Thankful (19 page)

“There's no need to go to so much trouble. I don't have much, anyway.”

Martha raised her brows. “You have enough. Definitely too much for one person to try to carry up those rickety steps.”

He wasn't quite sure what she was talking about, since he'd come to the Kempf house with nothing but his clothes and a few personal items. “I can manage a couple of duffel bags of clothes, Martha.”

“You have much more than that, Aden! You have your bed and dresser. You have the kitchen table that's up in storage in the barn.” Finally warming up to the topic, she added, “I'll look around some other places, too. I seem to remember that we might have a pair of chairs in the basement that I've been anxious to replace.”

“I can't take those things.”

“Why on earth not?”

“They're yours, not mine.”

“We're giving them to you, Aden.”

“But don't you think they should go to your own
kinner
instead of me?”

Looking over him carefully, her usually melodic voice turned snippy. “Well, my goodness. I must say I'm mighty disappointed in you, Aden Reese.”

“Why?”

Still frowning and looking put-upon, she continued. “After everything I've done for you, I never thought I'd hear you talk like this.” She waved a hand in front of her chest. Practically acting like she was about to have a heart attack.

“I think you're being a little dramatic there, Martha.”

“Not hardly. Here for ten years, Joe and I have done everything we could think of to make sure you knew you were an important part of this family.”

“I know you have—”

Her voice turned a little more strained. A little more plaintive. “Why, we gave you that bed when you came to us. You always said you slept
gut
on it.”

“I did. I mean, I have.”

“Then you must understand that there's no way I would ever let you continue on your way without it.” She waved a hand in the direction of the dark bedroom's doorway. “If you are going to insist on sleeping in this place, I certainly am not going to let you sleep on the floor.”

“I wasn't going to sleep on the floor. I was going to go to Millers and order a bed.”

“You were going to buy one? I think not.”

“All right, Martha. I hear you.
Danke
.”

“And you will accept the other things, too.”

“You're not worried that Nate or Henry will want those things?”

“
Nee
. I am not. Don't make me argue with you, Aden.”

“I don't want to argue with you, either.”

“Gut.”
Looking a bit mollified now that she'd gotten her way, Martha clasped her hands together. “Now, all this brings us to another thing. All of us girls will come over here tomorrow and help you clean.”

Not only would he feel horrible about bringing them extra work, there was something about the thought of Christina washing out his shower or kitchen sink that gave him the willies. “That is not necessary.”

She sighed dramatically. “Aden, must we go through this all over again?“

Looking into her eyes, he realized that his adoptive mother was determined to get her way. “Of course not. I will be thankful for your help.”

“
Gut
. That's more like it. Now, walk me down the stairs. I never thought I'd say this, but I just don't think I'm brave enough to go down those narrow, rickety stairs by myself.”

“Of course. I had intended to help you.” As he took her arm, he guided her down the steep and rickety wooden steps. His new landlord had promised that the steps would be repaired shortly. But in the meantime they were one step away from being blown down by a fierce wind.

After they got downstairs, they walked down the narrow alley that led to Main Street. “What are you doing now?”

“I'm going to head over to the Grabers' store. I saw Joshua Graber at church and he told me they got a new shipment of fabric in last week. I thought I'd take a look at it while I wait for Christina to get done with her walk.”

“Walk? You mean
work
, right?”

“
Nee
, I mean
walk
. Christina was asked to take a walk after work.”

“It's freezing outside. Who would want to do that?”

“A man who wants to go courting, I imagine,” she retorted.

“Wait a minute. She's being courted?”

“Well, now, I don't know if that is quite what is happening. She met a man at work, you see. Today he asked her to take a walk with him. When I stopped over to see her while you were in the bank she told me about it.”

“He's a stranger and you're letting her spend time with him?”

“It's not like I have a lot of choice. You know Christina. She's a woman who knows her mind.”

“But she doesn't always make the best decisions.”

“No, she seems to have a pretty level head.” She looked at him curiously. “Aden, why are you so upset about this? There's nothing wrong with going for a little walk in the afternoon. And Christina is of age. It had to happen sooner or later.”

“I'm not upset. Just concerned.” Aden knew he was acting a bit proprietary. The right thing to do was to not say another word about this. As it was, he was making his adoptive mother very amused. And he was sure that looking back on things in a few hours he was going to be embarrassed about his runaway mouth. But some things couldn't be helped.

“It's sweet of you to be so concerned, but I think you're worrying over nothing. Christina said they spoke a time or two at the restaurant.”

If he was a regular at the restaurant he had to be local. “Who is it? Do you know him? What is his name?”

“He's no one I know. Believe it or not, he goes by the name of Christy.”

“Christy?” He relaxed a bit. Obviously, Martha had things a little mixed up. Most likely Christina was going for a little stroll or shopping trip with one of her girlfriends. “Martha, I'm thinking you got a little confused. Christy is definitely a girl's name.”

“To be sure it is. But in this case, Christy is short for Christopher. He told Christina that he was named after an uncle, and that he had a cousin with the same name.”

“I think that's odd.”

She shrugged. “I had a cousin that we all called ‘Red Jim' because he had red hair. You know how these things go.” Scratching her head, she mused, “Come to think of it, I think Joe had a similar situation with some of his cousins.”

Aden was hardly paying any attention to Martha's chatter. He was still trying to get his head around the fact that Christina was going to be spending time with another man. “Well, it just seems a bit rash, letting Christina be alone in the company of a boy no one knows.”

“I don't think he's a boy, dear. Christina said he looked to be just a year or two older. But I'm sure we'll hear more about it later. I mean, I will. When I pick her up in an hour.”

