Читать книгу The Amish Widow's New Love - Liz Tolsma - Страница 15

Chapter Three

The sirens wailed as the ambulance raced from the bakery’s parking lot, carrying Simon Herschberger to the hospital, his wife at his side. Elam relaxed his shoulders. His friend and mentor was in gut hands now.

He turned to walk up the driveway, back to his wagon loaded with lumber for the picnic tables. The crowd of curious Englischers dispersed, some to their cars, others into the line for their baked goods.

Naomi scurried in front of him, blocking his path, her hands on her hips. “What did you do that for?” Her voice was a low growl.

“Do what?” His innocence was an act, one she was sure to see through.

“Volunteer us, me, to organize the auction. How could you do that without consulting me? Do you know how much time and effort that takes?” Color rose in her cheeks. “And I have a very sick bobbeli to care for. One who needs surgery as soon as possible. When am I supposed to have the time to work on this with you? You, of all people.”

The shine in her face got his blood to pumping. Her anger pierced him. When had their love turned to such bitterness? He peered around. Several of the Englisch stared at them. “You might want to keep your voice down.” He nodded in the direction of the bakery.

She whipped around and then turned to face him, the red that had graced her cheeks dissipating.

“That’s why I said you and I would put it together. Much of the money raised will go to pay Joseph’s medical bills and my daed’s. You’re as invested in this as I am. I thought you’d want to be part of it.”

“I have no desire to do anything other than sew a few quilts and bake a couple of pies. Besides that, leave me out of it.”

“Simon and Sylvia are counting on us.” Ja, it would be difficult to see her on a regular basis, but he could find a way to do it. Couldn’t she? Maybe they would be able to discover a path beyond the hurt.

“I suggest you volunteer someone else. It won’t be me.” She turned her back to him once more and started for the bakery.

He caught her by the elbow. Why he did it when she had just lashed out at him, he couldn’t say. “Won’t you reconsider?”

“Who’s making a scene now?”

He bent to her height and whispered in her ear, the clean scent of soap tickling his nose. “Please assist me. I’ll do most of the work.”

“Aren’t you helping your daed on the farm? Since his stroke, I think he’d need you.” She kept her gaze forward.

“I am, but Isaac will soon be back to take over the day-to-day operations. You know farming isn’t my life’s calling.”

“Go build your picnic tables, Elam, and leave me alone.” She yanked free of his grasp and scuttled to the kitchen.

This time, he let her go.

He scrubbed his face. Would he ever live down what he’d done years ago? It had been an accident, and she had turned her back on him when everyone else did. Then and now it seemed she couldn’t pardon the man she had claimed to love. He lost himself in the work in front of him, sawing and screwing and sanding until he shed his jacket and wiped sweat from his forehead, the day warm for early spring.

The line of customers stretched out the door, around the path, up the steps and into the parking lot. Naomi and the others inside would be busy. But he glanced up as a group of Amish women exited through the back door. And there Naomi was, in the middle of the bunch, a slight smile touching her lips as she reacted to whatever Rachel said.

He averted his gaze. Bumping into her so much made being back in the district more difficult. Part of him still loved her as much as when he left. But another part of him ached at her hard-heartedness. Motherhood added a soft roundness to her face, color to her cheeks, straightness to her back. Though he had first thought she hadn’t changed, she was not the woman he left behind.

“What are you doing there?”

Elam sucked in a breath. Rachel peered over his shoulder as he screwed two pieces of wood together. “You want to scare a man to death?”

“Ach, it’s not that easy to frighten you. If I had really wanted to, I would have snuck up even quieter.” Rachel stood with her arms crossed.

“So you were trying to give me a heart attack. Isn’t it enough we’ve had an ambulance here once already today?”

Naomi tugged on Rachel’s arm. “Come on, let’s have some lunch. The other girls are already sitting down to eat. It’s busy, and they’ll need us back soon. Especially with Sylvia not here.”

Rachel nodded at Elam. “Why don’t you join us?”

“Ja, I need a break.” Elam wiped his hands on his pants. “Let me wash up, and I’ll join you.”

A scowl appeared on Naomi’s face. Well, she may not be happy about it, but that wouldn’t stop him from getting a bite to eat. More than anything, he wanted her forgiveness. Everyone’s forgiveness.

After a stop in the washroom to scrub his hands and face, he joined the girls at a table away from where the customers ate their baked goods. Still the crowds stared, giggled and even pointed.

The only spot available was on the end of the bench, right beside Naomi. He plopped down, and she scooted as far away from him as possible, knocking elbows with Rachel as she unwrapped her sandwich from the wax paper. Rachel scraped some dilly chicken salad onto a paper plate and handed it to Elam.

He ate a few bites before turning to Naomi. “When would be a gut time to get together to work on the auction? I can speak to Sylvia when she returns from the hospital, find out what Simon has planned and what we still need to do. Maybe tomorrow night?”

