A Heart Made New (23 page)

“Charisma’s not staying here.” Annie peeled Gracie’s arms from her neck and slid her into her car seat. She shushed the little girl’s whimpers as she buckled the straps. “It’s all right, little one, it’s all right. Mommy’s coming. Mommy’s right behind us.”

She backed out of the car and turned to make sure she was telling the truth. Charisma stumbled toward them, tears rolling down her cheeks. Annie looked up at David. “We’re not leaving her here, and we’re surely not leaving Gracie.”

David nodded. He strode toward Charisma. “Let me help you.” Charisma threw out her arms like a blind person fumbling in unfamiliar territory. David grabbed her elbow and guided her to the car. “Don’t worry. We’ve got you.”

D
avid thanked Michael for his chauffeuring services, ducked out of the car, and opened Charisma’s door first. The ride back to the Shiracks had been a quiet one, except for the woman’s occasional muffled sob and thunder overhead as a sudden late afternoon storm caught up with them. Rain, finally. They needed it so badly, but it was really too late to help with the wheat. Besides, by the time they pulled into the yard in front of the house, the rain had stopped. Charisma ignored the hand David held out and heaved herself from the car. He grabbed her elbow to keep her from falling.

“Thank you.” Her eyes were red, her skin blotchy and wet with tears. “Thank you for taking me up there. I know you have better things to do than drive around a screwup like me.”

“I’m sorry.” He cringed at the inadequacy of his own words. How many times had he heard them directed at himself? “I’m sorry things didn’t turn out better.”

“Why would you be sorry?” She tossed back her tangled ponytail. “It’s not like you had anything to do with it.”

Because he was sorry about everything. All the time. And he recognized the agonizing pain on her face. Her parents were lost to her, and he understood how that felt. “No, but I am sorry, nevertheless.”

“Thank you.” Fresh tears rolled down her face. “Y’all are so nice to me. I don’t know why. I’m nothing but trouble to you.”

“No trouble at all. That’s what friends are for.”

“You’re my friend.” She seemed baffled by the idea. “You and Annie.”

“Jah. All of us.”

“You’re too good to be friends with a person like me.”

Annie came around the car with Gracie on her hip. The two looked like mother and daughter. David slapped the thought away, like a persistent mosquito buzzing his head, threatening to bite and draw blood. He forced his gaze back to Charisma. “We’re just plain folks.”

“We’re just people like you, trying to be decent.” Annie hugged the little girl to her chest. “You have a place here as long as you need it.”

“I can’t ever make this up to you, but I’ll try not to make it harder. I promise I’ll be a better guest, Annie.”

Annie smiled that beautiful smile. “You’re fine.”

One hand on her stomach, Charisma turned and waddled toward the house, her sandals making a squelching sound in the wet grass. She clomped up the steps and disappeared through the door without looking back. David waited for Michael to drive away and the sound of the engine to die. The humid air hung wet and heavy around them. He forced himself to look at Annie. She didn’t look away and he found he couldn’t.

“How about you?” He cleared his throat. “Anything I can do to help you?”

She hugged Gracie closer. The little girl snuggled her head against Annie’s chest and sucked on her thumb, a look of bliss on her chubby face. “You could tell Leah that Charisma is going to be staying here a bit longer than I first thought,” she said, grinning in spite of herself.

“I’d rather be a fly on the wall for that conversation.” David managed a chuckle. “I imagine you’ll handle it fine.”

“What else can we do?” Annie smoothed Gracie’s T-shirt with thin, nimble fingers. The torment on her face made him want to catch hold of her hand and never let go. “She has nowhere to go and a baby is coming. We can’t kick her out of the house.”

“Luke won’t allow that to happen.”

Leah was another story. David had never understood Luke’s choice for matrimony, but then he didn’t understand affairs of the heart in general. His brother Timothy was Luke’s closest friend. His explanation had been that opposites attract. Maybe that’s how he knew that Sarah and Josiah would never work. They were two peas in a pod, unlike Josiah and Miriam. She would be his lightning rod, his balance beam. Sarah would push him over the edge. David sneaked a look at Annie. In their case, never truer words were spoken. She was beautiful, he wasn’t. She clung to her faith. In his anger and disappointment, he clutched at it and often as not, missed. Hope and optimism flowed from her. His stream had dried up.

“David?” She had a puzzled look on her face. “What is it? Please tell me.”

“I have to go.”

“Why? Timothy is taking care of the bakery today, and Jonathan has the chores at the farm covered. What’s wrong?” She swallowed. “Why do you keep pushing me away?”

He wanted the child in her arms to be his. The pain of that truth knocked him back a step. “I have to go.”

“It’s been a long afternoon. Come in for some lemonade or iced tea.” She scurried to keep up with his deliberately long strides. “Supper will be on the table soon, I’m sure. Join us.”

“I can’t.”

“Because we have to discuss Charisma’s future? You’re a part of this family. We welcome you at our dinner table, no matter what the discussion is.”

“I can’t.”

“Because you’re afraid.”

The last words were hurled at him with sudden vengeance. First Josiah accused him of being a coward, now this woman he loved. Yes, he could admit to himself how he felt. But she could never know or she’d never get on with her life.

“I’m not afraid, not for me.”

She trotted along next to him, matching his stride despite her long dress and the burden of Gracie’s weight. He felt compelled to slow, despite the desire to escape before he gave in to the need to tell her the truth and ask her to spend the rest of her life with him. The problem wasn’t the rest of his life. It was the rest of hers. He couldn’t ask her to face the long years ahead as a widow. She ran in front of him, forcing him to slam to a halt.

