Authors: Shelley Shepard Gray
Wednesday, October 14
S
imon wouldn't say that walking back up the Kinsingers' long driveway was one of the hardest things he'd ever done, but it surely felt like it was among the most important.
Last night he'd worked on his farm. He'd trimmed bushes and pruned trees and weeded the flower beds. Later, he'd walked out to the barn and swept the cement floor and tried to envision it not as a place for animals but as a refuge for kids. He began to mentally remove horse stalls and replace them with chairs and couches. Someplace where teenagers would be able to relax for a few hours at a time.
And the more he looked around, the more he realized that his seed of an idea might bear fruit after all. It wouldn't be hard to convert the old barn to the haven he was imagining. More importantly, he had come to realize that the project wasn't only going to be good for kids, but good for his soul, too.
When he'd walked back inside to clean up the last of his
supper dishes, he thought about Tess's visit a few nights ago. Finally, he was coming to believe that she was right. He wasn't perfect. He was actually very far from that. However, the Lord didn't expect or want him to be perfect.
Instead, the Lord wanted Simon to follow his heart. And that heart not only belonged to Tess and his friends . . . it was firmly in Amelia's keeping.
He adored Amelia. He wanted her heart, too, and he knew his intentions for her were true. He wanted to court her with consideration. Take care of her. Be everything she needed. And he knew he could be, too. Because he knew no one would ever love her like he did.
Just before he'd gotten into bed, he remembered something else Tess had told him.
“I'm proud of you,” she'd said. “
Nee,
that's not right. I'm proud of both of us.”
“You think we deserve to feel that way?”
“Oh, yes,” she'd said. “We may be scarred and marked and a little bit damaged, but we're not throwaway people, Simon. We have worth.”
Her words had given him pause. “You really think so?”
“I know it. We're just as good as anyone.” Looking at him pointedly, she said, “Even your Amelia.”
“I hope you're right.”
“I know I am. Because I love you.”
“I, ah, I love you, too.”
“
Gut
. If you love Amelia as much as you say you do, go out and visit her again. Keep trying and don't give up.”
Those words had reverberated in his head all night long.
Now, as he walked to her house, Simon reflected on every
thing he'd done wrong with both Amelia and Lukas. Since his mistakes couldn't be undone, he knew it was time to stop dwelling on them.
Instead, he needed to be honest and open. Amelia needed to know that he was in love with her and that he was willing to do whatever it took to return to her good graces.
Time wasn't an issue. If it took him two days, two weeks, or two months, he was willing to be patient. But he hoped it wouldn't take two years.
Just as he was walking up the front walkway to the Kinsingers' home, Darla opened the front door. “Hi, Simon.”
“Hey.” Though he'd known her almost as long as Lukas had, it still took him off guard to see how petite she was. Maybe it was because she had a rather assertive personality. When they were in school, she'd excelled at bossing everyone around. But now she looked so calm and peaceful; it was obvious that her marriage to Lukas was agreeing with her. She looked pretty in a forest-green dress. It set off her auburn hair and blue eyes.
“I'm glad to see you here.”
“Really? How are things?” Of course, as soon as he asked that question, he wished he'd had the nerve to ask about Amelia.
Studying him carefully, she said, “I'm not sure at the moment.”
He drew to a stop. “Not sure what that means, Darla. Is something wrong with Amelia?”
“I hope not.”
“Darla, talk to me.” He could practically feel his blood pressure rising. Was Amelia hurting? Had she gotten an infection? He'd overheard the nurses telling her that was a possibility.
After taking a quick glance behind her, Darla stepped farther out onto the porch and closed the door. “I was washing a couple of
Oscar's paw prints from the windowsill when I noticed you through the glass. I guess you're calling on Amelia all proper-like now?”
“I am.” He couldn't help that his voice was guarded. Finally, having the chance to call on Amelia publicly meant too much to him.
“Good luck with that.” She didn't sound sarcastic . . . but she didn't sound all that hopeful, either.
Even though Darla's opinion didn't really matter to him one way or another, he decided to get things out in the open. “I might as well know. Are you for me and Amelia becoming a couple or not?”
“I'm for it, of course.”
“Of course?” He didn't even try to conceal his amazement.
