A Hand to Hold (20 page)

Deborah held a small piece of white meat to Will’s lips. He turned and shook his head, pressing his little lips together. All through the meal, she’d tried to get him to eat the chicken, but he’d refused. She’d have to be satisfied with the mashed potatoes and cooked carrots he’d devoured earlier. She cleaned him up as Naomi finished clearing the table. Deborah gave him the toy horse to play with while she took a plate from the cupboard. She selected a fried chicken leg and put it on the plate, then added a large scoop of potato salad.

“What are you doing?” Naomi was filling the kitchen sink with soapy water. When the bubbles rose to the edge, she turned the faucet off with a hard twist.

“Fixing a plate for Stephen.” She had thought he would join them for supper, but he hadn’t. She knew he had to be hungry, so she thought she’d take a bit of dinner out to him after Will went to bed, just in case he wanted a snack.

“I hope he doesn’t expect us to feed him every time he comes here.”

“I think it’s obvious he doesn’t, since he didn’t eat with us tonight.”

“Then why bother giving him food?”

A sarcastic remark perched on the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed it. Naomi was touchy enough as it was. All through dinner her sister had been sullen. As usual, her father pretended to be oblivious to the tension, keeping his head down as he ate quickly, then went straight back outside. She didn’t blame him.

“I don’t see why he’s even here.” Naomi grabbed the three plates from the table and took them to the garbage can, where she scraped off the extra food. “We don’t need his help.”

Deborah tore off a piece of aluminum foil and covered the plate. “
Daed
needs his help. Haven’t you noticed how tired he is?”

“Of course he’s tired. It’s the end of the day and he works hard. Unlike other people I know.”

Deborah was growing weary of her sister’s digs. “I’ve offered to help you, but you won’t let me. You can’t do that one minute and the next minute complain you’ve got too much work to do.”

Naomi paused, holding one plate suspended over the garbage can. Then she finished pushing off the food and took the plates to the sink, slipping them into the dishwater. She didn’t say anything else, but her silence told Deborah everything she needed to know.

But she could play the ignoring game just as well as her sister. Deborah pulled Will out of his high chair, another gift from Aunt Sadie, and went into the living room. They sat in the rocking chair. Will yawned as Deborah rocked back and forth, and before long he was asleep, the horse pressed against his tiny chest.

Once she took him upstairs to bed, she came back down and went into the kitchen. As she expected, it was spotless, and Naomi was nowhere in sight, which was fine by Deborah. She wasn’t in the mood to talk to her anyway.

Outside the kitchen window, she could see the side of the barn. Stephen came out pushing a wheelbarrow piled high with manure. He dumped it in a large pile a few feet from the barn, then went back in. Deborah walked outside to tell him about the plate she had fixed. She had just reached the barn when he came out with another load of smelly manure.

“Hey,” he said, wiping his forehead with the back of his grimy hand. “If you’re looking for your
daed
, he’s out in the pasture. One of the cows decided she didn’t want to come in, so he’s trying to coax her back.”

“There’s always one stubborn one.” She looked at him. “When you’re finished, I have some lemonade and a plate of food left from supper.”

She glanced at the huge pile of manure he’d brought out of the barn. “Wow. You’ve done all that tonight?”

“
Ya
. Thought I’d clean out the horse’s stall real quick before I leave.”

“I’m impressed. I’ve helped
Daed
clean out the barn a time or two and it would have taken us twice as long to get that much done.” At his surprised look she added, “It was just us
maed
here and he sometimes needed the help.”

“It’s not a fun job, for sure.”

“I don’t mind it.” She looked around the property. “I missed this place while I was gone.”

“It’s a
gut
farm.”

“That needs a lot of work.”

He put his hands on his hips and gazed in the direction of the pasture. “I’m finding I really enjoy the work. Being cooped up in the shop can get to me sometimes.” He looked back at her. “Where’s Will?”

“He’s sleeping. I should
geh
check on him.”

“All right.” He nodded at her, then bent down and grasped the handles of the wheelbarrow. “I think I’ll take you up on the food, if that’s all right. I’m just about done here.”