“I told you I’m not working with you. You volunteered for this. Take care of it on your own.” Her words were so icy, her breath should have puffed in small clouds in front of her.

“Wait.” He grabbed her by the forearm. She winced and pulled away. Should he press the matter? Ja, what did he have to lose? He had promised Simon. “You haven’t heard the best part yet.”

“There’s more?” She hugged herself.

“We can make it the biggest, most successful auction yet if you tell your story about Daniel and Joseph to the newspapers across the state. The Englisch will flock here to buy quilts and furniture and baked goods, all to support a widow and her little son.”

She clenched her fists and sat back, almost tilting off the bench. “You want me to do what?” She almost screeched by the end.

He closed his eyes and grimaced. Once again, he had managed to anger her. He couldn’t seem to do anything else.

* * *

A cold sweat broke out all over Naomi. “Absolutely not.” She kept her voice low to avoid drawing attention from the bakery’s customers for the second time today but stern enough for Elam to be clear about her desires. “I will not help you with the auction. And I will not, under any circumstance, go to the papers.” She wadded up her sandwich wrapper and stuffed it into her bag.

He opened his eyes, and a vein in his neck throbbed. “After all this time, are you still so angry?”

Her thoughts scrambled in her brain like eggs in a frying pan. How did she identify this burning in her chest? Anger? Or something just the opposite? “So much has changed since the night of the accident. So much that can never be undone. Don’t you understand?”

“I do. But you once claimed to love me. Didn’t that mean anything? Can’t you forgive me?”

She breathed in and out, the back of her neck aching. “You ask too many difficult questions. Ones I don’t have the answers for, that I may never have the answers for. I’m dealing with my husband’s loss and my son’s serious illness and disability. Isn’t that enough?”

The other women gathered the remains of their lunches and meandered inside to resume work. Naomi rose, as well. With a brush of his hand against hers, time stood still. Just like years ago, her knees went mushy, and she thumped into her seat. She nodded at Rachel to stay. Her friend shrugged and bit into a peanut butter cookie.

Elam plowed ahead. “The auction is just a couple weeks away. If you’re going to tell your story to the papers, we have to contact the reporters soon. You want to give their readers enough notice so they can make plans to come here.”

“It’s bad enough to have these people here, staring at us. We’re nothing more than a tourist attraction.” She motioned wide, her gesture sweeping over the lot packed with cars, one pulling up the gravel driveway every couple of minutes. “But to encourage even more of them to come, that’s not a gut idea.”

“What are they going to do?”

“Disrupt our lives. Mine has been stretched and changed until I don’t recognize it. I don’t need any further interference.” Couldn’t he go away and leave her alone? Just leave her in peace? “Why are you even back in the area? Do you want to bring the Englisch to us?”

“Nein, not at all.”

But he had abandoned her. When she’d gone to him for comfort, he had left. And hadn’t returned until now. “Don’t you miss the friends you made out there?”

“I missed the Amish much more.”

“And your family? How do they feel about you being back? Won’t they miss you when you leave again?”

“I’m home to stay, Naomi.”

She couldn’t help but be doubtful. Forever didn’t mean much to him.

He stabbed his plastic fork on his plate. “Listen to me. The most important person to you in your life is your son, nein?”

“Ja, that’s right.”

“He’s beautiful, Naomi. Such a gift from the Lord. All you have left of Daniel.”

Rachel stared straight ahead, her eyes filling with tears. “My brother would have done anything for his little boy.”

“He would have been a wunderbaar daed.” Naomi patted Rachel’s hand.

Elam nodded. “Parents are like that. They would make any sacrifice for their children. Even though I’m not a daed yet, I know I would walk to the moon if I thought it would help my children. Isn’t giving Joseph the best chance at a happy, healthy life worth anything you might have to do to make that happen?”

Tears now clouded Naomi’s eyes. The way Elam had of putting things... “Of course. That’s why I’m working here. That’s why I take him to the doctor, why I walk the floor with him at night, sing to him, love him. But there are things I can think of that I wouldn’t do.”

“Wouldn’t you do anything that was legal, moral and ethical?”

“Maybe.” Every time Elam came near her, she couldn’t think straight. He spoke with pretty words and was very convincing. If he were Englisch, perhaps he would be a lawyer.

“All you would have to do is sit down with a couple of reporters and tell your story. Tell them how much you love Joseph. What he means to you. And the good the auction does, not only for your son, but for people like Aaron and Simon and my daed.”

All of her muscles tensed. She couldn’t cry. Wouldn’t let him see how much he affected her. But the back of her throat burned.

Why did God have to take Daniel? Why did He have to make Joseph so sick? And why had He brought Elam back?

“Fine, I’ll think about it.”