The stairs had worn carpet that looked like it should have been replaced back in 1982. Curious about the squeak, he stepped on the stair and heard an answering groan. And, if he wasn’t mistaken, a faint crack.
“Katie, this step doesn’t just squeak. It’s about to break.”
But instead of acting alarmed, she just laughed. “Wait until you see June’s old room. Her floorboards are even worse!”
Once again, he realized he was charmed and intrigued. Both by the house in need of care and by Katie, who was so alone but still knew how to laugh.
Drawn to the sound, he followed her down the hall and wondered what she was going to show him next.
THREE
“Um, actually, I think the first really bad idea was telling my parents I didn’t want a graduation party because I was going out with all of you,” Marie said. “If I had told them yes, I would have gotten a lot of great gifts and wouldn’t have told so many lies.”
Once, when Katie was eleven or twelve, June had gotten so mad at her that she’d said Katie was missing the important part of her brain that prevented a person from blurting every little thing that appeared in one’s mind.
That one had stung.
And, because she was who she was, Katie had replied by telling her beautiful sister that she had a pimple on her forehead and that all the boys had been talking about it during church. June had blushed furiously, covered her face with her hands, and run to her room.
Katie had watched her go, pleased to have gotten the last word for once. However, to her surprise, no sense of triumph had flooded through her. Instead, she’d felt guilty.
Though she hadn’t been lying—June had had a blemish and one of the boys had indeed remarked on it—it hadn’t been all that noticeable. Tears had filled her eyes when she’d realized she’d been mighty cruel for little to no reason. June had been right, she really did have a tendency to blurt out whatever was on her mind. Katie swore to herself right then and there that she would one day learn to mind her tongue.
Unfortunately, that resolve hadn’t lasted long. Maybe twenty-four hours. But the realization that she had a problem with saying too much too quickly had stayed with her. Pounded her psyche and poured salt on her feelings of guilt for the rest of her life.
She’d tried to do better. Attempted to listen more and talk less. Unfortunately, it seemed whenever she was around Harley, such a thing wasn’t possible. There was something about him that set her on edge and made her every vulnerability raise its head and take notice.
Around Harley, she could count on the fact that he was going to be manly and handsome, quiet and capable . . . and that she would talk too much, reveal too much, and never be at her best by his side. But maybe today she would be different.
“Is this Caleb’s old room?” Harley asked, interrupting her thoughts.
Katie walked into the small bedroom and ran a hand along the basket weave quilt one of their aunts had made when Caleb graduated eighth grade. “Jah.”
“It looks all right.”
“Jah. This room isn’t in too bad of shape.” She turned and led the way to June’s room. Bracing herself, she opened the door as much as she could. “This used to be my sister’s.”
Harley took two steps in and then with a quick intake of breath, retreated.
Quickly, she closed the door again, wishing she could lock it off forever.
It took a moment for Harley to collect himself. “Ah, Katie, it smells like . . .” His voice drifted off. Even now, Harley measured each word carefully.
“I know.” For once her ability to say all kinds of harsh things was helpful. “It smells like an animal died in there.”
“You don’t sound surprised.”
“Well, unlike you, I’m used to it. And, like I’ve told you before, there wasn’t anything I could do. Soon after June left, my mother started storing snacks and wrappers in here. I’m sure they attracted a variety of mice and bugs. After three years, that happened.” She pointed to the closed door like it wasn’t obvious enough.
“Has June seen her old room?”
“Nee.” Because she’d hardly seen June since her older sister jumped the fence and reinvented herself. Lifting her chin, she said, “Shall we continue?”
He gestured with a hand for her to go forward. There were two more rooms left on this floor, hers and her mother’s. She wasn’t especially eager for him to see either.
Opening up her mother’s door, she said, “As you can see, this is my mother’s room.” Stacks of boxes, clothes, newspapers, and old fabric littered every available surface, including the majority of the bed.
“Is that a bathroom?” he asked, pointing to a door in the back-left corner.
“Jah.”
“Is it in working order?”
“I’m sorry to tell ya that I haven’t had the nerve to check for some time.”
He slowly turned his head to stare at her. “Truly? But she’s been gone a couple of months now, right?”
“Three months.” She knew he was shocked, and if she hadn’t lived in this situation, she probably would’ve been shocked, too. But lately she’d been all about self-preservation, and inspecting and cleaning her mother’s bathroom had seemed too big a task and far too painful to contemplate. If she entered, she would be forced to acknowledge that her mother’s problems had reached new heights—and she’d never gotten her help. “You are welcome to look, if you’d like.”
“I’d better.” Looking as if he were entering a crowded classroom or a noisy chicken coop, Harley took a deep breath and stepped forward.
Katie didn’t follow. There wasn’t much room, and she wasn’t eager to see the mess her mother had left behind or the expression on Harley’s face when he realized that she’d let it simply stay that way.
Instead, she leaned against the doorframe and watched him pick his way around stacks of newspapers, piles of bits and pieces of broken toys and plates and plastic containers. All the many things Mamm had collected and sorted, rescued from the trash, or found on the streets. Useless items that she’d bought or, in some cases, filched from the crowded aisles of the dollar store.
