She noticed he still didn’t spare the trees a look.
Once inside, she was besieged by the musky smell of a house largely unused. Though everything was fairly clean—the furniture looked recently dusted and the floor was swept—it felt completely empty.
Empty in a way that had nothing to do with lack of furniture and children’s coats and Toby toys and her mother’s baking or her siblings’ noise.
It was empty from lack of use.
Judith hadn’t failed to notice that he left the door open and seemed oddly reluctant to even step much farther into the home.
“This isn’t a happy place for you, is it? ”
Ben started. Then, with a look of resignation, he shook his head. “As I told you before, my muddah left when I was thirteen. When she left, everything changed.” He paused, then added, “Not that things were any good before.”
The cold air wafting through the open door was making her chilled. Instead of closing the door, she moved toward the kitchen. Again, the room was spotless but extremely empty. Running a finger along the beige laminate, she turned to him. “Did your mamm ever say why she left? Did your daed ever talk to you about his feelings?”
His laugh was bitter. “Judith, my father was not one for letting us in. And as for my mamm, well I never heard from her again.”
She couldn’t imagine either of her parents acting so harsh. She couldn’t imagine leaving her children, either. “She didn’t contact you? She didn’t write you letters and try to explain? Ever?”
“That’s what I just said.”
“What did your daed say?”
“He never spoke of it.” He rolled his eyes. “Just one day she was gone.”
She felt his despair like a tangible thing and wished she could do something to make his past easier to bear. It made her want to cry. “What did you do?”
The cloudy look that had filled his expression vanished as a new sardonic one took over. “What do think I did? I went to school the next day.”
“And your sister? What did she do?” she asked, hoping for Ben to relieve her imagination. All she could think about at the moment was a too-young Ben being alone with no one to confide in.
“Beth is three years older. At first she stayed and helped with the house—Daed didn’t give her much choice. But when she turned eighteen, she moved to my aunt’s and eventually married an Englischer.”
“Do you keep in touch with her? Do you see her often?”
But instead of answering he took off his hat and ran one hand through his hair. “Why all the questions, Judith? Why do you even care?”
It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him she didn’t know. But she did.
And she acknowledged to herself that if he was brave enough to show her this very sad, empty house. If he was brave enough to share with her the pain of his mother’s abandonment, then it was time for her to be honest.
“I’m asking because I care about you.”
“What?”
“You heard me.” She stepped closer to him. As she did so, Judith noticed the muscles tense under the cotton of his shirt. Almost like he was shielding himself from his reaction to her.
“I heard you but I don’t understand you.”
Her heart aching for all he’d lost, and for all he didn’t believe he was worth, made her finally reveal what was in her heart. Even if they weren’t destined to share a future, she wanted him to know that there was someone in his life who cared. “I think you do. I care about you. I like you and I want to know you better.”
Ben blinked. “Why are you telling me this? Is it pity?”
“No.”
“Why then?”
His voice was harsh, his expression shuttered. But while his voice, when it was like that, used to make her fearful, now she knew better. In his own way, Ben Knox was as scared as she was.
“Because I think you should know how I feel,” she finally said. Realizing that deep in her heart, she wanted Ben to know that he was not alone. That even if nothing became of them, if there never was a romance, at the very least they now had a bond. “I didn’t want you to leave Sugarcreek without knowing how I felt.”
For a few seconds, his gaze softened. His eyes caressed her, like he wanted to memorize everything about this moment.
This wonderful, terrible, very, very sweet moment. “Even if I know.” He cleared his throat. “Even if I felt that way, too . . . There’s nothing we can do about it.”
Even if he felt the same way. It took everything she had not to smile. “That’s all right.”
“It’s all right? How can you say—” He cut himself off, obviously tongue-tied.
She smiled. “I’m not expectin’ a marriage proposal.” Though it pained her, she tried to smile. “I know you have plans. I don’t want to mess them up.”
Oh, right. His big plans. He had plans, Ben thought bitterly to himself. Great plans. After Christmas, he was going to leave his house on the market and travel. Get on a bus, then a train, and go somewhere.
Get as far away from his memories as he possibly could.
“My things are in my bedroom. I’ll be back.”
A flash of pain registered in her eyes. And in response, Ben knew he’d upset her. He didn’t understand the female mind all that well; most of the women he’d known hadn’t thought enough of him to stick around. But even he knew he’d hurt her.
But what could he say?
He wasn’t worth much.
He especially wasn’t worth enough for Judith Graber to care about.
Keeping his back to her, he walked to his room and pulled out an extra set of clothes, his hairbrush and toothbrush. And then he pulled out the two Christmas gifts he’d bought for Maggie and Judith.
As he stared at the presents, wrapped up in bright foil-covered wrapping paper, he realized that no good would come from spending more time together. Especially not at her house. He liked her family too much, liked the sense of belonging too much. Because things between them were so tense . . . so raw . . . he had the feeling if he let down his guard even for a moment, he was going to start laying out his whole heart to her.