“Well,
jah
. To be sure,” she said with a puzzled smile. “You are a grown man who had to be a grown-up even when you were young. And while I don't know everything about your past, I don't need to know it, either.”
“That's not what Lukas thought.”
She shrugged. “Lukas is my husband, but that doesn't mean we have to agree on absolutely everything. Especially not matters of the heart. All that matters to me is one simple thing.”
“What is that?”
“That ever since I've known you, you've had a soft spot for Amelia.” Her blue eyes twinkled. “Even when we all were in school together.”
Embarrassed, he winced. “I didn't realize I had been that obvious.”
“You weren't. Lukas didn't notice you pining, of course, but that don't mean much. He's always had the mill on his mind.”
“And you, from time to time.”
She grinned. “
Jah
. And me from time to time, too.” She shrugged. “Anyway, after everything we've all been through, the last thing I'd ever want to do is interfere with anyone's hope of happiness.”
“I appreciate that.” Tired of waiting, he stepped toward the door. “So, may I go on in?”
“You may. Amelia's in the back hearth room. But I think I should warn you that she's probably not going to greet you with the same enthusiasm that I did.”
“I'm not expecting her to.” Just before he turned the knob, he thought of something new. “Darla, is Amelia still worried about Lukas and Rebecca giving their blessings?”
“Oh,
nee
. She's moved on from that.”
She looked like she was about to burst out laughing while he felt ready to pull his hair out. “Do you mind telling me what has got you so amused?”
“Only that she's been fairly snippy with all of us. Mighty un-Amelia-like. She's pretty much told everyone to stop interfering.”
“Those feelings might be justified,” he said before realizing that he was as much to blame as her siblings.
Practically reading his mind, she said, “I don't think she's real thrilled that you decided to leave the house the other day instead of sharing your past.”
“I've got a lot of explaining to do.”
“Maybe so.”
“I'll do that, then. I have to. I can't stay away. But if my past upsets her, please know that I kept it from her for a reason.”
“I understand.” Lowering her voice, she said, “For what it's worth, I had to tell Lukas quite a few things about what had been going on in my house that were hard to share.”
“Are you glad you did?”
She nodded.
Thinking of how Tess had reminded them they were worthy of love and friendship, he said slowly, “I'll try to do the same thing, then.”
“Do you think you're going to be able to do that?” she asked gently.
“I can try. Otherwise, I'll regret it for the rest of my life.” He had far too many regrets already.
She nodded. “Good to hear, but, uh, just in case you haven't heard . . . she's had a caller.”
He turned to face her directly. “I know about Pierce.”
“This is another one. Benjamin Miller.”
Honestly, the moment his back was turned, men started coming out of the woodwork! “Who is he?”
“He lives over in Millersburg.”
“Millersburg ain't all that close. How does he know Amelia?”
“They met at a charity auction or some such a year ago.” Folding her arms over her chest, she smiled. “I thought you might find that noteworthy.”
“She doesn't like him, does she?”
“I don't think so. She hardly knows him. But he's right fond of her. At least Lukas thought he seemed that way on Monday when he stopped by.”
“I would have thought Lukas would be monitoring these visits better.”
“I think Lukas might be a little wary about interfering. And I think the only reason Amelia even saw him was to make a point to her brother. If I were you, I'd tread carefully.”
“I'll do my best,” he said before he opened the door and went
inside. As he walked down the short hallway, past the main living area and around the kitchen, Simon couldn't begin to count the number of times he'd followed this same path. He'd come over to see Lukas and Levi almost every day when he was little and at least once a week before he finally left.
The house was full of warm memories for him. Security, too. No matter how bad he looked or how down he might have been, the Kinsinger family had treated him as if he was a valued guest.
Never before had he experienced the trepidation he was feeling as he went in search of the one girl who'd always had his heart.
Amelia didn't know it, but he was only fragile around one person in the world and that was her. She had the power to crush him. It was really too bad he hadn't weighed the consequences of his actions before he'd told her that he couldn't see her anymore.
He walked quietly, half afraid he was going to wake her up. Half afraid that he'd have to immediately face her piercing blue eyes glaring at him like he was an interloper.
Sure enough, turning the corner, he was caught in her gaze. And because he was a master at pretending he was far more composed and cool than he was, he simply nodded his head. “You're awake. Good.”
