A Son's Vow (13 page)

H
e'd kept his word.

Lukas had come over and talked to Aaron. He hadn't lost his temper and he hadn't hurt anyone. He'd simply been the man Darla had always known him to be—stalwart, firm, impressive.

It was no wonder Lukas was the mark by which she measured every other man.

Ignoring the stares of Patsy and the rest of her siblings who were just steps behind her, Darla walked to him. As she approached, Lukas kept his expression carefully blank. Whether it was because he was uneasy or because he knew they were being watched, she didn't know. She was simply glad he was there.

“Hey,” he said at last.

“Hi. Do you have time to talk with me, or would you rather leave?” She didn't want to keep him here if he needed some distance from her family.

His features softened some, as if he was slightly amused by her question. “Of course I have time for you.”

Keeping her voice low, she gestured toward the porch. “I'd invite you into the
haus
or to sit here, but I'm afraid we'd get no privacy.”

“Your brother is in the barn, so that's out, too.”

She sighed. She wished Lukas was the type of man to ride around in a courting buggy, but he'd always preferred walking or riding his bike if he could. He used to say that he hated having to depend on an animal to cart him around town. Still, that would have been nice about now. She would love to leave her life for a few hours, and sitting by his side in a buggy would be the perfect solution.

“I'm not sure where to go,” she admitted.

He shrugged. “It's still warm. Why don't you walk me back down the driveway? We'll take our time.”

Luckily, she had on shoes. Bare feet would hurt on the gravel drive. “That sounds
gut
.”

After glancing at her family behind her, Lukas pressed a hand to the small of her back and guided her forward. After they walked a bit, he moved his hand from her waist to her shoulders and settled it there.

He was a big man and she was small. The weight of his arm should have felt heavy or confining. Instead, she felt cared for and protected. Better.

“This is nice. Ain't so?” he murmured.

“
Jah
. We've, um, never walked like this before.”

He smiled down at her, though his smile didn't quite meet his eyes. “You mean like a courting couple? Then it's about time, I think.”

She hardly knew what to say to that. “Are we courting now?”

“I did ask you to marry me today, Darla. It ain't my fault you said no.”

“I . . . I didn't think it was for the best.”

“Maybe.”

“You know I'm right.”

“
Nee
, I disagree. And now that I've asked you, I intend to make you say yes. One day.”

He looked as self-assured and confident as ever. Maybe even more so. As his words sank in, her mind started spinning. Again. She'd hurried out of the house, intending to stop a fight between him and Aaron. Instead, Aaron was gone and Lucas had been talking quietly with Patsy. Now, here they were, walking side by side and discussing his marriage proposal.

“I didn't expect us to be talking about marriage. I thought you'd want to talk about what you said to Aaron.”

He paused, looked down at her, as if he was weighing the pros and cons of that . . . then shook his head. “I don't think so.”

“Lukas,” she chided. “You can't simply make me wait.”

“All you need to know is that I told him what I thought about him hurting you. I feel certain he's going to stop. If he doesn't, we'll take things further . . . and you'll be moving in with me and my siblings, whether we're married or not.”

To say she was stunned by his high-handedness was an understatement. “Lukas Kinsinger, even if we were engaged, I wouldn't care for you to speak to me like this.”

“No?” His brows arched.

“Definitely not.”

“I'll remember that,” he said.

His words were all that was proper, but there was a new light
in his eyes. It was obvious that he liked the spark between them. It made her want to shake her head in wonder. Their interactions were as complex and ever-changing as the nighttime sky during a lightning storm. “Lukas, about Aaron . . .”

“Let's not discuss him anymore, okay? I need a break.”

“What do you want to talk about?”

To her surprise, he squeezed her shoulder, bringing her closer to his side. “Tell me how to tell the difference between Evan and Samuel.”

“That's what you want to talk about?”

“One of them was outside. It struck me that even after all these years, I still can't tell the difference. How do you know?”

She knew because she'd helped raise them. She knew because she just did. But she gave him a break. “Samuel now has a scar on his chin.”

“Yeah?”

“
Jah
. It's pretty visible. It's a good-sized scar.”

“How did he get it?”

“Horse kicked him.”

He winced. “Ouch.”

“Ouch, for sure,” Darla agreed. “Sam was out in the barn mucking stalls. Somehow he startled Jack and got it good in the chin. Mamm had to hitch up the buggy and get him to the clinic in town.”

“How many stitches?”

“Seven. Two of them were inside his cut! He's going to be scarred for life.”

Lukas grinned. “His misfortune means I'll be able to tell them apart now.”

“I guess that is a silver lining.”

They had passed the thicket of trees where she'd shown him her shoulder. Now they were standing next to the mailbox. Too far from the house for any of her family to see them. No one was on the road. They were as alone as they'd ever been.

Carefully, Lukas shifted her so she was facing him, then linked his arms around her waist. She braced her palms on his chest. They were standing too far apart for her to reach his shoulders. This new stance felt unfamiliar yet so nice. His shirt was warm against her palms.

“Do you think you're going to be able to sleep tonight?”

“I hope so.”

“I hope so, too.”

There was something new in his tone, something intimate and caring. She liked it.

But of course, it also brought back their previous conversation. “Lukas, about this marriage proposal,” she began hesitantly. “I don't know if you were just talking or—”

“I meant it, Darla,” he stated, looking at her intently. “One day you will say yes. One day you will agree that marriage between us is the right thing. One day you'll want me as much as I want you.”

“And then?”

“And then it will be a mighty good day. Well, at least for me.”

As she stared at him, he leaned close and pressed his lips to her brow. Pressed another kiss to her temple. Then her cheek. Then, just as she was wondering if he was going to kiss her on the lips—and wondering how she would respond—he brushed a light, quick kiss to the nape of her neck and pulled away. “Sleep well, Darla. See you soon.”

