Mary Davis - Courting Her Secret Heart

“What about her?”

“You gave everyone a little description except her.”

“Did I? Hmm. Deborah is...irres—rarely here.”

Was she about to say irresponsible ? True, Deborah hadn’t been around when her vater had been hurt, but that didn’t necessarily make her irresponsible.

When Miriam finished milking, Amos hoisted the full bucket and carried it to the house.

Miriam opened the door to the kitchen and allowed him to enter first. The kitchen bustled with female activity. He was used to just his mutter in the kitchen, alone, doing all the work by herself.

Deborah looked up from her task of churning butter with the youngest girl and smiled at him.

He responded in kind.

Her gaze flickered away from him to where Miriam appeared, and Deborah’s smile faltered, then she pushed her mouth up in a less genuine smile, but one of encouragement.

He wished he could bring back that first smile. What had caused the change? More important, how could he bring back the first smile?

“Right this way, Amos.” Miriam motioned with her hand for him to follow her. “That goes in the back fridge until morning.”

Amos aimed his apologetic shrug toward Deborah as he obediently complied. When he returned, Deborah’s mutter stood in his path.

Teresa Miller put her hands on her hips and gave him an impish smile. “We do so love company, but you can’t walk through my kitchen without introducing yourself.”

“I’m Amos Burkholder.”

“Which one of my daughters are you courting?”

“Um, none. I’m here to help out on the farm while Bartholomew is healing.”

Shock and concern wiped away the older woman’s smile in an instant. “What? What’s wro—”

One of the older girls hooked her arm around her mutter’s shoulders and escorted her out of the kitchen. “Let’s go see how Vater is doing.”

Another of the older sisters stood in front of him. “Supper will be ready in a little bit. We’ll call you when it’s ready.”

This must be Lydia, the peacemaker. The one who left with their mutter must have been Hannah, the ultraresponsible one. Or it could be vice versa. He wasn’t sure. He nodded and went back outside to finish up some chores.

Soon, another one of the sisters came out to retrieve him. “Supper’s ready.” She kept her head down.

“ Danki. I’ll head in with you.” He walked to her side. “I didn’t mean to upset your mutter earlier.”

Her head remained down and her voice soft. “You didn’t. She was just worried about Vater .”

It had seemed like more than worry. But then, what did he know?

This shy girl must be Joanna. It would probably be best if he didn’t stress her by trying to hold a meaningless conversation just to quiet the silence.

Inside, he washed up and waited to be told where he should sit at the table.

Bartholomew sat alone at the far end of the table, his broken leg propped up on a chair. The women still scurried to and fro.

The youngest, who looked to be more like five than eight, crashed into him and wrapped her chubby arms around his waist. “Broffer Amos.”

He wasn’t sure what to make of this little one. “ Hallo , Sarah.”

She giggled.

One of the twins, he guessed Lydia, hurried over and disentangled the young one from him. “I’m sorry about that. She likes to greet people with a hug.”

“That’s all right.” He gazed down into the upturned face of Sarah. Her slanted eyes and flat nose told him all he needed to know. Down syndrome. “I’m very pleased to meet you.”

Lydia smiled at him but spoke to Sarah. “Go sit down. It’s time to eat.”

Sarah grabbed his hand. “Sit by me.”

He looked to Lydia, who gave him a nod. He sat, and quickly the others did so, as well. Bartholomew blessed the food, and everyone served themselves except Sarah. Hannah, who sat on her other side, dished up for her.

Bartholomew grimaced in pain. His medication had probably worn off. “Amos, I certainly do appreciate you coming to help out in my hour of need.”

“I’m glad to be here.”

Teresa tilted her head. “Hour? It’ll be a mite more than that.” Her anxiety from earlier had been erased.

The girl directly across from Amos crinkled her nose. “I bet you don’t even know who all of us are.”

Center of attention. “You’re Naomi.”

He went around the table and named each of the family members.

Naomi narrowed her eyes. She obviously didn’t think he could do it.

He wasn’t so sure himself but had guessed right. Miriam’s descriptions had helped. When he’d named Deborah and she smiled at him, something inside did a little flip. That was the smile he’d been looking for. He wanted to stop and stare at her but knew he shouldn’t.

He cleared his throat to regain his train of thought and shifted his attention to Bartholomew. “I could, of course, travel home each night and return in the morning, but I would be able to get more work accomplished if I stayed on here.”

Bartholomew swallowed his mouthful of food. “What did you have in mind?”

“I thought I could sleep in the barn.”

Teresa spoke up. “I won’t hear of that. The barn is no place for a person in winter.”

Bartholomew gazed gently at his frau . “What would you suggest, Mutter ?”

“Joanna and Naomi can move in with Miriam and...” She waved her hand in Deborah’s direction. “And her sister.”

A sadness flickered across Deborah’s face, and Amos’s heart ached for her. He knew what it was like to be hurt by family.

Naomi leaned forward. “I don’t want to move rooms and be crowded in.”

“Hush,” Bartholomew scolded his daughter, and she huffed and folded her arms. Then he turned back to his frau . “You would have a young man who isn’t a family member under the same roof as our daughters?”

Teresa’s gaze flittered around the table, and the inappropriateness of the situation registered on her face. “Oh. I...”

Amos didn’t want to cause a fuss. “I don’t want to displace anyone. The barn will be fine. There’s an old woodstove still connected in the tack room. I can move a few things around and set up a cot.” It was preferable to home.

With supper concluded and the arrangements settled, Amos headed out to fix up his new but temporary living quarters.

He located some firewood and lit the stove. Then he made a clearing in the center of the room and set up the cot that was used when an animal was sick and someone needed to stay in the barn to keep a watchful eye out.

A gray tabby rubbed against his leg. He crouched and petted him. “What’s your name, hmm?”

The cat sauntered over to the stove, sniffed it and lay down in front of it.

“Don’t get too comfortable. You can’t stay in here at night with the door closed. You can warm yourself until I find some blankets.”

When he exited the tack room, Deborah stood outside his door with an armful of quilts. She smiled. “We thought you might need these.” She handed him the pile. “There’s a pillow, as well.”

“ Danki. These’ll be better than the horse blankets I was planning to rustle up.”

“Bitte.” Her gaze lingered on him a long moment before she turned to leave.

He wanted to say something to make her stay. But what use would there be in that? Instead, he watched her walk out.

* * *

The following morning, Deborah stole glances at Amos throughout breakfast. Several times, she caught him looking back at her.

Vater hadn’t come to the table for breakfast. Fortunately, his and Mutter’s bedroom was on the main floor, so he wouldn’t have to go up and down the stairs with a broken leg and injured arm. Though Mutter had scurried around the kitchen earlier, she had gone in to sit with Vater . Since Vater’s accident, less than a day ago, Mutter had acted stranger than usual. One moment she sat calmly, and the next she scampered about like a nervous squirrel looking for lost acorns.