Chapter 27
Junior had a date in two hours and he had no idea what he was doing.
He felt restless, anxious, and confused.
None were emotions he welcomed. The trio of unwanted emotions had sprung up the moment Elizabeth walked out of his office, and had persisted long after she’d gone home.
If anything, they’d intensified whenever he spied the questioning looks of his employees.
There had been a lot of those.
There was no doubt that Cherry had happily shared what she’d seen in his office. There was also no doubt that pretty much everyone in the company had an opinion on the matter.
He didn’t appreciate that.
But did he blame everyone for gossiping about their boss? Nope. If the positions had been reversed, he would have done the same.
It would have been much better if he could avoid everyone, but since that wasn’t possible, he sidestepped every question or comment that had to do with Beth and redirected the attention back where it belonged: around all things candles.
After he got home and greeted his old dogs, he walked with them in the fields and attempted to push his mind off Beth. No, off of the way he felt whenever he was around her. She made him feel foolish and reckless. He didn’t like that.
It wasn’t him. Not even a little bit.
“What is going on with me, Clyde?” he asked. “I’m usually all about being forthright and careful. Now, here I am, mooning over a woman who’s not only English, but she’s expecting another man’s baby.”
His infatuation with her was firmly ripped from the pages of one of those tawdry books his mother liked to read.
Not that she’d ever said they were tawdry. She’d simply called the books romances and explained that they were all about people facing difficult circumstances in their lives but somehow still found love. She had always liked them.
Come to think of it, his daed had never complained about Mamm reading those books. Once, he’d even admitted that he’d read one when he’d been sick in bed and bored. He’d said it was good and had made the hours fly by.
Maybe Junior was the only one who seemed to feel that falling in love was a bad thing.
Looking down at the Labrador closest to him, he said, “What do you think, Honor? Is what I’m feeling normal and I’m just late to the party?”
Honor whined a bit, leaned close for a pat, then trotted off to Clyde’s side. Her mate. Her best friend.
“There’s your answer, you fool,” he muttered to himself. “Even your dogs know how to fall in love. What’s wrong with you?”
“You talking to yourself again, Junior?” Samuel asked.
And now his evening was complete. If he wasn’t dealing with enough confusing emotions, he now had to add his brother into the mix. He felt like throwing his hands up in the air and yelling.
But since that wasn’t possible, he settled with something a whole lot more direct. “What are you doing here, Sam?”
His brother stopped. For a second he looked hurt, but then he blinked and that hint of insecurity was gone. As he started forward, his usual cocky expression was in full force.
“If it ain’t obvious to you, then I reckon you’ve got more problems than I already imagined.
” He knelt on the ground as both dogs rushed toward him, tails wagging.
As both Honor and Clyde leaned close for pets, even circling him in an attempt to get closer, Junior watched with a somewhat bemused feeling.
It wasn’t directed toward Sam or the dogs, either. Instead, he was bemused with himself. He’d always believed that his two Labs were the best judges of character he knew.
They avoided some folks like the plague, and no manner of coaxing could get them to change their mind about them.
Then, just as he was getting fed up with apologizing for his pets’ behavior, the person who they were avoiding would show his or her true colors and he’d be feeling justified all over again.
There had never been a day that Clyde and Honor had shied away from Sam. He’d been the only one to do that.
“You’re awfully quiet, brother,” Sam said as he fell into step by his side.
“I guess I am. I was just thinking about how much the hunds enjoy your company.”
He looked down at them again. “That’s because they’re smart.”
Unable to help himself, he laughed. “Maybe smarter than me.”
Most of the smirk that had been staining Sam’s expression evaporated. “What’s going on with you?”
He opened his mouth to tell him nothing.
After all, his relationship with Elizabeth was his own business and no one else’s.
But keeping all his feelings to himself wasn’t helping him any.
Worse, it wasn’t helping things with Elizabeth.
Sure, he’d told her some of his feelings, but he hadn’t given her any promises.
Women needed promises. More importantly, Elizabeth de served for him to give some to her.
Taking a deep breath, he said, “I think I’m in love.”
Sam straightened. “Yep, I reckon you are.”
“Wait. You’re not going to ask who I’m in love with?”
“It’s Beth. Of course it’s Beth. I’m sure anyone who’s seen you with her thinks it’s obvious.”
“You think so?”
“I know so.” As they continued to walk, Samuel waved a hand. “Fact of the matter is . . . you’re different, Brother. You’re wearing a look on your face that says your focus has changed, and that focus has nothing to do with candles and everything to do with a pretty blond woman who’s much younger.”
“You’re right.”
Sam’s smirk widened into a true grin. “If I wasn’t feeling so sorry for you, I’d ask you to repeat yourself. I don’t remember you ever saying that I was right about anything before.”
“Yeah, well . . . Enjoy your fun. It’s right awkward and I don’t know what to do.”
“That’s because there ain’t anything you can do. Your heart has already made up its mind.”
“You sound almost poetic. How is that?”
With a shrug, Sam strode closer. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just remembering what being in love felt like.”
He’d been in love? His screw-up brother had already felt this way and Junior had had no memory of it? “I didn’t know that. When?”
Sam darted a look his way before staring directly in front of himself again. “I fell in love when I was sixteen.” His voice was monotone and his expression was blank.
As if even remembering the girl brought him almost too much pain to bear.
Shocked, Junior tried to remember that far back. When Samuel was sixteen, he’d been twenty.
Fifteen years ago.
Junior had been consumed with growing his company and helping with the farm. He’d been frustrated with his brother because he hadn’t done either of those things. He’d always been away from the house. With Alison.
His girlfriend.
“Ally,” he whispered.
“Jah. Don’t you remember that I was courting her seriously? Practically every evening I showed up at her haus with a bouquet of flowers and a bunch of sweet words.”
