Chapter 11

Somehow, over the last three weeks, Tabitha had been opening up to Seth. It happened little by little, a mishmash of a dozen things that he'd done to set her at ease. What surprised her the most was that she didn't even realize that she was trusting him more. Maybe it wasn't even possible to pinpoint exactly what had happened. All she could put her finger on was the number of small ways that their interactions had changed.

When he came over these days, Seth no longer had to knock quietly before taking a step back so he wouldn't be too close when she peeked through the peephole or carefully opened the door. He also didn't seem to spend the first thirty seconds in her company gauging her mood so he wouldn't scare her or make her worry if she didn't seem in a particularly strong frame of mind.

Now, Tabitha simply opened her door the moment she spied him on her driveway. It was both exhilarating and slightly jarring too. She was doing things she hadn't thought possible even a few months ago.

Seth seemed grateful for her progress. She was pretty sure he overthought his actions and words whenever he was around her. He seemed to be very conscious of the fact that she was older than him and used to be his teacher. She hadn't cared about that at all. He might be younger by a few years, but Seth surpassed her in many other ways. He was strong and dependable. She hoped she would one day be like that too.

She'd also started smiling at him more and chatting too. Some might even categorize their exchanges as real conversations. Oh, not that they ever talked about anything too private. She wasn't ready for that. But they did talk about things beyond the weather now. Beyond whatever Seth had brought to her house or whatever chore he was set to get done for her. Sometimes, when she was feeling pretty brave, she even initiated the conversation. Seth seemed to like it the most when she did that.

Whenever she brought up a new topic, he'd almost smile. She really liked those almost-smiles. Because of that, they'd started discussing all sorts of things. Favorite foods. Favorite seasons of the year. And, of course, her new dog. Tabitha loved talking about Chance. She knew she was being silly, going on about how adorable and smart he was, but she couldn't help herself.

Considering she'd spent most of the last five years as a recluse, Tabitha couldn't believe that she'd talked so much to anyone. Sometimes she even had a hard time conversing with Mary, and she was her sister. But there was something about Seth that called to Tabitha and made her want to be different. Whether it was his kindness, the way he did so much for her without asking for a thing in return, or because he was having to live a very different life than he'd once imagined, she didn't know. All she was sure about was that she almost felt comfortable around Seth Zimmerman. That was enough.

No—that was a milestone.

She knew the Lord was working through both of them. He was giving them proof that there was still hope to make their lives different. That whatever unintended path they were on didn't have to be an awful one. All they had to do was trust Him for their next steps.

Today when he visited, though, Seth looked preoccupied. He'd answered her questions about the weather and his health easily enough, but he wasn't exactly concentrating on his answers. Even Chance's exuberance when he arrived didn't remove the shadows from his eyes. After dutifully petting the dog for a few moments, Seth pulled back into himself. Everything about him seemed strained.

She started to worry that he'd come over only out of duty. "You know, you don't have to stay if you have other things you need to do," she said as she gestured to the two chairs in her living room. Though the temperature wasn't too low, there was a new chill in the air. The cold air seemed to settle into her bones if she sat outside for too long.

"I don't."

"Oh. Well, all right." Glad she'd just made a fresh pot of coffee, she carried over two cups. As she placed them on the table, she glanced his way again. Seth usually had a confident, cool air about him, but it was absent today. "I just wanted you to know that I was fine."

After taking a sip of the warm brew, he set the cup on her coffee table. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to be," he said in a sharp tone.

She drew back. "Of course. I'm sorry to press."

He winced. "I'm the one who's sorry, Tabitha. Even though I usually don't let things bother me, my parents have sure gotten under my skin."

She knew Wayne and Anna Zimmerman. She'd been their children's teacher, though the family belonged to a different church district than she'd attended.

Though she hadn't seen Wayne and Anna for some time, she did know they were good people. They also were private folks who believed in rules and tradition. Seth's actions—and his incarceration—had to have been devastating for them.

She was tempted to say something trite, something to show that she was sorry about whatever had happened with him and his parents, but nothing came to mind. Instead, she sipped her coffee.

Running a hand through his hair, he squinted at the horizon beyond the window. The sky was covered in clouds, and a faint sheen hung in the air, like frozen mist was stuck there and had nowhere to go. "I just wish things were different, you know?"

She knew. "Do you want to talk about it? And before you start telling me that you don't want to burden me with your problems, let me remind you that listening to a friend isn't a burden. It's a privilege."

His lips twitched. "That sounds like something a bishop would say."

"I guess. But maybe it sounds like the truth too?"

Against her will, she tensed. Then noticed that her insides were shaking a bit. Leon had done such a good job of making sure she didn't voice an opinion about anything, she still felt like she was about to feel his displeasure.

Seth's expression softened. "Listen to you, Tabitha. You've sure come a long way in a short amount of time. Now you aren't only talking to me, you're throwing out words of wisdom."

She supposed he was right. Doubt set in. "If I'm being pushy, then ignore me. I don't want to overstep."

"You aren't," Seth said quickly. "Forgive the teasing. I don't think it's possible for you to overstep, at least not as far as I'm concerned."

