An Unbroken Heart (11 page)

He squirmed in the chair and forced the memories from his mind. He had to focus on
the present. “I can pay you whatever the penalty is for breaking the lease.”

“Forget that.” She looked at him for a long moment, then shook her head as if she
was disappointed in him. She couldn't possibly be more disappointed in him than he
was in himself. “I can see you're determined to go. When are you leaving?”

“Thursday morning. My last day of work is Wednesday, and I plan to pack up everything
that night.”

“At least let me make you a pot roast tonight. As a going away present.”

He smiled, glad she wasn't upset with him. “You know I'd never turn down your pot
roast.”

“And you don't worry about taking Lacy to day care. I'll watch her until you go.
I won't have much time left with the little one.” She rose from her chair. To Cameron's
surprise she touched his shoulder. “I'll also be praying for you. Not just this week,
but after you leave.” She wiped the tears that had spilled from her eyes. “I know
it sounds strange because we haven't known each other for very long. But you're like
a son to me. I truly believe God brought you and Mackenzie and Lacy into my life
at the perfect time for all of us, even if you don't see it that way.” She pulled
away from him. “I hope if you ever need anything in the future, you won't hesitate
to call. I'll always be there for you and Lacy.”

His chest expanded with gratitude for her kindness. He hadn't done anything to earn
it,
yet
she was giving it to him without strings attached. He wasn't used to such
selflessness.
“I
won't,” he said, fighting another burning round of unshed tears.
He had no
intention
to follow through with his promise, though. She didn't rate getting
mixed
up
in his disaster of a life.

Her eyes were shiny. “I'll bring you that pot roast tomorrow night.” She drew in
a stuttering breath, then turned and rushed out of the apartment.

With a forceful jerk Cameron yanked the thread out of the upholstery. If only things
were different, he could stay. He wanted to stay. He wanted Mackenzie sitting next
to him on this old sofa, her head against his shoulder, her slim fingers entwined
with his. If she were here, there would never have been an accident. He wouldn't
be a coward about to go on the run.

He wouldn't be a murderer.

He slammed his fist on the coffee table, almost breaking the old wood in two.

Joanna was past exhausted by the time Aden's brother, Sol, and his mother, Rhoda,
arrived for Aden's birthday supper. Aden, in his typical humble way, had said he
didn't want anyone to fuss over him. But a nice supper with his family—with the exception
of his father—wasn't going overboard. Every birthday,
nee
, every day, was precious.
Aden deserved a little bit of extra attention tonight.

“Can I help?” Rhoda Troyer asked as she walked into the kitchen. Sol wasn't with
her, and Joanna assumed he was outside somewhere with Aden. Joanna knew that since
Bishop Troyer had left Birch Creek, Sol kept close vigil on his mother, as if he
were afraid of leaving her alone. Aden had also gone to see his mother and brother
three times in the two days Joanna had been back home. She hadn't realized the Troyer
family was so tight-knit. She'd always detected an underlying strain between the
brothers. Then again, perhaps that was due to their father leaving them and the community
he had promised to serve. Tragedy had a way of bringing people together.

Or tearing them apart.

The words slammed into her brain, unbidden. Busy all afternoon, she hadn't had much
time to think about Andrew and the wedding, which meant she didn't have to continue
chasing away her doubts. She had put all her focus and energy into preparing tonight's
meal and baking Aden's cake.

“Joanna?” Rhoda stood next to her, puzzlement in her eyes. “Are you okay?”

She wasn't, but she nodded anyway. She was leaning heavily on both of her crutches,
her legs weak and her hips aching. Tonight she would rest her body, but for now she
would hide her pain.

Rhoda looked at her intently, and Joanna thought Aden's mother didn't believe her.
Then she realized Rhoda's gaze was focused on the scar.

She fought the urge to turn away and hide her face.
I have to get used to the stares.
Not just because of the scar, but her crutches, too, at least until she got rid of
them. She rallied and gave Rhoda a sweet smile. “I promise, I'm fine. You can pour
the iced tea if you like.”

Rhoda nodded eagerly, as if grateful to have something to do. She took the tea pitcher,
and then Joanna limped to the oven and opened the door. A wave of heat hit her as
she pulled out the pan of yeast rolls, golden brown on top. She set the tray on the
stove, then slathered melted butter over the rolls.

“Smells
appeditlich
,” Rhoda said as she filled one of the tea glasses.

“
Danki
. I hope Aden will like them.”

“I'm sure he will. He's always been easy to please. When he was a little boy . .
.”

Joanna detected the sadness in her voice. Was that because of her husband's absence?
Or was she recalling more difficult memories? Although Emmanuel Troyer had been the
bishop of Birch Creek Joanna's entire life, she'd always sensed a distance between
the Troyers and the rest of the community. They had kept to themselves, especially
Aden, which was one of several reasons why Sadie's marriage was such a shock. Joanna
hadn't been aware that Sadie and Aden were friends, much less courting.
Joanna thought
she and Andrew had been private about their relationship, but they had been overly
conspicuous compared to her sister and new brother-in-law.

“We're almost out of tea,” Rhoda said, holding up the pitcher. “Would you like me
to make some more?”

“
Ya
. Fresh tea would be great.” Joanna arranged the rolls in a basket lined with
a kitchen towel to catch the dripping butter.

Rhoda filled the kettle and placed it on the stove. “Let me take the rolls to the
table for you.”

Joanna was tempted to do it herself, but she was so tired she didn't resist. Rhoda
had just set the basket down when Sadie, Abigail, Aden, and Sol entered the kitchen.

“Everything looks and smells amazing, Joanna,” Abigail said, coming up to her. She
leaned closer and whispered, “Promise me you'll eat tonight.”

