Officially feeling pathetic, she picked up the receiver and set it back on the cradle. She’d have to start all over with voice mail.
That’s when she heard the door from the workshop open, and everything inside her went still.
Chapter Nine
FORCING A SMILE, Julia swiveled in her desk chair, expecting Eli but seeing that both men had walked in.
Neither held a small blond child.
“Gute mariye,” she said. Or croaked.
Eli smiled. “You sound like one of us now.”
Apparently her accent was acceptable when she used one of the couple of dozen sentences she’d learned.
“I wanted to join my son in saying thank you for your help yesterday,” he added. “It was good you were here.”
She clasped her hands in front of her. “How is Abby?”
“Well. She is home with her grossmammi. Fun, they’ll have today.”
Of course they would. Abby wouldn’t give Julia another thought. Soon, she would be swallowed by her huge, loving Amish family, who would give her everything she needed.
Julia—she was an outsider. An auslander, and always would be.
And she hated herself for the stab of envy that felt as if it could be fatal.
Somehow she kept a smile on her face. “I’m sure they will. I’ll bet there will happen to be some cookies around.”
“Ja!” Eli gave a belly laugh. “Ach, I need to get to work. Unless there are messages I should hear?”
“No, not yet. I haven’t finished.” Or really started.
“If Jason Warren calls, tell him his dining room table and chairs will be ready by the end of next week.”
“I’ll do that.”
He glanced at his son, who had neither said a word nor smiled. Without comment, Eli went back through the door that had been left standing open.
Luke stayed where he was. Lines in his face and dark shadows beneath his eyes told her he hadn’t slept well. Discomfort was apparent, too, and more that she couldn’t read.
“You look tired,” she said, barely above a whisper.
“I don’t think Abby slept at all. She was scared by herself, scared of me.”
“Oh, no. I hoped . . .”
“She was a mess when I took her to Mamm. This morning she wouldn’t let me help her dress or brush her hair or even tie her shoelaces.”
Compassion pierced her heart. “She’ll learn to trust you.”
“When?” He huffed out a breath and let his head fall back, exposing his strong throat. “I thought she’d go happily to my mother, but that’s when she decided to grab onto me.” Now he rubbed the back of his neck, as if it hurt.
“You were familiar.”
“Yes.” He studied her with somber eyes. “But she went right to you. Why you, and not Mamm?”
Was that an accusation of some sort? No, she decided. His mother was so warmly maternal, Julia would have readily gone to her. “Was it just your mother?”
“No, my aunt Barbara and cousin Katie were there also. They were canning peaches.”
“So the kitchen was busy.”
“Yes, but Mamm and Daad and I went to the living room to talk. Abby wouldn’t let go of me.”
“Could it be because their clothes are so unfamiliar to her? What you wear isn’t so different, but the long dresses and kapps . . .”
He shifted uncomfortably, the movement unusual for a man so confident. “That could be. They have an accent, too, more so than Daad’s.”
“That’s true.” She wanted to magically know the right thing to say so that he could go to work reassured that all would be well. It would be, she knew it would—eventually. But tonight might be no better. “There’s just been so much change. It’ll take Abby time to feel secure. Know that you’ll be there for her forever, that you’ll come for her every single day after work.” She heard her voice growing more and more passionate. “That she has her own room, a routine she can trust will stay the same. It’s . . . not realistic to expect her to adjust so fast.”
He didn’t blink once during that speech. After staring at her long enough for her to feel nerves jumping, Luke nodded. “She must trust that nobody will hurt her.”
Julia felt tears at the backs of her eyes at the idea that anyone could have hurt that precious, fragile child, but her instincts said it had happened. Luke obviously guessed the same.
“You’re right,” he said abruptly. “Patience is what I need.”
Absurdly, given her tangle of emotions, she found herself smiling. “You’re endlessly patient with wood. I believe you’re very capable of all the patience you’ll need.”
A light flickered in his blue eyes, and he nodded. “My father will wonder what I’m doing, wasting time talking.”
Julia didn’t say anything.
One side of his mouth turned up. “Thank you. For yesterday, and for saying what I need to hear this morning.”
The sting she’d felt instantly smoothed, she smiled back. “You’re welcome.”
He walked away without another word, the door closing behind him. Left alone, Julia took entirely too long to collect herself enough to call up voice mail once again, and actually listen to the messages this time.
* * *
* * *
APPREHENSION GREW IN Luke with every thud of Charlie’s hooves. He paid little attention to the passing landscape, none of which was new to him. He knew the bushy tops of potatoes, the tangled vines decorated with still-green squash.
He should have taken a break midday and gone to check on Abby. All day, he’d struggled to concentrate, battling guilt because he’d left while she slept. He should have woken her up, explained that he had to go to his job but his mamm and aenti would watch over her until he came back for her.
With a sound like a gunshot, a covey of quail exploded from the long grass at the edge of a cornfield. Charlie briefly broke into a canter, but Luke controlled him with firm hands on the reins. Luke’s brooding was scarcely interrupted.
He prayed his little girl hadn’t been too frightened when she awakened to find him gone. Why hadn’t his mother suggested that?
