Brides of Iowa (53 page)

She gave him an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, Ben. I didn’t mean to be rude.” She slid a surreptitious glance beyond Ben’s shoulder toward the door to the rear office, wondering if Everett could hear their conversation. “The other ladies in the hotel kitchen are expecting me back in a few minutes, so I really can’t linger.”

Ben took a step forward. The hopeful expression on his face pricked her. She’d never noticed before the depth of his eyes. There was something warm and welcoming about them. She could well imagine some young lady falling beneath their spell and sighing with contentment in their captivity. The thought brought a tiny smile to her lips.

Ben’s hands fumbled, and he stuck one hand in his pocket as if he didn’t know what else to do with it. “This won’t take long, Tillie. I—I was just wondering if you planned on going to the harvest picnic and the barn dance. I mean, I didn’t know if”—he glanced toward Everett’s office door—“anyone had asked you yet.”

Tillie drew in a breath and held it. She didn’t want to hurt Ben’s feelings. She liked Ben. He was a pleasant fellow, honest, hardworking, and polite, but his invitation caught her off balance. Her purpose in taking time away from her lunch break had everything to do with the picnic and dance. In fact, her planned errand included something positively scandalous and bold. She intended to march straight into Everett’s office and ask him herself. But she hadn’t planned on running into Ben.

She could honestly say that she’d prayed about it. Most of the nighttime hours she’d spent tossing and turning had been filled with whispered prayers. In spite of her repeated petitions, she hadn’t felt the affirmation she’d sought. Impatience chewed at her good sense. Waiting had always been difficult for her, but how long did God intend for her to wait on His answer? A flash of caution shook her. She truly didn’t have peace over what she was about to do. Maybe encountering Ben was God’s way of stopping her from making a huge mistake.

Apparently, her hesitation communicated indecision to Ben. “Well, you think on it a spell, Miss Tillie. Guess I don’t need an answer right now. But since the picnic’s just a little over a week away…” He didn’t need to finish the sentence, and Tillie knew she wasn’t being fair to make him wait for an answer. If Everett had asked her weeks ago when she’d first hinted about it, she wouldn’t be in this predicament. Because of his reticence, she found herself putting Ben off.

She looked down at her entwined fingers. “Ben, I…”

Ben gave her another lopsided smile with a small sigh of resignation. His eyes traveled again to the door of the inner office and back to her, like he read her mind. “I know, Miss Tillie. I was just hoping is all. Maybe I’ll see you there.” He retrieved his hat and plopped it back on his head, tugging at the brim. “Good day, Miss Tillie.” He stepped out the door, leaving it standing open, and ambled across the street.

Guilt skewered her as she watched Ben retreating toward the livery with shoulders slumped, and it was all Everett’s fault. He’d had plenty of opportunity to ask her. She blew out a pent-up breath and raised her hand to knock on the office door, only to have the door open and her knuckles collide with the very man she came to see.

“Whoa.” Everett caught her hand, his fingers wrapping around hers for the space of two heartbeats. A tingle shot up her arm and accelerated her pulse. He abruptly released her fingers and yanked his hand up to cover his face.

He took a step backward. “Are you all right?”

At the moment, she wasn’t certain how to answer that question. Their impromptu meeting in the doorway had left her none the worse for wear on the outside, but a war was raging on the inside. She narrowed her eyes and plunked both hands on her hips.

“Everett Behr!”

An expression of expectation arched his eyebrows. “Yes?”

She marched past him into the office, vaguely aware of the dimmed light with the window shade partially pulled down. She sat on a chair only to bounce back up again an instant later and pace across the room. Exasperation curled her fingers into fists held tightly to her sides in an effort to keep them from reaching out and grabbing Everett’s hand away from his face.

“Sometimes you make me so angry!”

Mild surprise flitted across his face, at least the part of his face she could see. “What have I done?”

Irritation climbed up her frame and spilled over. “Nothing. That’s just the problem.”

“Oh?” His mouth tipped into a half smile.

His quiet amusement rankled her even further. A fleeting nudge signaled her to hold her tongue and her temper, but she shoved it away and barged ahead. She thrust both hands out, palms up, fingers splayed. “Everett Behr, you’ve got to be the most aggravating, pigheaded, prickly man I’ve ever met!”

He tucked his chin back a bit and blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

“Argh!”
She spun around and turned her back to him.
Count to ten before you say anything else.
“You—you—” she sputtered. “
Be ye kind one to another, tenderhearted.…
” She whirled back around. “You are a stubborn man.”

“Mm. I’ve been called worse.” He reclined against the edge of the desk, seemingly unperturbed by her outburst. “I’m having a little difficulty, however, understanding why you’ve taken the time to come all the way over here just to tell me I’m stubborn.”

“And aggravating and pigheaded!”

He covered his mouth with his hand and muffled a cough. “And prickly.” He folded his arms across his chest. “Would you mind telling me what this is all about?”

She could have sworn she heard a grin in his voice. Tears threatened to embarrass her, but she clamped her teeth together and swallowed hard. She took in his familiar form, swathed in shadows as always. How her heart longed to draw him out of those shadows.

“Everett, why can’t you see yourself for the man you are? The man on the inside. Because that’s the man I see.”

His posture stiffened, and a hint of sarcasm threaded his tone. “You must not be looking hard enough.”

“You won’t let me.” She thrust her hands in the air in frustration. “Every time I see you, you either turn away or cover your face. You hide in the shadows and refuse to let anyone come close. I thought we were friends, Everett. No, more than just friends. At least I’d hoped so. But if you keep hiding behind this wall you’ve erected around yourself, how will I ever know for sure?”