He’d do something stupid and tell her he loved her. Then, he’d begin to make plans. Before he knew it, it was likely he’d be talking about futures and marriage and children.
All things he didn’t know a thing about.
And knowing him and his track record, he’d probably end up hurting her something awful. The way his parents had hurt each other.
Yes, it was far better to push her away now. For her own good.
Holding the packages, he left the duffle on his bed and returned to her with only the presents grasped in his hands instead.
When she saw his hands, a line formed between her brows. “Where’s your bag?”
“It’s in my room. You know, I was thinking that there’s really no reason for me to come to your house. I’m going to stay here.”
“You can’t do that.”
“Sure I can.” He pushed the presents at her. Making sure to keep his voice level and even, he said, “Give the big one to Maggie, will you?”
She took them but looked troubled. “You need to give the gift to her yourself. You know how much Maggie likes you.”
“I like her, too. But she’ll understand why I can’t be there.”
“How could she? I don’t.”
“Judith, Christmas is a time for family.”
“I know! That is why—”
Before she said something she’d regret, he said the obvious. “So I shouldn’t be with yours. I’m not a Graber.”
“That doesn’t matter.”
“It does to me. It would be awkward, being there.”
“It won’t. My parents invited you because they want you there.”
Ignoring her protest, he continued. “I’d only be pretendin’ that I belong when I don’t. It will be better to be here.”
“Here? Alone?”
She sounded so appalled, he almost smiled. �
��There’s nothing wrong with that. Christmas is just a day.”
“It’s more than that.”
Remembering all the days when he’d hoped it would mean more, he shook his head. “It doesn’t have to be. Judith, I don’t belong at your house tomorrow. It will be awkward.”
“But . . . you don’t have any other—”
Place to go, he finished silently. He stopped her before they could both hear the awful truth. “I know. But I’m okay with that.” With effort, he tried to bring back his old harsh way of speaking. “Judith, the truth is that being around all of your family, it would make me really uncomfortable.”
“We wouldn’t . . .”
He interrupted her. “Sure you would. I’ve been on my own for a really long time now. I don’t mind being alone. Please tell your parents thank you for me but I’ll pass.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said what I did.”
“You shouldn’t have told me that you care about me?” Ben grinned, just as if he could have cared less about her feelings. Or his, for that matter. “I care about you, too, jah? We’ve become friends, right?”
“Right.” After a pause, she lifted the other present. “Who is this one for?”
“You.”
She bit her lip. “Ben, please come with me.”
“I’d rather not.”
“May I open the present now?”
“No.”
Seeing the hurt that flashed in her eyes, he gentled his tone. “I mean, it would be better to wait. It’s not Christmas yet.” To save them both a lot more embarrassment, he walked to the door.
Of course it was still open. He hated closing it. Had hated for her to be stuck inside this empty house filled with terrible memories even more. “Please go.”
She stepped forward. Doubt and worry obvious in every step. “Ben—”
Before he could stop himself, he placed two fingers on her lips. “Please, Judith, don’t say another word,” he said softly.
When she stared back at him with wide eyes, he dropped his hand. “I promise you, it really is better this way. For both you and me. If I went to your house tonight, if I was there with everyone tomorrow, it would be too hard. Too painful. I’d rather not go at all.”
For the first time in their acquaintance, Judith listened to him. She nodded, then turned around and walked to the buggy.
Ben stood away from the doorway so she wouldn’t know he was watching. But he couldn’t stop himself from watching her carefully open the door to the buggy, place the presents on the seat beside her, then click Beauty’s reins.
Mere seconds later, she was gone.
“Merry Christmas,” he said out of the open doorway.
Then he closed himself inside, shutting out the opportunity to actually be happy.
He felt as if the consequences of his actions were burning him deep. And he felt more of a failure than ever before. Though he’d grown up and had learned to control his anger and foster patience, he was still in many ways just a coward. It was still easier for him to be alone than to risk getting his feelings hurt. It was easier to shut himself off instead of waiting to have someone else shut him off first.
As he walked into the kitchen and spied the stack of library books on the counter, for once, they didn’t bring him joy. All they did was remind him that it was far easier for him to read about other peoples’ lives than to live fully and fearlessly.
Though he thought he’d changed a lot, it was becoming terribly apparent that he hadn’t really changed at all.
Chapter Seventeen
Christmas Eve
“Caleb, what are you doing here?” Rebecca said from the other side of her half-open front door.
“First of all, I brought you some wood.” He smiled at the pile he’d just stacked neatly to the right of her porch.
“And secondly?”
Unable to help himself, he grinned even bigger. “Secondly, you know I had no choice. I couldn’t stay away.”
But instead of her looking pleased with his pronouncement, she looked even more pained.
“Becca, please let me in. It’s freezing cold out here.”
After a long hesitation, she opened the door and stepped to one side.
“Rebecca?” her mother called out from a back room.