Luke shook off that annoyed thought. The responsibility for Abby was his, not his mother’s. He needed to listen to his instincts.
Except for the instinct that told him Abby would be happiest with Julia. Who should not be expected to be a child minder on top of the rest of her job. He’d liked being able to check on Abby frequently, though, watch her play or snuggle with Julia, give her a chance to grow more comfortable with his presence.
He wished his father would say something to take his mind off the tenderness he’d felt yesterday watching his new daughter with the Englisch woman. Tenderness he could not afford to feel, when it wasn’t all for the child.
“You will want to speak to the bishop soon,” his father said, out of the blue.
Luke managed not to wince. That was not quite what he’d had in mind, although it certainly distracted him from thoughts of Julia. His father was right; he’d better see Bishop Amos soon. The Amish grapevine was lightning fast despite the lack of telephones, email, and instant messaging. Even if he could trust his sister, brother, and parents to keep quiet, Katie would have eagerly told her friends and siblings. Luke wasn’t at all sure that Elam wouldn’t have blabbed, too. And any other men at the farm would hurry home to tell their wives, who would tell . . .
Yes, perhaps he should stop to talk to Amos this evening on his way home. It wouldn’t be far out of the way, and Abby might soften the bishop’s heart.
He nodded in agreement as he turned Charlie up the lane to his parents’ home.
“You will stay for dinner, ja?”
“Ja, if Mamm isn’t too tired.”
“She’d be hurt if you didn’t stay.”
Luke grimaced. Of course s
he would be.
He let his father off by the house and continued on to the barn, where he unharnessed his gelding and turned him loose in a large stall, aware of the buzzing of cicadas, a sound he often tuned out. Charlie trumpeted a challenge answered by one of the three horses outside in the pasture.
“Just for an hour or two,” Luke told him, scratching behind his ears. “Then we’ll go home.”
Charlie’s dark head bobbed as if he understood. He was already lipping up hay as Luke turned to leave the barn.
Luke reached the back doorstep, where he hesitated with his hand on the knob. Coward, he accused himself, for the second time today, and opened the door.
At first sight of his mother and Miriam bustling to put dinner on the table, he was reassured. But the worried look his sister cast him stirred up the apprehension, like sludge at the bottom of a pot.
“Where is Abby?”
His mamm turned. “Asleep, at last,” she said tautly.
At last? She’d been asleep when he left that morning.
“You were barely gone when she opened her eyes to find only strangers,” his mother continued. “She scrambled off the couch and ran. We found her hiding behind the toilet, squeezed in.”
“Mamm says she didn’t cry or scream,” Miriam contributed. “She just . . . shook. Even after I got home, she wouldn’t eat or drink, and if any of us touched her, she became as rigid as a board.”
“She was terrified,” he said flatly, sick to find his worst fears had come true.
“I’m afraid so,” his mother said, her face crumpled in distress. “I rocked her and sang to her, but nothing worked. A troubled child, she is.”
Immediately feeling defensive, he argued, “Just scared after so much change. I shouldn’t have left her.”
“You think you shouldn’t have gone to work?”
“If necessary.”
“There was no reason to expect—”
“There was all the reason in the world.” Heart heavy, he asked, “Where is she? I need to wake her up for dinner. If she sleeps too much now, there’ll be no chance of her sleeping tonight.”
His mother wasn’t happy to admit as much, but she directed him to the small downstairs bedroom used only on occasion for a sick child or for a visitor.
For a panicky moment he didn’t see her. Then his eye settled on a lump halfway down the bed. It was no bigger than a pillow. Either Mamm had pulled the covers over Abby, or she’d crawled under them herself. He hoped she was able to breathe.
Thankful that none of his family had followed him, he sat on the side of the bed and laid a hand on the bump, gently bouncing the child.
“Abby, it’s your father. I’m sorry I left this morning without telling you where I was going or when I’d be back. I will never do that again.”
She had gone very still at his touch.
“Time to come out,” he said softly. “We’ll eat dinner here with my family and then go home.” He peeled back the covers, saddened anew to see her lying facedown, her knees drawn up under her, her elbows pressed to her sides, as if she were enclosed in an egg. Again he rubbed her back. “You must be hungry. I know I am.”
When she didn’t move, he thought of what Julia had said. Patience. So he waited. At last Abby slowly uncoiled and sat up. The sheer misery and desperation in her eyes hurt more than any harsh words could have.
“I’m sorry.” He held out his arm. “Come here.”
Still wary, she did crawl inside the circle formed by his arm. Hugging her with care, he said, “I’m sorry you had such a bad day. Would you like to see Julia tomorrow?”
Her head lifted. Yes, that was hope to replace the terrible unhappiness. He truly didn’t think Julia would mind. Was it such a bad thing to do, just for a day or two? Or until the end of the week? By then he wanted to believe Abby would have become more accustomed to this new life.
He carried her to the kitchen, keeping her on his lap when he sat down. Once the rest of the family was seated, he bowed his head and held her hands together between his own as he prayed in earnest.
O Lord God, heavenly Father, bless us and these Thy gifts, which we accept from Thy tender goodness. Give us food and drink also for our souls until life eternal, that we may share at Thy heavenly table, through Jesus Christ.
