A Man of His Word (29 page)

What was he doing with the money? Instantly suspicious, Gabe asked, “What’s going on here?”

Aaron slammed down the metal lid of the box. “You had a customer a few minutes ago. Came and picked up two of the sconces.”

“What was his name?”

Aaron’s complexion reddened. “I forgot. He needed change, and I had enough in my pocket. I was just paying myself back.”

“Why didn’t you get the cashbox and give him change from that?”

A guilty look crossed his face. “I—I didn’t think about it at the time. He seemed in a hurry.”

Gabe regarded him for a moment. He hadn’t heard a car pull up in front of the shop while he had been inside with his
daed
, nor had he heard a car pull away. Granted, he hadn’t shown Aaron how to use the cashbox either, although that was pretty simple and didn’t need any training. He could visualize Aaron digging in his pocket for change while trying to appease an impatient customer. Most of their customers, including outlanders, were fine, polite people. But every once in a while they’d get a rude one, and Gabe would respond as humbly as he could, as was the Amish way.

Gabe took the box from Aaron and opened the lid. “How much do you need?”

“I already got it.” Aaron stared down at the floor.

Shutting the box with a click, Gabe then opened the drawer of his father’s battered desk and put the box back in its usual place. “We need to get back to work.
Daed
will be out of commission for a while, so I need you to help me with the shoes.”

Aaron looked up with surprise. “What do you need me to do?”

For the rest of the afternoon Gabe and Aaron worked at completing the horseshoe order. They finished well after sundown. Gabe offered to drive Aaron home, but the younger man refused, saying he’d rather walk. Although the walk wasn’t all that far, he figured Aaron had to be exhausted. Still, he declined Gabe’s second offer to take him home and left the shop carrying a small, blue cooler that served as his lunchbox, a lone form disappearing into the darkness.

Dog-tired, Gabe dragged himself across the yard and into the kitchen, his stomach growling like a pack of wolves with a fresh kill. A small bubble of happiness burst inside when he saw a plate of food, covered with foil, warming on top of the woodstove. The scent of chicken stew, apples, and spices filled his nostrils and made his stomach growl. He tore off the foil, picked up the plate, then sat down and shoveled the food into his mouth. Once he finished eating, he would check on his father. Right now he had to tame the beast in his belly.

Just as he put the last mouthful of apple brown Betty into his mouth, Moriah walked into the room. He was surprised to see she was still here. She looked as equally surprised to see him in the kitchen.

“I see you found supper,” she said, walking to the table. She picked up his dishes and took them over to the sink.

“You don’t have to do that.” Gabe tried to take a glass from her hand, but she moved it out of his reach.

“Nonsense. I’ll just give them a quick wash before I leave.”

He picked up a dishtowel off the rack that hung near the sink. “Then I’ll dry.”

“
Danki
. I hate the drying part.” She handed him a wet dish.

“How’s
Daed
doing?”

“He’s sleeping in his old room. He wanted to go back to the
dawdi haus
, but I wouldn’t let him.”

“Good idea.”

“He seemed fine, though.”

“Because of your
gut
care.”

“Well, not just me. Rachel helped out too. He’s a tough one, I’ll say that for him.”

“
Ya
. He’s tough all right. He’s been through a lot.” Taking the fork Moriah offered him, he added, “We all have.”

She nodded and remained silent for a few moments, the only sound in the kitchen the clinking of the dishes in the sink. After Gabe had wiped the last dish, she turned to him. “I haven’t thanked you properly for checking up on me the past couple of weeks. But like I told your
daed
, it’s not necessary.”

“I know I don’t have to.” He turned and faced her. “Moriah, don’t you understand? I want to.”

Chapter 13

S
peech abandoned Moriah when she heard Gabriel’s words. He wanted to check up on her? Why would he want to do that? She could understand him dropping by once or twice, but he had come to see her at least three times a week since Levi had died. A faint tingling sensation rushed through her as he continued to hold her gaze, his chestnut-colored eyes filled with an emotion she couldn’t comprehend. Then it disappeared.

Gabriel cleared his throat as he turned away from her. “Uh, well, that didn’t take long,” he said, putting away the last dish. “Chores go by a lot faster when there are four hands working instead of two.”

“That they do.” She watched his profile for a moment, but exhaustion had been dogging her for the past hour or so. She didn’t have the strength to try to figure him out. Instead, she turned around and surveyed the kitchen, making sure everything was neat and tidy. She and Rachel had ignored his plea to not to clean anything, and between the two of them, the Millers now had a spotless house, an accomplishment that deeply satisfied her. Rachel had been a great help, and Moriah was very glad she had stopped by to visit. She truly liked the young woman, and hoped they could become closer friends.

When she was satisfied that everything the kitchen was in tiptop shape, she said, “There’s coffee cake for tomorrow’s breakfast; it’s wrapped in foil in the pantry. And there are some sandwiches for lunch. I put the chicken stew in the cooler; you can reheat that for supper tomorrow.”

“Wow.” Gabriel’s brows lifted as he grinned. “
Danki
, Moriah. Sounds like you were busy today.”

“I like staying busy. It . . . helps.”

His eyes met hers for a brief moment, and they both looked away. “I know. I’ve taken on more jobs than ever since Levi . . . since he passed. Although I wonder if that was a mistake.
Daed
might not have hurt his hand if he hadn’t felt he had to help me out.”

