A Hand to Hold (23 page)

Zach nodded. “I know exactly what you mean.”

Ruth thought she detected a small smile on Zach’s face, but she wasn’t sure. If anyone understood about the consequences of reckless driving, he did.

“Okay,” he continued. “Leave the buggy with us and you can pick it back up tomorrow. It should be done by then.”

The man nodded. “Sounds fine by me.” When Zach started to walk away, the man added, “Aren’t you gonna write me a ticket or something?”

Zach froze. “Oh. Um, yeah.”

Ruth frowned at the change in Zach’s demeanor. So far he’d handled the customer with confidence. Now it was like he didn’t know what to do. Then he saw her. Their eyes met, and his expression turned to confusion.

He looked away from Ruth and back to the customer. “Need to find the tickets first.” He fumbled around underneath the counter and pulled out a pad of paper. As he reached for a pen in the cup on the counter, he knocked it over, spilling the contents.

“Sorry.” He scrambled to pick up the pens and shove them back in the cup. One fell out, but he let it go. He looked down at the paper, squinting. “Um, okay,” he said. “So you want blinkers, then.”

The man crossed his arms over his chest. “
Ya
. We just covered that.”

Zach put the pen to paper hesitantly, then scribbled something on the sheet. Ruth tried to peer around the man’s shoulder to see what he’d written. When she caught a glimpse, she couldn’t make out anything but the price.

“I need you to sign here.” He turned the paper over to the man.

The man picked it up and looked at it. “I can’t make this out.”

“It says that you agree to pay for the blinker upon pickup.”

“It does?” He looked at it again, then put the paper down. He signed it and handed it back to Zach, leaning forward as he did. “You might want to work on your penmanship. I couldn’t make heads or tails over what you just wrote.”

Once the man left the shop, Ruth stepped forward. Zach didn’t look directly at her. Instead he took the paper and stuffed it underneath the counter. “Surprised to see you here.” He kept his gaze averted.

He sounded agitated, which was unusual. “Is everything okay?”

“It’s fine.” Now his tone turned curt. “Did you need something?” He finally looked at her, his eyes hard. Then he started fidgeting with the pencils and pens in the cup.

“I came to talk to David. I’m still having trouble with Jacob in my classroom.”

“He’s not here. I’m all by myself today. Anything else? Because I have a lot of work to do.”

“Have you had a chance to talk to Jacob?”

His jaw clenched. “I’ve been busy.”

His agitation reminded her of when they were in school together, memories of the teacher telling him to settle down, only to see him become more restless. She never understood why he wouldn’t comply with the teacher’s request. Jacob often reacted the same way to her. “Zach, are you sure everything is—”

“It’s fine, all right? Now stop bugging me so I can get back to work.”

She stepped back, trying not to be hurt by his tone, but failing. He’d never talked to her like that before. “All right. I’ll leave.”

Once outside, she took a deep breath, swallowing the lump that formed in her throat. Why was she so upset? So what if he yelled at her. It wasn’t like she’d done anything wrong. Whatever he was mad about had nothing to do with her. Or did it? Forgetting about Jacob, she climbed in her buggy, trying to figure out if she had said or done anything to make Zach angry. Then again, why should she even care? They were barely friends. She blinked, aware of the growing dampness in her eyes. It shouldn’t matter this much. But it did.

“Ruth?”

She wiped her eyes and turned to Zach. He was standing on the opposite side of the buggy, his expression contrite. “What?” She tried to keep the bite out of her voice, but it came out anyway.

He hung his head for a moment, then looked at her again. “I shouldn’t have talked to you that way. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” And it was, sort of. His apology helped.

“
Nee
, it’s not.” He glanced around the driveway, then back at her. “Can I sit with you for a minute?”

His request surprised her. “Sure.”

Zach climbed in but didn’t sit close to her. He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “I did try to talk to Jacob earlier this week. The conversation was going great, as long as we stuck to fishing and baseball. But as soon as I brought up school, he clammed up.”

Ruth knew exactly what he meant. She’d seen the same thing happen with Jacob in her classroom.

“So I’ll try again. And again. As long as it takes.” He tilted his head toward her. “I’m starting to understand what my father went through with me.”

“What helped you?”

“Nix.”
He sat up and sighed. “It didn’t matter what he said. How he punished me, or threatened to punish me. I still screwed up everything.”

“You’re not screwing up now.”

He let out a bitter laugh. “Give me some time. It will happen.”

She didn’t know what to say. He’d been agitated before, but now he seemed almost despondent.

“I’ve got to get back to work. Like I said, David’s gone, but his
frau’s
inside. You can talk to her about Jacob if you want.”

“I will.” She pulled her glasses out of her purse and slipped them on. She noticed Zach staring at her. “What?”

He looked away.
“Nix.”

She frowned, ready to press him again, but decided to drop it. He started to leave but she stopped him. “I’ve been reading a book I got from the library. It’s in my bag under your feet. It’s called
Quirky Kids
. I’d like to show it to Jacob’s
mudder
. There are a few ideas the authors bring up that I want to discuss with her. Can you hand it to me?”

He looked at her for a moment, his eyes widening.

His hesitation puzzled her. He acted like she’d asked him to walk a tightrope without a net. “Zach?”

He licked his lips and picked up the satchel, which held several books. “What did you say the title was?”

“
Quirky Kids
.” She gave him the authors’ names too.

He shuffled through the bag. Finally he pulled out a book and handed it to her, then scrambled out of the buggy.

