her face was forever ruined.

“I almost lost you,” he said. “That made me realize I can’t live without you.” He took in a deep breath. “Joanna, my proposal stands. I still want to get married. I need to know if you do too.”

Why was he acting like everything was normal? That she hadn’t changed? That he wasn’t different too? I need to tell him no . . . that I’m not ready . . . that we’re not ready. Can’t he see how wrong this is?

But if she said no she would lose him forever.

Naturally he’d be hurt at first. But it wouldn’t be long before he realized the real reason for his hasty proposal and that it didn’t have to do with love. He might even thank her for knocking some reality into him.

Would any of that matter if she was alone? If she lost him forever? Could she stand by and watch him get married to someone else? Because if anyone deserved a happy marriage, a whole wife, it was Andrew.

In the end her selfishness won the mental battle. “Ya,” she said, barely hearing herself say the word. She had to force herself not to rub her nose. Andrew was familiar with her annoying tic that never failed to reveal her true feelings. “I . . . I still want to get married.”

He gave her the biggest grin she’d ever seen. Then before she could take another breath, he picked her up and whirled her around. And for that one brief moment she felt sheer freedom at being spun around in his strong arms. She squeezed his biceps as he set her down gently, his eyes growing wide.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his brow creasing with concern. “I wasn’t thinking.” He peered at her intently. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

She shook her head. He hadn’t hurt her, only surprised her with another whimsical move, one that before the accident would have thrilled her.

“Gut.” Then he looked down at his feet. Within seconds the awkwardness that had dogged them from the moment they started dating returned. Finally he lifted his head and gave her a shy smile. “Danki, Joanna. You’ve made me a happy mann.”

Had she? Or had she assuaged his guilt?

“How does two weeks from Tuesday sound for the wedding?”

Her legs started to shake. “That soon?”

“I don’t think we should wait.” He paused, a flash of fierce intensity appearing in his eyes, only to disappear just as quickly. “Bishop Yoder can announce it next Sunday at church.”

She nodded, although it felt like her lungs were collapsing in her chest. But what else could she do? She was committed now, and she wouldn’t go back on her word. I can’t disappoint him.

“I’ll build an addition on mei haus.” He said the words as if he’d just thought of them. “It will be small, but we can add to it later. Irene and Mamm won’t mind. I’m sure they’ll both be happy about the wedding.” He stepped away from her. “Do you want to tell them together?”

She made herself focus on him instead of the anxiety building in her chest. Everything was moving so fast. “All right.”

“I can pick you up tomorrow morning.” He took in a deep breath. “I better get back to work. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

She could feel beads of sweat forming on her forehead. Please don’t let him notice. “Tomorrow, right.”

He went to the door, opened it, then turned to her. “I love you.”

“I . . . love you too.”

As soon as the door closed she collapsed against the table, her legs trembling. She needed to sit down, but she couldn’t move. A few moments later Abigail burst through the back door. Joanna jumped and nearly fell, managing to hang on to the table as she fought to steady herself.

“I see Andrew was here.” Abigail walked over to her, a wide grin on her face. “I guess you two talked.”

“Ya.” She was still looking down at the table, fighting for strength.

“He looked happy.” Abigail chuckled. “Very happy. Any particular reason why?”

“We’re getting married,” Joanna mumbled, finally looking at her sister.

“Married?” Abigail’s eyes widened.

“Ya.”

“When?”

“Two weeks.”

Abigail’s mouth dropped open. “What?”

“He said he wanted to get married right away.” The words were coming easier now, and her heartbeat started to slow.

“Joanna, are you sure?”

She hung on to the edge of the table. Maybe getting married wasn’t a bad thing after all. Perhaps after they were married everything would be right again. She and Andrew would be together forever. For better or for worse. Her chest started hurting again.

Abigail pulled out one of the kitchen chairs. “Sit down.”

Joanna sank onto the seat. With the back of her hand she wiped her damp forehead.

