Chapter 11
P hoebe wasn’t prepared. She should have been, since she was the one who had brought the topic up that morning.
She also had the whole silent ride home to think about what she was going to say.
Yet now that she was face-to-face with Jalon—which was enough to keep her off-kilter—her brain short-circuited.
“We can talk later,” she said, sliding his plate closer to him.
“You need to eat yer lunch.” She was clucking like a worried mother hen, but she was desperate.
“Lunch will keep.” He folded his hands together on the table, and her gaze went to them. They were large hands, strong-looking and callused from construction work. Those same hands that built things, that spun a yo-yo with ease, had also held her son’s small hand with gentleness.
“ Danki ,” she said, unable to keep the words from spilling out.
“For what?”
“For ... everything. Giving us a place to live for a little while. Being so nice to Malachi.”
“I did what anyone else would do.”
Of course he had. He was nice, and nice guys didn’t abandon women and children.
It was also biblical. She wasn’t a widow, but she was a single mother and it was part of their faith and beliefs to help those who needed assistance.
She needed to get that straight in her head, and not jump to the wrong conclusion that he was doing anything other than his Christian duty.
He tilted his head and gazed at her, his brown eyes darkening in a way that appeared to have nothing to do with duty and everything to do with attraction.
How could she think straight when he was looking at her like that?
As though he felt something more than obligation, and that his conscience wasn’t anywhere in sight right now.
She picked at a tiny divot in the wood table, realized what she was doing, and put her hands in her lap.
She glanced at him again. The attraction had disappeared, replaced with confusion, which proved that she had no clue how to read him.
Of course he was confused. She had kept him in the dark and taken advantage of his kindness long enough.
“Malachi and I have stayed here longer than we should have.”
Jalon looked stunned. “I never said that.”
“Because you’re nice.”
“Because it’s not true. Phoebe, I meant it when I told you I wanted you and Malachi to stay.”
“But not indefinitely. That wouldn’t be right.” She drew in a breath. “I’ve got a cousin who lives in Ashtabula. Malachi and I will be leaving for her haus in the morning.”
Jalon frowned. “Have you contacted her?”
Phoebe shook her head. “I only have her address. I don’t think she has a phone.”
“So you’re just going to show up on her doorstep?” His words were edged with uncharacteristic sarcasm.
Lifting her chin, she said, “ Ya. That’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
She frowned at him, mostly because he was right. Arriving unannounced at a distant cousin’s and imposing on her and her family was not only impulsive, it was foolish. But what other choice did she have?
“It’s past time you tell me what’s going on, don’t you think?”
She nodded, then clasped her hands together and rested them on her lap.
“ Mei parents are poor.” Oh, her father wouldn’t appreciate this.
But Jalon deserved the truth. “I told you about Daed being a farmer. He barely makes enough to support mei familye . Sometimes ... sometimes he doesn’t even make that.
They never planned to have as many kinner as they do.
After they had me, eight years passed before they had Devon.
They always said the number of kinner a couple has is up to God, whether it’s one or twenty. They’re well on their way to twenty.
“I had a job, but I was laid off last year.” She thought she saw a muscle jerk in his cheek. Or maybe she’d imagined it. “ Mei mamm has her hands full with mei siblings, and Malachi, as you know, can be a double handful sometimes.”
“He’s a gut kin .”
“He’s ... busy. It seemed best that we leave and strike out on our own.”
“So yer parents don’t have two extra mouths to feed.”
She nodded. That wasn’t the only reason ... and not even the most important one. But it was the easiest one to explain. “I don’t want to saddle you with us either.”
“Phoebe.” He leveled his gaze. “I’m not saddled with anything.”
“What about Karen? She has to stay here, and we’re keeping her from her own familye .”
“Trust me, she doesn’t mind the break.” He leaned forward. “What do I have to do to convince you I want you here?”
The words left Jalon’s mouth before he could stop them. Not because they weren’t true. They were. And that was the problem. She wanted to leave. That much was clear. But despite everything, he wanted her to stay.
“I appreciate that, Jalon. But it’s better if we leave.”
