Chapter 12

12

B ethanne knew there was no way around it. She owed Jay an apology. There was no reason on earth that she should be blaming him for anything that Peter had done. Especially not after so many years. In a way, he was a victim too. Peter hadn't been the person Jay had assumed he was.

Bethanne sighed. What was wrong with her? She'd said she forgave him. But then she'd hurt Jay's feelings on purpose. She would've given any other man who'd come calling thirty minutes of her time and her kindness. At the very least, she should've thanked him for stopping by. Instead, she'd practically run Jay out of the house.

She was ashamed of herself.

After debating how to best approach him, she decided to combine her visit to him with a stop at the publishing house. She had some manuscript reviews to turn in, and Burke Lumber was just a couple of blocks away. Riding there on her bicycle would be no problem. She could get both important errands done in no time.

Decision made, she readied herself, gathered her ma terials, and went downstairs to let her mother know she was leaving.

Mamm was sitting at the dining room table writing a letter. Like always, she had a cup of hot tea, a plate full of shortbread, and her box of stationery in front of her. Her mother was a champion letter writer. Bethanne didn't know how many letters she wrote a month, but it was a lot.

"Hi, Bethy," she said when Bethanne appeared at the bottom of the stairs. "Are you going to do some work in here?" She set down her pen and began to clear a spot on the table.

"Nee, I've already reviewed half of the manuscripts they sent. I'm going to go take these to the office."

"Why?"

"It's a pretty day. I thought I'd ride my bike."

"You don't want to hitch up the buggy?"

"Nee." She, like a lot of other people her age in the Amish community, had begun riding her bicycle more and more. Some had even purchased electric bikes. They were expensive but cheaper than the care and feeding of a good horse. Plus, it was so convenient not to have to worry about a horse getting spooked or keeping it comfortable on the hot days of summer and cold days of winter. She didn't have an electric bicycle, but hers was red, had a lovely basket on the front, and made her happy. Plus, it was always good exercise. "I'll be home in a couple of hours."

Frowning, her mother stood. "A couple of hours? Surely they don't need you to stay there all afternoon?"

"They don't. I have somewhere else to go." Knowing that she was going to have to reveal the truth sooner or later, she added, "I'm going to stop by Burke Lumber and talk to Jay."

Worry and confusion filled her gaze. "Why?"

"I owe him an apology."

She sat back down. "For what, child?"

"I was rude to him. I feel terrible and I want to do the right thing."

Her eyebrows lifted. "I see. Well, ah, going into a place like Burke Lumber and asking to speak to Jay is something new for you."

That was an understatement. "I know. But I want to do it."

"I'm glad. That's a blessing."

Bethanne nodded. She was proud of how far she'd come, though until that moment, she hadn't taken the time to reflect on just how far that was.

She'd only been thinking about what to say to Jay. Was she developing different feelings for him, or was she just feeling guilty? She hated that her mind was in such a muddle where he was concerned. It was almost impossible for her to think about Jay, Peter, Seth, or her fears individually. Each felt like part of a grid that created the worst experience in her life. It didn't make sense and it wasn't logical.

"Do you want to talk about it before you leave? I have time."

"Nee, Mamm."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I just have a couple of things to discuss with Jay." And those things were private. Not for her mother's ears. Not this time.

"I understand. You have your cell phone?"

"I do." Her parents had received permission from the bishop for Bethanne to carry a cell phone with her at all times. Now if there was an emergency—or if her fears got the best of her—she'd be able to call the police for help.

"I'll listen for the kitchen phone. You know, just in case something goes wrong."

"Nothing's going to go wrong."

Standing up again, her mother folded her arms across her chest. "You know, maybe you should call after you get to the publishing house. Just to let me know you're safe."

"I will not." When her mother inhaled, obviously eager to argue her point, Bethanne walked to the back hallway and loaded her books into a canvas tote bag.

Mamm followed. "Child—"

Frustrated with the entire situation, Bethanne turned on her. "Nee, Mamm. I am not a child. I'm a grown woman and it's time I acted like one around here too."

"You might be a grown woman, but you aren't like everyone else."

For too long she'd believed that to be true. But getting to know Seth and Tabitha Zimmerman over the course of the last year had given her a new perspective. They'd learned a lot about forgiveness and taught her about that too—including the fact that she needed to forgive herself.

Now she was realizing that she needed determination to keep one night's tragedy from taking center stage in her mind. That wasn't healthy, and she knew it. Just because something was unforgotten didn't mean it had to be given great importance.

"That's where you're wrong, Mamm," she said at last. "I am like everyone else. Every woman, by the time she reaches her midtwenties, has experienced a hardship of one kind or another. I'm no different than anyone else."

Pain entered her mother's eyes. "But—"

"I need to go. Expect me back by four o'clock."

"It's only eleven."

"I know." Carrying her tote bag with her purse tucked neatly inside, she strode to the barn and got out her bicycle. A few minutes later she was pedaling down the road, feeling warm and free and almost hopeful.

