A Man of His Word (10 page)

Rachel suddenly jumped from her seat. “You are the most
infuriating
person I have ever met.”

“Wow. That’s a big word,” he said drolly. “You been reading the dictionary in your spare time?”

“Ooh,” she said, going to him. She poked him in the chest. “You are
seltsam
, Tobias Byler!”

He grasped her hand midpoke, not even caring that she had called him weird. Instead of letting go of it, he held on. His own hands were rough, scarred, and gouged from working with wood since he was a child. Her hands, in contrast, were small and soft, with slender fingers that he had a sudden urge to intertwine with his own. Their gazes instantly met, and for the life of him he couldn’t move away from her, even if he wanted to. Which he didn’t.

“Nothing better on a cold winter morning than coffee and sticky buns,” Sarah’s voice sounded in the hallway, as if she were warning them of her approach.

They both jumped apart, Rachel snatching her hand out of his grip and flinging herself into the chair. Tobias looked at Sarah as she entered the room and placed the tray on the coffee table. While she settled herself on the sofa, he gave Rachel a quick glance, and was surprised to see the blush blooming on her cheeks, making her look even prettier than before.

Sarah looked up and directed her attention to Rachel, a frown forming on her lips. “Are you feeling all right, daughter? You look flushed.”

Her mother’s comment seemed to only intensify the reddening of Rachel’s face. “I’m fine.”

Suddenly, his pleasure at putting her on edge disappeared, replaced by a tiny bit of shame, and a large dose of confusion. Since when did he have the urge to hold her hand, especially since everyone knew she and Christian were courting?

The parlor, which had been so welcoming and comfortable minutes before, now seemed stuffy and claustrophobic. He scrambled up from his chair, assailed by an uncontrollable urge to get out of there. When he started to speak, the words came out in a foggy croak, so he cleared his throat and tried again. “I gotta go,
Frau
Detweiler.”

Surprise crossed Sarah’s features, her blue eyes so similar to Rachel’s. “So soon? You haven’t even had your coffee yet. Surely you can stay for just a little while.”

“I know, but I just remembered I promised
Daed
I would do something for him.” He grappled for a more thorough explanation, but his mind went blank. “Something important” was all he could come up with. He nodded toward the tray. “I’m sorry to put you to so much trouble.
Danki.
I appreciate the hospitality.” Spinning on his sock-clad heel, he dashed to the front door, yanked on his boots, and grabbed his hat, then flew down the steps to his buggy. He slapped the reins on the horse’s flanks.

As the horse and buggy sprinted home, he felt a tingle in his hand. The hand that had held Rachel’s. He glanced down at it, remembering how much he liked the feel of Rachel’s skin against his.

Dummkopf
. He should have never accepted
Frau
Detweiler’s invitation. Now she probably thought he’d lost his mind. With a hard shake of his head, he tried to clear the scene from his mind. If Rachel’s mother thought he was crazy, she wasn’t the only one.

“What on earth has gotten into that boy?”

Rachel shrugged, but she didn’t look at her mother.

“Did you two have a fight? Rachel, look at me.” Sarah moved closer to her daughter. “Did he say something to you?”

“
Nee
,
Mudder
,” she replied, hoping her mother didn’t notice that Rachel’s face was perilously close to exploding with embarrassment. As if that wasn’t bad enough, she was dealing with some other emotion she couldn’t define. A tickling, yet tingling sensation that started as soon as Tobias had touched her hand. “He’s just
seltsam
.”

Sarah frowned, the parentheses-shaped lines around her mouth deepening. “That’s not a nice thing to say, Rachel Anne. It doesn’t matter how you feel about someone, when they are a guest in your home, you are to treat them with kindness and respect. Part of the duties of a good wife is to make her home a welcoming place. Not just for family, but for the community. Tobias is a part of this community, whether you like it or not.”

Properly chastised, Rachel leaned back in the chair. “Sorry.”

With a nod, Sarah picked up the untouched tray from the coffee table. “Besides, it doesn’t hurt to keep your prospects open.”

Rachel popped up from her chair. “What do you mean?”

“In case things don’t work out with Christian.”

“Things are fine with Christian.” At least she thought they were. True, their relationship was building slowly . . . very slowly. Probably at a slower pace than she had expected. But that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. She and Christian both needed to be sure about their feelings for each other before they became serious. They were suitably matched—they had a deep connection to their families and faith, they enjoyed reading, and . . . well, she knew there were more things they had in common, she just couldn’t think about them right now. One thing she did know for sure, Christian was better for her than Tobias could ever be.

“Don’t be surprised if he changes his mind,” Sarah said.

“Tobias?”

“
Christian
,” Sarah said as she walked out the door. “Men can be fickle, you know.”