He tried to hide his disappointment and ignore the pinch in his heart.
While his feelings for her were still strong, other than those few and far between glimpses of seeing his attraction to her returned, her own feelings were a mystery to him.
If her eagerness to leave was any indication, she didn’t feel as strongly for him as he did for her. And that was a whole other problem.
He should let her go without argument. She had a place to stay, although she sounded about as sure of that as the wisdom of walking a tightrope across Lake Erie.
If she and Malachi left, it would be good for him too.
He wouldn’t have to admit to her that he’d lost his job, or that he’d sunk everything he had into this farm.
From the sound of it, she knew very well how difficult farming could be.
He could get his life back on track, the way it was before he received her letter and decided to write her back.
That was what his mind was telling him. His heart was saying something else. “Leanna will be back soon. When she returns from Kentucky, mei aenti will have her call me and I’ll tell her to come home. Then Karen will geh back to her haus .”
“But—”
“Meanwhile, you can write to yer cousin and ask if you can stay there. Until you hear back from her, you and Malachi have a place here, in mei home.” His home. It felt odd to say the words out loud. Yet it also felt right.
“Jalon ...” Tears swam in her eyes. “That’s more than generous. More than I deserve.”
“You keep saying that.” Before he could stop himself, he took her hand.
“I don’t understand why.” He fully expected her to pull away.
She didn’t, and he stared at her hand. It was soft, her fingers on the short side but still elegant.
“It’s going to be okay, Phoebe.” And for some reason, he believed it. He looked into her eyes. “I promise.”
She pulled her hand from his, her eyes dry now. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
“I’ll keep this one.” He put his hands in his lap.
She nodded, but didn’t look convinced. “We’ll stay out of yer way. I’ll make sure Malachi doesn’t bother you—”
“He’s not a bother—”
“And a delicious supper will be on the table every night when you come home from work.”
He flinched. Work. He’d have to tackle that problem tomorrow. The past week had proved fruitless as far as finding a job, but he wouldn’t give up. He couldn’t afford to.
“I can even learn how to make Hunan beef.” A hopeful shine entered her blue eyes. “It won’t be as good as the restaurant’s, but I’d like to try.”
She remembered his favorite food. That had to mean something, right? Or was he seeing something that wasn’t there? “I’m sure it will be terrific. Everything you’ve made so far has been.”
She looked away, swallowing, her face a cloud of emotion.
And although he was at a loss when it came to figuring out her feelings for him, he could plainly see she was fighting some sort of internal battle.
“Phoebe,” he said softly, “everyone deserves to be treated with kindness and respect. Especially you.”
She dipped her head, and while he couldn’t see her expression, he saw her shoulders relax.
He leaned back in his chair. There was still more he wanted to know about her.
What happened between her and Malachi’s father, for one thing.
And he wasn’t completely convinced she was telling him the whole story about why she couldn’t go home, although he did believe what she told him was the truth.
She didn’t like putting people out. She was independent, or at least wanted to be.
He appreciated that. Clingy women weren’t appealing.
But he didn’t want to push her. This conversation was enough of a start. She wasn’t fragile, but it was clear she’d been hurt in the past. Definitely by her aunt, and possibly by Malachi’s father.
Phoebe looked up and tilted her head. “You look deep in thought.”
He wasn’t about to admit what he’d been thinking about, so he said, “I’d like to see yer drawings.” Which was true, even though her sketches had been the furthest thing from his mind.
Her face fell. “I don’t have them anymore. I hid mei sketchbook underneath mei mattress at Aenti Bertha’s.” She shrugged. “I guess she’ll be surprised when she finds it. And I can always get another one.”
Malachi came into the kitchen rubbing his eyes. He climbed into Phoebe’s lap and leaned his head against her shoulder. Jalon’s heart tightened at the sight. No, he couldn’t let her walk out of his life. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
Phoebe was determined to be the best houseguest in the history of Birch Creek, if not Ohio itself.
On Monday she’d mailed off a letter to her cousin Sylvia, along with the one to her parents.
Then she and Karen and Malachi went to the library in Langdon to get some books for Malachi and look at some cookbooks.