“Jah. Sure.” After accepting a glass of iced tea, John sighed. “I guess I’ve been acting a little out of sorts, hmm?”
“Just a little.” Or a lot.
“Well, um, besides the fact that you didn’t ask me to help ya, my mood has to do with Molly.”
“Because Danny acted like he was a special friend of hers?”
He nodded. “You know I’m protective of my little sister. Her being in that wheelchair makes her a target at times. Especially from kids her age.”
“Even Amish kids who she’d gone to school with?” That surprised her. Marie didn’t know her well, but she’d certainly seen Molly from time to time over the years, and John’s little sister had always been a pretty, sweet girl.
Then there was the fact that Molly most likely always had at least one of her siblings in school with her. She couldn’t even imagine Ezra, who was two years younger than Molly, putting up with anyone being mean to her.
“As much as it pains me to say it, even Amish kinner aren’t perfect all the time.”
The familiar light was back in his eyes. Reaching out, she curved a palm around his shoulder. “Ah. There you are again.”
He smiled at her before it faded yet again. “Um, Marie, if I’m confessing things, I guess I should tell you something else.”
“Okay . . .”
“I wasn’t happy about Danny speaking with ya alone.”
It took her a second to get the gist of what he meant. “John, he’s just a kid.”
“Not a kid. He’s seventeen.”
“He is still just a boy, John.”
“He was also staring.” When she started chuckling, he said, “Hush, now. You have to know what you look like in your . . .” He waved a hand. “Outfit.”
“My suit?”
“It ain’t just that. You’ve got heels on and your skirt don’t even reach your knees.” A line formed in between his brows. “Your legs . . .” His voice drifted off.
She looked down. Her skirt was slim fitting. It skimmed the tops of her knees. She knew it was flattering, but it was a far cry from risqué.
With anyone else, she would’ve burst out laughing. Maybe even pointed out how silly he was being just before she mentioned that her calves were certainly nothing for a teenaged boy to get all excited about.
But she couldn’t do that to him. He looked so earnest, as if each word was being pulled out of somewhere deep inside of him, and not by choice either.
“John, as attractive as you are making me sound, I have to tell you that I don’t think Danny noticed my outfit.” Just to tease him, she winked. “Or my legs.”
But John didn’t crack a smile. “Marie, he noticed. I watched him noticing plenty when I walked up.”
“Care to tell me why you are acting jealous of a teenager I hired to do yard work?”
“I ain’t jealous.”
“Are you sure about that?”
His cheeks turned red. “I might be feeling some gneid.”
He actually was feeling jealous? Now they were getting somewhere! Well, they would be, if everything he was doing and saying didn’t sound like such a surprise. “You know what? Instead of getting annoyed, I’m going to take it as a compliment.”
His worried expression deepened. “Marie, I don’t know how to tell you this, but I . . . well, the truth is that I’ve had feelings for you for some time.”
“You have?”
He nodded. “Jah. Years, now.”
Years. He’d had feelings for her for years. “Oh,” she murmured, because even though everything inside her was screaming with glee, her lips didn’t seem able to form a coherent word.
After a pause, John spoke again. “At first I assumed it was because of your looks. You are shay, you know.”
She knew shay meant pretty. “But it’s not just my looks that you are fond of?”
He shook his head. “It’s a lot of things about you. The spark in your eyes. The way that you got yourself a good job and a promotion, too. The way that you’ve been so loyal to all of us. The way you are always the first to send people birthday cards or to reach out when we’re having a difficult time.”
Everything he said was beautiful and sweet. Words that she would no doubt play over and over in her head when she was calming down after another bad dream.
“John, thank you for all the sweet words. And . . . well, you know I care about you, too.”
Relief filled his eyes. “That’s good, don’t you think?”
She nodded. It really was. She and John were finally moving forward, finally acting on the pull that had existed between them for years. Even though they still had to figure out what to do about the differences in their lifestyles, she knew she should be ecstatic.
Unfortunately, she still didn’t quite feel like herself.
“Marie, talk to me. What did I say?”
She hesitated, then said, “I think I’m still having a hard time dealing with Andy’s death. I’m sorry. I guess every time I think about having a future, I remember that Andy isn’t going to have the future that he hoped for.” She pressed a palm to her cheek. “Sorry. Way to ruin the mood, huh?”
Pain laced with sweet concern that entered his expression as he reached for her hands. “Oh, Marie.”
She liked how her hands felt in his. How his rough, warm palms made her feel secure and taken care of. Feeling like she could share even more, she murmured, “I wish I would have been a better friend to him. He needed me to be better. I should have called him more.”
He gently squeezed her hands. “At first, I didn’t think any of us did enough for Andy, but now I sometimes wonder if there was anything that we could have done.”
“Even if there wasn’t, I still think I could’ve tried harder. To make sure he knew he had friends who cared.”
“He knew.”
“Do you really think so?”
“The eight of us haven’t just been good friends. We’ve been best friends for most of our lives.” Releasing her hands, he pressed one palm flat on his chest. “I know it in my heart. Don’t you?”
