Faithful to Laura (9 page)

“I’m sorry.” She glanced up. She hadn’t been this close to him before, hadn’t noticed he was almost a head taller than she was. Her gaze flicked away. “You startled me.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to.” Sawyer took a step backward.

“Ready to head home?”

“I was just fixing to go.” She tried to move past him, but he blocked the doorway.

“I’ll go with you to the truck.”

She held up her hand. “I can walk.”

“It’s getting dark outside. Not to mention cold.”

“I’ve got a coat. And a flashlight.”

Sawyer stayed in place. “It’s no problem to take you home.”

“I’ve been sitting in this chair all day. I need the exercise.”

Sawyer grinned. “Sounds like an excuse to me.”

“Call it what you want.” She looked at him straight on.

“Can you let me by?”

“You’d rather walk half an hour in the dark and cold than for me to give you a ride?”

He sounded petulant. Had he never been turned down before? Maybe his nice-boy act was just that, an act. Like Mark’s had been. She nodded, not letting her gaze drift from his.

He stepped to one side. “By all means. Walk home.”

She recognized that tone. Irritation? Maybe some hurt pride? She took another look at him before she walked away.

Wait, that wasn’t it. She knew when a man was irritated. She’d experienced enough of that when Mark didn’t get what he wanted. Sawyer wasn’t irritated. He didn’t even seem upset.

He seemed disappointed.

It didn’t make sense. Why should he care if she walked home or not?

Outside, darkness was falling, and the wind pierced through her thin coat. The air was cold, much colder than it had been that morning. Maybe near freezing Laura flicked on her flashlight and looked up and down the dark road. Had Sawyer turned right or left into the Bylers’ driveway? Why hadn’t she paid more attention?

She rubbed her forehead with the tips of her cold fingers and turned right, hoping she’d made the right choice.

Sawyer shook his head. He noticed her rubbing her forehead again. She seemed to do that a lot. Maybe it was her way of getting her brain in gear. It didn’t work; she took the wrong turn out of the driveway.

He strode to his truck and opened the door. Let her get down the road a little ways. Maybe she’d figure out she’d turned wrong. Next time when he offered her a ride, she’d take it.

He felt a twinge of guilt. He should have given her directions. Then again, she hadn’t asked for any. She hadn’t asked him for anything, except this job.

He turned on the ignition and waited for the truck to warm up. It was a cold night. Clear sky, but no moon. He had never paid much attention to moonlight until he’d run away. Then it was the only light he had at night, and he counted on it. Without it, he was in complete darkness.

Except for that one time, when out of desperation he stole Mary Beth’s flashlight. Guilt had plagued him right after, and he’d returned it.

He shook his head, forcing the memories away. Thinking about that time brought his birth parents alive in his mind. And despite years of being content with the Bylers, the pain would sometimes return, sharp as a saw blade.

He shifted the truck into reverse and backed out of the driveway. He could see Laura’s flashlight bobbing along as she continued to walk the wrong way home. He rolled down the passenger window and slowed, letting the truck propel itself along.

“Sure you don’t want a ride?” he asked.

Her body jerked. She turned to him. He could barely see her face in the darkness. “Positive.”

No mistaking her tone. Curt. Decisive. Yet not harsh enough to stop him. “You know you’re going the wrong way,
ya
?”

She took a step. Stopped. He thought he heard her sigh. She spun around and headed in the opposite direction.

He quickly pulled the truck over and put it in park. He left it running as he jumped out and hurried to her. “You don’t know your way home.”

“I reckon I’ll figure it out.”

“Figure it out in the daylight. Not now.” He stepped in front of her, losing patience with the silly game she insisted on playing. “Get into the truck.”

She froze at his words. Raised her flashlight until the light hit his eyes.
“Nee.”

The force of that one word took him aback, almost more than the piercing flash of light. Spots danced before his eyes, and he blinked. By the time his eyes adjusted, she had walked away.

Fine. If she wanted to spend the night wandering around Middlefield, that was her business. He followed her, keeping his distance.

“Laura, this is stupid.”

“I agree,” she called out, not turning around. “You followin’ me is stupid.’Specially since your truck is still runnin’.”

Despite his exasperation, Sawyer smiled in the darkness at the sound of her soft Southern accent. “Why are you being so stubborn?”

“Why won’t you leave me alone?”

Answering a question with a question. He couldn’t stand that. “You’re fired.”

That stopped her. She whirled around and flashed the light at him. This time he was ready. He put his hand up and shielded his eyes.

“What did you say?”

“You’re fired?” He had her attention, but caught it in an underhanded way. He had no intention of firing her. He didn’t think he even had the authority.

“You’re firin’ me because I won’t ride home with you?” She stomped toward him. “That’s coercion.”

