Love’s Journey Home (36 page)

“Don’t rush off on my account.” He eased into the other chair. “Nice breeze.”

“Nice.” She rocked some more, wondering what went on in the head of her oldest brother.
One could never tell from his face. “All things considered.”

“Nice.”

They fell silent.

“What’s it like?” She swiped a sideways glance at his plain face. “This town where
you’ve decided to settle?”

“Like this, only greener.” His expression grew more animated than she’d seen it in
many years. “More trees. I imagine in the fall they’ll be red and orange and yellow.
And the town is a lot like Bliss Creek, only even smaller.”

“Even smaller.” She mulled his words. “The winters will be the same since it’s almost
due east.”

“Should be.”

“And the town?”

“Filled with people minding their own business.”

Annie watched dots of lights flit and dive in the front yard. Fireflies. Like miniature
flashlights. “Are you happy to go, Luke?”

“Strange question.”

It would seem so to Luke, who never questioned his lot in life. Who clung to the rules.
She hadn’t expected him to answer the question. Being happy wasn’t the point. “I know.
I only wondered.”

“I’m…excited isn’t the word. I don’t reckon I know what it is exactly.” His rough
cadence gave away the emotion in him. In the light from the gas lamp that shone in
the open window, his face was half-hidden in shadows and light. Annie never saw much
emotion on his face, and it gave her a strange sense of contentment to know her big
brother hadn’t lost the ability to feel happiness. His lot in life hadn’t robbed him
of those wonderful feelings of possibility. “I’m waiting to see what comes next. It’s
good to know something will come next. I haven’t seen it all or heard it all. There’s
more. God will show us more.”

He looked at her as if to see if she understood. She did. “A little bit like an adventure?”

“I’m a grown man. No need for adventure.” His tone belied the words.

Annie smiled at her stoic, grown-up brother who’d been forced to take the reins and
lead them on a rough, pit-filled road. “An adventure,” she said again.

“Jah.” A grin split his face for a second. “Don’t you go repeating that.”

“Never.” She rocked some more. “What’s the town’s name?”

“We haven’t decided which town for sure yet. It depends on whether we can afford the
land. Which farms are for sale.”

“Which one are you hoping for?”

“The ones God chooses for us.”

“Luke.”

“New Hope. The town’s name is New Hope.”

“New Hope.” She whispered the name to herself. “New Hope. You and Leah will be happy
there, then.”

“I expect. As well you could be.” His tone roughened. “You could use a new beginning
too.”

She thought of Isaac. “I have the bakery.”

“You would let Emma go without you?”

“She has Thomas and the babies. And Mary and Lillie.”

“Who will you have?”

“Josiah and Miriam are here. I have Noah to think of.”

“Josiah and Miriam are busy with the shop and the farm and the babies.”

Annie listened to the words her brother couldn’t say. “I’ll miss you too.”

“Come with us.”

The fact that Luke asked rather than ordered her to join him on this adventure touched
her. “I can’t.”

“You can.”

“I have the bakery. This is my home.”

“Your home is where your family is.”

“I can’t leave here.” She couldn’t tell him about the anguish caused by the thought
of leaving the last place where David had been part of her life. She couldn’t tell
him of the need to face the future squarely in this place. She wouldn’t tell him about
Isaac. Not yet. “My life is here.”

Luke stopped rocking. He smoothed his beard and exhaled. “Jah.”

“Jah.”

“Best get in to bed.” He stood and stretched. “Morning will be here soon enough.”

He was right. A new day awaited them both.

A
nnie slathered more cream cheese frosting on the German chocolate cake. She picked
up the pastry bag of pink frosting, turned it upside down, and squeezed, carefully
guiding it as she formed the letters
Happy Birthday
across the broad expanse of the two-layer cake. Aenti Louise’s favorite. Annie inhaled
the scent of baking lasagna and her mouth watered. She hadn’t been able to eat breakfast
or dinner. Her stomach twisted in a knot. One year since David’s death. Why must the
anniversary occur on the same day as her favorite aunt’s birthday?

