Huckleberry Harvest (20 page)

Knowing how much he loved it and how much of a sacrifice it must have been for him to offer it to her, she couldn’t help but be charmed by his kindness. “Nae, I wouldn’t dream of it. Finish it.”

“Dat?” Noah said.

“I am stuffed,” Wayne said, waving the cookie sheet away.

Noah didn’t need more encouragement than that. He picked up the last piece like a slice of pizza and downed it in four bites. Mandy propped her chin in her hand and gazed at him. She couldn’t think of anything more pleasant than watching Noah enjoy her cooking. Unless it was watching Noah toss bales into the haymow.

That was an extremely pleasant thought. A bolt of electricity skipped up her spine. No wonder Kristina liked to spy on him. Mandy could have watched Noah for hours without even taking time out for meals. She loved the fluid movement of his hands and arms as he worked with his tools, the solid arch of his back when he picked up a shovel, and the strong set of his jaw when he puzzled over a problem.

Their arms nearly touched when Noah propped his elbows on the table. “Would it be rude if I licked my plate?”

Mandy giggled. “I’m afraid so.”

After lunch, Wayne ambled back to his workshop. He wanted to experiment with a new star basket template. Mandy wiped cupboards while Noah did up the dishes. She laughed when his eye-potato fell into the dishwater and he gave up on it altogether. It was too difficult to wash cups properly with one hand.

They dried the dishes together while Noah, who didn’t like talking about his family, told her about the time that he and his brother Yost got chased by a moose.

When the dishes were washed up, Noah stashed the three mismatched plates in the cupboard and set his dish towel on the counter. “Shall we have dessert?”

“You’re almost out of sugar and the apples are gone. There’s nothing for dessert.”

Curling one side of his mouth, Noah reached into her canvas bag on the counter and pulled out the bag of marshmallows. “Do you still want to burn down the house?”

A smile leaped onto her face. “I forgot about those.”

He picked up the lighter sitting next to the stove, held it near the burner, and turned on the gas. The burner lit with a hiss and a whoosh.

She reached into the drawer and pulled out two forks. “Roasting sticks.”

“Hmm,” he said, pursing his lips. “They’re not very long. I wouldn’t want to singe my finger hairs.”

The laughter just seemed to bubble out of her mouth. “Well, I do have another idea, but Mammi might not approve.”

“I wouldn’t want to do anything to upset your mammi.”

Mandy reached clear into the bottom of her bag and pulled out a ball of blue yarn with two knitting needles sticking out of it. “Mammi insists I carry these everywhere. If I go places where I have to sit and wait, she wants me to knit pot holders.”

“For all your boyfriends?”

Mandy cuffed him on the shoulder.

“Ouch,” he said, grinning from ear to ear. “That was completely uncalled for.”

“Jah, okay, you’re right, but our pot holder supply is very low. Sometimes I’m tempted to pick a boy just so I don’t have to knit any more pot holders.”

A shadow passed across his face, but it was so fleeting that Mandy wondered if she had really seen it. “Surely your mammi knows that all those boys don’t need pot holders as an encouragement to date you. Your freckles are encouragement enough.” The way he looked at her, as if he found it impossible to take his eyes off those freckles, made her knees a little weak.

For a moment she forgot where she was and just stared into his eyes. If he weren’t so handsome, she would have been able to think of something clever and amusing to say in return. But nothing was coming to her.

Instead, she did what any girl with her wits about her would do. She gave a little cough, as if something tickled her throat, and changed the subject. “These knitting needles would make great roasting sticks.”

The corner of his mouth twitched, and he slid the needles from her ball of yarn. “But your mammi might have a heart attack if she knew?”

“It would be the same as if we used your flathead screwdriver to open a can of paint.”

“The one with the keystone tip?”

“Jah.”

He winced. “We should use the forks. I don’t need my finger hairs.”

Mandy giggled. “Let’s see what else we can find.”

She and Noah rummaged through the drawers. “There’s not much here,” she said. “You might own twenty different kinds of wrenches, but you don’t even have a ladle or a turkey baster.”

“Twenty-seven,” he said.

“Twenty-seven what?”

“Twenty-seven different kinds of wrenches.”

“Look at these,” she said, pulling a carving fork and a long metal utensil from the bottom drawer. The utensil that she didn’t recognize looked like a very long safety pin with no clasp at the top. She held it up for him to look at.

“That’s a kabob skewer,” Noah said.

“What is a kabob skewer, and why do you have one in your bottom drawer?”

“I have no idea.”

“And why do you have a kabob skewer but don’t own a spatula?”