At last he got to the bathroom door. He turned to her, then stopped. “You don’t want to come in as well?”
“Nee.”
After treating her to an annoyed look, Harley entered the bathroom, then exited almost as quickly as he had June’s room.
“Well?” she asked as she watched him carefully make his way back to the hallway. “Is it usable?”
“I don’t know. Your mother used both the shower and bathtub as storage facilities. And then there were . . . there were a lot of papers and such piled high.”
There was no reason to comment on that. Instead, she walked to the last door that was closed. “This is my room.”
He opened the door and stepped inside. She followed, but was no less eager to see his expression. Because her room was almost bare. She reckoned it looked like something in a prison cell, not that she’d ever seen one, but she’d read about them once.
She had a twin bed with two blankets, a wall of pegs with three dresses hanging from them, and a small chest of drawers holding her tights, undergarments, and nightgowns. There was a plain metal table with a flashlight and a candle on it. And her glasses. That was all. It was plain and serviceable. It also was the only room in the house where she didn’t feel that she had to fight for oxygen.
He turned back to her. “You sleep here?”
“Obviously.”
“Of course.” Walking back out, he pointed to the last room. “Is that the bathroom?”
“Jah.” She walked to the pink-tiled bath. It was sparkling clean with a big tub that was also the shower, one small sink, a toilet, and a little table that held towels and soap.
“Pink.”
“We might want to change that.”
He smiled. “Maybe so, or maybe not. It’s pretty.”
Momentarily relieved by the break in the tension, she said,
“You’ve got one more floor to see.”
Looking at the stairs like they were going to lead him up to an uncertain future, he murmured, “What does the attic look like?”
“It’s not as bad as the rest of the house. There are two bedrooms up there and a small water closet.”
“I better go look. I’ll be right back.”
With some embarrassment, she realized that he was now trying to spare her. Didn’t want to make her see more of this run-down place through his eyes.
What was worse was that she was letting him.
When he appeared again, she started walking down the stairs to the main floor. Harley walked behind her, each step slow and sure.
Katie walked him back to the kitchen. “I made a pound cake last night. Would you like a slice?”
“Danke, but nee. I’m gut.”
“All right. Harley, if you’ve changed your mind, all you have to do is tell me. I would understand.” Of course, she’d be devastated and embarrassed, but she would understand.
“I haven’t. But, well, Katie, we are going to have to clear this place out before I can do anything. You’re going to need at least one more bathroom on the second floor and the one upstairs expanded. But I canna bring in plumbers until . . .”
She didn’t blame him for hesitating. “Until a plumber can work without being afraid he’s going to either run into a wall of boxes or get bitten by a stray varmint.”
Looking even more sympathetic, he sighed. “Jah. But don’t worry, Katie. We’ll find a way to get through this.”
We? Did that mean he was still going to take the job? “I know I should’ve already gotten to work clearing the rooms. I don’t know why I haven’t.”
“I do. Some of these spaces are going to take days to sort.”
“I know. But most of it just needs to be thrown out. I can do that.” She started walking to the front door. “How about this? I’ll call you when I have it cleaned out.”
“Katie, nee.”
Nee? Ah. Harley had changed his mind after all.
Feeling like she’d torn herself open and he’d seen the ugly, Katie walked faster. Harley was never going to forget what he’d seen. It was going to be imprinted on his brain.
Always there. Always coloring the way he thought about her.
Loathing ate at her. Why in the world hadn’t she contacted a stranger to help her with this remodel? She wouldn’t have cared what he would have thought, and he probably wouldn’t have cared either, as long as she’d paid him enough.
“Katie, wait for me, wouldja?”
She ignored him. Didn’t stop until she threw open the front door and was standing on the front porch. There was space here. Cool, fresh air. She breathed it in deep.
“Hey. What’s going on?” His voice was impatient now.
She turned to him. Winced when she saw how annoyed he looked. After taking a deep breath of air, she forced herself to continue. “Harley, I’m sorry I asked you over. I should’ve known that this wasn’t something you wanted to do.”
His brows snapped together. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I told you I would take the job.”
She shook her head. “But you changed your mind, jah?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “I did not.”
“Nee, you said nee when I said I’d contact you when the house was empty.”
“Of course I said no. I wasn’t going to let you do that alone.” Studying her closer, a new understanding crossed his features. “Hey. Wait a minute. You didn’t think I was going to back out just now, did ya?”
“I guess I did.” Though it would’ve hurt, she wouldn’t have blamed him, either.
He looked affronted. “What kind of person do you think I am?”
A loyal one. A good man. Someone stronger. Embarrassed now, she muttered, “You know what I think of you, Harley.”