She blinked. “That is all you have to say to me?”
“Of course not,” he said as he circled around the end of the couch and sat down on the cushioned ottoman so he could face her directly. “I've got a lot to say to you. The question is, are you ready to listen?”
Those pretty eyes of hers narrowed. “Simon Hochstetler, you have a lot of nerve coming over like this, full of attitude.”
“And you have a lot of nerve letting every man in the county come wandering in to take your pulse.”
“I am hardly doing that.”
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Darla told me some man named Benjamin stopped by on Monday.”
She looked away. “He was respectful. Polite, too.”
“I bet he was.” Simon didn't even try to hide the derision in his voice.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
He almost didn't tell her what he was really thinking. Almost. But because she meant more to him than anything, he knew he owed her more than mere words. He owed her the truth. “It means that I bet he sees youâand all that you areâand combines it with the Kinsinger name, and is willing to do just about anything to gain your acceptance. The fact that you were willing to give him any time at all is amazing. The fact that you gave him your smile and acceptance so easily? It's a miracle.”
She frowned. “He seems to like me.”
Seems?
Her insecurity broke his heart. How could someone who looked like her, who was from a family like hers, have even an ounce of doubt about herself? “Of course he likes you. You're Amelia Kinsinger. You're
you
. What isn't there to like?”
She opened her mouth, shut it as if she was suddenly at a loss for words, then grimaced as she shifted positions.
Immediately, he threw away his argumentative stance. What was he doing, chewing on her about so many things that didn't matter when she had just been released from the hospital? He lowered his voice as he leaned down closer to her. “Are you in pain? Do you need something?”
“Nee.”
“Water?” Remembering her fondness for hot chocolate, he said, “How about some hot cocoa?”
“It's bright and sunny out, Simon.”
He wasn't sure what that signified. “Does that mean you don't want any?”
“You would be correct.” Rearranging herself again with a small grunt, she turned her head. “Let's talk about something else.”
Switching places, he took a seat in the comfortable chair next to her. As he realized that she wasn't kicking him out, he relaxed. This was why he'd come to see her. So they could spend time together and so she'd learn to trust him again. “Name it,” he said.
Then he braced himself for whatever was about to come next.
A
t first Simon thought his heart was pounding so hard, it was beating in his ears. Then he realized the sound was coming from the Kinsingers' beautiful grandfather clock ticking in the hallway. It was the only sound that could be heard while he waited for Amelia to speak.
Still attempting to look far less rattled than he was, Simon leaned back in the comfortable leather chair and propped one foot on an opposite knee.
“Simon, tell me about Tess and Jeremy,” Amelia said softly.
And just like that, the last of his composure slipped away. Even hearing his siblings' names caught him off guard. “My brother and sister?” he asked slowly. “Like I told you earlier, Tess is a pharmaceutical rep. She lives north of Columbus but is going to be in this area more often because her boss gave her a new territory.” He cleared his throat. “As for Jeremy, well, I haven't seen him in over a decade. Not since he left our house.”
“Tess hasn't seen him, either?”
“
Nee,
she did.” Hating how much it hurt, he made himself continue. He had to do this for Amelia. “The last time she saw
him, he was hanging around a bad crowd and doing things he shouldn't.”
“Are you talking about him drinking or doing drugs?”
“
Jah
. He was doing drugs.” He shifted in a weak attempt to make his body relax. “I don't want to sound harsh, but he's most likely out of my life for good.”
“Poor Jeremy. I don't remember him real well, but I do remember him being really tall and liking chocolate.”
“He was tall. And he did like chocolate,” he said with some surprise. He hadn't thought about that in years.
“He was always nice to me.” Her bottom lip trembled, but she held her composure. “Simon, I don't remember you ever mentioning them during any of your visits.”
“That's because there wasn't much to talk about. They both left when I was only eleven or so.”
“So you weren't close to them? Not ever?”
“I was.”
That had been the problem, of course. He'd been too close to them. He'd depended on both of them to shield him from the worst things that happened in their house. When he was a little boy, they had. But after they left, he'd realized they could only take so much. Their father had made sure of that. Growing up in that house had instilled a need to take care of oneself first. To do anything else had been risky.