With a jerk of her head Joanna looked at Abigail. “I always eat.”

“Picking at
yer
food is not eating.” Abigail gave her a sharp look. “And I'll get
the dishes after supper.”

“But—”

“No arguments. I can tell you worked hard to make supper special. Don't be so stubborn.”

Joanna nodded, unable to refuse her sister. She couldn't refuse anyone anymore, not
after they had done so much for her. She owed them everything, and all she could
give them was a good meal. It seemed so little in comparison.

She started to take her place at the table but paused, surveying the seating arrangements.
Aden was sitting at the head of the table, Sadie at the other end. The same places
where her mother and father used to sit. Her heart compressed as her sister and
brother-in-law's
faces blurred into her parents. Would the grief ever subside?

Reminding herself that this was a happy occasion, she glanced at Sol, who was sitting
next to Rhoda and opposite Abigail. He'd been silent since his arrival, and there
was a seriousness to him that Joanna had never noticed before. Not that she had known
him very well. He was nearly ten years older than her. But she'd always thought he'd
had a reckless, bold air to him. When she'd heard about his confession from Abigail,
she'd been surprised but not shocked. She also didn't judge him. Everyone made mistakes,
and he had not only asked for forgiveness, but he seemed to have turned his life
around, at least from what she could tell. Again she was reminded of how much had
changed in the past month and a half.

When she noticed she was the last person standing, Joanna hurried to take her seat
beside Abigail. Her sister's brow lifted knowingly, and Joanna nodded. She would
eat, if only for Abigail's sake.

On Aden's cue everyone bowed their heads for silent prayer. When the prayer was over
moments later, she opened her eyes and saw Abigail holding out a platter of meat
loaf. Her sister put a large slice on Joanna's plate and smiled. “Enjoy.”

Picking up her fork, Joanna stared at the steaming portion. She'd used her mother's
recipe from the cookbook she'd found in her parents' bedroom the day she returned
from Middlefield. She took a small bite. Her stomach lurched a bit, but the food
was tasty.

Abigail nodded her approval, then finished filling her own plate with mashed potatoes,
cooked cabbage, and broccoli salad, plus two rolls.

“Sol and I have started building the bee frames,” Aden said above the low clatter
of silverware and plates being moved around.

Joanna looked at her brother-in-law and curled her fingers tightly around her fork.
Her father had always initiated supper conversations, just as Aden was doing. Another
moment of grief touched her soul.

“We should have them done by winter,” Aden continued. He looked at his brother. “It's
been nice having the help.”

“I've learned a lot about bees.” Sol scooped up a forkful of mashed potatoes.

“More than you wanted to, I'm sure,” Sadie said.

Sol froze, the potatoes halfway to his mouth. He looked at Sadie, who was smiling.
Aden was also grinning widely. Sol's shoulders eventually relaxed, as if he'd had
to figure out if Sadie was serious or not. “
Ya
. You could say that.”

Aden shrugged. “I can't help it. I like bees.”

“You love bees.” Sadie laughed.

“Admit it, you're starting to love them too.”

“Barely tolerating them is more accurate.”

“There's
nix
to tolerate, since I don't have any right now,” he pointed out. “Besides,
you can't deny that you love the honey.”

She nodded. “And when that comes in, I will fall in love with the bees.”

Everyone chuckled, even Joanna.

“Promise?” Aden asked, a touch of seriousness in his voice.

Sadie smiled. “Promise.
Yer
honey is going to be a big seller in the store. I'm sure
of it.”

“Maybe.” Aden glanced down at his nearly empty plate.

“It will. Everyone knows it's the best honey around.”

Joanna saw the small flush of pleasure on his face at the compliment. Sadie had
always been a forthright person, so she wouldn't hesitate to compliment her husband,
even though it might be considered a bit prideful. This wasn't the first time she'd
said something complimentary about Aden in front of Joanna, and he seemed to soak
up the words like a man dying of thirst.

Joanna had also noticed that the love Sadie and Aden shared had softened her sister.
She didn't spend as much time in the store after hours, the way she used to before
the accident. She seemed happier than Joanna had seen her in years. And when Aden
looked at Sadie, his heart was in his eyes—the same way Andrew's had been in his
when he asked Joanna to marry him. But Joanna knew Aden's love came from the heart.
She couldn't shake the thought that Andrew's came from his conscience.

She looked down at her plate, unable to take another bite. Why couldn't she have
peace about marrying him?
Why can't I be sure of his love?

Joanna pushed around her food until everyone was nearly finished with their meal.
Desperate to get away from the table before Abigail nagged her about not eating,
she picked up her crutches, stood up, and put them under her arms. “I'll get the
cake ready.”

“Let me help you,” Sadie said, starting to get up.

Joanna shook her head. “
Geh
ahead and finish
yer
meal.”

Sadie shook her head and was now standing. “I—”

“I can do it!” Joanna bit the inside of her cheek.

“All right,” Sadie said quietly, sitting back down.

Joanna's face filled with heat. Everyone was looking at her, except for Sadie, who
had exchanged a worried glance with Aden. Gathering her wits, Joanna turned around.
She'd show
them she didn't need their help. But her legs started to wobble when she
took her first step toward the counter. The short time she'd sat at the dinner table
hadn't given her body enough recovery time. Yet she continued, determined to get
that cake and bring it to the table.

She gripped the handles of the crutches and forced her limbs to cooperate. After
a few more steps, her legs gained some strength. When she reached the counter, she
leaned her left crutch against the lower cabinets and picked up Aden's dessert—a
triple-layer fudge cake with cream cheese icing. She balanced it on the palm of her
hand and started to turn around.