Was she as embarrassed and ashamed as he was? Was she all right? Her face was almost as white as the snow layered on the branch of the tree above her head.
“Are you ready for this yet?”
Reluctantly, Ben turned to see Lydia holding up the bucket she carried. His gaze dropped to the recently bored hole. The one that held no hook or spile. The one obviously not ready for a pail. The only thing obviously ready was this woman for his attention. Lifting his eyes again to Lydia, he saw her gaze shift from his face to somewhere over his shoulder. In the direction where Rachel stood.
“I wonder what Rachel is going to do now that Aaron left. I mean, everyone knew they were going to get married. The Masts’ garden was full of celery this summer, planning for a wedding. I heard she even had her blue dress made. If I were her, I’d feel rejected. No wonder she was crying her eyes out that day.”
Ben carefully set the spile, with the hook behind it, at the edge of the new hole, his teeth gritted. Rigidly controlling his actions, he gently tapped it in. The one he wanted to reject was Lydia. But it wasn’t her fault. She’d just stated the obvious. He knew the pain Rachel had felt. Was surely still feeling. Pain he wanted to take away. His stomach soured at the knowledge that he’d made it worse by his actions in trying to do so.
“Ready for the pail.”
After Lydia hooked the bucket under the spile, Ben attached the lid that would keep precipitation or other debris out of the pail. A quick glance over his shoulder showed Rachel was still looking in his direction. Inhaling deeply, Benjamin warmed up his smile and turned to try it on Lydia.
He injected fabricated enthusiasm into his voice. “Looks like we’ll need some more buckets. And I could certainly use a cup of the hot chocolate if they still have it.”
The red-haired young woman’s immediate return smile dipped to a frown when she saw the congregation surrounding the sled and the thermoses brought along for the outing. “Be right back.”
“Take your time,” Ben called as she tromped through the snow to join the growing line. After another considering look at Rachel, he started walking through the trees, away from the crowd, and at an angle that would converge with her. Should she decide to take a stroll. A sideways glance revealed she had. Ben’s heart rate accelerated. It was a struggle to prevent his pace from doing so, as well.
Their paths intersected about thirty yards deeper into the trees. Here, oaks interspersed with the maples, creating a denser wood, and therefore a less attractive destination to any potential tappers. The snow was shallower. Ten pristine feet of it separated him from Rachel when they both slowed to a stop.
It was the closest he’d been to her in almost two months. This girl, who unknowingly had been his secret childhood longing until she became his brother’s girlfriend. Their relationship, although stilted, had remained cordial. It’d had to. She was going to be his sister-in-law. Even though it tormented Ben to see her with his brother. And now they were...awkward. Uncomfortable. Embarrassed. Ach, had they sabotaged their friendship beyond any salvaging?
Frowning, Ben silently regarded Rachel. Framed by her pale face, her brown eyes, normally so lively, seemed bigger and darker above hollow-appearing cheeks. Her arms were crossed over her torso. If she hugged herself any tighter, she’d turn inside out.
“Are you cold?” Ben crossed his own arms to keep from reaching out to comfort her. If she were looking for something like that, she wouldn’t have stopped ten feet away. Not that he would offer it again. Succumbing to the urge to give comfort had gotten them to this unhappy place.
Rachel slid her arms down to her sides. “Nee.”
They stared at each other across the snow for a few more moments.
Ach, it’d been quite a long wait for those few important words. Ben grimaced and shifted his weight. There was so much he wanted to say to her. But where to start? Perhaps with the obvious, but not the one particular obvious he wanted to ask—are you all right after what we did? Perhaps he could leave it at are you all right? But even that currently sounded too personal.
He settled for something that was surely on both their minds, “Have you heard from—” stopping when he heard her ask the same question.
Her nee was a softer echo of her previous one. He shook his head at her hopeful gaze.
Refolding her arms across her chest, Rachel looked down to where she was making semicircles with one foot in the snow in front of her. “Benjamin...”
Ben crept a few steps closer in order to hear, her voice had dropped so low.
“About that day...”
He flushed with embarrassment. What about that day? Could they get past their shame and bear to be in the same room with each other once more? Had she decided she never wanted to see him again? That seemed more consistent with her actions the past several weeks. Ben braced himself for her next words. Whatever they might be, he would abide by them out of respect for her. He could see from Rachel’s expression that the unspoken words were difficult to share.
Previously perspiring, now a chill prompted him to flip up the collar of his coat. Still, Rachel’s words were nothing like he’d expected.
“I’m going to have a boppeli.”
Copyright © 2021 by Jocelyn Ord
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ISBN-13: 9780369715029
An Amish Mother for His Twins
Copyright © 2021 by Patricia MacDonald
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
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An Amish Mother for His Twins Page 19