But healing from this heartbreak was going to be difficult—especially trying to hide it from her perceptive boys who’d follow their own testosterone-driven instincts and want to defend her.
So she took advantage of the brief time of solitude in the quiet, muffled air of the greenhouse, and she cried.
Chapter Eleven
“We told Violet we’d bring her along,” Ezekiel said, dropping his straw hat onto his head. “If she’s not next door anymore, what do we do?”
The day had been a long one for Delia, and her heart still felt heavy and clogged. She’d gotten through, though, mostly by focusing on the work in front of her, and she’d pushed herself past the point of exhaustion. She’d cleaned the greenhouse out, trimmed ornamental potted bushes, brushed down the horses and then started in on the kitchen. Everything smelled faintly of bleach now, and she still had a whole row of cupboards to empty and wash out...
Work was balm for the soul. Isn’t that what she’d been taught all her life? And while it didn’t heal a broken heart, it did help to distract her from her own pain while her kinner were watching.
“You could go by her grandparents’ new place,” Delia said. “You’d have to ask if it’s all right if she went with you to the wiener roast. If Beulah’s with you, her family shouldn’t mind.”
“Of course Beulah will be with us,” Ezekiel said, and a tender little smile touched his lips. “I always pick her up first.”
“We told Violet that we’d bring her along,” Thomas said. “So we’d better at least check.”
Funny—the boys who had been so irritated with a girl helping out around the farm were now treating her like a friend. That was a good thing. Violet needed to see that there was plenty to stay Amish for—including good friends. And if Delia and Elias’s little ploy had actually helped her to think a few things through, all the better.
“Did you want to come along, too, Mamm?” Moses asked.
“No, no,” Delia said, running her fingers through his rumpled hair. “It’s for the young people. You’ll have fun.”
“But you seem sad,” Aaron said. “What are you going to do, clean cupboards?”
“Maybe,” Delia said. “It’s good to get it done. It smells nice in here, doesn’t it? I feel better when things are clean. You boys go have fun, and I’ll have a snack waiting for you when you get back.”
“You’ll be here?” Moses asked.
“Of course I’ll be here. Where else would I be?”
With Elias—that was what they were all thinking. She’d told her boys it was all a ruse, but they didn’t seem completely convinced. Things had changed between Delia and Elias, and Delia was doing her best to adjust to that. Elias hadn’t been around for long, but she’d very quickly grown accustomed to his presence in her life. Too quickly. If she were giving her own boys advice, she’d tell them not to let their hearts go too easily—to wait, and be certain of the girl first. To not toy with something so precious as their own heartstrings. And yet, what had she done?
The boys headed out into the evening, and Delia sat down next to the window, watching the shadows grow longer as the sun sank in the west. She still had that row of cupboards to finish up, but somehow her drive to do it had evaporated now that she had her privacy. She’d cried a good deal the night before—but she’d been very careful to muffle any sound lest she worry the boys. The walls were thinner than she’d realized before, and the last thing she needed was for her overprotective brood to try to fix an adult-size problem with teenager solutions.
Somehow, she’d hoped that Elias would come by again, but he hadn’t. Of course he hadn’t. He knew where things stood as well as she did, and yet she did hope all the same.
“What is wrong with me?” Delia asked herself aloud, and she rose to her feet and headed back to the cupboards. She stepped up onto her step stool and started to empty the first top cupboard of its contents—large bowls and serving platters.
Delia was the one her friends came to for marriage advice. She was the one who was supposed to know how to handle relationships, and here she was with her heart in a knot as if she was a teenager herself. And she truly expected better from herself. She didn’t dare go find some older, wiser woman to give her advice, because she was afraid of looking like a fool.
She sprayed the water and bleach mixture into the cupboard and followed it with a damp rag, wiping out dust in a brown smudge on her cloth.
Gott, please help me to get over Elias, she prayed. I really didn’t mean to fall in love with him.
Outside, she heard the clop of hooves and the crunch of buggy wheels. Were the boys back? Did they forget something? Or was it Elias coming by to talk again?
Her heart gave a leap at the thought, and she backed down off her step stool and headed to the window. A buggy had stopped in front of the house, but it wasn’t her kinner or Elias, either. It was Joseph. He climbed down from the driver’s seat, and he had a basket over one arm, covered in a white cloth.
“Joseph?” she murmured.
Maybe her mamm needed her again. It looked like life was about to get busy again, and maybe that was an answer to prayer, too. Staying busy would keep her from brooding over Elias. Gott’s blessings often arrived dressed like hard work. Wasn’t that what people said?
She went to the door and opened it before Joseph even made it up the steps. She gave him what she hoped was a welcoming smile.
“Hello, Joseph,” she said. “Come in. Would you like some coffee or tea?”
“Danke, I would,” Joseph said. “Are you all right, Delia?”
“I’m—” She swallowed hard. “I think I will be.”
Joseph gave her a thoughtful look as he passed her to come inside, and he took off his hat, revealing some disheveled hair and a bald spot. He looked down at his hat and then up at her again.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“Yah. Of course. What can I do for you?”
“Well, I came to tell you about the doctor’s appointment,” he said. “Your mamm put up a bit of a fuss, but I reminded her that she’d promised you that she’d go, so she did. There were lots of tests done, and in the end, the doctor said that there’s hope.”
“There is?” Delia felt a genuine smile reach her face. “I’m so glad! What do you have to do?”
“It’ll be some trial and error with different medications, but there are a couple of options that work well with patients like your mamm,” he said. “And most times the medication helps an awful lot.”
“That’s wonderful news,” Delia said, and she led the way inside. “I’m so glad, Joseph. I’ve been worried sick about her. Should I put on some tea? Or do you want decaf coffee?”
“Decaf would be nice,” he replied, sitting down at the table.
Delia set about starting the coffee percolator, and when it was set on the stove to boil, she came back to the table.
