Chapter 5

5

Mondays were becoming more and more difficult to take. Sitting in the air-conditioned conference room that was a degree too low for comfort, Jay tried to act as if neither the company's newest line manager's words about safety and productivity nor the frigid temperature bothered him. Revealing his true feelings about either would only get more attention focused on him.

Which, with Sam Kropf, was never a good idea. The man might have been a handful of years older than Jay, but he was also difficult and far less mature. In Jay's opinion, at least.

Sam seemed to view everyone at the sawmill—with the exception of Mr. Burkholder—as competition for his job. He had no problem using his new promotion and managerial duties to his benefit. He also seemed to enjoy making the rest of the workers look bad. Even worse, he used his position to make other people miserable.

Just last week, he'd given Andrew three late-night shifts in a row and then followed them up with a fourth shift early in the morning. Even though that wasn't supposed to be allowed.

When poor Andrew had shown up on the fourth day slug gish and bitter, Sam had used the guy, in a leadership meeting, as an example of some of the staff not working hard. Of course, no one in the room believed Sam. Most everyone knew about Andrew's schedule too.

Except, perhaps, Mr. Burkholder.

Jay allowed his mind to drift as Sam continued to read from the sheet of paper that they all had in front of them. Since it was all about safety protocols that had been put into place years ago, he had no need to pay too much attention.

Instead, he thought about Bethanne and their conversation two days ago. No, it hadn't gone all that well. But at least they'd talked. That was a step in the right direction. Their brief exchange had given him the strength he'd needed to still have hope for a future with Bethy. Despite everything, he wanted the honor of calling her his wife one day.

Sure, it was a pipe dream. As far as he knew, Bethanne hadn't allowed any man to get near her in the last seven years. She barely spoke to men, let alone permitted one to come courting.

But there was always a first time, right?

"What do you think, Jay?" Sam asked loudly.

Feeling the man's almost triumphant gaze settle on him, Jay looked at him. "I'm sorry, could you repeat the question?"

Sam folded his arms over his chest like Jay's inattention was costing the company thousands of dollars. "Why do you need it repeated? Were you not paying attention?"

This was exactly why Sam was not a good manager. He took pride in belittling other people in order to make himself feel more important.

For his part, Jay was proud that he didn't tell Sam that he thought he was boring and long-winded. "I need to have your question repeated because I do."

There was a collective inhale from the table. Sam looked like he was fighting with himself. After a few strained seconds—which felt like minutes—he nodded. "I asked what you thought about the new regulations from the state regarding the machinery."

"I think they make sense and I'll do my best to follow them."

"Your best?" He raised his eyebrows.

"Everyone's best is good enough, ain't so?" Virgil asked. "After all, if someone needs help, all they have to do is ask and help will be given. That's how we've always worked." Virgil was the eldest in the room, and everyone respected him. Even Mr. Burkholder paid attention to what he had to say.

"Yes, of course," Sam said quickly. Color brightened his cheeks as he visibly fought to gain an aura of authority again. "Everyone, please follow the new regulations as best you can."

The rest of the meeting was smooth sailing. Jay did his best to pay attention and listen, which meant pushing his thoughts and worries about Bethanne to one side.

As they walked out, Virgil clapped him on the shoulder. "You all right, then?"

"Jah. Thank you for speaking up for me."

"I didn't mind. But you shouldn't let Sam get to ya. It only makes things worse." He winked. "He'll needle you just like anyone else."

"I know. And as much as it pains me to admit it, Sam was right to call me out. I wasn't paying as close attention as I should have been."

Virgil's expression filled with a new respect. That was the kind of man he was. He admired a person who wasn't afraid to be vulnerable or admit his faults. "Everything all right with your family?"

"Jah. Everyone's gut. I ... well, I was thinking about something personal."

Understanding filled his expression. "Maybe it has to do with a certain brown-eyed girl?"

"Is it that noticeable?" he asked as they stopped.

"Only to someone who's been around for a spell." He rocked back on his heels. "Care to listen to some advice?"

"From you? Always."

"I know you're a patient man, and that's to be commended. But sometimes a person needs a nudge in the right direction."

A little bit of his hope faded. Virgil's judgment was usually spot-on, but in this case, Jay knew his advice was misguided. The last thing Bethanne needed was to be pushed or prodded into doing something she wasn't ready for. Especially if that push was toward another relationship.

"I hear ya," he said. It wasn't a fib, but it also didn't reveal what he was thinking.

"I'm serious, boy. Sometimes one's desire to be safe interferes with one's desire to be happy. If I've learned anything over the years, it's that feeling safe can also bring a sense of false comfort."

"And maybe even false happiness," Jay whispered.

Looking glad that Jay was at last on the same page, Virgil said, "When my Rachel was eight, she had to get her tonsils out. The doctor said there was no choice in the matter, she had been plagued by sore throats and infections too often. But everyone told Emma and me that her recovery would be hard."

Continuing the story, he waved a hand in the air. "As you probably know, healing from that operation can be painful. Because of that, we were prepared." Chuckling softly, he added, "Emma had more bottles of pain relievers and ice packs than all six of us in the house would ever need!"

"I bet," Jay said with a smile.

"Now listen to this, son. To our surprise, three days after surgery, that little girl was eating ice cream and was all smiles. She hardly complained at all. When Emma asked Rachel how it was possible that she wasn't in terrible pain, my eight-year-old said that her throat had hurt so constantly for so long she had thought everyone's throat felt like that. Her post-surgery pain wasn't any worse than what she was used to."

"So one can learn to accept hurt as something normal."

"Jah. Your girl might have forgotten what it's like to go through life without a heavy heart. But that can change. Love can open doors, jah?"

"Jah," he whispered back. "Danke, Virgil. That was gut advice."

"You're welcome. And keep your chin up here. Sam will settle in. He has to sooner or later."

"I hope so." Somehow, Jay had a feeling that it might be easier to earn Bethanne's love than Sam's respect.

He sure knew which one he was more desperate to have.