He shrugged and chuckled. “I was going to buy a spatula but some locking-jaw pliers caught my eye.”

She shook her head in exasperation. “You are incorrigible.”

He pulled two marshmallows out of the bag. She skewered the carving fork into one of them, and he used the kabob skewer for his marshmallow. She didn’t know what a kabob skewer was, but it was the perfect size for roasting marshmallows over the stove flame.

They stood close to each other and watched as their marshmallows slowly turned golden brown. Mandy savored the feel of Noah’s strong arm brushing up against hers. She felt so bad for Noah and his dat. Noah didn’t like to talk about his family, but Mandy thought she might be able to help them fix their difficult situation. But would he be open to her help? He hadn’t been before.

“Noah,” she said, turning her marshmallow around and around so it cooked evenly. “Have you ever thought about getting your dat some help?”

She felt him stiffen beside her. “He doesn’t want help.”

Knowing what a touchy subject this was for him, she probably should have stopped right there, but she knew she could help if he would just listen. She forged on. “There are places he can go. Places where they help people overcome their addictions.”

His knuckles turned white around the carving fork. “If my dat went into one of those places, how long before the whole community knew about it? My shame would be ten times worse than it is right now.”

“Noah, this is your community. You have nothing to be ashamed of.”

He shoved his marshmallow too close to the fire, and it burst into flames. Without flinching, he flung the fork and burning marshmallow into the sink and turned on the water. “I have everything to be ashamed of.”

Her mouth felt dry as dust. She didn’t want to upset him, but if he’d just listen . . . she knew she was right. She laid her golden brown marshmallow on the counter next to the stove. “A counselor might be able to come to your house. Your dat wouldn’t even have to go anywhere. If you just talked to somebody. Just looked at your options.”

“Four years ago, my mamm tried to get help for my dat. Do you know what happened? The community found out. People started avoiding us. They whispered about us behind our backs. The elders had no choice but to put my dat under the ban. You know what shame follows the family of a person who is shunned.”

Scowling, he turned his back on her, grasped the edge of the counter with both hands, and pushed against it as if he were trying to tip it over. With the strength of his arms and the condition of house, he just might have been able to do it. “Mandy,” he said, his voice betraying smoldering anger and something deeper. Something that sounded like profound grief. “You must understand. Some things can’t be fixed.”

“I really think this can be fixed. My cousin’s best friend—”

He whirled around to face her, and she thought for a split second that he was going to lash out at her. Instead, his voice was mild but restrained like a team of well-disciplined horses. “I’ve tried, Mandy. You have to believe I’ve tried.”

“I believe you.”

“I won’t let myself be shamed again.” He seemed to deflate instantly and leaned against the counter he’d just tried to push over. “My dat won’t change, and I won’t let myself hope that he will.”

“There is always hope through Jesus.”

“But not hope for my dat.”

With his hands balled into fists, he clenched his jaw tight, as if he were trying to grind all his problems between his teeth. Wishing she could take some of his pain to herself, she reached out and caressed the side of his face.

Closing his eyes, he turned his face to her touch and exhaled slowly. He reached up with one hand and gently wrapped his fingers around her wrist as if to hold her hand against his cheek.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Opening his eyes, he slid his other hand around her waist and tugged her closer to him. Her heart was humming instead of merely beating. She looked up into his eyes as he pulled her even closer and stared at her lips as if they were his destination. Was he going to kiss her? Did she want him to?

Her heart hammered against her chest, demanding to be let out. Of course she wanted him to kiss her. More than anything.

He bent his head toward her. She wrapped her hands around those hard biceps and lifted her face to him. Suddenly, she felt him stiffen as he growled from deep in his throat, smiled feebly, and nudged her a few inches away from him. “I’m sorry. My mamm raised me better.”

Better than what? What was wrong with a little kissing? She wanted a kiss. Didn’t her wishes count for anything?

The heightened color in his face made his eyes look even browner. He released her as if she were hot to the touch and turned to the sink to retrieve his charred marshmallow. He picked up the carving fork and held it out for her examination. “I think I need another marshmallow.”

“Here,” she said, pulling hers from the skewer. “Eat mine. I can roast another one.”

“I can roast another one.”

“How many are you planning on burning? I only brought eight.”

He glanced at her with a sheepish smirk on his face. “The rest will be golden brown as long as you don’t distract me.”

“Me? It’s not my fault you don’t know how to roast a marshmallow.”

She handed him another marshmallow from the bag, and he skewered it with his fork. She could see the concentration etched on his face as he leaned closer to the flame and carefully held his marshmallow over it.

