A Picture of Love Read online

  Esther cringed, glad Naomi had swept the wood floors before their guests arrived.

  “Would you like to join us for kaffi and shoofly pie?” Lizzie attempted to smile, but she obviously didn’t have her teeth in correctly again, which gave her a lopsided smile that was comical. Thankfully Anna Mae was gracious and didn’t stare.

  “I don’t think I can eat one more bite of food. Supper was wonderful, and I overdid it.” Still smiling, she said, “But kaffi would be nice.”

  Lizzie motioned for her to follow them into the kitchen where they had a small table and four chairs. It was where she, Esther, and Naomi ate most of their meals. The dining room was for guests and decorated fancier than anywhere else in the house. Naomi had a knack for arranging lovely place settings. Their kitchen was cozy and functional, and Esther felt sure Anna Mae would feel comfortable.

  After they were seated and each had a cup of coffee, Lizzie sliced herself a large piece of pie. Like Anna Mae, Esther couldn’t eat another bite. She didn’t understand how Lizzie stayed so tiny. The woman ate all the time.

  “Your sohn is a fine-looking fellow.” Esther opened the conversation since Lizzie was shoveling pie into her mouth as if she hadn’t just eaten a huge meal.

  “Danki.” Anna Mae took a sip of coffee, then circled the rim of the cup with her finger. “He’s had a hard time.” She glanced at Esther, then back down at her cup as she frowned. “His fiancée died of cancer about a year ago, and the boy can’t seem to get over it.” She paused before she looked at Esther again. “Sarah was a wonderful young woman, and he loved her so much. But unfortunately, he’s cut himself off from available women and says he will never love anyone but Sarah.” She shook her head. “His daed and I are hoping time will heal his heart. But for now, he just isn’t interested in a romantic relationship.”

  Lizzie stopped chewing and shook her head. Esther shared her sister’s disappointment. “I will pray for his heart to mend,” she said. “Our Naomi is going through a similar situation. She was also engaged until her fiancé broke up with her and left our community. Naomi isn’t blood-related to us, but we think of her like a dochder, more like grossdochder, I suppose. And we hate to see her so sad all the time.”

  Anna Mae glanced out the kitchen window and the hint of a smile played on her lips. “Naomi is lovely. Perhaps there is a friendship brewing at the very least. It’s not like Amos to take off on a walk like that with a woman. I’m afraid that back home he’s practically stalked by women who consider him quite a catch.”

  Esther caught the pride in Anna Mae’s statement, but she had to admit, if the man was half as nice as he was attractive, she could understand him having a lot of female admirers.

  “Naomi is as beautiful on the inside as she is on the outside.” Lizzie had finished her pie, wiped her mouth, and managed to get her teeth straight. “It’s a shame you and your sohn won’t be here longer than a few days. Maybe those two would get to know each other and . . .” Lizzie raised both eyebrows and smiled.

  Anna Mae blinked her eyes dreamily. “Ach, how I would love for Amos to find love again.” She shook her head. “But I just don’t see it happening. At least not any time soon.” Smiling at Lizzie, she said, “But I wish we could stay longer, too, just to give them a chance and see what happens.”

  “Then stay.” Lizzie straightened in her chair, grinning. “We won’t charge you for any extra days,” she said in a whisper, almost as if she was trying to keep Esther from hearing, even though she was right across the table.

  “Nee, I couldn’t do that. If we stay longer, I will pay.” Anna Mae spoke with enthusiasm, and hope found its way into Esther’s heart as well.

  “Please stay as long as you’d like.” Esther glanced out the window. The young people were out of sight.

  Lizzie pressed her palms together and lightly clapped her hands. “Watching the sunset is romantic.”

  Anna Mae nodded in agreement. “Ya, it is. Even if those two don’t take to each other, I’d love to spend more time with mei family I haven’t seen in a long time.”

  Esther was afraid to be too hopeful. But fear blocked the voice of God and was never a good emotion to cart around. She would try to pray her doubts away. It sounded like she and Lizzie had an ally, someone equally as interested in playing matchmaker. But then Anna Mae frowned.

