An Amish Wedding (24 page)

As he walked through the doorway behind her, she heard him sniff. “Chocolate?”

“I made some brownies earlier.” Although she wasn’t emotionally prepared for him to stay, politeness overruled. “Would you like one?”

“Sure.”

The grin she was used to seeing on his face returned, and he followed her into the kitchen. She put a brownie square on a plate as he sat down at the table. “Would you like something to drink?”

“This looks interesting.” He pointed to the pitcher on the table.

“Oh.” Naomi smiled a little. “Sarah Mae’s special-recipe Kool-Aid. She usually doesn’t put enough sugar in, so I don’t recommend drinking it with the brownie.”

“Pour me a glass anyway. Never could resist cherry Kool-Aid.”

She laughed despite herself. She poured him a small glass and joined him at the table. She started to fold up the quilt fabric when he stopped her.

“This is what you’re working on?” He studied it for a moment, and she squirmed under his scrutiny. Did he notice the uneven stitching? The puckered seam? “This is going to be a beautiful quilt, Naomi.”

His compliment brought a blush to her face. She ran her hand across the soft fabric. “I don’t know about that. I’ll probably have to take half of it apart and redo it. Again.”

“Why? It looks fine to me.”

“Spoken like a
mann
.”

He smirked. “Are you saying that I don’t know my quilts from my roofing shingles?”

She smiled. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“You know, living on my own for a while, I learned to do more than cook. I couldn’t
geh
running to
mei mamm
every time I ripped a seam in my pants. I learned how to manage a needle just fine. I just don’t
geh
around advertising the fact.”

She hadn’t thought about that before. She looked down at the quilt section again. “You really think it’s okay?”

“I do. And even if it’s as bad as you think it is, which it’s not, Priscilla and Chester won’t notice or care.”

“I know. I just want it to be perfect for them.”

He chuckled. “You sound like Chester. He was saying the same thing an hour ago at the
haus
.” He looked at her steadily. “Perfection is impossible to attain.” Then his eyes turned dark, almost smoky green in color. “Although I think you’re pretty close.”

She sucked in a breath, surprised and touched by his compliment and his intense expression.

He pulled back, and his elbow knocked over the glass. Naomi yanked on the quilt and jumped up from her chair, watching helplessly as the white background fabric turned pink.

Chapter Eight

Z
EKE GAPED IN HORROR AT THE RUINED FABRIC
. H
E’D
come over here to reassure her that he wasn’t going to push her into anything, and not only did his mouth get the best of him, but he destroyed something she’d worked so hard on.

“Naomi . . . I’m sorry.”

The words were weak. He expected her to yell at him, or at the very least tell him to leave. But she just rushed to the sink and ran cold water over the fabric, then poured dish detergent over it and started scrubbing. After a few moments, she shut off the water and leaned against the sink, tossing the fabric to the side.

He scrubbed his hand over his face.
Dummkopf
. A dripping sound caught his attention, and he looked down to see the Kool-Aid dribbling over the edge of the table and onto her spotless floor. He spotted the napkins in the holder in the middle of the table, snatched a few, and started mopping up the mess, trying to think of something to say to salvage the situation.

“It’s all right.” She knelt beside him, paper towels in her hand. “I’ll get this.” When he protested she put her hand over his, stopping him. “Let me do it.”

He let go of the napkins and stood while she finished cleaning up. “At least let me get the table.”

When she didn’t answer he took that as a yes and wiped up the rest of the mess. He tossed the red-stained napkins into the trash, glancing at the now-pink quilt segment lying limply in the metal sink. He turned to face her, swallowing hard. “I’ll pay for the fabric, Naomi. The thread, anything else you need.”

She shook her head. “
Nee
.” Her voice sounded thick, as if she were trying to speak through a mouthful of peanut butter. “It was an accident. I should have put the quilt away.”

“I should have been paying better attention.” The defeat in her eyes tugged at him.

“It’s probably for the best,” she said, sounding a little clearer now. “I wouldn’t have finished it in time for the wedding anyway. I’ll have to think of another gift for them.” But while her words sounded nonchalant, he saw the strain on her face.

“I can help you with the new one,” he said, desperate for anything to cheer her up. “I don’t know how to quilt, but I can help you piece it together. I can put all that bragging about my sewing skills to
gut
use.”

She gave him a half smile that quickly disappeared. “I think you should
geh
.”

“Naomi, I’m really sorry. Give me the chance to make it up to you.”

She shook her head. “You don’t need to make it up to me. I meant it when I said it was okay. Accidents happen. I could have spilled the whole pitcher on it.” She paused, biting her lip. “I just think . . . we shouldn’t be here alone like this.”

“That’s what I came here to tell you.” He longed to move closer to her, but that would only make her more skittish. The last thing he wanted to do was make even more of a mess of things. “I shouldn’t have been so straightforward with you at the Pantry. Believe me when I tell you I don’t normally put my feelings out in the open like that.”

