Love’s Journey Home (25 page)

Annie heard her voice trailing away, but she couldn’t help herself. Her gaze had already
returned to Isaac’s. The ferocity of his tenderness held her, alarmed her, yet told
her something she wasn’t sure she was ready to hear.

“If I show up at your doorstep, will you come out?” He kept his voice low, gruff,
barely above a whisper. “Or will you leave me sitting out there all by myself? All
alone?”

Her hand fluttered to her neck. She tilted her head, contemplating, imagining that
scene in her head. She saw his buggy parked in front of her home. She saw the glow
of the flashlight dancing on the wall in the living room. She saw herself moving toward
the door. Surely, she would open the door. She heard the sound of a baby crying. She
stopped.

“I don’t know,” she whispered.

“If you don’t know, who does?”

Her heart pounding so hard in her chest, she was sure he could hear it, Annie jerked
from the chair. It tumbled back. Isaac scrambled to his feet. He picked up the chair
without taking his gaze from hers. “What are you so afraid of?” He leaned forward,
his voice barely above a whisper. The others were so engrossed in their conversations,
they didn’t seem to notice.

“I need to check on Noah. He’s been napping too long,” she stammered. Since when did
he make her stammer? No man had ever made her stutter. Not even David. “If I don’t
get him up now, he won’t sleep tonight.”

Determined to escape his riveting gaze, she tried to bolt around him. He stepped in
her path.

She took two steps back, aware that Emma and Leah, engaged in conversation in the
chair swing hanging from the tree a few yards away, had both stopped talking. She
shook her head slightly at Emma’s questioning look. Emma nodded, but her gaze remained
on Isaac.

Annie had to end this before Leah caught on. She looked up at him. “Don’t ask me that
now, please.”

“Annie.” Pain, surely it was pain, imbued the two syllables that formed her name.
“Annie.”

“I don’t know.”

He deserved an answer, she knew that, but she couldn’t find it in her heart to give
him one. Not at this moment, not on this day. She picked up her skirt with both hands,
whipped around him, and fled into the house.

A
nnie folded the pants on which she had finished letting down the hem and stuck them
in the mending basket that sat at her feet. Exhausted, she let her hands drop into
her lap. Her eyes burned and her fingers ached from holding the needle too long. The
silence of the evening told her everyone in the house had turned in for the night.
One pole lantern illuminated the small area in the living room allowing her to see
to sew. Everything else had been turned off to conserve fuel. The breeze that came
through the open windows did nothing to cool her face. She should go to bed. Instead,
she sat, not moving, contemplating the day. Despite Luke’s pending absence hanging
over them and the reason for it—moving to another state—it had been a good Sunday.

The family gathering with the volleyball and the visiting had been fun. She enjoyed
holding the new baby and chatting with Miriam and Helen. She enjoyed watching the
kinner play volleyball. Truth be told, she especially enjoyed watching the Gless men
play. They looked so much alike, all tall, sturdy, and strong. They smacked the ball
around like they knew what they were doing. Especially Isaac, who kept looking over
at her as if to see if she were taking note of his ability to send the ball soaring
over the net.

The girls didn’t stand a chance. Until Helen played. She showed them not all girls
were puny players. Isaac took it in stride, laughing as hard as the rest. Each time
the ball rolled her way he loped over to pick it up, gave her a wink and a grin, and
strode back to the field where he and his brother Seth had set up a lovely spike that
sent the girls dashing out of its way. It’d been fun, even when he’d nearly run over
her on the sidelines. Miriam insisted it had been intentional. But Miriam saw what
she wanted to see. Annie shoved aside the question he’d asked her. She had no answer.
Better to savor the good time they’d had up until he’d asked that question. The question
she didn’t want to think about.

After all, when would they have that much fun again? She wished David had been there
to see it. David.
Ach
, David. When would she stop seeking to fill her new memories with past ones? She
sighed, knowing it was time to plod up the stairs and face her empty bed. In the last
year, she’d taken to staying up later and later out of sheer cowardice.
Go on, get up
. Get going up those stairs. Monday would come early, with Luke’s departure and the
bakery to open. Mondays always required so much more baking to get ready for the coming
week. She’d darn one more sock and turn in. One more pair of socks. The boys were
so hard on their socks…

A glowing circle of light danced on the wall in front of her. “What?” she spoke aloud
despite being alone in the living room. She turned and craned her head over the back
of the sofa. The light traveled across the room, striking all the familiar objects,
the rocking chair, the table. A dawning realization brought with it a feeling of dread
mixed with something else, something like…anticipation. Anticipation and pleasure
danced with dread and a certainty that she couldn’t, she
shouldn’t
, think of anyone but David. She dropped the sock back in the basket, rose on trembling
legs, and went to the window.

A buggy was parked by the porch. Isaac Gless stood on the steps, flashlight in hand.
The light floated, then hit her square in the eyes. “
Ach
.” She shielded them with her hand, then pulled open the door. “What are you doing?”

Silly question. She knew what he was doing.

“You didn’t know the answer to the question, so I decided to help you figure it out.
I’ve come calling.”

It couldn’t be any clearer than that. Annie hesitated, hand on the door. She tried
to sort through her feelings. They were all topsy-turvy. A sense of delight mixed
with a deep, dark hands-around-her-throat feeling that she couldn’t betray David.
Not like this. She had married David. In her heart, she still felt married.
God, God, how can I do this? How can I let him go?

“Come out with me. We’ll take a ride down by the creek. Now that the sun is going
down it’s not so hot.”

“It’s late,” she stammered. “Luke’s leaving in the morning, and I have the bakery
to open. Mondays are very busy. I was just going to…”

“A short buggy ride.” He held out his hand as if to take hers. “I promise.”