Deborah smiled. “I’ll have it ready for you.”

After she went back inside and quickly checked on Will, she poured a glass of lemonade for Stephen and put it and the plate of food on the table. At the same time she heard a knock on the door. She went to open it, seeing Stephen through the screen door.

“Where should I leave my boots?” he asked.

“Right outside the door will be fine.”

She watched as he slipped off his muddy boots, revealing the white socks he wore underneath. He put them a few feet from the front door and walked inside. Deborah led him to the kitchen. “You can wash your hands here.”

“Danki.”
He flipped on the faucet.

She stood behind him as he washed his hands. He was bent slightly over the sink, the countertop edge hitting below his waist. His huge presence filled the small kitchen. She glanced down at his feet, then looked at hers in comparison. His were almost twice as long as hers. Her head was still down when he turned away from the sink, so she didn’t see him coming until he bumped into her, knocking her backward. He grabbed her shoulders and steadied her.

“Sorry about that.” He looked sheepish.

“
Nee
, it was my fault. I stood too close.” She glanced at his hand, still on her shoulder, his palm almost completely covering it. The warmth of his touch seeped through the thin material of her dress, causing her heart to skip a beat. Warning alarms sounded in her head. She stepped out of his grasp, disturbed that his innocent touch had affected her so much.

His gaze met hers, then a puzzled look crossed his face. “Sure you’re okay? I didn’t step on your foot or something?”

She shook her head and walked to the table. She pulled off the foil from the plate and smiled. “I’m fine.”

“
Gut
. I can be clumsy sometimes.” He pulled out a chair and sat down. He bowed his head for a minute, then picked up the fork. “Looks
appeditlich
.”

“Naomi’s an excellent cook.”

“Where is your
schwester
?” He scooped up a large forkful of potato salad and put it in his mouth.

“Upstairs.” Since Deborah’s arrival, Naomi had gone to her room after supper each night, not reappearing until early morning. She had no idea what her sister was doing cooped up in her room. Maybe working on a quilt or sewing project. But she could do that downstairs in the front parlor, like their mother used to do. It was obvious to Deborah that Naomi wanted to avoid her.

Stephen didn’t pry, and she was glad for that. He took another bite of salad and followed it with a gulp of lemonade. Then he held out his hand toward the chair next to him. “Care to join me?” He quickly added, “Unless you’re busy.”

She wasn’t busy, but she wasn’t sure she should join him either. She wanted to, and not just because of that flash of attraction she’d felt moments ago. She realized how lonely she felt, especially since her aunt left. Looking at Stephen now, she didn’t feel anything, and that calmed her. That one second of intense emotion must have been a fluke. And with Naomi refusing to speak to her and her father consumed by the farm, she had little company other than Will. It would be nice to sit down and have a conversation with an adult, and Stephen was easy to be around. Smiling again, she pulled the chair out from the table. “Sure.”

He picked up the chicken leg and took a bite. “You’re right,” he said, after he finished chewing. “She is a
gut
cook.” He picked up his glass and drained the lemonade in nearly one gulp.

Deborah moved to stand, glad he was enjoying the meal. “Do you want some more? We have plenty.”

“
Nee
, I’m fine. I have to get back home soon.” He polished off the potato salad. “Let your
daed
know I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Are you sure? He said you’d be working only a couple days a week.”

“That’s what we agreed to, but I think he needs me more than that.” Stephen finished off the chicken and wiped his mouth and hands with the napkin.

“
Ya
, but he won’t admit it. And I don’t think he’ll agree to you coming out here every day for free.”

“Then you’ll just have to pay me in lemonade.” He winked.

Another jolt of attraction went through her. He was so different from other men she knew. There was a gentleness about him that contrasted with his large size. And now that they were sitting at eye level with each other, he was even more handsome.

She halted the direction of her thoughts. She’d fallen for a handsome man before. Chase had not only been good-looking, but charming and a smooth talker. He said what she wanted to hear, and she’d fallen for him. But she wouldn’t make that mistake again. She had to keep her thoughts pure, especially since Stephen would be here often. It would be a good idea to keep her distance from him in the future.

