A Love Made New (6 page)

I
rene had offered to help clean up after the wedding at the Schrocks', and she was about to head out the door when she saw her mother descend the stairs, carrying her purse. “I didn't realize you were coming with me,” Irene said, wrapping a navy blue scarf around her neck. “I almost left without you.”

“I'm not going to the Schrocks',”
Mamm
said.

Irene saw the shadowed yet determined look in her mother's eyes and knew exactly where she was going—the post office. Not the one in Langdon, which was the closest one to Birch Creek, but the one where
Mamm
had a post office box no one but she,
Mamm
, Andrew, and Joanna knew about. She gave her mother a small nod as she buttoned up her coat.

Mamm
smoothed her hair, even though it was already tucked neatly underneath her white prayer
kapp
. “The taxi will be here soon. I'll be gone all day.” She paused at the front door. “Do you need anything while I'm out?”

“Just for you to be careful.”

Mamm
paused and smiled. “I will. I'll see you later.”

After her mother walked out the front door, Irene went to the mudroom off the kitchen to get her boots. She glanced at the door to the new addition of the house, where Andrew and Joanna had decided to stay last night instead of engaging in the usual tradition of visiting friends after the wedding. Andrew and Asa had worked together to build the addition several months before, which included a small kitchen and bathroom, right after Andrew and Joanna had been officially engaged. Then the wedding had been canceled, and Andrew had admitted that he'd been thinking about tearing the addition down. When he and Joanna reconciled, Andrew and Asa expanded the space a little more. It wasn't exactly a
dawdi haus
, but it did provide privacy for her brother and his new wife until they had their own family. When that happened, then her mother—and probably Irene too—would move into the addition and let Andrew and Joanna have the main house.

Irene sighed as she shoved on one black snow boot. She had mixed feelings about a future that entailed her living in the addition with her mother. Since her father's future with their family was unknown,
Mamm
had resigned herself to living apart from her husband. Irene didn't like the idea of her mother being alone. Yet that's what would happen until, or if ever, her father returned.

But while Irene wasn't thinking about marriage, or even dating, she wasn't settled on the prospect of being a spinster. Actually, she was very unsettled about the idea. Not that there was anything she could do about it. No viable prospects lived in Birch Creek.

No. There had been one . . .

She shoved on her other boot. Whether she ever married was in God's control, and she wouldn't wring her hands over it. She left the house and went to the barn to hitch up the buggy
she shared with her mother. As she headed to the Schrocks', tiny flakes of snow drifted in the air, and by the time she reached her destination, another thin layer of snow blanketed the ground. So far January hadn't been too snowy, and Irene could still see patches of green grass peeking out of the snow here and there, but it was bitterly cold and she was eager to get inside the warm house. She pulled into the driveway, passed the grocery and tool store on her left, and tethered her horse to the hitching post by the barn. She took a blanket out of the buggy and covered her horse with it, then shivered as she went to the main house.

Aden welcomed her inside. “Sadie mentioned you were coming over this morning.”

“
Ya.
I told her I would help clean up.”

“There's not too much to do,” he said as they walked into the toasty-warm kitchen. She took in the covered containers and plates on the table and counters. “Everyone was very generous,” Aden added.

“I can see that.” She wasn't surprised. When it came to gatherings in Birch Creek, there was always more than enough food. Andrew and Joanna had taken some of it home, but the rest of the wedding guests insisted on leaving the leftovers with the Schrocks. The new bishop, Freemont Yoder, had taken only one container of pepper cabbage salad, even though his large family could have used the extra food. Although he wasn't supposed to be, Freemont could be a prideful man when it came to taking care of his family. But no one was perfect, and so far he had been a good and fair bishop. After what had happened with Aden's father, she wasn't going to complain.

“Sadie's in the store.” Aden leaned his hip against the counter.

“I'm surprised you opened today.”

He shook his head. “We didn't. Sadie needed some time to
catch up on the books, though. With the excitement and preparation for the wedding, she's been spending less time in the office, so she was eager to get back to work.” He gestured to the table of food. “Help
yerself
if you're hungry.”

“I ate before I came over.” She took in the huge spread again. “Maybe I shouldn't have, though.”