  “I’m afraid Amos won’t want to stay longer than we agreed on. He owns his own construction company, and it’s a slow time of year for him. I could only get him to commit to the trip if we returned Sunday.” Anna Mae sipped her coffee. “It’s a shame. Naomi seems like a lovely maedel. But, in truth, Amos just isn’t ready yet.”

  Esther’s hope fizzled, but Lizzie strummed her fingers on the table, lips pressed together and eyebrows drawn inward. Lizzie’s hope hadn’t floundered one bit. If anything, she was already plotting ways to get the young couple together. Esther admired her sister’s determination, but Anna Mae knew her son. And she sounded certain he wasn’t ready for love. Still, Lizzie’s compassion for someone who had lost a loved one was always well received. Maybe she could help Amos with his healing process. That could be God’s only plan for Amos right now. But Esther was going to try to keep her cup half full with hope that maybe a romance was on the horizon as well.

  Three

  Naomi and Amos sat down on the bench near the pond. Lizzie and Esther called it the courting bench, and Naomi recalled all the time she’d spent on this bench watching the sunset with Thomas. She hadn’t been back to this spot since he’d left. The only other person who used the bench was Gus. Naomi had seen him fishing here a couple times. There was an area between Gus’s cottage and the daadi haus Mary and John lived in, where the bench was visible. It was otherwise hidden from view behind a cluster of trees.

  “This is a great spot to watch the sun set.” Amos stared straight ahead. “The colorful backdrops of those trees behind the corn are reflected in the water. This would be a perfect scene to paint, to capture the beauty of the sunset.”

  Naomi arched an eyebrow. “Do you paint?”

  Amos turned to look at her and grimaced. “I used to. It relaxed me and challenged me to reproduce the beauty of a great landscape.” He paused, looking back over the water. “I haven’t painted in a long time.”

  Naomi assumed he hadn’t painted since his fiancée died. “I paint,” she said before she bit her bottom lip. “At least, I used to.”

  “I haven’t painted since Sarah died.”

  Naomi took a deep breath. “I haven’t since Thomas left.”

  They were both quiet.

  “Did you ever paint this?” Amos waved his hand across the pond just as a duck fluttered its wings and landed amid the colorful hues, followed by three more who gracefully landed atop the sun-kissed water.

  “Ya, I did. Several times.” She turned to him and smiled. “But it’s so hard to capture the beauty of what God created. I’m actually not a very gut painter, but like you, it relaxed me and challenged me.”

  “I’d like to see one of your paintings.” His gaze met hers. “You can tell a lot about a person through their art, whether it’s putting a brush to canvas, writing a book, or some other form of creative outlet.” She felt her cheeks begin to flush, as she was strangely flattered.

  “I-I’ve never shown anyone the painting I consider to be my best one. The canvas is underneath mei bed.” She frowned. “Probably covered in dust.”

  “I understand. I never thought mei paintings were worthy replicas of the landscapes I attempted to recreate. Do you paint with oils or acrylics?”

  She was glad he didn’t push the issue about seeing her painting. “Acrylics. What about you?”

  “Same.” He rubbed his chin as his eyes stayed on her. “Oils take too long to dry, in mei opinion.”

  They were quiet, both turning their attention to the sun making its final descent. It would be dark in about thirty minutes.

  “I’m dreading this wedding on Thursday.” Amos shook his head, still
peering out over the pond. “I know that’s a terrible thing to say, and I should be rejoicing for Suzanne and Isaiah.” He chuckled. “Although I’ve never even met these cousins of mine, and I’m still not sure how we’re related.”

  Naomi squeezed her eyes closed before she turned to him and sighed. “I’m dreading it, too, and it feels so freeing to say that out loud. I’m not related to Suzanne and Isaiah, but I’ve known them all of mei life. They are a lovely couple, very much in love, and so deserving of all the happiness in the world.” She paused as she attempted to explain her feelings. “But if it were up to me, I’d sit this one out.”

  “Um . . . I hope I’m not being too forward by asking this, but will your, uh . . . The man you were supposed to marry, will he be at the wedding?” Amos scratched his chin again. “I would think that would make it unbearable.”

