Ties That Bind (25 page)

H
ot water sluiced down Ariana, from the top of her head and over her back as she rinsed shampoo from her hair. The warmth eased the tightness across her shoulders, but it did little for the knot in her stomach.

She'd yet to see Salome, and she had an awkward apology to get through when she did see her. By the time Ariana had arrived home after talking with Quill, it was past midnight. Abram had been standing watch, looking for her. His worry was evident, and she'd felt bad for not leaving him a note. Despite the hour they'd moved to the porch steps and talked. She'd told him everything before leaning her head against his shoulder and falling asleep. He'd nudged her and sent her to bed. It was just as well. She'd been too sleepy to wait any longer for Salome to come home.

Ariana turned off the water and grabbed a towel. It didn't take long to comb her hair and to dress. Taking bobby pins and a prayer Kapp with her, she left her hair free to dry while she went downstairs and into the kitchen.

Salome was nearly elbow deep in sudsy water, doing the never-ending job of washing dishes.

Ariana's skin prickled with heat as she fought with her pride while needing to apologize. As she set the pins and Kapp on the table, the floor beneath her feet creaked, and Salome pulled her attention from staring at the waning suds. When she looked at Ariana, she seemed different somehow. Her eyes were puffy, as if she'd been crying. Regret twisted through Ariana, making her sorry for all the indignation she'd unleashed on her sister. How was it possible to love someone so much and yet rail at that person with unbridled anger?

Salome's weak smile quivered, but she seemed frozen.

Ariana lowered her eyes before grabbing a dry towel from the drawer. “I'm sorry.” She went to the dish drainer. “I shouldn't have come at you the way I did.”

Salome pulled her soapy hands from the water and put them around Ariana, embracing her tightly. “You have nothing to be sorry for. Anyone who cared would be just as upset to learn such news. I see that now. I should have seen it before.”

Ariana wondered if that meant she would stay. “I need you to know that I will love you no matter what, and that is the truth, regardless of how intense I come across.”

Salome took the dishtowel from Ariana and wiped soapy bubbles off her shaky hands. “I don't know what the future holds for any of us…” She sobbed before licking her lips and gulping in air. “But for now we're staying and rethinking our plans.”

Why did Salome appear to be on the verge of a meltdown? Had Ariana done that to her?

Salome gestured to the bookshelves-turned-baking-shelves. “Susie finished wrapping up everything last night for you. What are you going to do with all these baked goods?”

“Not sure.”

Salome got a mug out of the cupboard. “When I heard someone getting a shower upstairs, I prepared a fresh pot of coffee.”

“Denki.” Ariana took the mug and filled it. Her lungs begged for air. Their words were nice enough and their sentiments sincere, but she imagined it would be easier to trudge through several feet of mud than to move normally in this room. Had their argument sucked out all the normalcy between them?

The screen door thumped, and Abram walked inside. “Well, it's about time, Sister. A brother could starve to death waiting on you to get up and cook breakfast.” He had bits of hay on his shirt, and she imagined he'd been tending the cows.

Salome put her hands on her hips. “Hey. I fixed you something to eat.”

“True.” He removed his straw hat and hung it on a spindle on the ladder-back chair. “Don't know what it was, but you prepared it.”

Salome seemed to waver between hurt feelings and taking it in stride. She raised a finger and wagged it as a weak smile graced her face. Chuckling, Abram ducked while moving away from her.

“So what time are Mamm and Daed coming home?” Ariana set her mug on the table.

“They're home.” Abram sat. “I guess they're sleeping in even later than you. Good thing it's a between Sunday.” He looked behind him, toward the stairs. “I want to talk to Quill.” He spoke his last words softly.

Ariana twisted her damp hair into a bun, pinned it in place, and secured her prayer Kapp. “Why?”

“I want to look him in the eye and ask about his plans to help you get the café.”

“Oh, good.” She picked up her cup of coffee.

Salome dug a spoon into the sugar bowl and slid it to Ariana. “He's different than you think. If he says his goal is to help, it is.”

Abram shrugged. “Not sure your opinion is unbiased.”

Salome glanced at Ariana, and Ariana knew what she was thinking. She was surprised, maybe disappointed, that Ariana had told him of Salome and Emanuel's plans.

Ariana stirred sugar into her coffee and took a sip, weighing her words. “He's quiet and trustworthy.”

Salome's face seemed etched with pain, and tears welled.

Ariana had traversed many a mountaintop and valley to stay by Salome's side, but she seemed unusually emotional today. “Did I say something wrong?”

Salome shook her head. “I…I just…forget sometimes how close you two are.”

Abram raised a brow and mumbled about being twins. Salome drew a ragged breath, looking as if she was ready to bolt from the room. Was she just now realizing all the ties between the siblings, the ties she had been all too ready to sever?

“Knock, knock.” Rudy's voice rumbled through the kitchen.

Ariana jolted, and a nervous current went through her as she realized she'd agreed to do as Quill thought best without even considering talking to Rudy first. “Hallo.” She hurried toward the door. “Kumm.”

He stepped inside. “Morning.” He smiled at her before he looked to Salome and Abram. “Hi.” He gave them a nod and a brief smile before returning his attention to her. He took her hand into his. “I just wanted to check on you.”

She turned to Abram and Salome and then motioned toward the door. “We're going for a walk.”

