How close?
Rearing over her. Huge, with meaty fists, a snarl baring his teeth. He’s going to kill me. There was nobody to hear, nobody to see. If she’d locked her door—
Miriam softly saying her name interrupted the scene playing in her head. There were triggers that sent her to another place and time. She would have fought a touch, but the gentle voice was different. Even so, it took her a minute to compose herself, to see Miriam leaning against the counter, her worry evident.
“Julia? Was der schinner is letz?”
“Speak English,” her brother said from right behind Julia. He’d come forward silently.
Now, he towered over her. Unable to bear it, Julia leaped to her feet, whirling at the same time and backing away from him. She felt herself shaking. At least she kept the mewling sound from escaping.
The complete astonishment on his face told her how dreadfully she’d embarrassed herself. This hadn’t happened in a long time. Why now? She wanted this job! She loved it! Now they’d think she was crazy. Ab im kopf, that’s how they’d describe her. Off in the head. And maybe she was.
“I . . . I’m all right,” she said with difficulty. Swallowed. “I’m sorry. I was . . . dizzy for a minute, and you startled me.”
Dizzy. Now they’d ship her off to the ER, in case she was prone to mini-seizures.
Miriam’s face had softened. She might buy the explanation, but Luke didn’t.
Julia hurried to add, “I’m not used to the heat. I probably haven’t been drinking enough water.”
“Oh! Didn’t Luke or Daad show you the refrigerator? There is always water in there.”
Luke, in fact, disappeared into the workshop, returning immediately with a bottle of water. Droplets beaded on the chilled metal bottle. He approached cautiously—looming . . . no, no—to hold it out.
Julia made sure not to brush his fingers with hers when she accepted it. “Thank you. I am sorry. This . . . isn’t like me.”
“It makes no trouble,” Miriam said, her accent more pronounced than it had been. “Sehr gut.”
Was that the equivalent of “it’s all good”? Julia smiled shakily at her. “Denke.” She tried not to look at Luke, standing well away now, but watchful, suspicious.
Well, that hadn’t changed.
She took a long drink of the icy cold water, pulled herself together enough to reassure both sister and brother, and pounced on the phone when it providentially rang.
“Yes, Mr. Russell. I understand. I’ll tell Mr. Bowman that you’re running late. I’m sure that’ll be fine.” The warmth she’d injected into her voice seemed to reassure both Bowmans.
Miriam smiled and waved and then hustled out the front door and down the sidewalk. Luke faded away when Julia wasn’t looking.
Phone call over, Julia bent forward until her forehead rested on the smooth wooden surface of the counter, and moaned.
Of course, that’s when the bell over the door rang and she looked up to see Nick entering.
* * *
* * *
ELI DIDN’T SEEM to mind shaking the police chief’s hand, but Luke was less happy. Chief Durant had stopped by to check out his sister’s employers, and he didn’t make any bones about it. He wanted a tour. He wanted to scrutinize father and son. He did wait until she was out of earshot before he asked about their expectations for her. Luke thought Julia had enough pride not to appreciate her brother acting like a stern, overprotective father.
Luke was annoyed enough to abandon his daad to the man and go back to work—or, at least, pretend to work. This was one of the moments that still came too frequently, when he struggled with what God expected of him. Not perfection, no, but although he was at peace with his decision to come home, his own moodiness was unexpected. He needed to cut himself some slack, though; even after a year back home, he felt the worldly side of him still dominated too often. The bishop had been right in wanting him to wait before being baptized. If he had known that Luke still struggled, he might have insisted on a longer probationary period before allowing Luke to make the irrevocable commitment. Yet it was done.
Shifting his thoughts, he considered what was behind that scene in the office. Julia had sprung from him as if she were terrified. That didn’t look like any dizzy spell he’d ever seen.
He rubbed his jaw, unsettled on a deep level. Had something bad happened to her? He’d read the newspapers while he was out in the world. Violence seemed to be the norm. Perhaps his increasing awareness partially explained his decision to return to the fold.
No matter what, he felt guilty for allowing her to see that he didn’t want her here. What if she’d misjudged him and thought him capable of the violence that was on the television news every night? What could he say to let her know he would never hurt her? Or would he only make matters worse? Luke had no idea.
He was still brooding when he became aware the police chief had stopped at his side.
“You don’t have much to say, do you?” the man said.
Luke raised his eyebrows. “I don’t know you. I’m not good at meaningless talk.”
Nicholas Durant’s jaw muscles bulged, and if Luke was any judge, that was an angry glint in his brown eyes. He muttered something under his breath and stalked away.
Listening to his voice in the office, followed by Julia’s softer voice, Luke understood that if something bad—he didn’t want to define what—had happened to either of his sisters, he would feel protective, too. That was natural.
What did upset Luke was the knowledge that now he, too, would worry about Julia. She worked for him, as much as for his father. Wasn’t it his responsibility to make sure she felt safe here?
Yes. But how was that compatible with his determination to keep his distance? He greatly feared it wasn’t, although the fact that it seemed he was the one who scared her might help.
