A Place of His Own (5 page)

“It's no bother at all,” she said over her shoulder, already heading to the house. When he called out her name again, she ignored him, determined not to let him turn down her offer. He'd been out all day, and he shouldn't have to fix his own supper. Not when she could easily do it for him.

Tall weeds and grass tickled her bare legs as she made the way to the back door. She skipped up the two concrete steps and noticed the screen door missing. Glancing around, she saw it lying on the ground next to the house. She picked it up and leaned it against the house before going inside.

She hadn't been in the Bontragers' home since they had moved away. Although her
daed
had tried to take care of the outside, no one had ventured in as far as she knew. The dank, stuffy smell confirmed her suspicion. Stepping inside the small mudroom, she opened another door, which led into the kitchen. She couldn't see much more than shadows in the darkened space, so she searched for a battery-operated lamp or gaslight. Finally, she found a small battery lamp next to the metal sink and flipped on the light. The glow illuminated a thick layer of dust on the counter.

Cobwebs decorated every corner, from the ceiling to the wood-planked floor. Some of the nails had come loose, and the planks themselves were rough and dirty. Grime covered the stove, and two of the cabinets were missing doors.

“Not much to look at, is it?”

She turned around at the sound of Josiah's voice. He stood in the doorway, his expression shadowed from her view, his tone expressing his displeasure. Not that she could blame him. The kitchen, and probably the entire house, was a mess.

Still, there was a stove—and running water, she hoped. She started opening cabinets, looking for any kind of ingredients to prepare what would surely be a simple meal. The first two cabinets revealed only more cobwebs.

The thud of his shoes sounded against the floor as he came up behind her. He put his hand on one of the cabinet doors, his arm hovering over her shoulder. “Don't.”

Twirling around, she looked up at him, their faces only inches from each other. Her breath hung in her throat at his nearness, and her heartbeat accelerated. But not out of fear or even anxiety. Attraction crackled between them, pure and simple.

Her reaction to him didn't make sense. This was Josiah, her best friend from childhood. Yet the person standing before her wasn't a child anymore, but a man.

Licking her suddenly dry lips, she asked, “Um, do you keep your food somewhere else?”

“I don't want you making me anything.”

His words were low, with a tinge of anger in them. Hurt pricked at her. When did he develop such a short fuse?

They stared at each other for a moment. His hand didn't move, and suddenly her confusion at his tone melted into something else. The last remnants of sunlight shone through the kitchen window, blending with the stark light of the lamp. She could see his face clearly now, saw the darkening of his eyes as he continued to hold her gaze. Then he suddenly dropped his arm and stepped away.

“Best if you go home now, Amanda.” His voice sounded slightly hoarse, and a shiver passed through her at his raspy tone.

“But—”

“Geh!”

She shrank back. “All right.” Spinning around on the balls of her bare feet, she turned to leave. She'd taken no more than three steps when she felt something sharp pierce the bottom of her foot. “Ow!” Lifting up her foot, she spied a dark streak of blood on the bottom of her heel.

“What?” Josiah said, striding toward her. His harsh tone had softened into concern.

“
Nix
. I just cut my foot.” As the stinging pain traveled through the bottom of her heel, a drop of blood landed on the floor.

He hesitated, then sighed. “Let me see.” He pulled out a chair from the kitchen table and gestured for her to sit.

“It's nothing, Josiah.” Her voice held more of an edge than she meant it to. “Just a little cut. I'll go home and put a bandage on it.”

She didn't want to stay here any longer, especially when he didn't want her to, something he'd made very clear. But when she put her foot down to walk out, she couldn't hide her wince.

He grabbed the lamp from the counter and set it on the table. “Sit down, Amanda.”

His sharp tone brooked no argument, and neither did the resolute expression on his face. She sat.

Chapter Four

“GIVE ME YOUR FOOT,” JOSIAH SAID, CROUCHING IN FRONT of her.

