Thankful (4 page)

A
t four o'clock that afternoon, Christina sat down with a sigh at one of the two-person tables in front of the picture windows that lined the front of the Sugarcreek Inn. As the muscles in her body eased, she kicked out her legs and stretched her arms lightly in a most unladylike way.

She didn't care though. She felt a terrific sense of satisfaction about all that she'd accomplished.

Goodness, but she'd worked so hard! Learning to be a server was tougher than it looked. In addition, running back and forth from the kitchen with meals and pie and coffee and . . . well,
everything
took more than a bit of coordination and planning! Never had she been so thankful to have black tennis shoes on her feet.

Through it all she kept thinking about Aden and how impressed he would surely be when he heard about how well she'd done. Just imagining how pleased he was going to be made the generous slice of lemon chess pie she was eating taste even better.

Mrs. Kent had given her the slice of pie when her shift was over. “You did a good job today, Christina,” she'd said. “Every time I looked, you were on your feet, bustling to the kitchen or visiting with customers. You've earned yourself a break and a snack. Take a moment and enjoy a treat,” she said before she'd left for the bank.

Though usually Christina would have felt self-conscious about eating a slice of pie when all of her friends were still working, she accepted her boss's offer with a grateful smile. Her feet hurt, her nerves were frayed, and, unfortunately, she had been unable to stop thinking about Aden, and the difference between what he'd said and what she'd wished she'd heard.

As the minutes ticked by, moving from four o'clock to a quarter after and then four thirty, much of the elation she'd felt slowly ebbed away.

She stood up to get a cup of tea and then sat back down to watch the clock some more. As the minutes passed, she picked at the remaining half of pie, which suddenly didn't taste all that good anymore.

And began to worry. Aden was late. Really late. It was now almost five o'clock.

After taking her plate to the kitchen, she tried to put things into perspective. Aden was likely stuck in traffic or maybe he'd had a difficult time getting out of work early. No doubt he was probably wishing that he was doing anything else besides running to pick her up from her job.

Then the door blew open, bringing the one person who had always interested her just a little too much. “Aden!” she called out happily before rethinking her greeting. Here, again, she was acting a bit childish when she should have been showing him that she was a grown woman.

But whether he thought her childish or not, he turned right toward her. His lips curved in what had to be a mirror image of hers—a true combination of happiness and relief. “I'm sorry I'm so late. I had a time of it, getting out of the hospital when I was supposed to. Were you worried I'd forgotten?”

“I knew you hadn't forgotten.”

Pulling his black stocking cap off his head, he shook his golden-brown hair away from his eyes. “Boy, it has gotten cold out there. I doubt the temperature has made it past the teens today.”

She got to her feet. “I'll bring you a cup of
kaffi
.”

“Danke.”
As he watched her walk across the almost-empty restaurant, he said, “I hope you weren't too worried. Sometimes I feel like I'd give a pretty penny for the use of a cell phone for five minutes.”

She smiled. She'd certainly thought that a time or two. After placing a mug of steaming brew in front of him, flavored just the way he liked it, with only a small dash of cream, she finally replied, “I was fine.”

Taking a sip of coffee, he stretched out his legs. “This tastes great. They had me transporting patients all day today. I barely had time to eat.”

Although it was obvious he was trying to hide it, he kept glancing over to a young couple eating steaming bowls of vegetable soup two tables over.

“Aden, are you hungry? Would you like a piece of pie? Or maybe even a bowl of soup?”

“I would, if it's not too much trouble. I didn't get much of a chance to eat today.”

“Not even your special lunch we packed you?”

“I'm afraid that was gone by eleven this morning.”

“Even Treva's brownies?” she teased.

“Especially Treva's brownies. Everyone at the hospital loves them.”

“I'll go get you whatever you would like. Remember, today is your day.” Of course, the instant she said that, she regretted her words. She knew how much he hated to be reminded of that day. He'd even told her again that morning.

She scanned his face. Sure enough, there was a thread of irritation in his eyes.

And just like that, a new tension had appeared between them. “I'm sorry I brought it up.”

“Don't worry about it.” His hands curved around his mug. “I shouldn't be so sensitive, we both know that. So . . . is there any coconut cream pie to be had?”

“There's always that, Aden,” she teased. “I'll be right back.”

When she got to the kitchen, she said hello to some of the girls who worked the supper shift and went ahead and sliced Aden a generous portion of pie herself. As she walked to him, she knew that no piece of pie could make amends for her thoughtless comment.

“Aden, I don't know why I brought up it being your day. Especially since we'd both decided not to mention it.”

“It's nothing. I've got thick skin by now.” He forked a good-sized portion and popped it into his mouth. “Good pie.”

“I'll let Marla know.” She edged into her seat and watched him eat. And then before she knew it, she blurted out what was on her mind. “Aden, do you ever think of me in a special way?”

He stilled. “In a special way?”

“You know . . . ” She shrugged. “Like I'm something more to you than the girl you saved ten years ago.”

He choked, and his fork landed on the table with a clatter. After she patted his back and offered him some ice water, he glared at her. “Why in the world are you asking me something like that?”

“No reason,” she said quickly. Because, really, how could she even begin to explain all of the things she'd been thinking about him? “I mean, no reason beyond the fact that today is the anniversary of your rescuing me.”

“There must be some reason.”

“I don't know. I guess it's because someone called you my brother today.”

He looked as shocked as she'd felt. “I'm definitely not your brother.”

She smiled, glad that she'd brought up the topic for discussion. “I agree.” Feeling a little bit braver, she said, “As a matter of fact, I've never thought of you like a brother.” If only they were alone! Then maybe, just maybe, she would have the nerve to share how she really felt about him!