  Naomi had mixed feelings. A part of her longed to see Thomas. Had he missed her? He hadn’t written to her since he moved. Would seeing her rekindle their romance? She reminded herself the reason he gave for breaking up with her and decided that seeing him would only twist the knife that was still in her heart.

  “I don’t know if he will be there.” She squinted as the sun lowered even more, casting powerful rays directly into their eyes.

  Amos took off his hat and laid it gently atop her prayer covering, tilting it slightly downward to block the glare. “I’m a carpenter and work outside all day. I’m used to the bright sunlight.”

  Naomi didn’t think his eyes were any more accustomed to the intense glare than hers, but it was a nice gesture.

  He laughed. “It’s a gut look for you.” He gently tapped the rim of the hat, and Naomi giggled.

  “You’re lying, but danki.”

  I laughed. And it felt good. But just as quickly as joy tried to force its way into her heart, the door slammed. Her thoughts returned to the wedding in two days. Would Thomas be there?

  * * *

  “I don’t know why you bother being nice to that cantankerous old coot.” Lizzie thrust her chin forward, pushing her lip into a pout.

  “Language, Lizzie.” Esther finished covering a plate of leftovers from supper. She briefly put a hand across her stomach and took a deep breath. Something wasn’t right. She’d had a burning, nauseating feeling on and off since supper. “Besides, there was a lot left, and the man has to eat.”

  “Ha!” Lizzie said much too loudly. “Look at him. He ain’t missing any meals.”

  “I’m sure he misses an occasional home-cooked meal.”

  “Well, you’re a better person than I am. Every time we do anything nice for him, he returns our kindness with bitterness and no thanks at all.”

  “That doesn’t mean we should stop being kind.”

  “Well, there is the old saying . . . Kill ’em with kindness.” Lizzie grinned. She’d already shed her teeth for the evening and was in her nightclothes. “So, go kill him.” She snickered as Esther left the kitchen.

  Esther couldn’t help but smile. This house would be a dull place without Lizzie in it. She was often inappropriate and sometimes rude, but not a day went by when there wasn’t laughter—either at her or along with her.

  Naomi had wandered in just before dark, Amos by her side. And the girl was smiling, which was rare. Esther tried not to swim in the pool of hope too long, but it was hard not to keep the emotion afloat, at least a little.

  She put on her black cape since the night air would be chilly, hoping the pangs in her tummy would settle soon. Then she began the walk to Gus’s cottage, her steps lit by the propane lamp in the yard, and then only by her flashlight. She stepped onto the worn path that connected the three properties. In the distance, she saw a glow from a lantern. It was early, and Gus was probably still awake. Even though he wasn’t Amish, the cottage had never had electricity, so Gus had to suffer through the hot summers like the rest of them. Tonight he likely had his windows open to enjoy the crisp breeze.

  Esther slowed her stride and took a few moments to appreciate a cloudless sky filled with stars, then she breathed in the scent of burning wood. Mary and John already had a fire going so early into fall. She glanced at the daadi haus, and all was dark. Esther smiled. The couple was likely tucked in early and trying to make a baby. They’d been married five years, but the Lord had yet to bless them with a child. Esther had overheard Mary weeping about it more than once, and a few times she’d even cried on Esther’s shoulder. They were all on God’s timeframe, but Esther prayed Mary would become pregnant soon.

  She lumbered up the steps to the cottage and knocked on the door. Esther preferred to leave nonperishables in a tin on the porch—muffins, cookies, or other snacks—to avoid a conversation, more like a confrontation, with Gus. But when she brought him an occasional hot meal, she thought it best to hand it to him directly.

  She took a breath and braced herself. Their renter would likely accuse her of disturbing him from whatever mundane task he’d been doing, something he would insist was very important. And as Lizzie had said, the old grump had never once said thank you. Esther did her best to tolerate him, and Gus seemed more tolerant of her than Lizzie. Maybe because Esther didn’t kick him or provoke him the way her sister did, but Gus was still insufferable.

  Esther would always be bewildered why her mother took pity on this man. She and Lizzie had asked about it not long after Gus became a tenant in the cottage, citing the disrespectful way Gus treated people. Their mother’s response was vague but firm, saying only that he needed a home. Regina Yoder was a good woman, but Esther’s gut told her there was more to the story.