“Josiah, it's not that bad. You don't have to—”

He grabbed her ankle, effectively cutting her off. Gentling his grip, he balanced the back edge of her heel on his knee and examined the wound. “Cut's about an inch wide. Not bleeding too much.”

“See, I told you.”

“But you have a big splinter stuck in it.” He put her foot down and left the kitchen.

“Josiah?” She frowned when he didn't answer her. Josiah hadn't only changed physically. He had a completely different personality than she remembered. He'd never behaved like he didn't want to be around her, or that she was in his way.

Disappointment threaded through her. She'd been so excited to have her best friend back. Now she wondered if they would ever be friends again.

She looked up as he entered the room carrying a bandage, tweezers, and a brown bottle of peroxide. At her questioning look he said, “I always keep a first aid kit around. Never know when you might need it.”

Setting the supplies on the table, he knelt in front of her again and took her foot. He hesitated for a moment, and a wave of embarrassment flowed through her. She'd never been too concerned about her feet before. But with him crouched in front of her, holding her foot in a surprisingly gentle grip, she suddenly became self-conscious.

Silently he took the tweezers and yanked out the splinter so quickly she barely felt it. He unscrewed the white cap of the peroxide and poured it over her heel, apparently not caring that the antiseptic dripped on his pants. A glimmer of hope sparked inside her. Maybe he hadn't changed completely after all.

Her heel still damp, they stayed motionless for a few seconds. Her foot twitched, and he grabbed it, as if worried it would fall off his knee. But instead of letting go, his thumb brushed the instep. An accidental movement, yet so featherlight she shivered.

Clearing his throat, he let go of her foot, snatched the bandage off the kitchen table and used his teeth to open the wrapper. He quickly affixed the bandage on the bottom of her heel, smoothing out the adhesive. “Done,” he said, his voice brusque.

“
Danki
.” She put her foot down.

The moment she moved, he jumped up and took several steps backward, not looking at her, erecting a noticeable wall between them.

Inwardly she sighed. He really didn't want her here. She stood and turned around, being more mindful of the splintery floor, and walked toward the door, ready to be gone. But instead of leaving, she hesitated at the doorway. Facing him, she asked, “What did I do wrong, Josiah? Why are you so upset with me?”

Josiah couldn't answer right away. He had fully expected her to leave, and a part of him had wanted her to. But another, stronger part wanted her to stay. Confusion and hurt were displayed on her lovely face. He had no idea how to soothe them away.

Over the years since he'd left Paradise, Josiah had thought of Amanda often. They'd had more than a close friendship, at least from his standpoint. At the tender age of twelve, he had decided to marry her, but of course he didn't tell her that. There would be time for that, he had thought. Plenty of time for him to make her fall in love with him.

Then his mother died, and everything changed. Amanda had been there for him during that dark time, more than she realized. And after he left Paradise, he had dreamed of the day he would see her again. But as time passed, he realized how impossible that would be. So he tried to push her out of his mind. He'd even tried dating a couple of girls, hoping to quash his feelings for Amanda, but the idea of courting anyone else felt like a betrayal. Then his life had gotten so out of control he refused to allow himself to have feelings for anyone. Even so, Amanda had never been all that far from his thoughts, or his heart.

And now he was back in Paradise, and Amanda was back in his life. Before leaving his house that morning, he had seen her putting out the wash, and it had taken everything he had to keep from staring at her. He'd had to dig deeper still when he tended to her foot. He couldn't let her leave with a bleeding foot, especially since she had injured it on his pathetic excuse for a floor. When he knelt in front of her, trying to ignore her small, delicate foot, he had to fight for the resolve to keep his feelings from breaking the surface.

Then he had stroked her instep. The movement had been instinctive, and it was done before he could stop himself. At that point he knew he couldn't be that close to her again. He'd spent more than a decade smothering any feelings and tightly controlling his reactions. Yet in the span of a few minutes, Amanda Graber had threatened to undo all of that, without even knowing it. He couldn't afford to let that happen.

“Josiah?” Her steps were tentative, and not only because of the sad state of his kitchen floor. He'd been so cold to her, no wonder she was skittish. “Josiah, I don't understand. I thought after all these years you would be happy to see me.”