Her sister moved a chair closer to Joanna and sat. “Let’s think about this for a minute. This morning you didn’t want to see him. Now all of a sudden you’re getting married in two weeks?”

Joanna nodded.

Abigail leaned back, shaking her head. “I don’t get it.”

“Andrew doesn’t want to wait.”

“Obviously. But what about you? Are you ready for this?” She peered into Joanna’s eyes. “What do you want?”

Andrew. She had always wanted Andrew. But now she realized something else. I don’t want to be alone. Joanna touched the smattering of flour that had spilled on the table. When she saw her finger shaking, she pulled back. “I want what he wants,” she said, unable to admit her fear.

“You’re dodging the question.”

She tightened her fingers into fists under the table. “We’re getting married. I’m sorry if you’re upset about that.”

“I’m not upset.” Abigail’s voice was calm and steady, the way she had been throughout Joanna’s stay at the rehabilitation center. “I’m happy for you if this is what you truly want and if you’re not feeling pressured.”

Pressure pressed down on her from all sides, but she couldn’t acknowledge that out loud. She could only try to manage the strain. She relaxed her tense shoulders, attempting to create a confidence she didn’t feel. “Marrying Andrew is what I want.”

“Then congratulations!” She gave Joanna a quick hug, then pulled away. A rueful grin formed on her lips. “Seems that when it comes to marriage, both mei schwesters don’t waste any time. Joel better hurry and catch up.” Her smile disappeared. “I haven’t seen him since we got back. I know he’s been busy working at Barton Plastics, and then he’s been helping his older bruder finish building his new haus. I thought maybe he would stop by the store today, but so far he hasn’t.”

“I’m sure he’ll visit soon.” Joanna patted Abigail’s hand, glad for the change of subject. “He cares about you, Abigail.” Before the accident she had seen the two of them together, mostly after church services and during singings. They made a striking couple. He was tall, blond, and fair, while Abigail was petite and had dark hair and an olive complexion.

“I think he does.” Uncertainty crept into her expression, then she shook her head, her brown eyes regaining their prior sparkle. “Never mind about me and Joel. We were talking about you. We have a wedding to plan, a dress to make, people to invite, food to prepare . . .”

As Abigail continued to tick off what seemed to be a never-ending list of things to do for the nuptials, Joanna silently prayed. I’ve finally gotten mei heart’s desire, God. But I never expected it to happen like this.

“You’re going to have a beautiful wedding,” Abigail said. “These next two weeks are going to fly by. Before you know it, you’ll be Mrs. Andrew Beiler.”

Joanna turned and embraced her sister, trying not to cling to her as if she were a life raft. Lord, what have I done?

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Irene Beiler hung up the last pair of Andrew’s pants on the line. Her brother went through clothes at twice the rate she and Mamm did, but that was to be expected because of his job. Once his pants were hung, she stepped back and let the fall breeze fan her face. The clothes fluttered like colorful flags on the line. Her dresses, her mother’s dresses, and her brother’s shirts and pants would be dry in a short time if the cool dry air continued throughout the day.

She turned away from the clothesline, but instead of picking up the plastic basket, she turned it over and sat down, using the basket as a stool. It was too nice to go inside and start lunch. She wanted to spend a few moments in the fresh air, alone with her thoughts and the twittering sounds of the birds that were taking turns at the three feeders she’d filled up yesterday. She loved to watch the different species—chickadees, swallows, finches, and her favorite, brown creepers. Those little birds were adorable.

After a few moments she stood, picked up the laundry basket, and began to head inside. As she turned she saw a man walking up the driveway. She frowned. She wasn’t expecting anyone. As he neared her jaw dropped. “Asa?”

Her brother’s childhood friend waved as he strode toward her. He smiled, stopping in front of her and shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants.