"All I want is for you to feel better."

"You are helping with that and more. You have a way of making all my worries fade away," he said.

Really? "How so?"

"I first started coming over here as a way to forget all my problems." Resting his palms behind his head, he kicked out a leg. "You know, I thought if I helped you for a couple of hours a week, I would find some peace inside myself."

Thinking back to all the things he'd done—the way he'd shoveled her entire driveway when they'd had an unexpected burst of October snow, dropped off fresh meat and groceries, weeded her garden in the heat, and chopped wood during the fall—Tabitha shook her head. "If you needed peace in your life, I think you could have gone a different route. You've done way too many of my chores to feel a sense of peace." Smiling at him, she added, "More likely, all you got was a backache and a lighter wallet."

"I was glad to give you a helping hand. I promise, I'm not lying. Helping you makes me feel good."

"I think that sense of peace works both ways. Helping you might make me feel good too. And since chopping wood at your house isn't an option, we'll have to settle for talking."

"Hmm."

"So, what's going on?" she asked.

Bending over toward Chance, he scratched behind the dog's ears. He shrugged. "I think my parents should be looking after my sister better."

"How old is Melonie now?"

"She's seventeen." He raised his eyebrows.

"So she isn't a child at all."

Seth frowned. "I didn't say that. I think she's close enough to being one, don't you?"

"Maybe you don't want to see her as almost an adult because she's your younger sister. Most Amish seventeen-year-olds are responsible." She shot him a meaningful glance. "They've got jobs and apprenticeships. Some women even become schoolteachers."

An awareness flared in his eyes before he tamped it down. "I know that."

Unable to stop herself, she continued. "Some women are married at seventeen, Seth. Others are being courted." When he scowled, she gentled her tone. "I know you don't want to hear it, but that's the way of our world."

"I don't have to like it. I think she's too young."

"I know."

He grunted. Almost impatiently. "Don't you wish you had waited to marry?"

"I wish I had done a lot of things differently with Leon, but I can't honestly say that things would have turned out better for me if I had been older when I married him. I really did feel like I could handle anything back then."

"That was a bad example. Sorry."

"Don't be sorry. It was a good question, and I didn't mind answering it. Now, how about I ask you a question. What's happened with Melonie that has you so spun up?"

He exhaled. "I just wish I was closer to her. I wish she felt like she could confide in me. But every time I ask her something too personal, she shuts me down." He groaned.

"I hate to say it, but she might not be shutting you out because she doesn't trust you. I think you might be just encountering a seventeen-year-old girl."

"Seventeen-year-old girl? You're acting like that's a thing."

"Since I was once one, I'd say it is. You see, they like their privacy. Melonie might not be leaving you in the dark because of your past, Seth. It might just have to do with the fact that you're older and her brother."

He looked thoughtful. "That makes sense."

"I hope so. If that's the case, it should ease your mind. It's not personal."

"What should I do, then?"

"Listen. Continue to ask questions but maybe not get so upset when she doesn't give you answers right away."

He sighed. "And that, Tab, is why I really should learn to keep my mouth shut around you. You're full of practical advice."

"Nothing wrong with that."

"How about if I offer you some?"

Uneasiness filled her. "About?"

"About the way you still haven't ventured out much past the farm. Remember how we've talked about you being around people more often?"

She remembered, but even the idea scared her. "You know I can't. Most people don't want anything to do with me."

"Your circumstances aren't like mine. I might not have been shunned, but I did some things that many find unforgivable."

"I did too."

"A lot of people don't blame you for divorcing Leon." He tempered his voice. "I think they'd help you if you'd let them. I know some of the people who were once your friends would want to be again. That would be a good thing."

Here was her chance. She could either half-heartedly promise to think about his words like she usually did or she could be more honest. "I'm still afraid."

"Of what?"

A new barrage of hurt feelings slammed into her heart. "You know." She could barely even say those two words.

Seth shook his head slowly. "Sorry, I don't. I don't know what happened to you. I mean, I know that husband of yours hurt you."

She flinched. She didn't want to wear her hurts on her sleeve, but he had to realize that saying Leon hurt her was like saying Seth had been in jail for a while. Both might be true, but neither descriptor did the actuality justice.

"Why are you acting like I said something wrong?"

"You didn't."

"Can't you be honest with me? You know I'm not going to judge you." Obviously frustrated, he ran a hand through his hair again. He'd taken off his coat and was wearing only a thick flannel shirt over a white undershirt. When he moved his arm, his flannel sleeve rode up, exposing part of his wrist. His left wrist, which—along with the rest of his arm—was covered in colorful tattoos.

She stared at the bright ink.

His lips pursed. "Do they bother you?"

"The tattoos? No. I was staring at them because they're so colorful."

Looking down at his arm, he said, "I reckon they are. The ones I got in prison were black. When I got out and decided to add more, I chose to add color. It's, uh, a good reminder of the fact that I'm free to do what I want now."

Free to do what I want. Wouldn't that be something?

"I wish I was brave enough to get a tattoo too."

He smirked. "Are you joking with me, Tab?"

"Kind of. I like the idea of being able to do what I want, though. It would make me brave."

