Second Chance Amish Bride. Marta Perry
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let go of Caleb reluctantly and went to the drawer for silverware. Timothy raced to get there first, yanking so hard the drawer would have fallen out if Jessie hadn’t grabbed it.
“Ach, you’re a strong boy,” she said, a bit of laughter in the words. “Best let Becky hand you the things, ain’t so?” She smiled at Becky, but his daughter just set her lips together and proceeded with the job. Even at her young age, Becky had a mind of her own.
Zeb pushed Caleb’s chair to the back room that had been intended as a sewing room for Alice. The hospital bed looked out of place, but Caleb knew it would be easier to get into and out of than a regular bed.
Once they were inside, Caleb reached back to pull the door closed so no one could overhear. He swung to face his uncle.
“What is she doing here?” he demanded.
Onkel Zeb shrugged, spreading his hands wide. “She just showed up. Seems like word got to Ohio about your getting hurt, and Jessie said she thought she was needed.”
“Well, she’s not.” Caleb clamped down on the words. “We’ll do fine without her, so she can just take tomorrow’s bus right back again.”
“Ach, Caleb, you can’t do that.” His uncle’s lean, weathered face grew serious. “Stop and think. What would folks think if you turned your wife’s kin out of the house? What would the bishop and ministers say?”
“I don’t want her here.” He spun the chair to stare, unseeing, out the window. “I don’t need any reminders of what Alice did.”
“What Alice did, not Jessie,” Zeb reminded him. “It’s not Jessie’s fault. She wants only to help, maybe thinking she can make up a little for what her cousin did.”
“She can’t.” He bit out the words. It was easy telling himself that he had to forgive Alice. It wasn’t easy to do it.
“Even so, you’ll have to agree to let her stay for a short visit, at least.” His uncle pulled the chair back around to give Caleb the look that said he meant business. “I’ll not have you hurting the woman for someone else’s wrongdoing.”
Onkel Zeb hadn’t often given orders to Caleb and his brothers, even though he’d shared the raising of them. But when he did, they listened.
Caleb clenched his jaw, but he nodded. “All right. A short visit—that’s all. Then Jessie has to go.”
* * *
With Caleb out of the room, Jessie discovered that she could breathe again. She hadn’t realized how hard this would be.
Caleb had changed over the years, just as she had. She’d first seen him on the day he’d met her cousin, and a lot of years had passed since then. His hair and beard were still the color of a russet apple, and his cheeks were ruddy despite his time in the hospital.
But the blue eyes that had once been wide and enthusiastic seemed frosty now, and lines etched their way across his face. Lines of pain, probably, but maybe also of grief and bitterness. Who could wonder at that, after what Alice had put him through?
Guilt grabbed her at the thought of the cousin who had been like her own little sister. She’d been meant to take care of Alice, but she’d failed.
A clatter of plates brought her back to the present with a jolt, and she hurried to the kinder. “Let me give you a hand with those,” she said, reaching for the precarious stack Becky was balancing.
“I can do it myself.” Becky jerked the plates away so quickly they almost slid onto the floor. She managed to get them to the round pine table and plopped them down with a clank. “I don’t need help.” She shot Jessie an unfriendly look.
Had Becky picked up her father’s attitude already? Or maybe she saw herself as the mother of the little family now that Alice was gone. Either way, Jessie supposed she’d best take care what she said.
“We can all use a bit of help now and then,” she said easily. “I’m not sure where there’s a bowl for the chicken pot pie. Can you help me with that?”
Timothy ran to one of the lower cabinets and pulled the door open. “This one,” he announced, pointing to a big earthenware bowl. “That’s the one for chicken pot pie. Ain’t so, Becky?”
He looked for approval to his big sister, and when she nodded, he gave Jessie an engaging grin. “See?”
“I do see. That’s just right, Timothy. Do you like chicken pot pie?”
Still smiling, he nodded vigorously. “And cherry pie, too.” He glanced toward the pie she’d left cooling on the counter.
Jessie took the bowl, smiling in return at the irresistible little face. Timothy, at least, was friendly. Probably he wasn’t old enough to remember much about his mother, so her leaving and her death hadn’t affected him as much as Becky.
She began ladling out the fragrant mix of chicken and homemade noodles. The men would doubtless be back and hungry before long. Even as she thought it, Jessie heard the door of Caleb’s room open and the murmur of voices.
“Let’s get those hands washed for supper,” she told Timothy. “I hear Daadi coming.” She reached out to turn on the water in the sink, but Becky pushed her way between Jessie and her brother.
“I’ll do it.” She frowned at Jessie. “He’s my little bruder.”
Jessie opened her mouth, found herself with nothing to say and closed it again. Her mother’s voice trickled into her mind, and she saw again the worried look on her mother’s face.
“I wish you wouldn’t go. You’ll be hurt.”
Well, maybe so, but she couldn’t let that stop her from doing what was right. She had to atone for the wrongs Alice had done, and if she was hurt in the process, it was probably what she deserved. Given Becky’s attitude, she didn’t doubt that Alice’s daughter was hurting inside, too.
The hustle of getting food on the table was a distraction when Caleb and his uncle returned to the kitchen. Zeb went to the back door and rang the bell on the porch. Almost before its clamor had stilled, Caleb’s brother Daniel came in, pausing to slap Caleb on the back.
“So you’re home at last. I thought I would have to sneak you out of that hospital.”
Caleb’s face relaxed into the easygoing smile Jessie remembered from his younger self. “You just want to have more help around here, that’s all.”
“Can’t blame me for that. I’ve got the carpentry business to run, remember? I can’t spend all my time milking cows.”
Daniel’s gaze landed on Jessie, and he gave her a slightly quizzical look. He’d already greeted her when she’d arrived, so he wasn’t surprised to find her there as Caleb had been. Maybe he was wondering how Caleb had taken her arrival. If so, she didn’t doubt he’d soon see the answer to that question.
She’d have known Caleb and Daniel were brothers even if she’d never seen the two of them before. Their lean, rangy bodies and strong faces were quite similar, though Daniel’s hair was a bit darker and of course he didn’t have a beard, since he’d never married.
That was strange enough to be remarked on in the Amish community. At twenty-eight, Daniel was expected to have started a family of his own. She’d heard from the talkative driver who brought her from the bus station that folks around here said the three King brothers had soured on women because of their mother’s desertion. If that were true, she couldn’t imagine Alice’s actions had helped any.
There was another brother, too, the youngest. But Aaron’s name was rarely mentioned, so Alice had told her once. He’d jumped the fence to the Englisch world a few years ago and hadn’t been back since as far as she knew. Nothing about the King boys was typical of Amish males, it seemed.
Jessie found herself seated between Zeb and Timothy, and she scanned the table