An Honest Love (7 page)

“Do you know what kind of floor you want?”

She looked at Lukas. “Something inexpensive.” She eyed the old yellowed linoleum, which was stained and buckling in a couple of places.

“I have a friend who puts in flooring.” Lukas stepped out of the bathroom and faced her. “I’ll talk to him and see if he can give you a discount.”

“Lukas, I appreciate it but—”

“Let me guess. You’d rather pay full price.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “
Nee
, I’d rather not.” Her mirth faded. “You’ve done so much already.”

Tipping back his hat, he said, “Glad to do it.”

“And I’m grateful, I really am. But I’m afraid I’m taking advantage of you.”

“I’m the one who should decide that, don’t you think? And I’ve decided you’re not taking advantage. So let me talk to Nathan and see what I can do about the flooring.”

“But I haven’t paid you for replacing the door yet.”

He gazed at her for a moment, as if he were deep in thought. “Tell you what, there’s a singing Sunday night at my house. Say you’ll attend and we’ll call it even.”

His invitation caught her off guard. She hadn’t been to a singing in years, mostly because Daniel had never enjoyed them. She loved to sing, and for a brief moment she considered saying yes. But she couldn’t. “I’m sorry,” she said, turning away from him and facing her desk. “I can’t come.”

“Why not?”

Was that disappointment she heard in his voice? She turned around and saw that his grin had faded, his hazel eyes peering at her intensely. She looked away. “I’ll be busy with the store.”

“On a Sunday?” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “You’ll have to come up with a better excuse.”

“Then how about this. I’m too old to go to singings.”

His brow lifted. “Too old? You’re kidding, right?”

She tilted up her chin. “
Nee
, I’m not. I haven’t been to a singing in a long time.”

“All the more reason to come. You’ll have a great time. My sister Elisabeth will be there. I know you two will get along great. She’ll probably talk your ear off, though, so consider yourself warned. My
mudder
is also making her famous Ho Ho cake. You haven’t lived until you’ve tasted it.”

“Lukas, I’m not going.” Why couldn’t he just take no for an answer? She went to her desk and pulled out her checkbook. “How much do I owe you for fixing the door and the bathroom?”

He came up behind her. “Anna.”

Unable to resist his gentle tone, she faced him.

“How about you tell me the real reason you don’t want to
geh
.”

“I already did.”

“You gave me an excuse, not the truth.”

She placed her hands behind her on the desk and leaned back. “Why is it so important that I go? ”

“I’ve never been one to tiptoe around things, Anna. I’m straightforward, and what you see is what you get. You’ve probably figured that out by now.”

She nodded, transfixed by the way his intense expression pinned her in place.

“While I haven’t minded at all helping you out, I’ll admit I had other reasons.” He stepped toward her. “I wanted to get to know you better. And now that I’ve started doing that, I don’t want to stop.”

She felt her pulse quicken. Even when she and Daniel had decided to get married, he had never been so open with his thoughts or feelings. She took a moment to collect her thoughts and try to calm down her heart rate. Finally, she spoke. “I appreciate that, Lukas. It’s, um, nice of you to say.”

He frowned. “That wasn’t the reaction I was looking for.”

She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. But . . .”

“But what?”

“There are things you don’t know about me that might change your mind. Like my age, for one thing.”

His brows knitted together. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“You’re young—eighteen or nineteen, right?”

“Wrong. Almost twenty.”

“Still young. How old do you think I am?”

“I don’t care.”

“I do. I’m nearly twenty-five.”

He let out a low whistle. “Wow. Practically a senior citizen.”

“I’m serious, Lukas.”

“I am too. If you think it matters to me that you’re five years older, you’re wrong.”

“Then here’s something that will matter to you. I used to be engaged.”

Surprise registered on his face, but he barely paused. “Tell me about him.”

“What?”

“Tell me about the
dummkopf
that was foolish enough to let you get away. Although I might have to find him and thank him.”

“Lukas, this isn’t a joke.”

“I’m not laughing.” His expression remained somber. “Tell me what happened.”

The compassion in his voice and expression nearly brought her to tears. She was surprised she had any left; she’d shed so many after Daniel broke up with her. She looked away. “I don’t know.” How it pained her to say the words out loud, to admit that she had no idea why her fiancé had ended their engagement less than a week before the wedding.

“He broke his vow to you?”

She hesitated, then nodded before standing up. “He came to see me a few days before the wedding. I thought everything was all right between us. We’d been together for a long time, almost four years. I was happy, and I thought he was too. But he said he couldn’t marry me.” Her throat caught. The pain of his last words still lingered.

“He said it was him, not me. That he wasn’t ready for marriage. Then he wished me the best and left.” She looked at Lukas. “He moved to another district shortly after. A few months later I heard he married someone from that church.”

“Anna, I’m sorry.”

Lifting her chin, she said, “So now you understand why I can’t
geh
to the singing.”

Lukas shook his head. “
Nee
. What I understand is that you’re scared of getting hurt again. And after what that jerk did, I don’t blame you.”

“He’s not a jerk.”

“Sounds like one to me. I’m surprised you’re defending him.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “We’re supposed to forgive, aren’t we?”

“
Ya
.” His tone softened. “We are. I don’t mean to sound harsh, but the thought of someone hurting you . . . you don’t deserve that, Anna.”

She didn’t like the way her emotions were responding to him. She stepped to the side. “It’s late. We should both be getting home. Just let me know how much I owe you so I can write you a check.”

Lukas didn’t say anything. Instead he turned and retrieved his tool belt from the bathroom. He gave her a long look, then walked out of the office.