I promise
. Like David had promised to love her and honor her for the rest of their lives. Such
a short life. Annie slid through the door and closed it behind her. Despite the muggy
July heat, a chill ran through her. She hugged her arms to her middle. Isaac’s hand
dropped. She couldn’t see his expression in the dark behind the flashlight’s glow.

“Turn off the flashlight, please.”

He complied. In the gathering dusk, his white teeth glinted in a smile. “Hop in, we’ll
take a spin.” He offered his hand again. “Then we’ll both have our answer.”

“I can’t. I have to get up early in the morning.”

“You mentioned that. Is that really the reason you won’t go, or is it because you
don’t find me…suitable?”

Suitable. She couldn’t help herself. She giggled. “Suitable? I don’t think suitable
is what a girl wants when a beau comes calling.” She stopped. Heat burned her cheeks
and neck. “Not that I think of you as a beau, I mean, I…”

“You find this funny? Women are lucky.” His hand dropped and he shook his head, a
painful expression on his rugged face. “They don’t have to take the first step. They
don’t have to be the ones who get rejected.”

“I’m not rejecting you.” She couldn’t find it in her heart to send him away, knowing
as she did how hard it truly was for a man to get up the nerve to come calling on
a woman who might turn up her nose or not even come to the door at all. She trotted
down the steps and stopped in front of him. “I hardly know you.”

“Then get to know me. They say there’s no time like the present.”

“I don’t know…”

“What don’t you know? If you could like me? Give me a chance.”

“I do like you.” Annie stopped, startled by her own admission. The heat on her cheeks
and neck deepened to a searing broil. The truth often sallies forth without a person
knowing it. The feelings gave credence to the words. “I mean, I think I could…you
know…like you.”

She did like him.
Lord, how did that happen?

“Then come for a ride with me.” The note of pleading in his low voice reduced Annie’s
reservations to ashes. She felt soft, through and through. Something about his cadence
had that effect on her. She’d felt it in the bakery, the first day when he’d teased
her into giving him a fresh, hot cookie. She’d felt it when she watched him hold baby
Lilah. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, she felt it now.

David’s face flashed in her mind. His dark eyes, filled with emotion as he said his
vows. His delighted smile when he held Noah in his arms the day their son was born.

No.

No, no.

She simply didn’t want to be mean. How could she be so mean as to turn away a man
who, as he said, had put everything on the line, to come here and ask a girl for a
simple thing? A buggy ride.

She swallowed the knot in her throat. “But Noah.”

“Noah sleeps through the night, doesn’t he?”

“Not often.”

“Your brother’s fraa is here.”

“Leah’s here.”

He held his hand out yet again. “Let me help you up.”

With his help, she climbed in. His hand, hard and callused, gripped hers with almost
painful strength. His touch set her hands to shaking. No matter, they matched the
trembling of her legs. She sank onto the buggy seat. He let go. With relief—it had
to be relief—she clasped her fingers together in a white-knuckled grip and thanked
God Isaac hadn’t asked her to take a walk. She’d have fallen flat on her face in a
knock-kneed tribute to her own fear.

“That wasn’t so bad.” Isaac picked up the reins, made a clucking sound, and guided
the buggy away from the house. “Not so bad at all.”

For whom
, Annie wanted to ask.

She stayed quiet, fearful her voice would give her away. After a second, she recognized
the hitch in his low voice for what it was. Nerves. He took a deep breath and exhaled.

“Not so bad? Then why are you sweating?” She couldn’t let him get away with sounding
so smug. To her relief, she sounded just like she did when she asked him if he wanted
a cookie on his almost-daily visits to the bakery. No nerves in her voice. “Don’t
tell me it’s the heat of summer in Kansas that’s turning you into one big puddle.”

“Nice. Good of you to point that out.” He didn’t sound the least put-out. “Moving
right along. Let’s talk about something besides my ability to sweat at the drop of
a hat.”

“What do you want to talk about?” She gazed out at the passing fields, reminding herself
periodically to breathe. This was a bad idea. A very bad idea. “Maybe you should start.”

“Should I tell you a joke? Would that make you feel better?”

“What makes you think I don’t feel well?”

“You look like you could heave any second.”

“Wouldn’t that be lovely?” It might be true but he didn’t have to point it out. “Maybe
supper disagreed with me.”

“You didn’t eat supper.”

He’d been watching her. The thought unnerved her more.

He tugged the reins until the buggy slowed to a snail’s pace and turned his head toward
her. “I know this is hard for you. I watch my daed struggle every day to move on.
I know it’s time for him to do it. All of us know it. I think he even knows it. But
his heart has to get to where his head is. So does yours. Is it there yet?”

“I don’t know.” Stupid answer. Isaac’s assessment of his daed’s state of mind was
very knowing. His question merited a thoughtful response. “Sometimes I think so, and
then I think it’s just that I’m so lonely and I’m tired and I’m not sure I can raise
Noah to be the man he deserves to be without a husband at my side.”

“A time will come when you can think of your husband without being sad.”

“I can’t imagine that time.”

“But it will come.” Isaac clucked and set the buggy in motion again. “I’m counting
on it. And I will be there when that time does come.”

His declaration sent her mind reeling again. Her hands clenched tighter. She tried
to breathe, but her throat felt so constricted. “I think I should go home now,” she
whispered, unable to get enough air to speak more loudly. “Please take me home.”

Isaac didn’t answer, but he guided the buggy in a slow, careful turn.

“Danki.”

“I didn’t mean to upset you. I like you, Annie.”

“You didn’t upset me.” She managed to raise her head and meet his sideways gaze. “I
think I like you too.”

The surprise—and the fear—in that realization would keep her up for nights to come.