Aden grinned, and Irene regarded him for a moment. He'd always been a nice
mann
, but a loner while they were in school. Before his marriage to Sadie, Aden had been withdrawn, but now he was friendly, outgoing, confident, and clearly in love with his wife. Irene was amazed at the transformation—and how loving and being loved could drastically change a person for the better. At least it had in Aden's case.

“Abigail should be down soon.” Aden drummed his fingers against the back of one of the kitchen chairs.

“
Geh
ahead and get on with
yer daag
,” Irene said, shooing him out of the kitchen. “I'll get started in here.”

Looking relieved to be set free from any potential kitchen duty, he said, “I think I'll see how Sadie's doing with the books.”

Irene hid a smile as he left the kitchen.
I'm sure that's not all he's going to do.
With the store closed, he and Sadie would be alone. She sighed again.
Be content, whatever the circumstances.
And she should be, now that she'd given over her nonexistent love life to God. Yet she didn't feel content, not always, and especially around couples.

She was relieved when Abigail entered the kitchen carrying a stack of small oval rag rugs. She'd done enough ruminating on the subject, and she was eager to do something, anything, to get her mind on something else.

Abigail greeted Irene with a smile, her round cheeks lifting
and making the corners of her brown eyes crinkle. “
Gut
morning,” she said.

“Morning, Abigail.” Irene returned her friend's smile and then caught something flicker in her eyes. The middle Schrock sister was known for her spunk and warmth. And today her smile was friendly enough. Yet there was something a little off about it, as her smiles had been since her breakup with Joel Zook. She wouldn't blame Abigail if she wasn't as cheerful as she seemed. Yet she did seem to take everything in stride, continuing to be pleasant, to crack a joke here and there, and to handle her parents' deaths with grace. Still, Irene suspected that not all was what it appeared to be where Abigail was concerned, although she hoped it was just her imagination. Abigail deserved the happiness her sisters had.

“
Danki
for coming over.” Abigail nodded at the pretty rugs hanging over her forearm. “It won't take me long to run these out to the store. Sadie's been expecting them. She also mentioned she had some more orders for me.”

“That reminds me,” Irene said, “
Mamm
wants to put in an order too.”

Abigail nodded, her smile slipping a bit.

“Is that okay?” Irene asked.

“
Ya
, but it might be a little while before I can get it to her. I'm falling a little behind with so many orders.”

“That's a
gut
thing,
ya
?”

“It is.” She paused. “I have to admit, I'm getting overwhelmed. This was supposed to be a hobby for me, not a business. But Sadie's so excited about the success of the rug sales . . .” She shrugged. “I'm doing the best I can.”

Irene leaned against the counter. “Do you need some help? I
don't know how to weave a rug, but I'm a fast learner. I can also help cut fabric and sew . . . whatever you need done.”

Abigail's brow lifted. “That's a great idea. But I couldn't pay you very much.”

“I don't need much pay. It will be fun. Maybe you can teach me how to weave once you get caught up on the orders.”

“I will. It's not hard.”

“I tell you what,” Irene said, going to Abigail. “Why don't you work on the rugs today and I'll take care of all the clean up?”

Abigail shook her head. “
Nee.
I couldn't let you do that.”

“
Ya
, you can. And I don't mind. Like Aden said, there's not much to do. Just a bit of picking up and straightening.”

“I don't want to keep you from
yer daag
.”

“Trust me, I don't have anything pressing to do at home.
Mamm
's gone and”—she couldn't restrain herself from rolling her eyes—“I'm sure Andrew and Joanna wouldn't complain about having a little more privacy.”

A swift shadow passed over Abigail's eyes. Then it disappeared. “I'm sure they wouldn't. I'm glad they're happy. Joanna deserves it. So does Andrew.”

“Since that's settled, let me get started on cleaning.”

“I appreciate it, Irene. And
yer
offer to help with the rugs.”

“Maybe I can start after I finish with the
haus
. I'm sure it won't take me all
daag
.”

“I'll be back in a bit, then.” Abigail went through the mudroom, opened the back door, and left.

Irene looked at all the food on the table. She could combine a few things into one large container. Cookies, mostly. After she finished that task, she stacked the empty containers and plates next to the sink. When she glanced at the kitchen floor, she squinted. Crumbs were scattered everywhere amid traces of dirt
tracked in from outside. She'd tackle this mess before washing the dishes.