“But back when I was working in Cleveland, it wasn’t the same. Distance matters.”
“Not that much.”
“I disagree. John, I never called any of you when I was feeling sad or lonely.”
He looked stunned. “You should have. If you had called and said you needed something, I, or um, we would have been there for you.”
“Calling all of you would’ve made me feel weak.” Though it was hard to admit, she continued. “We can tell each other that we care about each other and will be there for each other no matter what, but it might not be the truth.”
His expression darkened. “It is true.”
“John, even if you love someone, that doesn’t mean you trust that person with all your secrets.” When he opened his mouth to protest, she stepped closer. Close enough to smell the soap he’d used when he’d showered before coming to see her.
Close enough to feel the heat emanating from him, to hear the difference in his breathing.
Close enough that hardly any space existed between them. “And don’t say you don’t, John Byler,” she whispered as she looked up at him. “Because you just admitted that you’ve kept a secret or two from me.”
He gazed down at her. His heated look skittered over her face before settling on her lips.
She licked her bottom lip. His eyes flared.
She was ready. Ready for him to bend down a little farther. Ready to finally do what they’d been teasing each other about for years. Ready to lift her hands, fold them around his neck, to lean close. To kiss him at last.
“Marie.” He groaned, just before he dropped her hands and jerked back, as if he’d been stung. “We can’t do this.”
“Why not?”
“Because it ain’t right. We haven’t even talked about our relationship.”
“I thought we just did.”
“Not enough. And actually, all that really happened wa
s that I admitted I’ve been besotted with you forever. I have no idea how you feel about me. I need to know.”
Marie didn’t know what was going to happen between them. She didn’t even know what could happen in their future.
But she knew enough about how she felt to tell him the truth. “Not only have I always known my best friends were the Eight, but I also knew that there was only one of you who claimed my heart. And that was you, John B. I’ve loved you forever, too.”
“Marie.” His voice was strained.
Panic set in. Was he surprised? Disappointed? Had she just really messed things up between the two of them? “Don’t start telling me that I don’t—”
But she couldn’t have been more wrong about his reaction. Because in two seconds flat, John pressed two work-roughened palms against her cheeks and kissed her.
His touch, his kiss, it was so intense, so perfect, so everything . . . well, all Marie could do was close her eyes, and wholeheartedly kiss him right back.
NINE
“Even though we were fourteen and thought we knew so much, we were really just kids. Sweet kids who were all half-afraid to see what was inside that knotted pillowcase. Just as someone suggested we draw straws to see who was going to have to do the deed, Andy announced that he would.”
Katie shook her head. “Patience never was Andy’s best quality.”
Her scent was on his clothes. Taking advantage of being alone while he walked home through the alfalfa fields, John lifted his forearm to his face. Breathed in deep like a teenaged girl.
And yes, smelled Marie’s perfume on his skin, too.
He had no experience with such flowery scents, but he was fairly certain that no flower in his grandmother’s garden smelled like that. No, this scent was purely feminine, expensive, almost tangible. All Marie.
For years, it had haunted him whenever she’d been near, when they were in the same room together, and it would make him turn, looking for her. Or lingering in the room long after she was gone, making him long for things that could never be.
But those faint hints had been nothing compared to its strength when he’d held her in his arms just now. For a moment, he’d simply wanted to hold her close and appreciate the feel of her in his arms and savor the moment.
Of course, he’d gone one step further and kissed her. He shouldn’t have. He knew it. But did he regret it? He couldn’t say he did, even in the slightest.
When they’d broken apart, Marie had looked dazed. And, yes, thoroughly kissed.
Though he knew he probably shouldn’t, he’d felt a burst of pure masculine pride. He might not be able to do a great many things, but it seemed he could do one thing rather well, and that was putting a dreamy expression on Marie Hartman’s face.
But now his clothes were wearing the evidence of their embrace, and it was a very real possibility that more than one member of his family was going to notice. And it went without saying that if they noticed they weren’t going to keep it to themselves either.
Especially not James. He would probably point out the fact that John smelled like Marie. Which would cause quite the discussion and no less than a few pointed comments about how he had no business being so close to an Englischer girl who he had no intention of having a future with.
Except that wasn’t really true. If he was honest, John would admit that he most certainly did have intentions toward a future with her. The dream went beyond their pasts, their differences, and maybe even common sense. Where Marie was concerned, he never saw her in a category.
She was simply Marie.
His only hope was to go in through a side door, circle back toward the rear stairs, and quickly change his clothes before any of them saw him.
But all of his hopes were dashed when he reached the yard and saw the twins, Amanda and Anton, halfheartedly weeding the front flower beds. The moment they saw him, they got to their feet. It was obvious that they were pleased to have something else to do besides dig in the dirt.
“John, you’re back!” Amanda called out. “Come join us.”
“With your weeding? I think not.”
“We won’t make you weed,” Anton said. “I wanted to tell you about who I saw today at the market.”