Two hours later, Bethanne was feeling nervous and a bit embarrassed. Her visit to the publishing house had gone very well. Edna, the personal assistant to the editor, was there, and she was so happy to have received so many reviews early that she'd asked Bethanne to lunch.

While they were eating, Edna had mentioned that her roommate had just left and she was looking for a new one. Bethanne couldn't help but ask about the room. Next thing she knew, they were walking through Edna's sparkling-clean home. Bethanne wasn't sure if she actually wanted to live with Edna, but the thought of moving on with her life and getting out from underneath the sheltered existence she'd begun to take for granted was tempting.

Now, after she parked her bicycle in the bike rack in front of Burke's, her nerves returned. She should've used some common sense and realized that Jay was at work. She couldn't just stop by and expect him to be able to take time off to see her.

"Is everything okay, miss?" an older man dressed in slacks and a red shirt emblazoned with "Burke Lumber" on the chest asked.

"Yes. I just realized that I probably made a mistake."

He frowned. "What's wrong? Are you lost?"

"Nee, I ... well, you see, I'm friends with Jay Byler and decided to stop by. But it just occurred to me that he's likely busy and not able to have visitors. I should've considered that his boss wouldn't be too happy about a friend stopping by on the spur of the moment."

When the man smiled, wrinkles appeared around his eyes. "He likely is hard at work, but I don't think his boss will mind. Everyone deserves a break—especially if it's for a friend. Come on in. I'll find him for ya."

"Are you sure I won't get him in trouble?"

"I'm positive." He winked. "I'm the boss, you see."

"You're Mr. Burkholder?" Boy, she'd just put her foot in her mouth!

"Guilty," he said with a laugh as he opened the glass door and motioned her inside.

Deciding to see the humor in it too, she grinned at him.

And then gasped.

They were in a showroom with beautiful wood tables, doors, floor samples, and other woodwork surrounding them, including a variety of rocking chairs. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, her sense of smell took in the aroma. A luscious combination of pine, hardwood, and lemon furniture oil filled the room.

"It smells so good in here."

Mr. Burkholder laughed. "I've heard a lot of things said about this place, but its smell isn't usually the first thing people mention."

"I bet not. Sorry."

"Don't apologize." He inhaled. "Honestly, I think it smells pretty fabulous myself."

"Do you need any help, Walker?" a man in his midthirties asked.

"I do. I happened to meet this nice young lady on the way inside and we got to talking. Could you please find Jay Byler and send him to the front?"

"Sure thing."

"He'll likely be here in about ten minutes, my dear. If I'm not mistaken, Jay is working at the far back of the campus today."

"Thank you for getting him. I don't mind waiting, and I promise I won't take too long."

Mr. Burkholder shrugged. "Jay's a good employee. Always a hard worker. And all the employees know what they need to do. As long as they get it done, I don't monitor their every move."

"Yes, sir."

"What's your name, dear?"

"Bethanne Hostetler."

He held out his hand. "Bethanne, it is a pleasure to meet you."

"You too. Thank you again for helping me find Jay."

"Any time." He smiled before walking toward another employee who had a clipboard in her hands.

Now that Bethanne was alone, she took another look around the showroom. Spying a beautiful desk in the corner, she walked over to inspect it more closely. She soon realized there was a sliding compartment in the back. It was a perfect place for receipts or pens and pencils. Or even special trinkets and such.

Deciding that running her hand over the wood wouldn't harm it, she did—and practically sighed in appreciation. It was a gorgeous piece of furniture. She'd love to write her reviews on something so fine.

"I see you found the writing desk."

She turned to see Jay approaching. He, too, wore a Burke Lumber polo shirt, but his was untucked. He also had on Amish-tailored brown pants, a ball cap, and Red Wing boots. He looked perfect.

His blue eyes stared at her intently. "What are you doing here? Do you need a desk?"

"Oh, nee. This desk is a beautiful thing, but I needed to speak to you. I couldn't wait another day."

That obviously took him by surprise. Honestly, the shock on his face probably matched what she was feeling. She decided to go with it.

"I, um, happened to see Mr. Burkholder on my way inside. He said it was okay if I bothered you for a couple of minutes."

"You talked to my boss about talking to me?"

He sounded incredulous. Or, perhaps, surprised? Either way, his reaction made her feel even more nervous. "I didn't seek him out or anything, Jay," she said in a rush. "Mr. Burkholder was walking in the parking lot when I was parking my bike. He asked me if I was okay." Figuring she had nothing to lose, she added, "I told him I was hoping to talk to you."

"Wow, Bethanne."

"I know. Please don't be mad."

As his posture visibly relaxed, a new warmth entered his expression. "I'm not mad," he said in a soft tone. "Now, what did you want to tell me?"

Bethanne clenched her fists and said a prayer for strength. She had a feeling their upcoming conversation was about to change her life.