After sweeping the floor, she found the mop and a bucket in the mudroom. She went to the sink and put the bucket in it, turned on the tap so the water ran slowly into the bucket, then looked underneath the sink for vinegar. Vinegar mixed with warm water always worked magic on a wood floor. She searched the cabinet but didn't see any. When she heard the back door open and close, she said, “Abigail, do you know where the vinegar is?”

“
Nee
.”

Irene stilled at the deep voice behind her. Solomon Troyer.

I
rene slowly stood and turned to look at Sol. He was standing in the doorway to the mudroom, as if hesitant to fully enter the kitchen. His dark blue coat covered his broad torso. She tried to pull her gaze away from him, but she couldn't. He'd always been more muscular than Aden. Snowflakes blanketed his shoulders and were visible on the band of his straw hat. When she met his green gaze, she felt a familiar, and unwanted, stirring.

Even before he'd started flirting with her last year, she'd always been physically attracted to Sol. It was hard not to be. But there had also been an underlying darkness about him too, which had confused her at the time. Now she knew the source of it. She'd been lucky not to fall in love with him then. He would have broken her heart the same way her father had broken her mother's.

Yet she continued to look at him, oddly powerless not to.

“
Yer
bucket is overflowing,” he said.

She spun around to see that not only was the bucket full, but the sink almost was too. “Oh
nee
.” She turned off the tap, but not before water sloshed onto the floor. More water spilled when she
picked up the bucket. “I'm supposed to help clean up, not make a bigger mess.” She put the full bucket on the counter so the sink could drain, then looked for a dish towel. Finding one lying on the counter nearby, she picked it up, knelt down, and started wiping up the excess water.

To her surprise Sol crouched beside her with another dish towel, helping her dry up the spilled water.

“I've got this,” she said. “You don't have to help.”

But he didn't say anything, just continued to clean up with her. Once the floor was nearly dry, he stood first. She rose right after him and her shoulder crashed into the bottom edge of the bucket, tipping it toward her. She gasped as warm water flowed over her and dripped onto the floor.

Sol's eyes widened. Then his lips twitched, almost forming a smile.

Irene blew out a breath and snatched the bucket off the floor. “It's official,” she said. “I'm pathetic. Who else would make two messes while trying to clean up one?”

“You're not pathetic. Here.”

She thought he was going to hand her the dry dishcloth he was now holding. Instead he used it to pat the water from her shoulder. After a moment he slowed his movements, his eyes scanning her from shoulder to toe. A startled look entered his eyes, and he almost shoved the cloth at her as he jumped back. “Sorry.”

She barely heard his apology. His nearness, coupled with the still-dark emerald hue of his eyes, almost made her speechless. “I-it's okay,” she said. Why did she sound breathless?

He moved farther from her. “I . . .” He gulped. “Do you know where Aden is?”

She saw his features go blank, and whatever had been in his
eyes disappeared. If there had been anything there at all. That was enough to bring her partially to her senses. “He's in the store with Sadie.”

Sol nodded, then hurried out of the house without saying another word.

Irene turned around and leaned over the sink. Her dress was wet, and despite the heat in the kitchen she felt cold. She couldn't say the same for her cheeks.

No, Sol wasn't the same man she'd been attracted to last year. He was different, in a way that made her interest in him months ago pale against what she was feeling now . . . and she had no idea why.

Sol shook his head as he walked from Aden and Sadie's house to Schrock Grocery and Tools. What had he been thinking, touching Irene Beiler like that? In the past he wouldn't have missed the chance to flirt with her. He would have used the opportunity to get close to her, closer than he had been in the kitchen. To sneak a kiss. Possibly something a little bit more.

That was before his life changed. Before God saved him from himself.

But today something in her eyes had shot straight through his soul, enough that it scared him. She should be repulsed by him. Instead, she seemed the complete opposite. He'd seen the longing in her eyes. Recognized it, because he felt the same thing.

But Irene was a good woman. She was sweet and kind and had a heart bigger than Birch Creek. She was the kind of woman who deserved a man of integrity, one with an unblemished past and no baggage.

A man the opposite of Sol.

A brisk wind seemed to go through him as he opened the door to the store. He saw Abigail behind the counter, staring in confusion at several pieces of paper spread in front of her. She looked up as he walked inside. “Hi, Sol.”

He nodded his greeting and gestured to the papers. “Looks like you're studying for a test.”