Abram nodded, and Ariana tugged on Rudy's hand. They didn't say anything else until they were on the long walking trail between her house and Quill's. How many times over the years had she trod this old path? It went through pastureland and some patches of woods. The trees overhead rustled with the autumn breeze. The lush greenness was beginning to yield to hints of fall's gold and red colors. Rudy picked up a stick as they walked. Ariana went to a log and sat, and Rudy propped a foot on it.

He poked the stick against the ground. “I hated to leave last night, but when you didn't return, I didn't have a choice. What's going on?"

Ariana explained everything as best she could, and when she heard the words coming out of her mouth, she realized how absurd her actions sounded.

Rudy gripped the stick with each hand and broke it in half. “You did what?”

“I agreed to trust Quill's guidance concerning the benefit for the café.”

“No.” Anger flashed across his face. “Absolutely not.”

“I understand how you feel. I thought the same thing, but—”

“Ya, I'm sure you did until you let persuasion-guy talk you into trusting him. Come on, Ariana. You of all people know what he is like. I don't want to see you get hurt or humiliated in front of the community by following his advice.”

“Your points are valid, but…I agreed and, more than that, I think I was right to do so.”

He pushed his foot away from the log and turned, facing the sky and yelling at the canopy of trees overhead. “This is unbelievable! Who does this?”

She'd not seen this side to him although he'd told her that he could get quite loud when he was riled. He gave her lots of room for emotion, and she wanted to do the same for him. “I do.” She kept her voice soft, hoping to defuse his anger, but as he stomped around, crunching dead leaves under his boots, she wasn't sure he'd heard her.

He raised his arms, exasperated. “Why would you open your life and put your name at risk for a disreputable man?”

His anger was disconcerting, which was making it harder for her to think. “I…I'm not sure I can explain it. I looked him in the eye, and I think he's trustworthy about this one thing.”

“No one is trustworthy on just one thing. No one. Either he has inner character that guides him on a regular basis, or he doesn't. You're willing to put your reputation into the hands of an ex-Amish? I can't believe you'd do that.”

“He wants me to get the café.”

“Why?”

“Maybe as a thank-you for helping his Mamm.”

“He's ex-Amish. You're entrusting your reputation to a guy who can't even show his face in this community. He's trouble for you, which makes him trouble for me. I tried to talk to you about marrying me, and you avoided the discussion, but you're willing to accept a business proposal from Quill!”

Ariana tried to decipher what he was feeling and put it into words. What she heard was that he was upset about two things, and it seemed best to address each one separately. “You're right that I might get hurt. He could submarine me, but that's a chance I'm willing to take. I won't break. I promise you that.”

“He's done it to you before—broken you. How do you know that's not his goal this time?”

“I…don't think that's who he is.”

“That's it?” He made a fist and pounded it into his other hand. “We're talking true damage to your heart and your reputation, and that's all you have to say?”

Ariana stood. “I need you to calm down.”

“And I need you to get a clue!” He flailed his arms at her.

She wasn't sure what to think of this display of anger, but she wasn't afraid of him. He would never physically lash out at her or anyone. She moved in closer, standing her ground while she looked into his eyes. “Calm down.” Her two words were as firm and soothing as she was capable of.

He stared into her eyes, and she could see him returning to himself. “Sorry.” He put his hands on her shoulders and released a breath.

“Why such anger?”

He dropped his hands to his sides. “I don't know.”

“I have some suspicions, and the first one begins with the misunderstanding about the talk of marriage. I didn't take what you said about marrying as a proposal that needed a response but as the opening of a discussion on the topic, much like when I was dating someone else and you thought I should stop. Your exact words were ‘I think you should date me.' ”

He pursed his lips, twisting them to one side. “And then months later I said, ‘I think you should marry me.' ”

“Yep, and the dating thing worked out pretty well, don't you think?” She lifted a brow, flirting with him.

“I guess that depends on whether we're still dating after that outburst.”

“Rudy Herschberger,”—she put her hands on her hips—“if I have no more grace than that, no willingness to put up with loudness while aiming to hear your heart,
you
should be the one to walk away.” Did he not realize how often he went out of his way to help and to understand her? Was it a one-way street? A woman could cry and yell and give her all to open a café, and a man couldn't raise his voice without being counted as unworthy?

He went to the log and sat, intertwining his fingers in his lap. “Look, even if Quill's help is exactly what you need to obtain the café, I don't want you involved with him at all—not even letters or phone calls, let alone anything else. I hate the idea of him being around you.”

She rolled her eyes. “Baby clothes.”

“What?”

“You heard me. I said ‘baby clothes.' That's what Quill Schlabach is.”

He laughed. “You know, I thought I had come up with every possible name to call that man. Apparently I was wrong. Care to clarify?”

“Sometimes my sisters and I go to the attic and open old boxes of clothing to try to find something that will fit one of my nieces or nephews. I'll look at some of my old baby clothes, and a sense of nostalgia and wonder will wrap around me. Some of those feelings take me back to a time that has precious memories, but I
never
want to return to that time. None of the innocence or enjoyment of that time outweighs the here and now. Do you honestly believe any memories of Quill have more power than what exists between us? Or that I could possibly be drawn to a man who stands in rebellion against all I hold dear?”