She looked at the cover. It was an English book. The title wasn’t anything close to what she had told him. She started to point out that he gave her the wrong book, but he had already headed to the shop. Then she remembered how the customer couldn’t read his handwriting. Her mind traveled even farther, back to school. The way Zach usually cracked a joke instead of giving the correct answer. How he used to get in trouble for not turning in homework. At the time she’d thought him lazy. A troublemaker who didn’t take his education seriously. Now she realized the real reason behind his behavior.

He couldn’t read.

Chapter 15

R
uth walked into the shop and saw Zach behind the counter. She took a deep breath and slowly approached him. “Why didn’t you tell me you couldn’t read?” He flinched but didn’t say anything. “I don’t know how you made it out of school without learning to read. How are you making it through life?”

He didn’t look at her. “I’ve been getting along just fine.” His voice was brittle, like clumps of charred wood after a fire.

“But how do you do your job?”

“I don’t have to read to fix buggies.”

“What about writing tickets? You have to read to do that.”

“Look, I can read some, okay?” He looked down at the floor and scuffed his shoe against the black splotches of paint on the concrete. “I just have trouble with it. Always have.”

“Maybe if you’d paid more attention in school—”

“Don’t.” He held up his hand, then balled it into a fist and let his arm drop to his side. “Don’t judge me.” He looked down at her. “Perfect Ruth. Doesn’t have a single flaw but always eager to point out everyone else’s.”

Ruth couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “That’s not true.”

“Isn’t it?” Zach’s hot glare made her take a step back. “You’ve always had a low opinion of me. Especially after I crashed into the
schulhaus
.”

Shame coursed through her, because she couldn’t deny it was true. She was guilty of pointing out the splinters in other people’s eyes, especially his, before pulling out the plank in her own. But she had changed, at least she thought she had. “I’m not perfect, Zach. You know that better than anyone. And I don’t have a poor opinion of you . . . not anymore.”

“I know. Now you just feel sorry for me.”

She shook her head, walking toward him until there were only a few inches between them. “Listen to me, Zach. I don’t feel sorry for you. I feel—” She stopped herself, suddenly afraid. She’d come so close to admitting her true feelings for him, something she’d tried to keep tucked deep inside.

But he wasn’t making it easy for her. He leaned down close. “What do you feel, Ruth?” His words were low, his voice deeper than she’d ever heard it.

“I feel . . .” She still had on her glasses, and being this close to Zach, she could see every freckle on his cheeks, the way his emerald eyes darkened to a deep green. Her breath caught as she focused on his mouth, the image of kissing him flooding her mind.

At the last second, she reined herself in and backed away. How could she be thinking about kissing at a time like this? He had admitted something that pained him deeply, and all she could focus on was her desires. She turned away from him.

He sighed and leaned against the counter. “Leave me alone, Ruth.”

She whirled around and looked at him. Fatigue etched his features. “Zach, I can help you. I can teach you—”

“I said leave me alone.” His eyes held hers. They were no longer soft but like hard chips of green ice. “I mean it.”

At a loss to say anything else, she turned around and rushed back to the buggy. When she got inside, she covered her face with her hands. Tears spilled over, and there was nothing she could do to stop them.

Zach gripped the side of the counter until his knuckles cramped. He’d heard Ruth’s buggy drive away, but his body was still trembling, and he struggled to calm himself. Sending Ruth away was one of the hardest things he’d ever done. But he’d had to. There was no hope for their friendship, which was questionable anyway. And any outside chance he had of developing their relationship into something else had fizzled, now that she knew the truth.

He shut his eyes. He’d almost kissed her, and when he looked into her eyes, he thought she wanted him to. Then she backed away, and he knew he’d made a mistake. She didn’t want him. And her offer to help him? To teach him? He didn’t want to be one of her pet projects.

He raked his hands through his hair. In school he’d lived in fear of being found out. First graders read better than he did. And it wasn’t like he didn’t try. But what he saw on the page didn’t match what the teachers told him. Letters seemed backward. Mixed-up. If he took the time to puzzle the words out, sometimes he could read a little. But the effort wasn’t worth it, not when everyone else was smarter than him.

After he’d finished school, he didn’t worry about it as much. He just avoided anything that required reading and writing. Obviously, he didn’t need to read to paint a buggy—or repair a school and replace a window, he thought bitterly. He never had to fill out a job application anyway. The only thing he had to do was sign his name. Until today, when he had to fill out the ticket. He’d never been so humiliated.

Opening his eyes, he released his grip and walked to the partially completed buggy he’d been working on before Ruth came. He started to pick up the spray gun but kicked at a buggy wheel instead.

“My
daed’s
not gonna like that.”

Zach jumped at the sound of Jacob’s voice. His gaze narrowed. “Where did you come from?”

“Out back. When
Fraulein
Byler showed up, I hid behind the shop.” He looked dead-on at Zach. “I thought she was here for me. But she was here for you.”

“
Nee
, she wasn’t. She came to talk to your
daed
. About you and the problems you’ve been giving her in school.”

Jacob shrugged, his expression empty. “Whatever.”

Zach stormed toward the boy. “You’re a fool, you know that? You’ve got a teacher willing to do anything to help you. You’ve got parents who love you and want you to succeed. And what do you do? Treat them like garbage and act like a spoiled brat.”

The boy’s hooded lids flew open wide. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“You don’t think so?” Zach leaned in close, years of frustration and anger pulsing through him. “I used to be just like you.”

Jacob’s nostrils flared. “At least I can read.”

Zach froze. He took a step back. “What did you hear?”

“Enough to know you can’t read. And that it doesn’t matter if you can. You made it through school just fine.”

“I
barely
made it through school. And it wasn’t ‘just fine.’”

“I’m almost fourteen. I have one more year to
geh
, then I can get a job. Who cares what happens in school anyway?”

“A lot of people. People that matter to you. Like your parents.”