“Not everything is your fault, Gabriel.”

He frowned. “I know that.”

“Sometimes I wonder if you do. Is that why you’ve been coming by so often? Out of a sense of guilt? Or do you just feel obligated?” She was too tired to worry about the edge in her voice. She didn’t want to be someone’s obligation, especially not Gabriel’s. Obviously he had more than enough to do. He didn’t need to waste time driving out to see her.

“
Nee
.” His smile faded and his forehead furrowed with consternation. “Look, I just told you I wanted to see you. But if you don’t want me coming around . . . I don’t want to be a bother, Moriah.”

Remorse pricked at her, and she closed her eyes for a moment. She shouldn’t have spoken to him that way. He’d been nothing but kind to her, and this was how she repaid him, by hurting his feelings. “I’m sorry. I really do appreciate you thinking of me. It’s nice to know someone cares.”

His eyes suddenly softened, and she found herself transfixed by them. “I do care,” he said.

“Because we’re family. And friends. At least I’d like to think we are.”

“We are. But that’s not the only reason—”

Before he could finish his sentence, she was assaulted by a stab of pain similar to the one she had experienced that morning. She bent over and tried to catch her breath.

“Moriah?” Gabriel immediately came to her side, his arm around her shoulders, his body bent in a similar shape to hers. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know.” The pain subsided, disappearing almost as quickly as it came. When she didn’t feel anything else, she slowly straightened.

“What, is it a cramp or something?”

“Maybe.”

“Here, sit down.” He guided her over to a chair and held it out for her. “Do you need to put your feet up?”

“My feet are fine.” Actually, she felt completely fine now, at least physically. But the alarm she’d felt earlier that day multiplied tenfold. However, she wouldn’t let Gabriel know. He looked worried enough as it was.

“Has this been happening a lot?”

“Only one other time.” She didn’t feel the need to tell him when.

He knelt down beside her. “Do you want a glass of water? Maybe some crackers or something? You shouldn’t have worked so hard today.”

She found his hovering slightly amusing. And a little surprising. He’d been so aloof during the time she and Levi had been together. And even though they’d grieved together at the hospital and funeral, their subsequent visits had been awkward—at least she thought so, with Gabe saying very little when he stopped by. But she was carrying his niece or nephew; of course he’d be concerned.

“I didn’t work that hard,” she said, trying to reassure him. “And the pain is gone.” All of a sudden she felt another sensation, one she had never felt before. Excited and without thinking about it, she grabbed his hand and placed it on her belly. “Can you feel that?”

His hand twitched and he grinned. “Wow.”

She nodded, thrilled with the movement she felt inside her. Then she looked down at her hand covering his, and another familiar feeling intruded on the happy moment. Sorrow. Levi should be here, feeling his baby’s light movements. He should be sharing this moment with her, not Gabriel.

But she hid her emotions for Gabriel’s sake. His face shone with joy. She wouldn’t destroy that for him. They both had so little to rejoice about, and had lost so much—she a husband, him a brother. She had become adept at burying her feelings, shoving them deep down inside until she thought they were completely gone, but even then they often appeared when she least expected it, like now. Yet she suppressed them again, not only for his sake, but also for her own.

“
Danki
.”

His soft voice interrupted her thoughts.

“For what?”

“For sharing this with me.” He slipped his hand out from beneath hers and stood up. “That was pretty special.”

She smiled, amazed at how affected he seemed to be. “I’m glad you were here to share it. Although I wish . . .”

“I know.” His expression dimmed. “I wish he was here too.”

Not wanting to dwell on their mutual sadness, she rose from her seat. “I really have to get home. I’m sure
Mami
is starting to worry about me.” She smoothed the front of her apron.

“I’m taking you home.”

“That’s not necessary.”

“
Ya
, it’s necessary. What if you have another pain? Plus it’s dark and you could get into an accident.”

“I’ve driven in the dark before,” she said, a little impatiently. What did he think she was, some frail flower whose stem would snap off in a light breeze? Her parents and siblings seemed to think so. Even Rachel had earlier in the day. But anyone can drop a rolling pin. That didn’t mean she wasn’t capable of doing anything for herself. “I’m not helpless.”

“I’m not saying you are. Remember what happened to Tobias a couple months ago? I won’t let you risk yourself or the baby because some Yankee doesn’t know how to drive a car.”

She recalled the buggy accident, remembering how lucky Tobias and Rachel had been, considering her brother had sustained only a bump on the head. They could have been seriously hurt . . . or worse. She couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to her baby. “All right. You’ve convinced me.”

“
Gut
. I’m glad you’ve come to your senses.” He winked at her, a gesture similar to what Levi used to do when he would tease her, yet somehow completely different. Then again, why wouldn’t it be? Even though they looked nearly exactly alike, as she was so often reminded, Gabriel was nothing like his brother.

Gabriel grabbed his summer hat, made of tightly woven straw, and plopped it on his head. He opened the door for her, and they walked into the balmy night air. He opened the buggy door on the passenger side and helped her in, then untied his horse and jumped beside Moriah on the seat. Within minutes they started toward her house.

Once the buggy was in motion, she leaned back in the seat. Fatigue instantly overcame her, and she closed her eyes. Only for a moment. She just needed a minute of rest.