A Place of His Own (21 page)

Rachel scrunched her nose. “
Nee. Nee, nee, nee.
You see what he did to me.”

“That was an accident,” Sarah said, glancing over her shoulder.

“Maybe.”

“I'm sure he feels terrible about it.” Sarah turned around and folded the handkerchief into a small, neat square, then laid it next to the sink.

“That's the problem,
Mudder
. I don't think Tobias feels anything. About anything. He just floats through life, without a care in the world, thinking all he needs is his charm and good looks.”

“Oh, so you think he's charming?” her mother said teasingly.

“I didn't say that.” She swiveled in her chair so she could face her mother directly. “I never said he was charming.”

“But you have to admit he's good-looking.”

“I'm not admitting anything!” Now it was Rachel's turn to be exasperated. She turned back around, the pain in her leg growing more intense. She heard the soft ruffle of her mother's skirt as she neared.

Sarah put her hand on Rachel's shoulder. “There's no reason to get upset about this. I keep forgetting you don't like to be teased. Much like your
bruder
, Aaron.”

“I am nothing like Aaron.”

“
Ach
, I think you are more alike than either of you are willing to admit.” She walked around Rachel's chair until she stood in front of her. She touched her cheek. “Just know that your
daed
and I love you. You are our only
dochder
, and we want what's best for you.”

“Which is to get married.”

Her mother smiled, her grayish eyes twinkling. “
Ya
, Rachel. You are of age now to at least be thinking about your future, which should include a husband.”

Rachel expelled a heavy breath. She had no argument, because her mother was right. Deep down, she wanted to get married and have a family. Not necessarily right away, but eventually. At the moment she was happy and successful enough in her job as a waitress at Mary Yoder's Amish Kitchen. There really wasn't any urgency to find a suitable mate, even though her mother obviously felt otherwise.

The kitchen door slammed shut. Both women turned to see Christian walk into the room. “Ready?” he asked, looking at Rachel.

She hadn't expected him back so soon. He must have hitched up his buggy in record time.

“I can carry you, if you want,” he added, looking directly at her.

Rachel couldn't believe he'd asked her that, especially in front of her mother, who would eagerly blow any hint of prospective romance for her daughter into epic proportions. But then she caught the teasing spark in his eyes, and she relaxed. “
Nee
, I can manage to walk to the buggy, thank you very much.”

Sarah helped Rachel to her feet. “Your
daed
will be home soon to check on you. I will stay late and help Emma with the cleanup, but tell Aaron I'll bring him a plate home for supper.” She gave Christian one of her trademark sweet smiles. “I know I'm leaving you in
gut
hands.”

Rachel's cheeks burned. Could she be more obvious?

Fortunately Christian hadn't caught her meaning, or if he had, he graciously chose not to say anything. As her mother opened the door to the front room of the house, Rachel heard voices intermingling, then muffling when the door closed again.

Rachel fought the urge to breathe out a sigh of relief. She loved her mother, but that didn't mean she wasn't occasionally embarrassed by her. Taking a step forward, she winced as pain shot up her leg.

“Here, let me help you.” Christian came up beside her and wrapped his arm around her waist.

She leaned against him only slightly, not wanting to appear as pitiful as she felt. He helped her into the buggy, placed a heavy quilt on her lap to keep her warm, then jumped in beside her. Within moments they were heading for her house a few miles down the road.

Several cars whizzed by as their buggy slowly made its way down the asphalt street. It shook as each vehicle zipped alongside them. Christian's horse, with its blinders on, remained unfazed, used to dealing with traffic. Rachel wrapped her black cloak more tightly around her, warding off the chilly, late afternoon air. A few clouds had appeared in the sky, with one large fluffy one blocking the sun, taking away its soothing warmth.

“You're awful quiet,” Christian said suddenly, breaking the silence that had been between them since they'd left the Bylers. “Something bothering you?”

“
Nee
, not really.” Not anything she wanted to talk about anyway. “My leg hurts, that's all. I do appreciate you taking me home.”