“Why haven't you tried to keep in contact with them?”
“Staying in touch is something both people have to want. I couldn't stay in contact with two people who didn't want me. I had no idea where they were. I only reconnected with Tess by accident.”
“I'm so sorry. I remember when I was a little girl, Lukas always
liked you to come over here, but he never said why.” She flushed. “And I never asked.”
“You were a little girl and I wouldn't have told you the truth even if you had asked me.”
“Because it was easier to keep it to yourself?”
“Because it was easier to pretend it wasn't happening.”
Her gaze turned soft. True compassion shown there. That compassion, that care, that acceptance was why Simon had gone against Rebecca and Lukas's wishes and pursued her. Receiving such compassion was as tempting to him as liquor to an alcoholic. Yet, unlike a bottle of gin, he couldn't imagine any ill side effects of being near her. She was everything he'd ever wanted.
“How did you end up in prison?”
He was so relieved she wasn't asking more about his family, he said lightly, “I told you. I was foolish and stupid.”
“And taking drugs.”
He jerked his head into a semblance of a nod. “Some. But I canna even blame that on the drugs. I simply made some bad choices and ended up paying for them.”
When she continued to stare at him, it took everything he had to meet her gaze. “What was it like?”
He pretended he didn't understand. “What was
what
like?”
“Prison.”
Now she needed details? “I don't like to talk about prison with anyone. I really don't want to talk about this with you.”
“Because?”
“Because it was bad, Amy. It was hard and boring and scary, too. All that you need to know is that I was in, but I got out and I don't intend to ever go back.”
“Well, I don't want to simply talk about goats and my leg and the weather. I want to know you. The real you.”
“I'm afraid you won't like the real man you might find.”
“I am fairly sure that I already know him.” Her voice hard, she said, “Come now, Simon. Please, trust me. Tell me about things that matter.”
She was right. He needed to do this. “Okay,” he said slowly. “Prison was difficult. It was, um, about how you would expect.” When she simply stared, he gave her what she wanted. “All right, fine. There were bars everywhere. They were white and they seemed to always either be peeling or freshly painted. The walls were gray and continually marked with dirty fingerprints and who knows what. It smelled like sweat and cigarettes and bleach. And it was filled with men who were broken and guards who had no shame. It was noisy and bright and the days were endless and the nights worse.”
“Did you have a roommate?”
She looked so hopeful, he almost covered his face to hide his look of dismay. “Um, not at first. But then I did.”
She bit her lip. “Did you get along?”
“Amelia, we were in prison, honey. No one made friends.”
“You look upset. Did . . . did he hurt you?”
“
Nee
. He was just a scared kid. And I . . . well, I was fairly angry and mean then. Not too many men wanted to mess with me.”
She seemed to process that for a moment. “People have talked about you, you know.”
“I bet they have.”
Pointing to the sleeves of his shirt, she said, “Are you ever going to show me your tattoo?”
“Jah.”
Figuring he might as well get it over with, he said, “There's more than one. I've got several.”
Amelia was looking at his arms as if trying real hard to imagine what they looked like. He didn't blame her; he would have done the same thing.
“Show me,” she said at last.
Here it was. Exactly what Lukas said would happen, and exactly what he'd mistakenly pretended he didn't care about. Feeling as if he was about to expose far more of himself than he was ready for, he slowly unbuttoned one of his shirt cuffs and rolled it up.
She watched intently. He could almost feel her examining each inch of skin as it was revealed. Little by little, the first band of barbed wire became visible.
Then the next.
Finally, the third.
Because he tried to keep them covered up when he was around others, his skin was pale, making the black ink stand out even more than it would have otherwise.
When his shirtsleeve was rolled up as far as it could go, which was just before the bulge of his bicep, he stretched out his left arm and moved it a bit so she could see all the bands, as well as the intricate design on his forearm in blue and red.
She leaned forward. Then, to his surprise, she reached out and carefully traced one of the bands. “It looks so dark, I thought it might be raised.”
Was that all she had to say? “
Nee
. My skin is smooth.”
“Are there more?”
“Jah.”
“More bands?”
“
Jah
. And some writing. And . . . and a mark from the prison.” He pointed to his right shoulder blade. “That was my first. I've got twelve in all.”