Eyeing her, he leaned back in his chair. “I've never thought of you as a sister. Hmm . . . I suppose I'm more like your guardian.”

“My . . . my guardian?”

“
Jah
.” His smile turned complacent. “I think that's a real
gut
fit, don't you?”

“Not especially.” Unable—actually unwilling—to keep the hurt out of her voice, she said, “Why in the world would you think of yourself as my guardian?”

“Well, you're the eldest. And you have no brothers to look after you.”

“I have Nate and Henry.”

“You know what I mean. They're fourteen and fifteen.” Relaxing again, he picked up his fork and jabbed another chunk of pie. “And while your parents are the nicest folks I've ever met, they've got their hands full with the house and the farm and the animals and such. So I've always thought I had better take on that role.”

She wasn't enjoying the picture he was painting of her: someone to be looked after. As a duty. A chore. “Aden, I have done my share of looking after my sisters and brothers. I have a job and a lot of responsibilities, too. I don't need a guardian. And I certainly don't need you to feel obligated to look after me.”

Back down went that fork. “Christina, why are you so peeved?”

“Because you're seeing things all wrong.”

“Truly? How would you describe me? How do you see our relationship?”

Frustrating. That's how she would describe their relationship.

And as for him? Well, she would describe Aden Reese as tall and lean with hair the color of dark honey and matching eyes. Competent and calm. Steady and sturdy. And handsome, of course. To her, he'd always been so handsome. . . .

Buying herself some time, she teased, “I think you know what you look like, Aden.”

“Come on, tell me what you think of me.” His eyes had turned more serious. And the way he was looking at her hinted that he was as apprehensive about what she was going to say as she'd felt about his words.

And so she prevaricated. “I think of you as a friend.”

For a split second, something flared in his eyes that looked a whole lot like disappointment, but it was quickly hidden. “
Jah
, I would say we had a real good
friendship
.”

“There's nothing like being
friends
.” Sure, it wasn't what she really wanted. But it was better than considering him her sibling.

Finally, he took another bite of pie. Then another one. “You know, there's nothing at all wrong with thinking of each other as good friends. Obviously, that's what we are, right?”

“Right.”

“I mean, why else would I be the one to take you places?”

“Why else?” she said brightly.

But inside, she felt like a part of her heart had just shriveled up and died. For some reason, Aden seemed intent on making sure she knew exactly how he thought of her. And how he wanted their relationship to stay.

Today might have been his special day, but it was perfectly obvious that it needed to be a special day for her, too.

She needed to stop confusing gratitude with love. Stop confusing infatuation with romance.

She needed to stop loving Aden Reese. She needed to stop that, right this minute.

T
he road back to the Kempf house had never felt so long. As Maisey meandered down the long, dirt and gravel private lane that led to their sprawling house, Aden knew that something needed to change—and fast.

He couldn't continue with the way things were with Christina any longer. For too long he'd been pretending that things could always stay the same between them.

But it was mighty obvious now that they certainly never could. The Lord gave each one of them a responsibility to be the best disciple of his character that was possible. That meant that each man and woman needed to become someone to be proud of.

And he was not proud of the way he thought about Christina. He'd been lying through his teeth when he'd spouted all that nonsense about being a guardian and a
gut
friend.

No. In his mind, she was his. He'd saved her life. He liked her independent streak and easy smiles and her kind heart. She was also beautiful. He'd never seen a prettier girl.

To make matters worse, he'd secretly loved her for years. Sometimes it took everything he had not to touch her. Hug her hello. Give in to temptation and brush his lips against her cheek.

And, yes, to maybe even do more than that.

And staying longer at the Kempfs' house, taking advantage of their warm hospitality and giving nature, was not the right thing.

He needed to move out soon. Before he did something that would shock Christina.

And then? Then he was going to need to begin looking around for another girl to court. Someone suitable. Someone whom he could grow to love and not feel conflicted about.

Someone who didn't think of him simply as a friend.

Someone who wasn't part of the best family he'd ever known.

chapter four

It was six in the morning, and Judith and Ben had already been up for two hours.

“Time has never moved so slowly,” Judith grumbled as she sipped her coffee and watched the kitchen clock pass time like an obstinate donkey on a country trail.

Beside her, Ben grinned at her statement, though she noticed that he didn't refute her words. “The day does seem long already. I sure wish time passed this way when we're sleeping. I can never get enough sleep.”

“Maybe we'll soon get even less,” she teased.

“Maybe.” His expression dimmed a bit. “Judith, do ya think we should go over to your folks' place and talk to them before we call Bernie back? Their advice might be worth listening to.”

“
Nee
. I want this to be our decision, Ben. Yours and mine. Not my family's.”

“You know your parents wouldn't try to force us to change our minds. They aren't that way.”

“I know they wouldn't, but I don't want to have to explain myself. Or explain what fostering is all about.” More to the point, she didn't want anyone to plant even the smallest seed of doubt into her dreams.

All night long she'd prayed about their decision and had asked the Lord to give her strength and patience, too. The longer she'd prayed, the more certain she felt that she was following His will.

Actually, she felt like she was meant to be a foster mother to baby James.

And even though it made no sense, she wanted to hug the feeling of anticipation to her chest as close as possible, for as long as possible. Soon enough their decision would be a topic of conversation around her family's kitchen table. For just a few more hours, she wanted things to be just between her and her husband. To enjoy this sense of peace and purpose.

Ben nodded, but still he gazed at her in a worried way. “Judith, dear, you do understand that fostering this baby ain't the same as adopting it, right? I mean, Bernie sounded certain that this would be a temporary thing.”