“I am.” The words were out before he knew it. Clamping down his lips, he didn't say anything else. Then she smiled, and his knees almost buckled.

“I'm so glad to hear that,” she said as she moved toward him. She sighed, a light, pleasing sound that sent a ripple down his spine. “I thought maybe I'd somehow made you mad without knowing it.”

He shook his head, unable to let her believe she was at fault for his keeping his distance. “It's just that . . . I'm tired, I guess. It was a long trip here, and as you can see”—he held out his arms wide—“I have a lot of work to do on the house and barn.”

“I can help you.”

She was now standing only a few feet away from him. Close enough that he could see flecks of green in her hazel eyes, which were rimmed by thick lashes. Another detail he either had forgotten or had been too young to pay attention to. But now he couldn't stop staring at her. “I appreciate the offer, Amanda, but I won't be needing help. It'll take me awhile, but I'll get it done.”

“Well, that doesn't make any sense to me.” She put her hands on her hips. “I'm as able-bodied as you, and you said yourself you have a lot of work to do. You know what my
grossmammi
used to say when I was little?”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Many hands make light work?”

“Nee,
although that's true too. She used to say that only a fool refuses a neighbor's outstretched hand. I remember a lot of things about you, Josiah Bontrager. But I don't remember you being a fool.”

His father would have begged to differ, but he didn't say that out loud. “I don't think it's foolish to not want to put you to any trouble.”

“It's no trouble. Besides, my sisters and brothers can help. They're out of school on the weekends. Actually, they're out of school for the rest of the week because their teacher has the flu, so we can start right away.”

“How many brothers and sisters did you say you had?”

“Six.” She ticked their names and ages off on her fingertips. “Hannah is ten; Rachel, nine; Andrew turned eight last month; Thomas is six, although he'll insist he's six and a half; Christopher is four; and Jacob is eighteen months.
Mamm
's expecting number eight in July.”

Josiah's eyes widened. “That's incredible.”

“I know. They really thought I would be the only one, especially after trying for so long, but then once she got pregnant with Hannah, the babies kept coming.”

“So what's it like having all those brothers and sisters underfoot?” He couldn't hold back his fascination or his wonder at Amanda's enthusiasm as she talked about her brothers and sisters. When he'd left Paradise, he and Amanda had been only children. He couldn't fathom having so many younger siblings.

“Wunderbaar!”
She clasped her hands together for emphasis. “Sure, it's a lot of work, especially since
Mamm
doesn't feel well right now. She usually gets extremely tired in the last trimester. But I help out as much as I can, and I really love taking care of them. I hope to have a large family someday.”

Josiah bit the inside of his cheek. He remembered playing house with Amanda when they were kids, at her insistence, of course. A stupid game, he'd thought at the time, but he gave in because she would always agree to climb trees with him afterward. So it didn't come as a surprise that she would want a large family. And while as a boy he'd felt dumb playing house, now he longed to have a wife and children of his own. No, scratch that. He had longed to have a family of his own with Amanda. But as he did with every other yearning, he suffocated it. Marrying Amanda wasn't in his future. Not out of choice, but out of necessity.

“I know Andrew and Thomas are young, but they're hard workers,” Amanda said. “They've been helping
Daed
around the house since they were small. And I'm sure Hannah and Rachel won't mind working in here with me.” She strolled around the kitchen, ideas obviously rolling around in her mind. She ran her fingertips over the dusty countertops. “First we'll need to scrub everything down. Then we can fill the pantry with food and figure out a place to put the cooler so you can keep ice and the cold stuff. And you'll need some sort of stove.” She opened up the rusty gas oven and peered inside, then coughed. “We'll clean this out too.” Standing, she looked at him, her mouth curved in a lovely smile. “Before long you'll smell the sweet aroma of apple pies baking.”

“I don't bake.” This was getting out of hand. He had merely wanted her not to feel bad; he hadn't meant to open the door for her to do all this for him.