“Is it okay if I eat mine,” she said in an exaggerated whisper, “or will that distract you?”

“Only if you chew loudly.”

“How does anybody chew a marshmallow loudly?” She popped her perfectly cooked marshmallow into her mouth, leaned close to Noah’s ear, and clacked her tongue as she chewed. “How about this?”

He chuckled quietly, trying not jiggle his fork in the process. “If I ruin this marshmallow, it will be on your head.”

She stood up straight and spread her hands wide. “I am completely innocent.”

Noah’s marshmallow soon turned a toasty brown color. Smiling in satisfaction, he slid the crispy brown outer layer off the inner marshmallow and popped it into his mouth. Imitating Mandy, he clacked his tongue while he chewed, making both of them laugh. He finished off the gooey center of his marshmallow by sticking the roasting fork into his mouth and sliding it out again without the marshmallow attached.

“We really should get another potato on that eye,” she said. “Do you want me to roast while you soak?”

“If you’ll stick another marshmallow on my fork, I’ll do both.” She watched as he picked another potato slice from the plate and placed it against his eye. “Do you think I’ll be better by tomorrow?”

She shook her head. “I’m afraid the eye isn’t going to look much better for another week or two, even with a whole bag of potatoes.”

He exhaled a slow breath. “I can’t stay away that long. I need the money.”

Mandy slid another marshmallow onto his roasting fork. “I have an idea to help you not draw attention to yourself.”

“What?”

“Come to work tomorrow, and I’ll show you.”

“Tell me. How do I know I’ll like your idea?”

She grinned. “You’ll just have to have a little faith.”

He cocked an eyebrow playfully. “I can’t reroof the house with a paper bag over my head.”

“I don’t want you changing your mind. I’m hoping your curiosity will get the better of you, and you’ll feel compelled to come.”

He looked sideways at her. “No need to worry. I definitely feel compelled to come.”

Mandy threw the door open before he even knocked. “You came,” she said, as if Noah’s arrival were the best thing to happen to her since battery-operated sewing machines, although Noah knew that couldn’t have been true. A girl like Mandy, who probably had a dozen boys buzzing around her all the time in Ohio, could never be interested in someone as unworthy and backward as Noah. She knew about his dat. She knew about his troubled family. He’d ordered her out of his house at least twice and snapped at her practically every time they got together. It was a wonder she could even stand the sight of him.

Even with all that pressing down on him, Noah couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her. She was so pretty, and seemed so enthusiastic, as if she’d been eagerly waiting for him to show up.

She reached out and brushed her fingers across his eyebrow. His whole face started tingling. “Your eye looks better than it did yesterday. It’s not as black.”

He grinned and instinctively massaged his eyebrow right at the spot where her hand had just been. “It doesn’t hurt so bad today, thanks to your potato remedy.”

“Gute,” she said, stepping back from the threshold. “
Cum reu
. Come in.”

“I need to get started on the roof.”

Felty sat in his recliner holding a pair of knitting needles and a ball of pink yarn. “Noah. Good to see you.”

Noah turned his face slightly to the side so Felty wouldn’t notice his black eye, but he couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Felty holding a pair of knitting needles as if he were trying to saw through a very tough steak. “Are you knitting, Felty?”

Mandy shook her head and let out a puff of air. “Mammi has enlisted Dawdi to make pot holders. She’s sure we’ll never have enough.”

“I don’t really know how to knit,” Felty said. “But if I hold the needles like this and look like I’m trying to figure it out, that seems to satisfy Annie.” He stabbed one of the needles into the ball of yarn and waved it above his head like a flag. “She’ll get suspicious when her pot holder supply doesn’t get any bigger.”

“I’ll knit a few secretly for you, Dawdi,” Mandy said.

Felty tossed the ball of yarn into the air and caught it. “Come in and sit, Noah. Anna made her famous gingersnaps.”

Two years ago, Noah had chipped a tooth on one of Anna’s gingersnaps. They were famous, all right.

“She’s made dozens of gingersnaps,” Mandy said, motioning to the table where several plates of cookies sat. “For all the boys who came on Saturday.”

Noah did his best not to frown. “Denki, but I should probably get to work.”

Felty rocked back and forth a couple of times until he gave himself enough momentum to stand up. He set the yarn and knitting needles on his recliner. “That’s a wonderful-gute shiner you got there. Mandy told us all about it.”

Noah clenched his jaw. What had she told them?

“That happened to me once,” Felty said, eyes twinkling. “Except mine was a rake, not a hammer. I broke my nose and got two shiners.”