If she were any other person, she’d have called it unfair. But Annie knew better.
Being fair didn’t enter into it. Luke and Thomas sat in the front room making plans
for moving their families to another state. Tomorrow they would leave for another
trip, this time to scout properties. The
For Sale
signs had been installed on their gates. The real estate agents in town had been
informed. Mayor Haag, who sputtered and spit fire, had been informed.

She willed her shaking fingers to steady. What would she do without Emma to rely on?
And Mary and Lillie? She longed to ask Emma to let the twins stay with her, but it
wouldn’t be fair to them. She would be at the bakery all day long. Six days a week.
Not the family life they needed. Resolute, she focused on the meal she’d made. Aenti
Louise loved lasagna. Leah argued that they should have had a pot roast or a ham,
but Aenti Louise had trouble chewing meat these days. Noodles. Ground beef. Cheese.
Those she could handle.

What else needed to be done? Lillie, Mary, and Rebecca had set the tables. With the
Gless family arriving along with the Brennamans, the house burst at the seams. They’d
pulled out two folding tables and stuck them together for the younger children while
the adults would sit around the two pine tables. Annie’s fingers trembled again as
she thought of Isaac’s dark gaze on her when he strode into their house, little Rachel
on one hip, Isabelle on the other. He looked the picture of a family man. They could’ve
been his girls. But they weren’t. She forced her gaze from his face. She wouldn’t
think of those soft lips grazing hers. She wouldn’t think of the way he’d bent close
and cupped her face with one hand as he kissed her. No, she’d spent enough time daydreaming
about that. To her utter despair, she couldn’t drive the memory from her mind.

“Annie?”

Had her thoughts brought him into the kitchen? She jumped, and the
y
in birthday streaked and ended in a long, scraggly tail.

“Isaac.” She turned. The icing dripped on her apron.
“Ach.”

“I didn’t mean to startle you. I was only going to ask for a glass of lemonade. Emma
said you…”

“Jah, jah. Right here.” She turned too quickly and bumped her hip on the counter.
“Ouch.”

“I thought we were doing better after our picnic the other night.” He took two steps
in her direction. “Now we’re back to you acting more nervous than a mother cat with
her litter being attacked by a wolf.”

“Nee.” She laid the pastry bag on the counter and picked up the pitcher of lemonade.
“I didn’t hear you come in the room.”

“Does that mean you’ll come out with me again? I wasn’t sure, the way we left it.”

“I think so.”

“You think so?” Incredulity made his voice rough as sandpaper. “Annie, it’s one step
forward and two steps back with you.”

“I’m sorry. This is hard for me.” She handed him the glass. His fingers brushed against
hers. A warmth like cocoa on a winter night coursed through her. “I’m trying.”

“I know.” The hoarseness of his voice made her throat tighten. He sipped from the
glass and then set it on the prep table. His gaze never left her face. “I’m trying
not to go too fast for you, but it’s not my nature.”

Annie couldn’t help but smile at this.

“What are you smiling about?” He looked confused. “It’s not funny.”

“I’m smiling at you. No truer words were spoken. You want to run before we walk. You
want to gallop.”

“Fine. No galloping.” He dabbed at the frosting with his long, tan finger and popped
it in his mouth. “But could you not walk like an old lady? We’ll never get there.”

Annie smacked at his hand and missed. “Don’t eat that!”

“It’s sweet like you—when you’re not being crabby!”

“Crabby!”

Isaac took another swipe at the frosting and Annie pushed his hand away. He snagged
her arm at the wrist and held on. His touch sent heat crackling up her arm and through
her chest. To her heart. They stared at each other. She should move. She should step
back. He should release her. Or he should kiss her. No, not here. Not now. Annie willed
herself to relax. Small steps. Seemly steps. The steps of two Plain people who knew
how to go slowly and carefully into a union that would last them a lifetime. Neither
of them moved. It seemed they’d ceased to breathe. Or they breathed at the same time
in a barely noticeable rhythm all their own.