“I might as well be.” She leaned forward and put her chin on her hand. “I don't get this.”

“What?”

“Paperwork. Specifically accounting paperwork.” She scowled. “Apparently I haven't been recording the sales of
mei
rugs,
yer
birdhouses, or Joanna's baked goods correctly.” Then she straightened. “That doesn't mean you haven't been getting
yer
money and the correct amount,” she added quickly.

“Oh, I know. I've been paid right and fair.”

“But Sadie has a system.” She frowned again. “I'm not a fan of systems. She knows that.”

Sol didn't want to get in the middle of Sadie and Abigail's business. “I'll leave you to it, then. Irene”—he nearly fumbled over her name—“said Aden is here.”

“Back in the office.” Abigail gathered up the papers into a crooked pile. “I'm done with this today. I'm going back to the
haus
.”

Sol nodded and headed for the back of the store. The office door was partway open. He was about to knock when he saw Aden and Sadie in a passionate embrace through the crack.

He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. That was the last thing he needed to see. He was glad for his brother, who had always loved Sadie, even when she despised both him and Sol. But seeing Aden kissing his wife just drove another nail into the
coffin of hope he had for a happy future. He couldn't imagine getting married. He didn't know how to be a husband, and he especially didn't know how to be a father. All he knew was violence. Control through fear. Coping by drinking . . . something that had never completely gone away.

“Someone out there?” he heard Aden say.

Sol took a breath as he pushed open the door. He fought to appear nonchalant. “Hey, Aden. Sadie.”

Sadie nodded at him, her cheeks flushed, and sat down at the desk. He swallowed, remembering the last time he'd been in this office with her.
Daed
had a horrific plan for Sol to marry her so his father could get his hands on the lucrative natural gas rights on the Schrocks' property. And Sol had gone along with it, not because he loved her, but because he had seen it as his escape from a life he hated. But Aden had thwarted the plan, angering both his father and Sol, even though his actions had been out of love.

And while Sadie forgave Sol for the past, there was still a distance between them Sol was sure would always be there.

He turned to Aden as Sadie focused on a stack of papers on the desk. “I wanted to talk to you about the birdhouses.”

“You're going to keep making them,
ya
?” Sadie asked, looking up. “They're selling very well.”

One thing he'd learned about Sadie since her marriage to Aden was that she was very serious about the family business. The grocery and tool store had flourished under her management. “
Ya
, I'll still make them. I like creating them, better than the carpentry work I was doing before.”

“
Gut
,” Aden said. “I'm glad you've found something you enjoy.”

Sol knew his brother's words were genuine, and he marveled
at how easily Aden had forgiven him for the abuse Sol had put him through most of their lives. For Sol, forgiving himself wasn't easy. Right now it seemed impossible. “I thought about making a few different kinds of houses instead of the same plain ones. Also, maybe painting some of them. I'll need to find someone who can paint, though. I'm terrible at it.”

“Sadie's a
gut
artist,” Aden said.

Sadie shot Aden a quelling look. “I don't have time to paint birdhouses.”

Her tone wasn't rude, but it held double meaning. She didn't have the time, but she also wasn't going to go out of her way to help Sol, either. He didn't resent her for it, not when it was his fault she felt that way.

Aden's brow furrowed as he nodded apologetically to his wife. “Sorry, I shouldn't have mentioned it.”

Sadie's expression softened. “It's okay.” She turned to Sol. “Once the honey comes in from the hives, I anticipate we'll have even more business.”

Sol nodded. “I understand. Do you know anyone who might be interested in painting them?”

“I'll ask around,” Aden said with a nod.

“
Danki.
I'll pay them, of course.”

“I'll let you know if I find anyone.”

Sol was relieved Aden had taken the initiative on this. “Guess I better get back to work,” Sol said, pushing his hat lower on his head. “Sadie.”

She lifted her chin and gave him a tiny nod. “Sol.”

He went back outside and to his buggy. The snow was coming down harder now and he needed to get home before it became too slushy on the roads. As he drove down the Schrocks' driveway, he glanced at the house. From here he could see Irene
and Abigail through the kitchen window. He couldn't take his eyes off Irene, remembering the softness of her features when she chuckled over spilling the water. Then he remembered himself and stared straight ahead. He didn't need to think about Irene or any other woman.
You get what you deserve
. After the sins he'd committed, he deserved nothing.