“It’s nothing, Mamm. Caleb is here. Again.” Narrowing her eyes at him, she added, “He won’t be staying long.”
Mildly irritated by her words—but even more depressed about the way she was pushing him away—Caleb marched into her living room and sat down.
She followed at a far slower pace. “What do you think you are doing?”
“Making myself at home. Come sit down, Becca,” he said before she could dart away. He patted the space on the couch beside him.
She sat across the room from him on an uncomfortable-looking wooden stool. Perched there, she looked like she wanted to leave his company as soon as she could.
Which made him even more depressed.
“Are you afraid of me now?” he asked.
“Of course not.”
Worry filled him as he tried to figure out the problem. “Then why are you acting so skittish? Do you not trust me?”
“I trust you.”
“Then what is it?” he pressed. “Why are you acting so distant? I can’t read your mind, you know.”
“Caleb, what do you want me to say? I’m embarrassed.” As she paused, her gaze darted beyond him. Like she was hoping for guidance from a higher power.
When she met his gaze again, her expression was sharper, his voice far more bitter. “But you surely know that, right? I never wanted you to know where I lived.”
“I don’t care, Becca. I promise you, I don’t. Besides, there’s nothing wrong with this place.”
Red stained her cheeks as her expression finally softened.
“I think there is. I think there’s everything wrong with this place. I wish we were back at our old house. But it wasn’t possible when my daed got laid off.”
“All that matters is that you’re safe and happy. That’s all I care about, Rebecca.”
“I realize that. But still . . . I didn’t want you to know the truth about my life. Or the truth about what I was doing.” She swallowed again, the muscles in her throat working as she tried to catch her breath. Then she added, “Please answer me honestly. Do ya think I’m terrible for giving myself a Christmas basket?”
“No.” He meant it, too. He wanted to give her whatever he could to make her happier. He hated the idea of her going without.
Hesitantly, she said, “Caleb, you should know something. I came up with the Christmas basket idea for selfish reasons. I started realizing that there was nothing left over after my parents paid the rent on our place. My mamm told me and Mandy that things would be hard this Christmas. Everyone looked so sad.”
After darting a look behind her, she left the rickety stool and moved to the space next to him on the couch. “I didn’t want my mother to feel bad about our situation. I didn’t start out meaning to be selfish and only think about myself. I promise you, I wasn’t.”
He didn’t think Rebecca could be selfish if she tried. “I think what you created was amazing.” Unable to help himself, he traced the path of a tear on her cheek. “No matter what the reasons, you helped a lot of families with these baskets, Rebecca. You should feel proud of yourself. I’m proud of you.”
But instead of looking reassured and calmed by his praise, she rolled her eyes. “You shouldn’t feel proud. I’m sure God is disappointed in me.”
“Never.”
Lowering her voice, she said, “There was a tiny part of me that was excited about the contents of the baskets. I wanted to eat Mrs. Miller’s bread. I wanted to have some fresh food instead of another night of leftovers. A better person would have only been thinking of others.”
“Perhaps not.”
“Truly?”
Doubt and a small seed of hope lit her eyes, making Caleb’s heart melt all o
ver again. The closer they became, the more his feelings for her grew. He loved how she thought of others and was a tiny bit shy. He loved how she was strong enough to do something to help her family, but so self-effacing that she didn’t seek recognition. “Rebecca, you have to know . . . if you and your family had let others know of your difficult times, everyone in the community would have given you things without you asking. People like to reach out to others. People like to give.”
She shrugged. “Maybe.”
“Come now. You were as happy as I was when we gave away the other baskets.”
“You’re right. I was happy . . . But that’s different. It’s far easier to give than to receive.”
“Sometimes I think it’s pride that prevents us all from asking our friends and loved ones for help. Maybe refusing the help and kindness of others is a selfish act, too.”
“You sound as if you know something about all this.”
“I do. When I was struggling with whether or not I should join the church, I had to let down my pride enough to let other people help me. That takes courage. But only then did I find myself.”
“Maybe that’s what I’m going through?”
“I think so.”
Caleb wasn’t sure how good he was at all this, but he knew without a doubt that it was time to let his pride fall and take a chance. It was time to let her know the true extent of his feelings, even if he shocked her and embarrassed them both. Taking a deep breath, he reached for her closest hand and dove in. “Rebecca, I love you.”
Just like that, her eyes widened and her mouth went slack.
Obviously he was no Romeo. Feeling dumb, he began talking quickly. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you that eventually I want to court you and marry you.”
Tears filled her eyes, but he wasn’t sure if they were happy ones or sad.
He swallowed, feeling like he was falling backward into a terribly big hole. “There’s nothing you could do that would make me think badly of you. Or be disappointed in you. Certainly not you doing something so special as making beautiful baskets for people in need.” Then, because she was staring at him in wonder, he said the words again. Thinking that maybe with practice, they would be easy to say out loud. “If anything, Rebecca, I love you more for what you’ve been doing.”
Christmas in Sugarcreek Page 12