“What are you two doing?” A frown plastered across her face, Leah stood in the doorway.
“Annie, haven’t you finished that cake? John has gone to fetch Louise. They’ll be
here any minute.”

Annie’s face burned. Her whole body burned. She jerked back and Isaac’s hand dropped.
He picked up the glass of lemonade and turned to Leah. “This lemonade is
gut
. Did you make it?”

“Jah, well, it’s only lemonade.” Leah bustled past him and planted herself next to
Annie. “Luke and Thomas are talking about the trip—what they saw and about the land.
They’re trying to decide where the best place is to settle. I expect you’ll want to
hear about it,” she said to Isaac.

“I have no plans to leave Bliss Creek.” Isaac’s gaze landed squarely on Annie when
he said these words. His tone made them a promise. His gaze made them a promise to
her. “But I’ll leave y’all to finish up here. I don’t want to be in your way.”

Without haste, he strode from the room.

Annie grabbed the pastry bag and touched up the spot where Isaac had swiped the frosting.

“It’s about time.”

“What?” She concentrated on the frosting, knowing her sister-in-law stood close by,
judging.

“Noah needs a father. Even more when we leave and there is no man in the house to
teach him.” The emotion in her sister-in-law’s voice made Annie look up. Sadness etched
lines in Leah’s face. “This is a big place for one woman and a child.”

“This moving must be hard for you.” Annie wanted to go to Leah, but her sister-in-law
abhorred shows of emotion or physical affection. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t wait too long.” Leah would never acknowledge what she perceived to be weakness.
“A hard-working man like Isaac Gless can have the fraa of his choice.”

“Is that the baby crying?” This was private business between Isaac and her. Determined
not to think about it, Annie cocked her head. “Yours or mine?”

Leah shook her head, but she left the room all the same, as Annie knew she would.

Wiping her hands on the towel, she glanced around the kitchen. Green beans, rolls,
creamed corn, baked potatoes—all Aenti Louise’s favorites had been prepared with love.
Time to visit with family. Even if that meant living with Isaac’s knowing stare all
evening.

In the family room, Annie found Emma putting the finishing touches on the wrapping
of the gift she, Annie, and the other quilters had made for Aenti Louise—a lovely
Sunshine and Shadow quilt in bright maroons, blues, and a lighter mauve, along with
a crocheted blanket in a matching pale pink yarn. Glad the prohibition against wearing
bright colors didn’t extend to their quilt making, Annie touched the white tissue
paper. It crinkled under her fingers. Aenti Louise would love the pattern. It needed
bright colors to make the contrast work. And colors didn’t make the quilt any less
useful.

Her aunt never complained, but more often than not her frail body shivered with cold
because of poor circulation. Come winter, she would delight in the warmth provided
by the quilt and the blanket. At eighty-two, she seemed to be disappearing. There
was a little less of her to hug each time Annie saw her. Annie brushed away the thought,
along with the dark clouds that surrounded this anniversary. Today, they celebrated
the birthday of the oldest member of their family.

“Very nice!” she told her sister when she held up the wrapped box. “She’ll have no
idea what it is.”

“They’re here, they’re here!” William bolted into the room, reversed directions, and
headed for the door. “Onkel John is pulling the buggy up to the house. Daed says we
should all greet her on the porch.”

Smoothing her apron, Annie paused to lift Noah from his play pen. He gurgled and smacked
his hands together as if clapping. On the front porch, William popped up and down
like a jack-in-the-box next to his brother Joseph, who was chanting “happy birthday”
in a sing-song tone. These boys had none of their father’s calm, slow-as-molasses
approach to life. Nor Leah’s morose outlook. Maybe they were a throwback to Luke and
Annie’s daed and mudder, who so loved to celebrate these special occasions.