“Zeke—”

“And I want you to know I wouldn’t do anything to pressure you or make you afraid.”

She didn’t say anything for a long time. Instead she stared at the damp fabric, running her finger over one of the seams. Then she looked at him. “I’m not afraid of you, Zeke.” She licked her lips. “I couldn’t be.”

His pulse went into overdrive. Here he was praying she wouldn’t hand him his hat, and now she’d given him more hope than he deserved. “I’m glad you believe that.”

“I do.” She took a breath. “But I don’t think we should see each other anymore.”

T
HE DISASTER OF THE QUILT WAS FORGOTTEN AS
N
AOMI
took in the pained look on Zeke’s face. The hold he had on her emotions amazed her. Just a moment ago she’d been in near tears over the quilt being ruined, and then just as quickly ready to laugh at his offer to help her start a new one. She couldn’t imagine any man being willing to do that, sewing skills or not. And at the same time that she’d told him she didn’t think they should see each other, her heart spoke something else. Being here with him felt right.

But it had also felt right with David. Her feelings were unreliable, and she couldn’t trust them. She forced a lie off her tongue. “I’m flattered, but I believe that’s the way it has to be.”

He straightened his shoulders, but she could see doubt creeping into his eyes. “I didn’t tell you my feelings to flatter you, Naomi. Or to take advantage of you.”

“I know.”

“I told you I liked you because I meant it. And I thought . . .” He sighed, his shoulders rounding. “I thought you might feel the same.”

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

“And I’ll
geh
and not bother you again. But before I do . . .” His gaze bore into her, challenging her to speak the truth. “I would like to know why you think we shouldn’t see each other.”

“It’s not practical.”

He frowned. “Practical?”

“We barely know each other, Zeke.”

“I’d like to change that.”

She drew in a breath. “You live in Middlefield, Zeke. You have your own business. Your
familye
is there. Are you willing to leave that all behind because of some infatuation?”

He tilted his head. “I’m not infatuated. And I still don’t think you’re being completely honest with me.” His voice lowered. “What are you really afraid of?”

“I’m not afraid of anything.” But when he kept his gaze focused on her, she glanced away. “I’m not being unreasonable. You said yourself you don’t waste time dating. I’m trying to save you from wasting your time, just to find out that we weren’t meant for each other.”

He moved toward her. “But you were willing to let me waste my time with Margaret,
ya
?”

“I thought . . . I thought you two might be
gut
for each other.” But she thought about everything that had gone wrong with Margaret and Zeke, while she and Zeke got along from the very beginning, even easier than she had with David. Was God trying to tell them all something? The practical side of her dismissed it. “I still think you should give her a chance.”

“Even though you won’t give me one?” He sighed. “Naomi, I don’t know why you’re so determined to hand me off to Margaret, when I can see—
nee
, I can feel—that you like me. But maybe you’re right. If you don’t trust me enough to tell me the truth, then this won’t work.”

She was tempted to tell him about David, only to remember all she’d tried to forget over the past three years. David had said the same things Zeke did. He’d cared for her. Thought she was special. That she was the one God had made for him.

Then he left and never came back. There was no guarantee Zeke wouldn’t do the same. She couldn’t glue her heart together again if he did.

He let out a breath, and the pain in his hazel eyes slashed at her. “I think I’ve got my answer.”

She turned around, unable to speak. With each thud of his boots against the wood floor as he left, she blinked back the tears.

Z
EKE CLIMBED INTO THE BUGGY, WHIPPED OFF HIS HAT
, and slammed it against the seat. He leaned forward and let his head drop into his cupped hands.
Was I wrong, Lord? Did I let my feelings cloud my thoughts and Your will?
If he’d asked those questions before seeing Naomi tonight, he would have answered no. But now he wasn’t sure.

The sun had already disappeared behind the horizon, bringing on the chill of the night. He couldn’t sit in Naomi’s driveway trying to figure things out. He picked up the reins and made his way back to Chester’s house, trying to calm his rocked feelings. He wasn’t an immature kid who didn’t know his own heart. He’d felt loneliness before. Even physical attraction, which he’d always made sure not to act on. And now, an attraction that ran deeper than the physical, deeper than anything he’d known before. But he’d never experienced this kind of rejection before, and it was like someone put his heart in a vise and tightened the screws. A big part of him wished he hadn’t taken the risk in the first place.

Risk
. He pulled up on the reins, slowing the horse to a near stop. A beam of headlights shone in his face, but he barely noticed. That had to be what she was afraid of. She’d been hurt in the past, he was almost sure of it. Why else would she be so reluctant to trust him? He had to reassure her that he wouldn’t hurt her. If he waited much longer she would be too caught up in the wedding preparations to see him. Or she would use that as an excuse. Naomi King had no shortage of those.

A car whizzed by, honking its horn, and he realized he was going slow, even for a buggy. He spurred the horse to a trot, paying more attention to the road. But in the back of his mind he prayed.
How can I reach her, Lord? Please, tell me—