“Twelve. Did they hurt, Simon?”
“Jah.”
Some hurt more than others. Some not enough. He'd stopped marking himself when he'd realized that he hadn't enjoyed the tattoos themselves as much as the process of getting them. He'd realized then that he'd wanted to feel the sharp pinch of the needles. Then he could remember that he was still capable of feeling . . . that he hadn't become completely numb.
“Can I see the others, too?”
“Since I'd have to take off my shirt to show you, no.” He smiled then. “Darla would toss me out and I'd never get to return.”
To his surprise, Amelia looked disappointed. “Don't say no. Keep your promise, Simon.”
It seemed he could deny her nothing. He hesitated, then released the top button near the collar. Her eyes widened, but she said nothing as he freed the others. Reminding himself that he was only baring his chestâsomething that most English men and women wouldn't think twice aboutâhe pushed the fabric off his shoulders.
When his shirt was crumpled in his hands, he waited for her to look her fill. When she craned her neck, he turned so she could see the tattoos decorating his shoulders and upper back.
After a long moment, she nodded.
“Danke.”
Feeling exposed, he shook out the shirt and slipped it back on.
Once almost all the buttons were fastened, he made himself meet her eyes. “Are you shocked?”
She tilted her head to one side. “Do you want me to be?”
“
Nee
. Well, maybe.”
“All I feel is disappointment.”
“Because I damaged my skin?”
She laughed softly. “Not at all. I'm simply disappointed that you came to spend time with me all those afternoons but you never told me anything about your past . . . or showed me those tattoos.”
He felt a pinch in his spine. That bit of pain reminded him that speaking of his past was only going to bring pain and remorse. “I just did.” He reached for her hand. “Now, can we talk about us?”
After a lengthy pause she said, “Simon, right now there is no âus.' ”
He rolled down his sleeve and buttoned the cuff. “You're still not going to let me back into your good graces? Not even after I took off my shirt?”
“Come now. I have two brothers. Your decorated bare chest wasn't all that shocking.”
He'd thought it was. He'd thought showing her the tattoos he'd tried so hard to keep from her view was almost as revealing as if he'd opened up his soul to her. “I don't know what else you want from me. I showed you my tattoos and told you about my siblings. I even talked about prison.”
Staring at him quietly, she whispered, “I think there's more.”
“I'm not going to take my pants off, too. There ain't no more tattoos to discover.”
To his surprise, she smiled. “I'm not hunting for tattoos, Simon. I'm hunting for more secrets.”
He broke out in a cold sweat. “I can't tell you all my secrets.
I'm sorry, but I canna talk about what happened at my parents' house. Not yet.”
At last she slipped her hand in his. “All right. Not yet.”
“I'm not giving up on us, Amelia.”
For a split second, he could have sworn he spied relief in her eyes. “I will see you soon, then.”
“
Jah
. You will. Now I'm going to go out to the barn and check on that silly goat of yours. After I make sure she's as happy as she can be while hungering for you, I'll leave.”
Her lips almost twitched. “
Danke
for checking on Princess.”
Unable to help himself, he reached out and cradled her cheek in his palm. Allowed his rough fingertips to brush against her soft skin, feel the warmth that she always gave him. It might have been his imagination, but he thought she pressed her cheek against his hand. Almost as if she, too, was seeking his touch.
Encouraged, he got on one knee and moved closer. Allowed his lips to brush against the tender skin of her ear. “Hey, Amelia?”
She trembled.
“Jah?”
“Don't let Pierce call on you anymore. Or that man from Millersburg.”
“His name was Benjamin.”
Smiling against the nape of her neck, he whispered, “It don't matter. You won't be needin' to see him again.”
“Nee?”
“No. You see, I'm courting you now. Just me.”
“Hmm.”
Feeling like he needed to make her understand, he said, “You won't regret this, Amelia. You see, no one will care for you like I do. No one.”
“All right, Simon,” she said at last, her voice breathless. “From now on, there is no one but you.”
After pressing his lips to the spot where her pulse was racing on her neck, he got to his feet. “
Danke,
Amelia.” He nodded, then turned.
Only when he was halfway to the barn and out of sight did he smile. At last, she was his.