Chapter 13

W
hen Zach arrived at work the next morning, he still wasn’t sure what he was going to say to
Herr
Kline. Or Jacob, when he had a chance to talk to him. Just because he understood the boy didn’t mean he knew what to say. But he didn’t want to let Ruth down. After their talk yesterday, if she had asked him to walk on broken glass barefoot for two miles, he would have done it. He’d come to the realization that—as Rick would say—he had it bad for her. For the past couple of weeks, he’d teetered on the edge between attraction and irritation. But seeing the real Ruth, catching a glimpse of the fire in her eyes as she talked about helping Jacob, had sent him over that edge.

But he needed to keep his feelings hidden. He mentioned friendship yesterday, and to her, that’s what it was and would always be. Ruth Byler was destined to be with someone like her. Smart, clever, responsible. He was none of the above, just a part-time worker in a buggy shop whose father still refused to speak more than four syllables to him at the supper table. Ruth could have her pick of men in the community. The thought made his gut twist with envy. But his feelings didn’t matter here. He would be satisfied with friendship. He’d have to be.

He walked into the buggy shop. As usual,
Herr
Kline had already started work, nailing pieces of a buggy frame together with a pneumatic nail gun. A long blue tube snaked from the gun and attached to a large, black air compressor tank. As Zach approached, he looked up and nodded.
“Guten morgen.”

“
Guten morgen
,
Herr
Kline.”

“I think you’ve worked here long enough to call me David.”

Zach nodded but stayed behind the counter, still unsure what to say. How could he tell his boss that his child had run away from school?

“Something wrong?” David straightened, letting the hand holding the nail gun dangle at his side.

Zach let out a deep breath. “Something happened at the school yesterday.”

David shook his head, but he didn’t look surprised. “Let me guess. Jacob got in trouble.”

“You could say that.” When Zach explained about Jacob running off, David’s face grew red. But he didn’t say anything, just set down the nail gun, then rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with that
bu
.”

Now those were familiar words. Zach moved from behind the counter and walked over to him. “You have any idea why he would have done that?”

“
Nee
. I didn’t even know he left. He came home from school at the usual time. I thought he’d been there all day.” He looked at Zach. “How did you know about it?”

“
Mei freind
is his teacher. She told me about it last night.” There, it wasn’t so bad calling Ruth his friend. Maybe someday he’d get used to it. Like in ten years or so.

“Ever since we moved here, he’s been taking off. He’ll be gone all day, then sneak back in the house. Problem is, I can’t be with him all the time. I have my business to run, and my
frau
. . . well, she’s got a soft spot for him. She thinks if we love him more, he’ll start behavin’. I love my
sohn
, but I don’t know how to talk to him. Even when I do, he won’t listen.” David looked at Zach. “He’s almost fourteen years old. How long are we gonna have to wait for him to straighten himself out?” Before Zach could answer, he added, “As soon as Jacob’s home, I’ll take him right over to the school to apologize. Maybe I should do that right now. I can check and see if he’s even there.”

Zach held out his hand to stop him. “I don’t think that’s a
gut
idea.”

David’s gaze narrowed. It was the first time Zach had ever seen the mild man agitated. “Why not?”

“Because he’ll be embarrassed, and that won’t help the situation.”

“Embarrassed?” David stomped his foot. “Do you think I give one whit whether that
bu
is embarrassed? He’s humiliated me enough times.”

Zach experienced a strange sense of déjà vu. David Kline couldn’t be more different from Zach’s father in physical appearance and temperament, but at that moment Zach could hear his father saying those exact words. “I know,” he said. And he did. More than David would ever realize.

His boss’s tone mellowed. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to take it out on you. I know you mean well. You’re a
gut mann
. You don’t need to get involved in this.”

David’s words touched him deeply. “I think I can help, though. I understand Jacob.”

“You do?”

“
Ya
. I understand him because . . . I am him. Or at least, I was.”