Conflicted and not liking the feeling, he was grateful to see that it was almost five. He needed to get away.
Chapter Three
LUKE DIDN’T UNDERSTAND what drove him, but in the absence of his father—and where was he?—he felt the need to check on Julia, to . . . reassure her, maybe.
Frustrated to be compelled to do exactly what he’d told himself he wouldn’t, Luke opened the door into the front office. Julia was shutting down the computer his father had reluctantly purchased and not tried very hard to learn how to use. Daad had tried to convince Luke to take over the inventory and bookkeeping because he was good on computers, but Luke had dug in his heels. If he’d wanted to do that with his life, he wouldn’t have come home to Tompkin’s Mill.
Julia raised her head and saw him. Her lips firmed. “I’m sorry. I mean, about my brother coming by. I can’t believe he did that! I’m twenty-nine years old, and he’s acting as if I’m a sixteen-year-old with her first job.”
Luke leaned his shoulder against the doorframe. “Big brothers are like that. Even Amish ones.”
She let out a huff. “Well, I’m going to chew him out when I get home!”
A chuckle rose from Luke’s chest. “Miriam and Rose have chewed me out before. I told them they were wasting their breath.”
The impulse to humor died as he felt the jagged edges of another piece of guilt he carried because he hadn’t been here when Miriam’s come-calling friend had died in a logging accident. She’d had the rest of the family’s support, but not his. Nobody had known how to reach him. That was nothing he could change. Every decision a man or woman made had consequences. He had to live with his own.
Julia watched him, her extraordinary eyes troubled. “I’ve wondered about Miriam.” She sounded hesitant. “Aren’t most Amishwomen her age already married? I didn’t like to ask . . .”
Only an hour or two ago, he wouldn’t have expected to have this kind of conversation with her, but he sensed her concern rose from compassion. “They are,” he ag
reed. “Not all. Some teach school for a few years, or hold a job like she’s doing. Miriam would have been married by now, though. The man she loved was crushed when a tree he and his partner were felling landed on him. That was five years ago. She seems happy, but hasn’t become interested in any other man.”
“It takes time to work through grief. It should, don’t you think?”
“I do, although it helps to know God had a purpose calling Levi home when He did.” He paused. “I wanted to say I’m sorry if I startled you earlier. If you didn’t know I was there . . .” He purposely left it open-ended.
She tried to smile. “Thank you, but it wasn’t anything to do with you. It was just . . . nothing important.”
Luke discovered how much he disliked smiles produced only to cover sadness. He wasn’t much happier with her discounting herself and her reactions as unimportant. But he didn’t know her well enough to argue, and didn’t want to know her that well. So he only nodded and said, “Good night, Julia. We’ll see you tomorrow.”
This smile was a little better. “Tomorrow.”
* * *
* * *
JULIA SAW REMARKABLY little of Luke during the rest of the short week beyond the occasional glimpses when she went back to the workshop to ask Eli a question. Luke’s glance in her direction always appeared disinterested before he returned his focus to the wood he was cutting or oil he applied. Fortunately, Eli didn’t alarm her at all. His warmth and kindness were almost tangible. She couldn’t imagine this man losing his temper.
Luke was something else. It was as if the father were a placid pool, the son a deep river with a shimmering surface hiding powerful currents beneath. Yet he couldn’t be Amish without believing wholeheartedly in forgiveness while rejecting violence. She found herself wanting to ask him about his faith in an effort to understand him.
Truthfully, Julia thought about Luke Bowman entirely too much.
By Saturday, she felt increasingly confident on the job, although the showroom was much busier on the weekend and she had to ask a lot of questions. Still, she made it through the day, and one couple bought a gorgeous dining room table with a set of eight chairs and the matching buffet. She did a private victory dance before she opened the workshop door to tell Eli and Luke. Both came to see which dining room set had sold.
“Ach, we need to fill that place,” Eli said.
“You have more in storage?”
“Ja, a part of my barn. We built a wall and put the insulation in. The temperature must be kept the same all the time, you understand.”
She grinned at him. “Ja.”
“When is it to be shipped?” Eli asked.
“Wednesday. The buyers arranged it while they were here. I should have asked—”
“No, no, that is gut.”
Luke didn’t say a single word.
That evening, Nick found her curled up comfortably on the sofa, scouring Craigslist.
“Rentals?” he asked. He seemed reconciled to her having a job, which was something.
“Yes, there are more available in town than I expected. Did you know someone is converting that really cool brick building on Elm Street into apartments?” Gorgeous ones, from what she could see, with refinished hardwood floors, high ceilings, and distinctive woodwork echoing the original moldings and casings.
Another thing she loved about Tompkin’s Mill and the surrounding area was the sense of history. So many of the farmhouses dated to the early twentieth century, and she often saw primitive stone structures that were likely pre–Civil War. Even here in town, little was really new.
Julia thought her fascination with quilting had begun with a Log Cabin quilt her mother kept tucked away in a cedar chest at home. It had been made by Julia’s maternal great-grandmother. As a girl, she’d often opened the chest to study the stitches and finger the many different fabrics. According to her mother, they’d have been scraps left over from dresses or shirts made by family members. She’d touch one and wonder. Was that from a dress made for her grandmother as a little girl?