Please. Teach me how to help this little girl.
Amen.
* * *
* * *
JULIA SLEPT POORLY that night, waking several times to the sound of a crying child. Once awake, no matter how hard she strained, she didn’t hear so much as a peep to suggest she had a new neighbor with a young child in the apartment building. In fact, so far as she knew, she didn’t yet have a neighbor above or below her unit, and she’d barely met the man renting the apartment beside hers. If he had any children, they lived with an ex-wife and had yet to visit.
For the first time, she was late to work. Turning into the alley, she saw a buggy, but didn’t know Eli’s from Luke’s. Their horses, though, she did know. As she parked to one side of the shed, it was a black horse that poked his head out to identify her. Charlie, Luke’s gelding. Had the two men come together, as they sometimes did?
Probably, she thought, depressed. Luke would have to drop his daughter at his parents’ house every day before coming to work, then return there to pick her up. It wouldn’t make any sense for them to drive separately and make both horses spend a hot day penned in such close quarters.
After locking her car, she stopped to pet Charlie’s sleek, still sweat-damp neck. He blew out a breath, his lips vibrating, and she laughed.
“Hold on.” He waited as she dug in her brown paper lunch bag and produced two carrot sticks. Having seen Luke give his horse treats, Julia gingerly held out the first carrot stick on her palm. He lipped it off her hand so carefully, all she felt was the tickle of whiskers.
Chuckling, she gave him the second carrot stick, patted him again, and let herself into the workroom.
It was empty. Surprised, she hurried toward the front. Wouldn’t you know, the one day she was late, someone must have needed help, requiring Luke or Eli to do her job.
Pushing through the door, she saw Luke immediately. Abby rode on his hip. Head bent toward her, he was talking softly. As Julia came to a stop, watching, he leaned over, took Abby’s tiny hand, and stroked it over the satiny finish on top of a maple wood dresser. When he let go, Abby tentatively touched the wood again and then stroked it like her daddy had.
Julia must have made a sound, because Luke turned. Two sets of blue eyes examined her. Even though her own eyes burned, she smiled.
“Luke! Abby, I’m so glad to see you.”
The little girl squirmed. When Luke crouched to set her on her feet, she ran to Julia, who went down on her knees to wrap her in her arms.
“Oh, sweetheart! Oh, my. Look at your hair.”
Rising to his feet, Luke grimaced. “It has knots. I think she hasn’t let anyone brush it in a long time. We didn’t get very far with it.”
“Oh, dear.” She smiled at Abby. “I bet it hurts, doesn’t it?”
The blond head bobbed. A rush of pleasure filled Julia at a response as clear as words.
“Will you let me try? I have a brush in my purse. Or,” she teased, “I’ll bet your daddy could let us borrow the comb he uses for Charlie’s mane and tail.”
A tiny quiver of her lips betrayed the mute girl’s amusement.
Julia looked up to see an aching kind of hope in Luke’s eyes as they rested on his daughter. Then they met hers and he took a deep breath.
“I shouldn’t even ask you, but I’m going to anyway. Abby wasn’t happy yesterday, with—” He didn’t want to say. “I pushed for too much, too fast. I can tell she likes you. If you could watch her today and maybe tomorrow . . .”
“Of course I will.” She, too, stood, the
child’s small hand captured in her own. “I would love to have Abby help me today. We’ll have fun, won’t we, sweetheart? And I bet your daddy wants to have lunch with you, doesn’t he?”
“I do.” Expression suddenly rueful, he said, “I’ll have to buy our lunch at the café, but Miriam is bound to show up with cookies again sometime this morning.”
“She’s working?”
“Yes, but she got home before me yesterday and met Abby.”
Julia tipped her head. “Why doesn’t she work for you here?”
“She did a few years back, when Elam was helping Daad. The store wasn’t so busy, and I think she was bored.” His mouth quirked. “Elam lived to annoy her, she says. And she loves to quilt, and to work with other women who feel the same.”
“I understand.” Julia smiled. “I applied there first, you know.”
Luke laughed, the skin beside his eyes crinkling in the way that gave her such a funny feeling in her belly. But then, as his smile faded, he said something that touched her even more deeply. “Daad and I got lucky.” His voice grew husky. “Thank you for coming here next.”
“I’m . . . glad I did.” The idea, she suddenly knew, of never having met Luke, or of seeing him only in passing, a tall, handsome Amishman who momentarily caught her eye, seemed unbearable.
Oh, she was in such trouble.
* * *
* * *
LUKE HADN’T EVEN gotten started when his father let himself in the back.
“Was it a good idea to bring Abby with you today?” Eli asked. “You disappointed your mother.”
Luke seriously doubted that. His mother would have gladly taken on the care of his daughter again, because that’s what a grossmammi did, but she’d been shaken yesterday to be rejected so completely, and to have to see Abby withdraw.
“I couldn’t put her through another day like that,” he told his father. “She’ll get to know Mamm and you and the rest of the family, and then it will be different. But she took to Julia right away. This morning, she ran to her as soon as Julia came in.”
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