Noah glanced at Mandy. Had she told her grandparents a fib and risked her soul to save him from embarrassment? He exploded with gratitude. She merely curled her lips as if Felty were talking about the weather.

“It’s better today than it was yesterday,” Noah said.

“Come in and have a sit,” Felty said again as without warning, he shuffled toward the hall. “Mandy will give you a cookie while I take a nap.”

“A nap, Dawdi? It’s seven in the morning.”

Felty was halfway down the hall. “There’s never a bad time to take a nap.”

Noah’s lips curled upward as Felty disappeared. An eighty-five-year-old man could take a nap whenever he pleased.

“I’m glad you decided to come this morning,” Mandy said, “because I have two presents for you.”

“Presents? You don’t need to give me presents.” Even though he tried to rein it in, his heart galloped at the thought that she cared enough about him to give him a gift. He ground his teeth together and told himself that Mandy was just being kind. She was a nice girl, and she was sorry for him. That was all.

On the other hand, he’d brought
her
a present because something he’d buried deep inside himself a long time ago seemed to come to life every time she looked at him. She didn’t even have to smile. Even when her lips twisted into a scold, his heart did a clumsy flip-flop and his stomach seemed to turn itself inside out.

He studied her face. Her aqua-blue eyes could have brought on a hot spell in January.

He was in big trouble.

Trouble or not, his mamm had taught him to show appreciation where it was due. He stepped into the house, reached into the pocket of his jacket, and pulled out his small tinfoil-wrapped package. “I brought you a present too.”

A grin played at her lips. “Is it food?” She took it from him, and she widened her eyes. “It’s warm.” She unwrapped it and gasped when she saw the marshmallow and melted chocolate squished between two graham cracker squares. “What have you done?” she giggled.

His heart raced wildly at the sound of her laughter. “I know you like marshmallows. I thought you might like a s’more.”

“The chocolate is melty. How did you keep it warm?”

“I packed it in a box surrounded by baked potatoes hot out of the oven. You should eat it now before it gets cold.” He furrowed his brows. “Unless you don’t want it. You don’t have to eat it.”

She looked as if she were ready to burst with delight. “Are you joking? Of course I want it.” She took a big, crunchy bite, and the expression on her face was pure bliss.

“Gute?”

“Uh-huh.” She held it out to him. “Have a bite.”

“It’s all yours,” he said.

She nudged it closer to him. “You’ve got to taste this, Noah. Just one little bite.”

He put his hand over hers and tugged the s’more to his mouth. Up against her soft skin, his fingers probably felt like sandpaper, but he wasn’t about to let go. He kept his eyes glued to hers as he took a bite.

An attractive pink overspread her cheeks. She quickly pulled her hand away. “You are a very gute cook, Noah Mischler.”

“Well, s’mores are at the top of my skill level. I can’t even begin to make biscuits like you.”

A smile played at her lips as she took another bite. “This reminds me of going camping and sitting around the campfire roasting marshmallows and making banana boats.”

“Banana boats?”

“You’ve never tasted a banana boat? Oh, Noah. I’m so sorry. It’s like never having seen a sunset.”

He chuckled. “I’ve lived a very dull life.”

There was one bite left. She hesitated for a second before offering it to him.

He waved her away. “I like watching you enjoy it.”

Her cheeks grew even pinker. “I’m not a timid eater. Mamm says girls should be more demure in their enjoyment of food.” She popped the last of the s’more into her mouth.

“Then you wouldn’t be half so fun.”

She probably couldn’t get much redder, but he wished he knew the words to find out. He loved the way her freckles danced across her nose when she wrinkled it like that.

He realized he was staring when she cleared her throat and lowered her eyes. “Denki for the s’more. My stomach is very grateful.”

“No breakfast?”

“Tuna quiche.”

Noah winced. She didn’t need to elaborate.

Clapping her hands, Mandy went to the fridge. “I need to give you your presents.” She pulled out a white paper package and handed it to him.

He unfolded it. “Two steaks,” he said. “For my eye?”

“I originally went to the store thinking I’d buy a steak for your eye, but when I got there and looked in their meat section, the thought of you holding a dripping, raw piece of meat against your face almost made me gag. So I bought the steaks for you and your dat to eat and more potatoes for your eye.” She pointed to a bowl on the table with potato slices immersed in water. “It’s probably impossible to lay a roof while holding a potato against your eye. I thought you’d like to take them home with you.”

He couldn’t keep a smile from his face. “You’re very kind.”

“And there’s another present.”

He eyed her suspiciously. “You said there were two. The steak and the potatoes.”

She rolled her eyes. “The potatoes don’t count as a present. I’m not that bad a gift giver.”