Surprised, she followed him. “Lukas, wait.”

He turned around, his expression as serious as she’d ever seen it. “I won’t take your money, Anna.”

“But—”

“I don’t know how it is in Maryland, but here we help each other.”

“We did the same.”

“Then there’s nothing more to discuss. Unless you’ve changed your mind about Sunday.”

She hesitated for a moment. A part of her wanted to say yes, to go to the singing with Lukas and not worry about her growing feelings for him. But Daniel’s betrayal kept popping into her thoughts, a stark reminder of what could happen if she acknowledged her feelings. “
Nee
. I haven’t.”

Disappointment colored his features. “Then there’s nothing more to say.”

She threaded her fingers together behind her back. “I guess not.”

Without another word he left.

Anna went to the door and watched him get in the buggy. Dusk had already descended, cloaking the sky in gray and purple light. As his buggy pulled away, she put her hand on the door, feeling the coolness of the glass against her palm. Several dead leaves skittered across the parking lot, pushed along by the fall breeze. She leaned her forehead on the door, unable to shake the feeling she’d just made a huge mistake.

As she turned to go inside, a dull ache suddenly spread across her lower abdomen. She winced. Since the age of sixteen she’d experienced similar pain, but it had gotten worse over the past few months during her monthly cycle. Most times she could ignore it, but lately that had become more difficult. She’d always hoped it would go away as she grew older, but instead the pain had steadily increased.

Anna went to her office and sat down at her desk. She opened the side drawer, pulled out her purse, and searched for a bottle of pain reliever. She shook out two pills in her palm, then took them with a sip of water she always had nearby. Usually after thirty minutes the pain would subside. It was something she had come to expect a few days every month.

Ignoring the ache, she began to straighten up her desk before she went home. She picked up the checkbook, thinking of Lukas again. Even though she had turned him down, he still hadn’t wanted her money. Mentally she calculated how much he’d saved her business over the course of two months. Just the labor alone was enough for her to say a prayer of thanks for his generosity.

And to make her feel guilty.

She exhaled. For everything he’d done for her and Esh’s Amish Goods, he’d asked so little in return. The least she could do was show up at the singing. Besides, it might be fun. She’d been so focused on her work and family since moving to Middlefield, she really hadn’t had a chance to get to know people in the community, especially those close to her age. And if she went to the singing, she wouldn’t be obligated to Lukas anymore. Well, not completely. She still planned to pay him for his work. She’d force him to take a check if she had to.

Twenty minutes and a tidy office later, she felt much better. The pain reliever had kicked in, and she felt good about her decision to go to the Bylers’ Sunday evening, even though the thought of seeing Lukas there made her palms grow damp. If only she’d met him before Daniel. Everything would be different. But she hadn’t, and she believed that God had a plan for her life, and her experience with Daniel happened for a reason. She had to protect her heart. Somehow she’d have to make him understand.

“Who tied your tail into a knot?”

Lukas looked at his sister Elisabeth with a puzzled expression then turned over one of the chairs in the kitchen. It was wobbly, and he needed to fix it before people started showing up for the singing. The table, handcrafted by their father years ago, took up a large part of the room but had comfortably seated their family of eight for years. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re so crabby today.” She scraped a large dollop of mayonnaise from the jar and plopped it on top of a huge bowl of chicken salad.

“Elisabeth, I’ve barely been around you today.” They had both been busy getting ready for company. Since it was Sunday they weren’t doing actual work but finishing up minor details. Elisabeth had decided at the last minute the chicken salad needed “a little something extra,” but other than that they were prepared for their guests, who would start arriving any minute.

“I know I haven’t seen you much, but when I have you’ve been scowling. You’re face will freeze like that if you’re not careful.”

“You don’t still believe that old wives’ tale, do you?”

“
Nee
. But you never know, you could be the first.” She looked at him and grinned. “Then you’ll only be half as
gutguckich
as all the
maed
think you are.”

Lukas didn’t answer her. He didn’t care what other girls thought of him. He only cared about one. And that one didn’t want to have anything to do with him, only his repair skills.

He frowned. That wasn’t entirely true. But that didn’t help stem the bitter disappointment he still felt from her rejection the other day.

“See, there you go again.” Elisabeth started stirring the salad, cradling the bowl against her chest as she faced him. “You haven’t been sucking on lemons, have you?”

“Drop it, Elisabeth.” He checked the bottom of each chair leg then discovered the problem. He pulled out his pocket knife and started scraping the wood.

“This wouldn’t have anything to do with Anna Esh, would it?”

“Why would you think that?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Elisabeth said in a sing-song voice. “Maybe because you’re with her almost as much as you’re here at home?”

“I’m not
with
her; I’m doing work at the store.”

“And at her house.”

“So?” He set the chair down and pushed it back and forth, checking the stability. It still wasn’t even, so he flipped it back over and tried again.

“A
mann
wouldn’t work so hard for a
maedel
unless he was sweet on her.”

“Or unless he knew she didn’t have any help.” His frown deepened. His sister could be like a dog with a bone sometimes. She didn’t know when to let something go. “It’s none of your business anyway.”

“You’re my
bruder
and I care about you.”

“I’d believe you, except I know the truth.” He checked the chair again, glad to see he’d fixed it this time. He stood up and looked at Elisabeth. “You’re being nosy.”

She continued stirring the chicken salad with a long-handled wooden spoon. “I’m hurt you would accuse me of such a thing.”

“Even if it’s the truth?”

She gave him a look then glanced at the bowl. “Oh,
nee
! I put too much mayo in this!”