“Don't mind at all.” He pulled up on the reins a bit, slowing down his horse. “Gives me time to ask you something.”

Turning her head, she looked at him, her curiosity piqued. “What?”

“I wondered if you'd mind me courting you.”

Rachel's jaw dropped. “Did
Mudder
say something to you?” she blurted out, then wished she could take it back. Christian had been nowhere near the kitchen when she and her mother had their conversation.

He glanced at her, confused. “No, she didn't say a word to me. Should she have?”

“
Nee
,” she said, slinking down in the seat.

Christian cast her a sideways glance. “
Gut
. Because I really don't want to talk about your
mudder
now. I want to talk about us. Or the possibility of there being an
us
.”

One thing she could say about Christian is that he was to the point. He deserved her directness in return. “I'm surprised, Christian. This seems rather sudden.”

“I guess it does in a way. But I thought I made it pretty clear last May that I liked you.”

“I like you too.” It wasn't a lie, she really did like him. She just wasn't sure she
liked
him.

“That's good to hear.” He grinned at her, taking his eyes of the road for only a few seconds.

“As a friend,” she quickly added, worried she'd inadvertently given him the wrong message.

His smile diminished somewhat. But he remained undeterred. “I understand that. But I think our friendship could grow into something else. Especially if we spent more time together.” He gazed her again, his eyes latching onto hers. “Alone.”

Suddenly the painful lump in her leg had become the least of her problems. Christian was serious, and from the determined look on his face, it didn't appear he'd give up easily. Uncertainty filled her. “Christian . . . I don't know . . .”

“Why won't you give us a chance, Rachel? We've known each other a long time. Our families are good friends. You're not seeing anyone else, and neither am I.”

They were at the top of a gently sloping hill. The trees lining both sides of the road had shed their dead leaves, the naked, spindly branches pointing skyward. They passed by a white Amish house with the black buggy parked beneath a pristine carport, flanked by two fancy brick Yankee homes. Rachel spied her house in the near distance. Christian looked toward it and slowed his horse up even more. “Is it because you like Tobias?” he asked.

“What?” Rachel let out a strained laugh. “How could you even think such a thing? Tobias Byler is the last man I'd be interested in.”

“Just checking. I thought maybe you two had something private going on, especially after he touched your hair back there in the kitchen.”

“I have no idea why he did that,” she said, her face heating from the memory. She looked straight ahead, hoping Christian was doing the same so he wouldn't see the flush blooming on her cheeks. “Probably because he's
seltsam
.”

Christian chuckled. “Okay, you proved your point, especially if you think he's weird. Tobias is definitely out of the picture.” Then he sobered quickly. “Look, all I'm asking is that you give us a chance. If it doesn't work out, then no harm done. We both move on, and we'll stay friends.”

She averted her gaze and looked at the countryside. The jagged tops of cut, dried cornstalks jutted out from a nearby field, presenting a raw and desolate landscape. Maybe she wasn't being fair. Maybe there had never been any sparks between her and Christian because she hadn't been open to the possibility. Maybe he and her mother had been right all along. Still, she wasn't completely sure.

Despite his efforts to prolong their ride, they arrived at her driveway. He turned onto a narrow dirt road and drove straight back to her house. He halted his horse, jumped out of his seat, and met her on the other side. Holding out his hand, he helped her out of the buggy, offering to assist her inside.

“I think I can manage,” she said, limping toward her front door. “It doesn't hurt as much anymore.”

“
Gut.
Glad to hear it.” He paused for a moment, then reached down and lightly cupped her shoulders with his hands. “Promise me you'll think about what I said, Rachel.”

She could feel the warmth from his palms through her cloak. Lifting her face, she gazed up at him. His black, wide-brimmed hat sat low on his head, nearly covering his eyes and shading the rest of his face. But she could still see his beseeching expression, and heard the pleading in his voice.

“I promise,” she heard herself say softly.

His face split into a wide grin. “
Gut. Sehr gut
. You've made me one happy man.”

Unable to resist his joy, she smiled back. Perhaps there was a chance for them after all.