“I remember you courting. And I vaguely remember Ally, but I don’t remember what happened.” It was right around the time their parents died and their lives had upended.
“What happened is I proposed to Ally, John. I got down on one knee, bared my heart, and promised not only to get baptized, but to work hard and make her proud of me. I promised that we could be engaged for years, if she wanted. That I wouldn’t push her to marriage or .
. . or anything. We could take everything as slowly as she wanted. I promised a ton of things.”
“Sam . . .” He was at a loss for words. How had he forgotten this?
Still not looking at him, Sam shook his head. “I can’t believe I said so much. I pretty much pulled my heart out and laid it at her feet. I would have done anything to win her hand. Anything.” Sounding hoarse, he grunted. “I was such a fool. And na?ve. So na?ve.”
“So, she refused?”
“Not at first.”
“What happened?”
“It was her parents who refused me. They called me a charmer and a fool, and then made sure Ally soon felt that way, too. Two days later, she refused me. Just days after . . .”
“After our parents died.” Junior said as they came to a stop.
“Jah.” He swallowed. “Her parents not only believed that I was too young and a charmer, but I had no support system, either. They said she could do so much better.”
“She wouldn’t consider waiting?”
“Nope. Even though we were young, she didn’t want to give me more of her time. She didn’t want to give me time to prove myself.”
“She didn’t believe in you.”
Looking at him directly in the eye, Sam nodded. “She didn’t believe in me enough.”
“What happened to her?”
“A year later,she believed in her second cousin a whole lot more and married him. They live on some farm in Indiana now.”
Suddenly, a memory surfaced. One that he’d firmly tucked away. “You came home one night crushed and told me about it. But I didn’t listen.”
“You did more than that, John.”
He was right. It had been a bad night after a worse day. He’d discovered that his father owed money to a lot of people and they were going to lose the farm. He’d felt so alone and scared, both for his future and for Sam’s.
He’d also been exhausted, because he’d been caring for the animals and trying to get food and cook something that wasn’t burned.
He’d been resentful of Samuel never being much help and was even guilty of being resentful of his brother’s young age. He hadn’t wanted to raise him.
He’d been feeling so many terrible, shameful things, when Sam had come home with tears in his eyes, he’d lashed out at Sam. He’d told his little brother that Ally’s parents had been right not to believe in him because he was lazy. Then he’d said that he hadn’t believed in him, either.
“That’s when you left.”
“Yeah.” He shrugged. “I mean, what else could I do? Mom and Dad were gone, you were angry, and everything inside of me was breaking.”
“I’m sorry.” Inwardly, he cringed. He sounded trite. Ineffectual. Even though he was sincere, what did it matter? What mattered was that he hadn’t been there for his brother years ago, and he hadn’t been there for him yesterday.
If he wanted things to change, he was going to have to be different. Starting this minute. “You want something to eat?”
“When? Like now?”
“Well, yeah. Are you hungry?”
He shrugged. “I could eat.”
Those three words were straight from the past. Straight out from their childhood, when their mother had always teased Sam, saying that if she wasn’t careful, he would eat her out of house and home. Junior couldn’t remember a time when Sam had ever refused a meal, snack, or treat.
“You are giving me the oddest look,” Sam said. “Like you’re trying not to laugh. What did I say?”
“Nothing.” When he saw the hurt flare in his brother’s eyes, he knew that he was going to have to explain himself. “It’s just you used to say that same thing when we were growing up. Mamm would ask if you were hungry or wanted a snack and you always said that.”
He looked away. “I’d forgotten.”
“Until just now, I had, too.” Getting chilled, he led the way inside. “Come on. I’ll make you a roast beef sandwich.”
“You going to make one for yourself, too?”
“No. I’m taking Beth out tonight.”
“When? In a little over an hour.”
Sam’s eyebrows rose. “Hey, how about I leave?”
“Please don’t. I . . . I think I need to sit with you for a while. Besides, while we are sitting, you can tell me what’s going on.”
“Maybe I stopped by just because I wanted to say hello and see how you were doing.”
“Since you know I’m in love, we’ve got that covered. I’m more than happy to talk about you now,” he added as he opened the refrigerator and took out a brown paper package with a pound of roast beef inside.
“You might regret that.”
“Doubt it,” he replied as he pulled out a package of cheese, a loaf of rye bread, and a jar of refrigerator pickles. “Help your self. There’s mustard and mayo in the fridge.”
He sipped water while Samuel put together his meal. Sam might be different from him, but it seemed that their choice in sandwiches was exactly the same.
Junior thought about that while Sam poured himself a glass of milk, sat down, and finally bowed his head in silent prayer. He realized that there was an ease between them that hadn’t been there in a long while.
Maybe not ever.
When he finished the meal, Samuel leaned back in his chair. “To finally answer your question, the reason I came over was because I wanted to see you.”
Junior nodded. Prepared himself to hear the reason why. Maybe he wanted to work at Walden Wax Works, after all? “Whatever you have to say, I promise to listen.”
“All right.” He shifted. “I wanted to get to know you again.”
Junior held his breath, waiting for the rest of the words. None were forthcoming.
“Wait, that’s it?”
“That’s it.” His younger brother’s brows lowered. Reminded him of the way he used to ask him to do things when he couldn’t. Open jars. Reach items on a top shelf.
Spell words. Solve math homework.
Lift a shovel filled with fresh dirt.
“Is that all right with you?”
Sam’s voice penetrated the memories. Pulled on his heart. “Yes,” he said at last. “Yeah. I’d like that, too.”
A pleased smile appeared on his face. “That’s good, right?”
“It’s real good.” As he returned his brother’s smile, Junior reckoned that there wasn’t another thing that needed to be said.