“The potatoes are a gute gift yet.”

She reached into her apron pocket and pulled out a pair of reflective sunglasses, the kind that made people look like insects instead of humans. “Wear these while you work, and nobody will even catch a glimpse of that eye. You’ll look like a policeman, but no one will have to know about the shiner.”

The warmth swelled in his chest. How much money had she spent on those outrageous sunglasses so he could keep his dignity intact? The pleasant sensation traveled into his arms and hands, legs and feet. Who was this girl who brought him homemade lemonade in a jug she could barely lift and knew what a crescent wrench was, but stuck her pretty nose into his life and thought she knew how to solve everybody’s problems? When they had first met, he was more than happy to slam the door in her face. Now he thought he might burst with the need to gather her into his arms and kiss every one of those adorable freckles.

He pressed his lips together and clenched his teeth before the longing overpowered him. It didn’t matter what he wanted. His mamm had taught him self-control. His dat had given him a healthy dose of humility. Mandy would never want a boy like him to kiss her. She’d probably run screaming for the hills.

She studied his face, and her expression drooped. “You don’t like them.”

He couldn’t let her believe that for one more second. “They’re perfect.”

“I know they’re a little fancy, but they’re the darkest ones I could find.”

His voice cracked with emotion, but he cleared his throat and forged ahead. “I couldn’t have chosen better myself.” He lowered his eyes. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

She flipped the sunglasses open and slid them onto his face. “The best part is that when people look at you, they’ll see their own reflection. They’ll be so busy checking their hair, they won’t even wonder what’s really behind those glasses.”

And they wouldn’t ever know that he was staring at them. Unashamedly and unrepentantly staring.

Unable to resist, he took her hand and squeezed her fingers before she stepped away from him. The surprise on her face was evident before she gave him a little laugh and squeezed his hand in return. Would heaven feel any nicer than this? Would his heart pound and his body feel lighter than air and his mouth curve into a smile without even trying?

The front door opened and Anna bustled into the room with a basket of pinecones and her dog Sparky at her heels.

Mandy pulled her hand from his grasp faster than Noah could have driven a nail into a sheet of corkboard.

“Ach, du lieva,” Anna said. “Oh my goodness, Mandy, I had no idea you were entertaining a visitor.” She beamed so widely that Noah thought he might be able to count all her teeth. That is, if he weren’t wearing dark sunglasses indoors. It made counting teeth a little difficult.

“He’s here to work on the roof,” Mandy said, smoothing imaginary wrinkles from her apron.

Anna walked right up to Noah and studied his face with narrowed eyes. “Is that you, Noah?”

He nodded.

She laughed and tapped him on the arm. “I didn’t recognize you behind those strange spectacles. I thought it was someone here to court Mandy.”

Anna, who didn’t have a speck of guile in her, didn’t mean anything by it, but his heart plummeted to the earth like a block of lead. Anna was looking for a husband for her granddaughter, and it wasn’t him. The sooner he came to terms with his place in Mandy’s life, the better. He was just on Huckleberry Hill to replace the roof.

Mandy tilted her head to one side and gazed at him with a tease twitching at her lips. He couldn’t return her amusement. He didn’t feel like he was in on the joke anymore.

“Felty doesn’t need spectacles,” Anna said. “He got Lasik in August when Ben was here.” She glanced at the empty recliner. “Where is Felty? He’s supposed to be making pot holders. I gave him my special pink yarn.”

“He went to take a nap,” Mandy said.

The wrinkles around Anna’s mouth bunched together. “A nap? At seven in the morning? It wonders me if he isn’t coming down with something.” She laid her pinecones on the table and headed down the hall. “Come on, Sparky. Let’s go see what’s ailing Felty.”

The fluffy white dog padded down the hall after Anna. Sparky hadn’t even waited for Noah to give her a pat. He might as well have been invisible, to both Sparky and Anna. That was what happened when you had a dat who shamed his family and the whole community. Nobody wanted you to marry their granddaughter.

The glint in Mandy’s eye disappeared. “Is something wrong?”

“Nae,” he said, adjusting his handy sunglasses. She wouldn’t be able to read the storm clouds in his eyes. “I should start on the roof.”

“If I can do anything to help, let me know. Lunch is at noon.” She took the steak package from his hand. “I’ll keep this in the fridge until you’re ready to go home.”

“Okay.”

“Are you sure nothing’s wrong?”

He crafted a convincing smile on his face. “I’m wearing a fearsome pair of Englisch sunglasses. What could be wrong?”

She relaxed her concerned expression. “Jah. You could scare small children away.”

Small children and Amish mammis.