Nice vocabulary
. His Aunt Ruth would be impressed. A former schoolteacher, she was always throwing around big words that sometimes made her husband, Zach, scratch his head. But Sawyer knew exactly what Laura meant. And she was right.

“Okay, I’m sorry. You’re not fired. “ “I don’t appreciate being manipulated.”

“I understand.” He took a step toward her. “How about if I ask nicely?”

The flashlight lowered a few inches.

“Please let me take you home. I promise I’ll pick you up in the morning and show you the way to the shop—in the daylight.” He paused. “Then if you don’t want to ride with me again, you don’t have to.”

After a moment she spoke. “All right.”

He waited for her to reach him. Then they both walked back to the truck. She got in. As he slid into his seat, he could sense her body shaking. She turned off the flashlight as he shut the door.

“Here.” He turned a knob on the dashboard. Hot air blew through the vents. “Better?”

“Ya. Danki.”

“You’re welcome.”

He eased the truck onto the road. “Sorry about what happened back there.”

Silence. “It’s okay. I—” She sighed. “I should have taken you up on the offer in the first place. I would have gotten lost.”

Sawyer stopped himself from nodding. No need to throw salt on a bit of wounded pride. He’d learned that the Amish try to ignore pride. Humility was stressed almost above all else.

But everyone had it, no matter how hard they tried to keep it in check.

He suddenly thought about the conversation with Lukas earlier that day. “How long are you planning to stay in Middlefield?”

She didn’t respond right away. “I’m not sure.”

“Can you give me an estimate?”

“Why do you need to know?”

The bite was back in her voice. Touchy. He reminded himself about the fire. The wounds she’d sustained. Considering that, she was doing very well. He’d have to draw on his patience.

Or learn to grow some.

“Lukas was asking. We’ve had a revolving door when it comes to that job. He wants someone who will be around for a while.”

“I will.” A pause. “You can count on that.”

A few moments later he pulled into her driveway. “I’ll be here in the morning.”

She opened the door. The interior light of the truck switched on. In the dim light her scars were still noticeable. Yet they didn’t detract from her delicate features.

“I’ll be ready.”

He watched until she went inside, the headlights of his truck illuminating her in the darkness. Petite. Pretty. That quivery feeling in his belly appeared again. No wonder Mark King had pursued her. Who wouldn’t?

But obviously the jerk had underestimated Laura Stutzman.

Beneath that slight exterior lay an unyielding strength. One that King couldn’t break. Even though it was obvious he had tried, and not just by harming her physically.

Sawyer gritted his teeth as he drove away. Laura didn’t deserve what had happened to her. No one did. But for some reason the accident and her injuries dug deep at Sawyer.

It was a good thing Mark King had left town. Sawyer didn’t know what he’d do if they ever crossed paths.

Whatever it might be, his family and the Amish community wouldn’t approve. Of that he was absolutely sure.

C
HAPTER
8

Emma pulled two loaves of steaming meatloaf out of the oven. They nearly fell out of her unsteady hands. “Great,” she muttered. The last thing she needed was to ruin the main part of tonight’s supper.

“Relax,
lieb
.” Leona shuffled up behind her. “It’s just the Ottos coming for supper.”

Exactly
. Her grandmother didn’t know how important—and nerve wracking—tonight was. Not only did she want the food to be perfect, she wanted to break the ice that had formed around the families’ relationship. Carol remained distant, and Norman almost never came over anymore to check on her and Leona, even though it was his duty as a deacon. Maybe the problem wasn’t just between Carol and Norman. Emma had yet to voice those suspicions to Adam, however. He was keyed up enough about his parents.

Emma heard the sound of the front door opening and closing. Surely they hadn’t arrived already? She looked up to see Laura standing in the kitchen doorway.

Laura. Emma had forgotten all about her. She looked at the table. The five place settings. Quickly she went to the cabinet and pulled out another plate.

“Are you expecting company?” Laura asked.

“Ya.”
Emma whirled around. “Adam and his parents.”

“I see.” Laura stared at the table again.

Emma hurried to place the plate on the table. “Sorry, I miscounted.”

Laura picked up the plate and handed it to her. “That’s okay. I’m not hungry anyway.”

Laura’s stomach let out a loud rumbling. Emma moved to put the plate back on the table, but Laura put her hand on Emma’s arm.

“I really don’t want to eat tonight.”

Emma met her gaze and understood. She took the plate and piled it with meatloaf, mashed potatoes, gravy, and green beans.

She handed it to Laura. “In case you change your mind. You can eat in your room, if you prefer.”

Laura took the plate, nodded, and left the kitchen.

Emma leaned against the counter and sighed. The last thing she wanted was to make Laura feel separate from the family, and she’d done exactly that by forgetting about her for supper.