Even now, Julia loved the traditional patterns best, because they’d been handed down by women from other generations. Knowing she was a part of the whole that flowed from past to future felt comforting. That the old buildings here still stood and were protected gave her the same feeling.
Watching her, Nick unsnapped his holster from his belt and unbuttoned his cuffs. “That used to be a school. Built in about 1920, from what I gather. I heard it’s being renovated.” Nick sounded surprisingly reasonable, until he added with a hint of smugness, “The apartments aren’t ready for tenants yet, are they?”
“They’re pre-leasing. The second-floor apartments will be available starting July 1.” She smiled at him. “That’s only two weeks away.”
He grunted. “What’s wrong with living here? It’s free.” Then he played dirty. “It’s safe.”
She stiffened her spine. “I’ve had my own place for years, Nick. You know that. If I cling to you, I’d be taking a step backwards. That’s not what I want to do.”
“You think I’m trying to make you dependent on me?” Frustration turned his face grim.
Julia softened her voice. “I think you don’t want to have to worry about me.”
He held her eyes for a good twenty seconds before bowing his head and rubbing the back of his neck. “You’re right.”
“Ha! I wish I’d recorded that! I’m sure it’s a first.”
Rueful acceptance on his face, Nick said, “Where you’re concerned, probably. Enjoy it. The words will never cross my lips again.”
Julia laughed, jumped up, and kissed his cheek. He hugged her. For a moment, she savored the closeness. Despite their four-year age difference, they had been best friends growing up. Just knowing he was here in town gave her a sense of security she still needed.
Not that she’d tell him that. Why give her brother, the control freak, any added ammunition?
She wouldn’t be able to look at apartments until Monday. No, not even then, she realized, unless she did it first thing in the morning. Miriam had invited her to the midday meal on Monday to be followed by the quilt frolic. And truthfully, she wasn’t in that big a hurry to move out. She did take pleasure in cooking for Nick, who had probably eaten a lot of microwave meals until her arrival.
Maybe that’s why he wanted her to stay.
* * *
* * *
SUNDAY, SHE AND Nick attended the service at a Congregational church in Tompkin’s Mill. Her first Sunday here, she’d expected to have to go alone. Nick hadn’t been a churchgoer back in Cleveland, which she’d regretted but understood. His job would turn anyone into a cynic, or worse. How could even the most devout see God’s hand in a vicious crime scene or head-on collision that killed an entire family?
For her, it was different. After the attack and her eventual release from the hospital, she hadn’t gone back to her church for nearly three months, but when she did, she found desperately needed comfort. Delusion, Nick had said once, then apologized.
Seeing her surprise that first week here, he admitted that he had joined the church because it was expected of him as a public official. Amish or Englischer, people in this town attended worship every Sunday. He faced enough doubt among townsfolk already by virtue of being a northerner.
This Sunday, Julia found her mind wandering during the service, either because of her eventful week or because the sermon was uninspiring. The heat in the church didn’t help either. She dabbed surreptitiously at sweat on her forehead and throat several times.
She had to turn in her rental car soon. Keeping it ate briskly away at her savings—but without it, she’d take twice as long on a bus to get to work, and would be otherwise stranded until she bought a car. Back to Craigslist and the newspaper tonight.
She’d email Mom tonight and ask her to sell her aging Volkswa
gen right away. Lucky she’d left it at her parents’ house. The apartment was paid through July, so the rest of her stuff could stay where it was until she had rented a place here.
Blinking away the sting of sweat, Julia had the fleeting image of herself in a buggy, holding the reins close behind the powerful rump of a horse.
Her brother shot her a look that made her wonder if she was smiling at a particularly inappropriate part of the sermon.
Okay, given that she’d never even sat atop a horse before, she’d settle for a ride in a buggy.
This was an off-church Sunday for the local Amish, she knew. They held services every other Sunday, using the intervening one for visiting and time with family. What would their services be like? Trying to imagine one held in a barn or kitchen, she decided they must have dull ministers, too, mixed with inspirational ones. Even if she became fluent in Deitsh, she wouldn’t understand the hymns or their Bibles, as she’d read that they were in an archaic form of German.
Luke would certainly attend with the rest of his family, including Miriam. The other sister as well, unless she had married a man from another church district. Were there other boys in the family? Surely there were. It must be rare among them to have only three children.
Julia’s heart squeezed, just as her hand would into a fist. She had always assumed she’d have children. Now, she didn’t see how that was possible, unless she went to a sperm bank. But her dream had included a husband who was also a good father. Was she able and willing to raise a child alone?
Nick’s elbow poked her side. The congregation was rising to sing a hymn. In fact, he’d already opened the book, probably because he’d forgotten the words even to the hymns he had known well as a child.
And she had sat here for almost two hours while giving no thought at all to God, which was not like her. She sent a single apology wrapped in a prayer winging upward even as she remembered the last thing Eli had said to her at closing yesterday.
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