Rachel fell back in her chair. She didn’t know about men and their inconsistencies. In fact, she knew very little about men at all. True, she had brothers, but they were all several years older than her, except for Aaron. While her friends in school had spent their younger teen years crushing on one boy or another—with Tobias as the object of their affections at some point—she had focused on schoolwork and grades. Her diligence paid off, she had made straight As all through her school career. While she was proud of that accomplishment, her singular devotion to her studies—and her relentless competitive streak—had come at the expense of some of her friendships. Then she took that same ambition and applied it to her job at Mary Yoder’s Kitchen, not paying much attention to the social opportunities she might be missing.

For the first time she regretted not being a little less ambitious and a little more pacifying. Then she might have gained an insight or two on how men ticked. Or maybe not. Maybe this had nothing to do with her, and everything to do with Christian.

Was he having second thoughts about their relationship? The good Lord knew she had more than a few.

Rising from her chair, she straightened up a small pile of Family Life magazines on the end table and began fluffing the already full sofa pillows. She should have a talk with Christian. A serious talk, not the superficial conversations they normally had. She should find out what his intentions truly were. When she agreed to date him, she had done so with an open mind and—she hoped—an open heart. But every time they were together, it seemed they treated each other more as friends than romantic interests. Her mother had probably picked up on that as well.

“Rachel?”

Rachel turned around to see her mother poke her head in the doorway of the parlor. “
Ya
?”

“When you’re finished in here, I need you to clean the upstairs bedrooms.”

“Aaron’s too?”

“
Ya
. You do such a wonderful job, even better than I do.” Sarah smiled. “Your husband will be very lucky indeed to have such a good housekeeper.”

Rachel managed a half smile and wondered if her mother had lost her mind.
Mami
was clearly obsessed with Rachel’s future marriage—when or if it ever happened.

But her mother’s compliment about her cleaning skills warmed her; Rachel abhorred untidiness and had always kept her room in order. Still, she didn’t relish straightening up Aaron’s room. She wondered if he was even out of bed, despite it being midmorning. Since his return from jail, her parents had been dealing with him as if he were made of thin glass. They said it was because he was still in drug recovery, but Rachel was keenly aware of the difference between the way they treated her and her older brothers, though her brothers now were married and out of the house.

The bulk of the chores often fell to her, even more so after Aaron had fallen in with a bad crowd during his
rumspringa
. He had been belligerent, lazy, and argumentative, especially with their parents, something she had never done. While she had experimented with a few forbidden things during her own
rumspringa
, such as borrowing one of those little music players and trying on one of her Yankee friend’s makeup, she didn’t have the rebellious streak her brother possessed. Since his return, he had stayed holed up in his room for the most part, and she hadn’t talked to him much. If anyone asked her to describe her brother, she doubted she could do it, other than give just a physical description. She didn’t know him anymore.

Yet she still had to clean his room.

As she passed by the front door on the way to the stairs, she heard someone knocking. Glad for the reprieve, however slight, she turned around and answered it, surprised to see Gabriel Miller standing at the front door.

“Good morning, Rachel.”

“Good morning, Gabe. What can I do for you?”

“Is Aaron around?”

“Why don’t you come in?” she offered, remembering her mother’s words about hospitality. “I haven’t seen him this morning, but I’ll check upstairs.”

“
Danki
.”

“Would you like to sit down in the parlor? I could bring you a cup of coffee. We have some sticky buns too.”

“No, I’m fine. But thank you. I’ll just wait here.”

Rachel dashed up the stairs and stopped in front of her brother’s room. The door was shut, so she knocked. Even though she didn’t strike the door very hard, it opened in response. She expected to see him asleep in bed, but his bed was already made, their grandmother’s black-and-white quilt neatly pulled over it. She stepped inside and saw him sitting in a chair beside the only window, staring out into the barren, snow-covered field behind the house. Unsure of her brother’s mood, she looked around the room. Nothing amiss. A small chest of drawers sat next to the tiny closet. A round, braided rug, made by their mother from pieces of leftover, faded rags, covered the middle of the wood-planked floor.

“Gabe Miller’s here to see you,” she said in a soft voice.

Slowly he turned around and faced her, his expression blank, as it had been since he’d returned from jail. Without verbally responding, he pushed back his chair and walked passed her to exit the room. Not even a single thank-you for her trudging up the stairs to fetch him.

A passage from Romans entered her mind as she battled the resentment rising within her. “Do not let the sun go down on your anger.” Easy for Paul to say.

As she thought more on the passage, her ire cooled. She really did need to work on managing her anger. It seemed she’d been more and more volatile lately and didn’t fully understand why.

Well, might as well clean Aaron’s room while I’m here.
Examining the small space, she searched for what needed to be cleaned and straightened. After five minutes she realized, surprisingly, that there was nothing for her to do. He had done it all.

“I need someone four days a week.” Gabe and Aaron stood on the Detweilers’ front porch, Aaron in a simple broadcloth shirt, pants, and socks. Gabe figured the boy must be freezing, but if he was, he didn’t say anything. Instead he silently listened to Gabe’s offer, nodding in understanding every once in a while.