"You're living on your own. You survived getting beaten bad enough to land in the hospital. You were brave enough to work with a lawyer and the cops and free yourself from that guy. If you can do all of that, you're braver than most folks."

"Thank you."

"So, what are you afraid of? If not an abusive ex-husband, what?"

"Part of it is that Leon made me afraid to leave the house."

"And the other part?"

She hesitated, then blurted, "I'm afraid of facing everyone."

"No one is going to hurt you, Tab."

"Maybe not with their hands."

"Most won't even try to hurt you with words. But you'll never know if you don't give people a chance to prove you wrong."

"Maybe I'm judging them some too," she whispered.

"So you blame everyone for ... what?"

"For pretending that my brokenness was none of their business. Everyone acted as if they couldn't see what was happening to me, but they did."

Awareness came to his eyes. "And no one helped."

"No one helped and I couldn't leave. I had nothing. Until I almost died."

"I'm sorry."

She laughed bitterly. "For what? You weren't around."

"I was at first."

"Yes, but you were also just a kid." When she saw a muscle in his jaw twitch in umbrage, she almost smiled. "I haven't forgotten that you're three years younger than me. Have you?"

"No. It doesn't matter now, though."

"I reckon not. Besides, friendship with people of all ages is a good thing."

He looked like he was about to say something but held his tongue.

Tabitha knew she shouldn't have sounded so real or so bitter. "I'm sorry," she said. Just as her phone rang.

She'd never been so happy to hear a telephone ring. "I better get that." She got up and rushed into the kitchen.

····

In the open doorway, Seth watched Tabitha pick up the cell phone from the table and hold it to her ear. He couldn't help but smile at her tentativeness. Clearly, she didn't talk on the phone very often. Maybe next to never.

"Hello?" she said, her voice carrying down the hall. "Yes. I'm Tabitha Yoder."

Realizing that he should give her more privacy, Seth backed up. But just as he was about to turn around, Tabitha froze, then with a stricken expression, pressed a hand to the wall. He changed course and strode forward.

No longer caring about her privacy, he rushed to her side. "Tab," he whispered.

Tabitha's eyes lifted to his. Her face was pale, and she had the phone in a death grip.

Seth had the urge to remove it from her hand and talk to whoever was on the other end himself. Then he'd tell her what she needed to know. He was eager to do anything to make her life easier. No, shield her as much as he could.

Shield her and maybe take her into his arms.

But of course that wouldn't be right. So he didn't touch her, though he remained where he was. He turned away slightly so not to stare at her. A small attempt to respect her privacy while still reminding her that she wasn't alone.

Tabitha didn't move away from him. Not an inch.

The call continued. Every minute or so she would whisper "okay." After the third or fourth utterance, her voice sounded thick with emotion.

Unable to stop himself, he turned back to her. Their eyes met, and Tabitha's expression was so filled with pain that he knew he had to touch her. He finally gave in to temptation and reached for the hand she had braced against the wall. She flinched but then curved her fingers around his.

While she continued to listen, looking more stricken with each passing minute, he pulled over one of her kitchen chairs and made her sit down. Then he brought over another, sat down, and took her hand again. Even though he would have rather been holding her in his arms, he was thankful she accepted him this much.

At last she exhaled, a ragged release of breath that sounded rattly and exhausted. Chance padded over and lay down near her feet.

"Jah. I mean, thank you, Mia," Tabitha said at long last. "Goodbye."

She seemed to be in shock. When Seth took the phone from her and pressed the icon to end the call, she didn't seem to notice.

"Tabitha?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you still need your phone?"

No answer. Almost as if she hadn't heard him.

"Tab, is there anyone you'd like to call right now? You know, anyone you'd like to have by your side?" He wasn't going to let himself believe he was the one she needed.

His questions seemed to finally wake her up. "Hmm? Oh, nee. There's no one."

Still concerned, Seth returned to the living room and came back with her coffee cup, then refilled it and placed it in her hands. "Here, Tab. Want a sip? It's hot."

"Danke." She dutifully sipped before handing it back to him.

After another minute passed, Seth knelt in front of her and took her hands. "Tabitha, who was on the phone? What happened?"

"That was Mia."

"Who is she?"

"My lawyer."

"What did she want?" A handful of reasons for her lawyer to be calling entered his mind. Not a one of them was good.

Tabitha stared down at their joined hands. "She ... she called to say that Leon had been picked up for aggravated assault near Bowling Green but was released because the victim was unreliable." She pursed her lips.

"What does this have to do with you?"

"Oh. They believe he could be in Crittenden County now. And, ah, even though I have a restraining order against him, no one believes that will do much good."

Seth was usually pretty good at reading between the lines, but he felt like he was missing something. Maybe a lot of somethings. "Do much good against what?"

"When he was arrested for beating me and killing our baby, Leon promised that I'd regret pressing charges," she explained. "When the divorce was finalized and I was awarded this house, he was very upset. He threatened me."

"How?"

"He said he was going to kill me." She swallowed hard. "Leon said the next time he saw me, he would beat me so bad that I'd never survive."

Seth felt as if the bottom had just dropped out of his life.