She sounded a little aggrieved by the thought of waiting . . . which was all the opening he needed. “You know, there's no reason for you to hang around town all this time. I'll be happy to wait for her.”

“Aden, there's no need. You are a busy man. I'm sure you've got a dozen things planned to take care of in order for you to move into your apartment here.”

“I'll be able to get a lot of things done while I wait for Christina.”

When she looked as if she was about to argue some more, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Please let me do this. I like watching out for her.”

Her expression softened as she leaned into his brief hug. “I know you do, Aden. And just between you and me? I do believe she likes you looking out for her.” With a little shake of her head, she added, “I honestly don't know what Christina is going to do when you leave us. Sometimes, I fear it's going to break her heart.”

The lump in his throat had returned. “We'll see you in a few hours.”

“Be careful in the weather.” She scurried down the street before he could say another word, which he was thankful for.

C
hristy was nice. He was friendly and had a lot of information about all sorts of topics. So far, in the fifteen minutes that they'd spent together, he'd told Christina about his produce company, the proper way to fertilize roses, and how destructive deer and rabbits can be.

She'd agreed with him on all sorts of things, mainly as a way to keep him talking.

Because she'd learned after five minutes that Christy Fisher was nothing like Aden Reese. It seemed finding the right man—correction, make that another right man besides Aden—was going to be a bit more difficult than she'd imagined it would be.

Now, as they traipsed up and down Main Street, bundled up against the westerly wind that Christy said was full of the smell of new snow, avoiding shoppers and brown and gray piles of old snow that littered the sides of the sidewalk, Christina wondered how much longer it would be until they'd walked a full hour.

“Now, I've tried a variety of organic fertilizers, though nothing works quite as well as chicken droppings on my prize rosebushes,” Christy intoned.

She winced. She knew enough about chickens to not be enamored of anything about them. She'd also cleaned enough coops to prefer not to hear anything about chicken poop and roses.

Feeling more weary by the minute, she glanced toward the Grabers' store. Her mother was over there looking at fabric. Though it might be a bit rude, Christina decided it was time to tell a white lie and cut things short. “I'm so sorry, but I'm afraid it's time for me to go.”

“Why?”

“Well, my
mamm
is over at the Grabers'. I don't want to keep her waiting. Especially if there's snow coming, you know.”

Christy looked up at the sky. “When I said snow was on the way, I didn't mean right this minute.” He frowned. “Let's walk a little farther. I want to spend more time together.”

“That's mighty sweet of you to say.”

“I'm not being sweet. I mean it. I want to get to know you better. Here I've been talking so much, I've hardly learned anything about you.”

“Um. Well . . .”

“Christina? There you are.”

She stilled. And almost smiled. She would know that voice anywhere. Turning, she saw Aden walking toward them with a forest-green wool scarf wrapped around his black coat's collar.

“Hi, Aden. I didn't know you were in town today.”

“I needed to look at my new apartment.” He smiled. “Actually Martha wanted to see it.”

“Mamm went over there? What did she say? Did it pass inspection?”

“Of course not.” He grinned at her.

Which, unfortunately, made her smile, too.

Before she remembered that she wasn't going to smile at him so easily anymore. “Well, um, I was just going for a walk.”

“So I see.” Aden's expression hardened.

Christy raised his brows. “I don't think we've met before. Name's Christopher Fisher.”

“Aden Reese.”

“And you are one of Christina's friends?”

“I'm a little more than that.”

Christina inwardly winced. How did one describe Aden? “Aden lives with us. With my family. He's almost like a brother.”

Christy relaxed. “Oh. A brother. That's
gut
. For a minute there I thought you were a suitor.”

“I do live with Christina and her family, but I am nothing like her
bruder
. At all.”

Christy's eyes widened. “Ah. I think I'm beginning to understand now.”

“I hope so,” Aden said as he reached out and clasped her elbow.

“Aden!”

“I'm sorry, but your walk was over, right?”

“Well . . .”

“Because I told your
mamm
that I'd take you home.” Before either she or Christy could reply to that, Aden continued. “So, we should probably get going. We don't want anyone to worry.”

Christina wasn't sure if she wanted to yell at Aden or laugh. “Christy, I'm sorry to cut our walk a little short.”

“Are you sure you want to leave with him? I mean, I could take you home.”

“I think not,” Aden said before she could reply. “Taking Christina home should be a job for family.”

“Or even almost family, it seems,” Christy said, his voice dry.

“Thank you for taking me on the walk,” she said softly before letting herself be dragged away by Aden.

The other man barely had time to raise a hand in farewell before Aden directed her down toward the livery.

When they'd walked half a block, she looked up at him. “Aden, you were mighty rude. What was that all about?”

“It was exactly as I said. I told Martha that I'd take you home.”

“And?”

“And I thought someone in your family should meet a man called Christy.”

“If you thought that way, you shouldn't have come to get me. As we've discussed, you are not family.”

“I am definitely not your brother, but I know you well.”

“And?”

“And I care about you, that's what.”

“Do you? Or are you just biding time until you and your English nurse become serious?”

“Janice has nothing to do with this.”

“Christy doesn't, either.”

“Good.”

Christina sighed. Part of her was more than ready to ask him a hundred questions. To ask him for some explanations. To ask him why he'd been so possessive and rude to Christy.

But instead she kept her silence. She was pretty sure that there was more to his story than he was prepared to tell her or she was prepared to hear.

Since Aden seemed just as content to keep his thoughts to himself, she imagined he was feeling the very same way.

chapter eighteen