Irene kept gaping. She hadn’t seen Asa for five years, since he left Birch Creek for a job opportunity in Indiana. His family had followed him soon after. Asa had been sixteen, and even then he had been the most gorgeous boy she’d ever seen. She wasn’t the only one who thought so—every one of her friends had a crush on him at one time or another. But he wasn’t a boy anymore. He was a man. A stunningly beautiful one, with black wavy hair, thick eyebrows, and pale gray eyes surrounded by so many dark, long eyelashes it wasn’t fair. Still, she’d never felt an attraction to him and had always considered him part of their family, at least until he had moved away. At twenty, he was two years younger than she was, and she’d always seen him as her little brother. There was nothing little about him now.

“Hey, Irene,” Asa said, his voice deeper than she remembered, his gaze flickering off to the side. That part of him hadn’t changed. He’d always tended to be quiet and a little shy. Now he also seemed unsure around her. Odd, considering how close they’d been growing up.

She had to break this strange ice between them. Grinning, she went to him. “Is that any way to greet me?” she asked, throwing her arms around him and squeezing tight. He hugged her back, harder than she’d expected. His embrace was almost desperate. When she pulled away, the curve of his smile was a little bigger, reminding her of the kid she used to know.

Gut to see you too,” he said.

Irene watched as his gaze surveyed the house and yard. A couple of chickens were near the front flower bed, pecking at the ground. “Not much has changed around here I see.”

She nodded but didn’t say anything. While outwardly their community seemed to remain the same, everything had changed. Asa would learn soon enough what had happened to Bishop Troyer and Solomon. She bit her bottom lip at the thought of Sol Troyer. She had been interested in him for a while. It was hard not to be, with his gorgeous green eyes and mischievous smile. But Sol was trouble—and she had vowed to stay away from him.

She pushed the Troyers from her mind. “What are you doing here? Are you back for a visit?”

Nee. I’m back for gut.”

Irene pushed one of the strings from her kapp over her shoulder. “Andrew will be glad to hear that. What about the rest of yer familye? Have they returned too?”

“They’re staying in Indiana.”

She waited for him to give more of an explanation. When he didn’t she decided not to pry, despite her curiosity. Andrew would talk to him soon, and she’d rather badger her brother for information than quiz Asa. He was more at ease than he’d been a few minutes ago, but he still wasn’t the confident, easygoing teenager she remembered.

“Is Andrew here?” Asa asked.

Nee. He’s out working.”

“Still a farrier?”

Ya, and he probably will be for the rest of his life.”

Asa nodded. “I remember how much he liked the job when he was apprenticing. Can you let him know I’m in town? I’m staying at mei parents’ old haus.”

She looked at him askance. “I thought they sold the place.”

“They did.” He didn’t add more details.

Irene had never thought of Asa as mysterious, but he was doing a good job of being intriguing. Again, she kept her questions to herself. “You’re welcome to stay for lunch. I was just getting ready to make some roast beef sandwiches.”

“That sounds gut, but I can’t stay. I’ve got a lot of work to do at home.” He removed his hands from his pockets and took a few steps back. “Tell Andrew if he’s got time he’s welcome to stop by. I’ll be around.”

“I will. Asa?”

He paused and looked at her.

“Welcome back.”

Flashing her a grin that would easily have all the single women in Birch Creek swooning, he nodded before walking away.

Irene watched him leave. Why couldn’t she be attracted to someone like Asa? She was starting to feel the pressure to find someone, especially since most of her friends were either married, engaged, or in a relationship. The pickings in Birch Creek were slim since the young women outnumbered the young men. Very few males were unattached in their small district.

Again, Sol unceremoniously popped into her mind. Before he’d admitted to the entire congregation that he’d been a thief and a drunkard, she thought there might be a chance for something between them. Even now she could feel a slight pull of attraction whenever she thought of him. Eventually that would go away. At least she hoped it would. She wouldn’t get involved with a man of questionable integrity. Her father had already abandoned her. She wouldn’t allow herself to be hurt that deeply again.

She picked up the laundry basket and headed back to the house, determined to put Sol out of her mind.

Easier said than done.