“Well, I thought I did. Now? I ain’t so sure.” He looked down at his polished boots before meeting her gaze again. “Honestly, Katie, sometimes, I just don’t know what to think. I mean, I’ve known you since we both lost our front teeth the same summer.” His voice was still liberally laced with impatience. “Now, what I was trying to say was that we need to get the rest of the Eight involved. Many hands and all that. I’ll put the word out and then we’ll get started on—”
“Nee.” The reply was so automatic, she was hardly aware the response had left her mouth.
“Why not?”
“I don’t want them to see.”
His voice gentled. “They’re our best friends in the world. Are you really worried about what they will think?”
“Of course. Please, Harley. I don’t want everyone else to see the haus like this.” She didn’t want her best friends in the world to see how she’d been living.
“You really mean that, don’t you?”
“Please. Let’s try to do this first without their help. You know, just the two of us.”
He stared at her. Closed his striking green eyes. “I’m sorry, but we’re going to need help. You’re so small. We need to move furniture. All those books . . .” After a pause, he said, “What about my brother Kyle?”
“Your younger brother?”
“He’s eighteen. Strong as an ox.” When she still hesitated, he added, “Katie, we have to get more help. You and I can’t do this alone. You’re going to have to accept that. Now, do you want to run a bed-and-breakfast or not?”
He had a point. She was going to have to swallow her pride. “All right. Fine. Ask him if he’d help me. But . . . ask if he could keep my mother’s sickness a secret.”
Harley’s expression tightened again. “Get some rest, Katie. Kyle and I will be here tomorrow morning. Expect us at seven.”
“Danke. Thank you so much, Harley. I really appreciate you taking on this job.”
“You don’t need to say that. Of course—”
Realizing that she’d forgotten the most important thing, she grabbed his arm. “Oh, hold on and I’ll get you some money.”
The muscles under her fingers contracted. “You don’t need to pay me yet.”
She dropped her hand. “Of course I do. I mean, it’s a down payment, jah?” Didn’t he have to go buy wood and such?
“Katie Steury, I swear you would try the patience of a saint. Keep your money and I’ll see you in the morning.”
Feeling like she’d just lost a battle she hadn’t even known she was fighting, Katie stood like a fool and watched him walk away, never once looking back at her.
When he was out of sight, she sat down on the front porch and tried to concentrate on her dreams instead of on all the feelings churning inside of her.
She almost succeeded.
FOUR
Harley rolled his eyes. “Anyway, there we were, crossing through Mr. Schlabach’s farm, just as bold as you please, when his herd of goats found us.”
Harley knew he could have handled things better. No, he could have handled it all—the house, the job, the clutter, his reaction, and Katie—much better. Especially Katie.
Jah, he could have used a bit more patience and a whole lot more finesse.
Instead, he’d acted like a dolt and had inadvertently made one of his best friends feel even more uneasy about her own home.
He was ashamed of himself.
Walking home, he attempted to ignore the wind that had picked up and seemed set on seeping through his clothes and chilling his skin. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and picked up the pace.
In spite of himself, he smoothed his expression, adopting his father’s blank stare. The last thing he would ever want was for his father to see him acting chilled from a little bit of wind. Daed would see that as a sign of weakness and gruffly talk to him about being tougher.
As the oldest of five children, three of which were boys, Harley had had more than his fair share of lectures and warnings about being responsible and tough. He’d been brought up with high expectations and little positive reinforcement. Nei
ther of his parents had ever believed in giving praise for things one was expected to do.
When his family’s farm came into view, he breathed a sigh of relief. His father wasn’t in the fields, which meant he wouldn’t be expected to go out to the fields either.
Fifteen minutes later, he was washing his hands in the stationary tub in the mud room and removing his boots.
“Harley, is that you?” his youngest sister, Betty, called out from the kitchen.
“Jah,” he said as he entered the kitchen and sniffed appreciatively. “You’re making soup?”
Betty, all green eyes, dark brown hair, and confidence smiled at him fondly. “Italian meatball. Are you ready for a bowl? I made some breadsticks, too.”
“I am ready. Danke.”
As he moved to grab a bowl from one of the shelves that lined the far wall, she shooed him away. “Sit down. I’ve got this.”
Knowing she had as many rules drilled into her as he had, he didn’t argue. “Where is everyone?” It was only noon. Usually several of his family members would be having dinner right about now.
“Well, let’s see. Mamm and Jimmy went to visit Sarah and her mother.”
His twenty-two-year-old brother had just become engaged to his longtime girlfriend. Unfortunately, less than a month after they’d announced their engagement, Sarah’s mother had been diagnosed with breast cancer. That meant the engagement and wedding were up in the air.
“Any news?”
“I guess we’ll find out when Jimmy gets back,” Betty said as she set a bowl in front of him, then returned with a plate of breadsticks and a dish of freshly grated cheese.
“This looks wunderbaar.”
“Danke. Now eat,” she said while she poured him a glass of water.
Harley bowed his head and gave thanks for the meal and for his sister’s way in the kitchen. Everyone said she could work in a restaurant if she chose to. She was that good.
After taking that first sip of his soup, he grinned. “You could sell this soup, it’s so tasty.”
She laughed. “I’d like to see Daed’s expression about that.”
The Loyal One Page 3