They stared at each other, both breathing hard. “Move.”

“No.”

“For a Plain woman, you surely don’t understand the relationship between a man and a woman.”

“You mean, you order me around, I do what you say?”

“Not exactly.”

“In the end, you will win. I know that, but I won’t give up, not without a fight. I thought I could be your friend. I thought God’s plan meant I should settle for being your friend. But I can’t. Because if I do, that means I’ve given up on you and I won’t do that just because you have.”

He bolted to her left. His buggy was parked next to the corral fence. He rushed into the corral and started harnessing his horse. He could feel Annie’s stare boring into his back.

He hitched the horse to the buggy in silence, but somehow words, angry and accusatory, still leaped back and forth between them. He climbed into the buggy. “I’m going now.”

“That’s fine. You do that. Come on, Gracie, let’s go see what’s for supper.” She turned and stared up at him. “I was wrong to consider giving up on us. I have faith. And with faith comes hope.”

She began to walk away, her shoulders thrown back, her head held high. Much as he wanted to escape, he couldn’t move. He couldn’t take his gaze from her figure as she sauntered toward the house, every movement steady and strong, as if she hadn’t a care in the world. When she got to the big oak tree that marked the halfway point to the house, she turned and waved. “Where’s your faith, David? Where’s your hope? Tell me that.”

Annie’s jaw ached with the effort to hold back the tears. She resisted the urge to slam the screen door. It would only scare Gracie and irritate Leah. She’d lost her temper with David. Instead of using gentle words of persuasion, she’d shrieked at him. No man cared for a woman who sounded like that. Why had she said anything? Why had she allowed herself to give in to the temptation to bare her anger and frustration to him? She had been determined to hold her tongue and be his friend through the treatments and the tests and the results. Instead, she’d driven him far, far away.
Oh, Father, please forgive me. Please help David to forgive me.

The sound of shouting trumpeting from the kitchen forced Annie from her reverie. Leah’s familiar screech said things weren’t going well in the house either. She wiped at her face with her sleeve and pulled herself together. There would be time later for self-recrimination and prayers for forgiveness.

Charisma trudged into the front room. “I think you’d better get back there.”

“What’s going on?” Annie set Gracie on the floor next to a pile of the little twins’ building blocks. The little girl immediately took her thumb from her mouth, grabbed a block, and threw it across the room. It pinged against the wall and Annie shook a finger at her. “Don’t do that, Gracie. Build something for Mommy, okay?” She handed her another block and turned to Charisma. “Why is Leah yelling?”

“I don’t know, but Lillie and Mary are trying to hide in the corner and they’re both bawling.”

Leaving Charisma to entertain her daughter, Annie rushed into the kitchen. Charisma’s description didn’t do justice to the scene. Leah, her face almost purple, brandished a long wooden spoon in one hand. The room reeked of burned food. The twins scrunched down on their knees next to the wood-burning stove. They were both sobbing. “Annie, Annie!” Mary jumped to her feet. “It was an accident. We didn’t mean to burn supper.”

“Accident? Accidents are what happen when you trip and knock a dish off the table,” Leah shrieked. Her arms flailed and the spoon dipped and rolled. “You are lazy! Both of you! Lazy slackers!”

“It doesn’t help to call names.” Annie edged into the fray, stationing herself between the wooden spoon and Mary’s head. “Whatever they did, I’m sure they didn’t mean it.”

Leah smacked the spoon on the prep table. “You run around the countryside with your Englisch friend—who never lifts a finger to help, by the way—how would you know what is going on here?” She pointed the spoon at the twins. “I was sewing pants for William and Joseph. These two were supposed to get the clothes off the line. Instead of doing their chores, they snuck into the barn to play with the new litter of kittens. The rainstorm comes along and soaks the clothes and the roast is burned. What will I give Luke for supper?”

“There’s ham left from last night. I’ll make a casserole.” Annie whipped toward the refrigerator, thankful they had a way to keep leftovers cold. “It’s no problem.”

“You can’t fix everything.” Leah stomped across the room and stood in front of the small box refrigerator, directly in Annie’s path. “Sometimes there have to be consequences.”

“She’s right.”

Annie turned at the sound of her brother’s voice. Luke stood in the doorway. His clothes were wet and his boots muddy, but it was the resignation on his face that poked Annie in the stomach. He looked downright miserable. “Leah, go deal with the laundry. Annie, make the casserole. Lillie, Mary, wait for me in the shed.”

Annie edged a step closer to her sisters. “No, that’s not—”

“Stop talking and do as you were told.” He sounded just like Daed. Looked like him too. Old before his time. His gaze swung back to the twins. “Go.”

Their faces terrified, they backed toward the door. Lillie threw Annie one last imploring look.

“Luke!”

He brushed past her. “You’re making this harder, don’t you see that? I have to teach them. That’s my job.”

“Can’t you do it with compassion?”

“That comes after.” He paused, one hand on the screen door. “That comes when I agree to letting Lillie and Mary stay with Emma for a while.”

Annie breathed a sigh of relief. The twins would suffer a little now, for their own good, but then they would find relief in a house where they were wanted and not in the way.

“What? No. I thought you agreed with me that we needed to keep them here.” Leah dropped the spoon on the table. “We agreed.”

“No. You argued. I listened.” Luke pushed open the door. “And then I made up my mind. They go.”

“How will I get everything done here?”