He unfolded his arms and braced his palms against the desk, lowering his chin and staring at the floor. “Tillie, open your eyes. You say you see me for what I am. Well, what I am is ugly. I can’t be what you want me to be, and that’s the reality of it.” He turned and walked around the other side of the desk. “I happen to know Ben was planning on asking you to the picnic and barn dance.”

The tears that tried to choke her earlier sneaked back into her throat. “He did.”

“So are you going?”

“I don’t know.”

Everett blew out a breath, sounding as exasperated as she. “What do you mean you don’t know? What are you waiting for?”

“I was waiting—hoping—that you…” Her original plan seemed to be crumbling at her feet.

“No, Tillie. I can’t.” His words sounded frozen.

She drew herself up and raised her chin. “Well, I came to tell you there isn’t a man in this town who appeals to me as much as you do.”

Everett shook his head. “Tillie, you aren’t listening. You’re being foolish, making Ben wait for an answer.”

“So it’s foolish I am, is it?” She plopped both fists on her hips. “I suppose I’ve been foolish to go walking with you in the evening. Have I been foolish to sit by the creek and share personal thoughts and cares?” Her voice rose in pitch as her throat began to tighten. “Are you telling me I’ve been foolish to pray for you?”

With every word she came closer until they were glaring at each other across the desk. She planted her palms on the desk and leaned in. “For your information, I do know my own mind and heart, but I’m beginning to doubt if you’ve ever listened to your heart. I think you’ve lied to yourself. You’ve talked yourself into believing you aren’t good enough for polite company. Well, let me tell you something, Mr. Everett Behr. You’re wrong.”

Characteristically, Everett turned away. With his back to her, he stepped to the window and tugged the shade, darkening the room a bit more. “Tillie, stop this. Go back to the hotel. We both have work to do.”

His cool dismissal crippled her. She tried to draw in a deep breath, but her lungs rebelled. “So that’s it? That’s all you have to say?”

He opened a file drawer and pulled out some papers, flipping through them as though they were of great importance.

“Go to the picnic with Ben.” His reply stung. This wasn’t the same Everett with whom she’d spent leisurely evening hours, walking and sharing her thoughts. In fact, the man in front of her now seemed more like the old Everett, the one who didn’t care who he hurt. The former arrogance was missing, but the same coldness she remembered cloaked him once more. She huffed out a stiff breath. “Maybe I will.”

“Good,” he said, his quiet voice taking on a cynical tone as he reached for another file. “It’s about time you took my advice.”

This wasn’t turning out the way she’d planned at all, and it was her own fault. She’d allowed her temper to break its restraints and run amok, instead of letting compassion control her. The tears finally won the battle and slid silently down her cheeks.

Everett’s acerbic tone surprised even him. He didn’t relish telling her to accept Ben’s invitation. The very words carved another scar—this one across his heart. But what else could he do? Tillie had accused him of being pigheaded, but he suspected she could match him stubborn for stubborn. There was no other choice but to make her angry enough with him that she’d want to seek other companionship. Her kindness and compassion were so clearly etched into her words and actions that he’d seen the reason she had reached out to him from the very beginning. As much as he’d enjoyed her friendship, it was time for her to move on.

He listened for her stomping footsteps retreating, punctated by the slamming of the door, but he heard neither. When he turned, she was still standing there, but the picture she made wasn’t at all what he anticipated. He expected her anger. He didn’t expect her tears.

An unseen fist belted him in the stomach and sent a bitter lance careening through his chest, robbing his breath. His fingers curled tightly around the papers in his hand. This was wrong. He never intended for Tillie to be hurt by his tactics. She deserved to find a man who could love her and make her proud of him. A man with whom she could spend the rest of her life. Not someone like him.

God must have intended for him to live a solitary life. Why else would He allow the scars? If he could survive the pain of being burned, then surely he could survive the pain of being alone.

But Tillie…ah, sweet Tillie.
Girl, don’t you know I’m doing this for you?
A raw ache twisted and seared his stomach at the thought of pushing her away. He’d carefully designed his words to make her just angry enough that she’d direct her affections elsewhere. Only knowing she would eventually find the man God intended for her enabled him to sever their friendship. A startled tremor rattled him. What he felt for Tillie wasn’t friendship, and he could no longer remain in her presence and pretend that was all he wanted.

His gaze fastened on to the tear sliding down her cheek and dripping off her chin. This wasn’t turning out the way he’d planned, and self-loathing filled him to think he’d made her cry. But if he relented now, the carefully laid groundwork would be destroyed.

“I’m sorry, Tillie, but it’s best this way.”

She remained motionless, as though her feet were nailed to the floor. The longer she stood there, the more difficult it was for him to draw breath. His arms ached to hold her close. He longed to apologize for causing her pain and whisper soothing words of comfort. But the words knotted together in his throat. What would it take to get her to leave? He stiffened his spine and sat at his desk, spreading papers in front of him and studying them with rapt attention. The words and figures blurred and ran together, but he kept his eyes fixed.
Please, God, just let her leave. I’m sorry I had to be mean to her, but she’ll be happier in the days to come.

Finally, a soft sigh reached his ears, but it hit like Cully’s hammer.

“I’m sorry, too, Everett. I wanted to make you see.… But I realize now I was trying to do God’s job for Him. He’s trying to tell you something, Everett, and it’s up to you whether or not you listen. I won’t stop praying for you.”

The sound he thought he’d wanted to hear, her footsteps exiting the office, echoed in his heart like a funeral dirge. It made little sense now to pray that what he’d done was right. It was done, and Tillie very likely would never be back.

He propped his elbows on the desk and lowered his head to his hands. “God, please wrap her in Your comfort.” He sat thus for a long time. When he finally raised his head and looked at the papers on the desk before him, he realized they were all upside down, a painfully familiar perspective.