“
Jah
,” she said, feeling a bit breathless. “I mean,
gut nacht
.
And thank you,” she added as she watched him start down the street.

He looked back over his shoulder. “For what?”

“Everything.”

He smiled. “I'll take that.”

When he turned and started walking again, Darla was of a mind to stand and watch him. He'd been everything she'd been sure he could be today. He'd defended her against her brother. He'd protected her, too. He'd also been kind and earnest and fun. He'd teased her and talked to her and yes, he'd kissed her, too.

A part of her had been so tempted to grab ahold of him before he changed his mind. But then she'd remembered her responsibilities and their very different lives. Yes, they were both essentially orphans. They also had siblings to take care of. But while Rebecca, Amelia, and Levi were all adults, she had Patsy, Gretel, Maisie, and the twins. And Aaron—who was so angry and hurt that they couldn't trust him.

And because of that, her siblings had to trust that she would be there for them. No matter what.

What's more, she needed them, too. Just in case one day soon Lukas Kinsinger actually did change his mind and decided that she wasn't worth his trouble. Just in case.

T
WO DAYS LATER,
as Lukas looked around his office, heard the rumble of saws and sanders and the hundred other things that made the business run like clockwork, he decided the lumber mill was the last place he wanted to be. It was filled with too many people asking questions, too many people needing answers.

He was a man used to bearing a lot of responsibility on his
shoulders. Back when he was eight or nine, he'd come to terms with the fact that he was the eldest and therefore had to look after his siblings. When he'd started working at the mill at fourteen, his father had constantly reminded him that the mill was his legacy, his responsibility.

Though Lukas had been proud of his father's words, a part of him had always felt guilty that their
daed
had said those words to him and not to Levi. Because of that, and because he needed his brother more than ever before, he and Levi were attempting to divide their responsibilities. It was hard, though. He supposed giving up control always was.

Now, too, he was consumed by Darla's needs. And her refusal of his proposal. Oh, he knew he hadn't asked her in a romantic way, but didn't she see that his offer was good for her? She needed to accept and let him take care of her.

Jah
, they could go to the bishop, get permission to marry quickly, and he'd take her away for a bit. He would gladly let Levi handle everything for the next week. He could even ask some of his close friends to check on Patsy and the rest of Darla's siblings while they were gone. A week of freedom meant he could have a week without having to appear confident and in control. He could be himself with Darla. They could laugh about nothing and sit together late at night and simply enjoy the silence. She wouldn't expect him to have every answer. No, it was likely she would be telling him what to do!

A week's honeymoon would be a wonderful thing.
Wunderbaar
.

Since wishes and dreams were for children, he made due with a few hours. He needed it. Suddenly, everything in his life had become too much.

Keeping his head down, he walked right by the mill's entrance, steadfastly ignoring both the faint outline of Rebecca standing in the front window and the low hum of machines and men's voices. Harder to ignore was the strong smell of sawdust and pine that permeated the air. Usually those scents made him think of everything good and secure in his life. After all, he'd grown up linking family, work, and love with one specific place.

Now he was beginning to realize that he'd been sadly mistaken.

It was his father's presence that he'd been drawn to at the mill. It was his family and the friendships he'd had with other workers that he'd looked forward to each day.

And that comfortable sense of belonging he'd been so fond of had simply been his immaturity. He'd taken it for granted. It wasn't until his father was no longer there that he'd realized everything he felt for the mill had actually been the love he'd felt for his father. He missed him.

Lukas continued to walk beyond the town's limits. He pushed himself, increasing his pace, breathing harder through the hills and valleys of the countryside. Hardly aware of his surroundings, ignoring the dry creek bed to his right, the dense thicket of brush to his left. Finally, as sweat formed on his brow and his breath came in short spurts, he allowed himself to slow down. And in that moment, he remembered another walk he'd taken almost five years ago.

His mother had just died from a heart condition none of them had been aware she'd had. Everyone in the family had been mourning her loss, especially Amelia who had still needed a mother.

And his father, who they'd all known still needed a wife.

He and Levi and Rebecca had tried to help their father as much as they could, though their efforts had been dismal at best. No matter how much they'd tried, none of them could fill the gap in their father's life or comfort Amelia enough to convince her to stop crying.

And so, one day, feeling frustrated and sad and helpless, Lukas had pushed all his frustrations and needs aside and started walking. After wandering the fields, looking steadily forward, and ignoring everything in his periphery for almost an hour, he'd gotten winded. He'd stopped and stretched. Then glanced behind him and spied the green metal roof of their sprawling home.

And had felt nothing.

It was then he'd realized that their home hadn't meant anything anymore. It had been their mother's light that had illuminated the shadows and brought them so much joy. That realization had brought him to his knees.

There, kneeling on the ground, he'd cried at last. Though not for his little sister or his father's blank stare or even for their mother's pain. Instead, he'd cried for himself.

Yes, they'd been selfish tears, washing away nothing but his needs and wants and wishes. When they'd at last dried on his cheeks, he'd realized that he was going to simply have to try harder. He was going to need to work harder to help Amelia recover. He was going to have to wake up earlier and go to bed later so that he could help their
daed
complete everything that needed to be done.

Now it looked as if he was in the same situation. Though each of them looked as if they were handling things all right, he knew in many ways he and his siblings felt confused and
adrift. He needed to make sure somehow he got everyone back on track.

And along the way, he also needed to take care of Darla. The burdens were going to be heavy. He wondered if he was going to be strong enough to bear them. It would be a terrible thing to take on so much that he ended up hurting others instead of helping them.