Realizing there was no way he could get out of it, John approached. At least the scent of freshly dug dirt was in the air. Surely it would permeate any lingering scent wafting off his shirt.
“Who did you see?”
“Micah Troyer.” Anton waggled his eyebrows. “Do you remember him?”
John couldn’t resist grinning. “I remember he was the bane of your existence for years.”
“Well, he was . . . before he moved away,” Amanda added.
“Don’t make me wait. Has Micah come back?”
“I guess so,” Amanda replied. “But that ain’t the important news, John.” Smiling broadly, she continued. “Guess what? He jumped the fence.”
This news was startling enough to push all his worries about Marie’s perfume away.
Micah Troyer had been a strange stickler for rules when it came to being Amish. He had constantly tried to correct Anton during school, calling him out if he ever bent any rules of the Ordnung or even acted like he was entering his rumspringa early.
He’d actually tried to start this foolishness with John once, but John had put an end to that. He had five siblings and two sets of adults to answer to all the time. He’d had no intention of answering to a kid who was two years younger. Especially not when it came to defending decisions as personal as rumspringa.
“Wow. I didn’t see that coming,” John admitted.
“I didn’t either,” Anton said. “It took me off guard.”
“We didn’t even recognize him at first,” Amanda added, her voice filled with glee. “John, you should see his hair! He shaved it so close one would think he joined the army.”
That made him smile. Micah had always worn his hair long and slightly curved around his face, what he and his siblings had always derisively described as a cereal bowl haircut. It had been yet another example of the boy’s strange adherence to his perception of being “really Amish.”
“Was he any nicer?”
“Nee. But he did approach the two of us. Wearing jeans with holes in them and a T-shirt,” Anton replied.
“And a swagger that would have made Miss Annalee blush,” Amanda added, naming their former schoolteacher. Now thoroughly entertained, John knelt down next to them and pulled a weed. “Well, now you have me curious. What happened to make him jump the fence?” When both twins looked as if they were attempting not to laugh, he added, “Did he say?”
“Micah did eventually tell us,” Amanda murmured as she pulled a dandelion. “But that was after Anton asked him why he was dressed like an Englischer.”
Looking smug, Anton said, “He told me that he’d finally had enough of his parents overseeing every bit of his life.”
“What?”
Anton nodded. “Jah. It turns out as bad as Micah was, his parents were worse. He needed some freedom in a bad way.”
Amanda continued, tag-teaming the story the way they’d done their whole lives. “I guess Micah tried to talk to them about his need for space, but that did no good.”
“Yep. When they wouldn’t back off even a little bit he decided to take things into his own hands,” Anton added with a grin. “In a big way.”
John pulled another weed as he stared at the twins. “So bossy Micah Troyer gave up everything he had always said was so important to him because he was mad at his parents?”
Anton shrugged. “I guess so. It’s a puzzle, truly. Not a bit of it makes a lick of sense to me. Well, besides needing to get away from his parents. I wouldn’t have lasted as long as he did.”
“Me neither,” Amanda said. “Mrs. Troyer was always bossy and mean when she helped out at school.”
Starting to feel guilty about their gossiping, John shook his head in disbelief as he stood up. “I guess it just goes to show you th
at one never knows what will happen in one’s future. Anything is possible.”
Anton smiled in midnod. “Why, John. You certainly just said a mouthful.”
A prickle began to buzz along the back of John’s neck. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means that I never would have guessed you’d be spending so much time with Marie Hartman, but you are.”
Realizing the dirt wasn’t as pungent as he’d hoped, he took a step backward. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh?” Anton smirked. “I find that surprising, seeing as if I closed my eyes I would think she was standing in the garden with us.”
Amanda stood up and sniffed the air. “Oh, don’t worry about him none, John.”
Anton raised his eyebrows. “Really? You can’t smell Marie’s perfume?”
“Oh, I can smell it, all right. But I wouldn’t say I would imagine that she was here with us. More like that John had been with her.” Her lips twitched. “Standing mighty close to her, that is.”
Anton folded his arms across his chest. “Care to tell us a story of your own, broodah? Just how close have you been standing next to Marie?”
There was only one answer that needed to be given. Even though he’d heeded his grandfather’s words, he still hadn’t found the right opportunity to talk to his parents and tell them what he’d decided.
Which he was kind of horrified about.
“Nee. I need to go inside anyway.”
“What’s your hurry?”
John considered lying but because he couldn’t deny it any longer, he smirked. “I need to take a shower.”
Their laughter carried him into the house. Along the way, he passed Molly, which brought to mind yet another thing he had to do.
“Hiya, John,” she said from her room.
“Hey. Remind me to ask you something after supper.”
“All right.” A small line had formed in between her light blond brows, but she didn’t say anything more.
He hoped that this might be one rumor that wasn’t actually a hint of something far deeper.
TEN
“Andy pulled out four tiny gray and white kittens. They’d been left there to die, you see.”
The Patient One Page 6