  The door flung open, and Esther’s jaw dropped as she took a step backward. She blinked a few times, not sure it was Gus in front of her. He held up a lantern. There was plenty of light. It was him.

  Then a string of curse words flew from the man’s mouth, language so foul that Esther almost dropped the plate of food. She set the meal on a small table next to Gus’s rocking chair, then covered her ears. When he appeared to be done with his obnoxious rant, she lowered her hands.

  “What have you done?” Esther should have turned and high-tailed it back home, but she was too curious not to ask.

  Gus pointed to his gray hair, no longer in a ponytail, but chopped raggedly to his jawline. He’d shaved his beard and had two nicks trailing blood from his chin. She wondered if maybe he had gone mad. To Esther’s knowledge Gus had never cut that ponytail. Lizzie used to constantly tell him he needed a haircut, but he’d counter, saying he’d cut his hair if she did. Since Amish women don’t cut their hair, that usually ended the conversation.

  “I tried to cut my hair!” Gus shouted, but as he pointed to his horrendous haircut, it was hard to miss his fingernails. They were usually long and dirty, but tonight they were trimmed and clean.

  “I see that.” Esther awkwardly cleared her throat and pointed to the small table. “I-I brought you leftovers from supper, and—”

  He abruptly turned around and pointed to the back of his head. He’d tortured those tresses even worse than in the front. Then he started throwing curse words all over the place again. Esther covered her ears again before rushing down the steps.

  “Woman, where are you going?” he yelled.

  Esther spun around, stomped back up the stairs, and pointed her finger at him. “Gus Owens, I will not tolerate that language.” Her stomach cramped even more as anger built. “And ‘Woman’ is neither mei name nor Lizzie’s. Do you hear me?”

  It was unlike Esther to lose her cool this way. She prided herself on staying calm, no matter the situation, but she had listened to years of Gus’s trashy talk. And the fact that she wasn’t feeling well left her less tolerant of his behavior.

  To her surprise, he didn’t start hollering back at her, and she turned to leave, expecting him to lash out before she got very many steps away.

  “Wait!”

  Esther kept going.

  “Wait!” he yelled again. Then Esther heard a faint “Please?”

&
nbsp; She stopped but didn’t turn around, instead glancing at the sky again to make sure it wasn’t a full moon. Did she just hear Gus Owens say please?

  Turning around slowly, she didn’t move toward the cottage, but she shone the flashlight in his face. He quickly put a hand up to block the glare.

  “What do you want, Gus?”

  “What do you think I want, Woman? I need some help!”

  Esther didn’t think she’d ever cursed in her life, but this moment was trying her patience as she spun around and starting walking again. Whatever was going on with her stomach was becoming a priority, and she wasn’t in the mood for Gus.

  “Wait, Esther. I’m sorry I called you ‘Woman.’ Thank you for the food. Now will you please get back here and help me?”

  Sorry. Thank you. Please. All in one sentence. Tempted to keep walking, she turned and trudged back to the cottage, laying a hand across her stomach again. “Think before you speak, Gus. If I turn around to leave again, I won’t be coming back.” She flinched. Blood was drying in a trail down his chin.

  He stepped aside so she could go into the cottage. Usually the smell kept her from ever stepping inside, but now she noticed a welcoming aroma, something lemony. And when Gus held up the lantern, Esther dropped the flashlight. She was too shocked to immediately reach for it.

  “The cottage is clean.” She looked at him, again wondering if he’d gone mad or was drunk. “It, uh . . . looks quite nice.” Finally, she bent to get the flashlight.

  “Oh, oh.” He went back outside and returned with the plate of food. He stashed it in the refrigerator, then with pleading eyes, said, “Can you fix my hair?”

  “Is it clean?” Esther reminded herself that sometimes she needed to think before she spoke, too, but previously she’d wondered what might be growing in that hair and beard.

  “Yeah, it’s clean!” He grabbed a stool and carried it from a small bar separating the kitchen from the living room. Slamming it on the floor, he went back to the kitchen and returned with a small pair of shears, the kind used for trimming bushes.