The Amish Midwife's Courtship. Cheryl Williford

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СКАЧАТЬ in between a fancy pizzeria and a Laundromat desperately in need of some paint. Isaac got out on his good leg, grabbed for his crutches as he wobbled like a toddler, fighting for balance.

      “Here. Let me help.” Molly shoved his left crutch farther under his arm, handed him his blown-off hat and walked across the minuscule patch of paved driveway toward the shop’s wooden back door.

      Determined to be independent, Isaac took a step. Pain shot up his leg. He stifled a moan and kept putting one foot in front of the other, leaning heavily on his crutches for support. The doctors said the pain would soon go away. The broken leg held together with nuts and bolts would finish healing. But he would always have a limp.

      A split second in time had taken Thomas’s life and turned the past two months into the most miserable period in his life. He’d expected more of himself, of the surgery that was supposed to put him back on his feet. He was lucky to be alive. Painful memories pushed their way in again. The sound of an ambulance screamed in his head. He pushed the sound away and took in a deep, shuttering breath.

      “The door’s locked. Do you have the key?” Molly asked, rattling the handle. She glanced his way, but seemed to avoid looking directly at him.

      Isaac nodded. “The Realtor said it should be under this.” He carefully shoved away a pail of murky motor oil with his good foot. He bent to grab the silvery key, swayed and then felt surprisingly strong arms go round his waist to steady him.

      Molly stood against him, her breath tickling his ear for long seconds. She made sure he was stable and then gradually released his body. Without a word she stepped away, pulled back her skirt and grabbed for the key covered in muck.

      “You do the honors. This is your new business.” Molly handed him the key and then gave him room to maneuver closer to the door.

      This business purchase had been on impulse, something he probably should have thought more about. He normally would have, but he’d been desperate for a reason to get up every morning. A reason to keep living.

      His hand shook as he pushed open the door. He felt around for a light switch, found it, then flicked it on. A bare bulb lit the dark, cavernous bike shop with harsh light. Broken and bent bike parts, torn golf-cart seats and rusting tools lay strewed across a filthy concrete floor. Total chaos. He faltered at the door. Another fine mess he’d got himself into.

      “Was isht?” Molly glanced around him and then said, “Oh!”

      “Ya, oh.” Isaac maneuvered around scattered bike wheels and seats, carefully picking his way through the rubble that was Pinecraft Bike Rental and Repair. “This is what I get for buying sight unseen. What a zot I am.”

      Molly walked around him, surveying the clutter. She looked Isaac’s way, her expressive brown eyes wide open.

      He knew pity when he saw it. His stomach lurched. He didn’t want or deserve her pity. He’d earned everything bad that happened to him. Let Gott’s retribution rain down on him.

      “You’re not a fool, Isaac. We all act impulsively sometimes. We’ll get this place fixed up in no time. You’ll see.” She grinned, her face flushed pink.

      “We?” he asked, unable to resist the urge to tease her, to take his mind off his misery.

      Molly turned her back to him and moved away. “Ya, we. The church. Pinecraft. This community. We always pull together. You are part of us now. You’ll see. Gott expects us to help each other.” Molly went into the small office with a half wall that looked ready to fall with the least provocation.

      He watched a blush creep down Molly’s neck. She was young and beautiful in her own quiet way, not that he let her good looks affect him. She had no business being nice to him. She didn’t know him, know who he was, what he’d done. She’d soon lose interest when she found out the truth about his past.

      “I’m good with numbers,” she offered. “If you need help with the books...” She turned, a ledger in hand, her gaze steady. “I’m available.”

      In the past Isaac would have grinned from ear to ear if a young woman had advised she was available, but he was hearing what he wanted to hear in her words. Not what she’d really meant. There was no way someone like Molly would show interest in a man like him. “Danke. Let’s see if I get this business going before we worry about receipts and ledgers.”

      “I need to tell you something,” Molly murmured, seeking his gaze, her look sincere.

      “Ya?”

      “Danke for not telling my mamm about how you got the bump on your head.”

      “Ya, well. I told her it happened when I fell.” He picked up a box of rubber bands and set them on a small desk in the corner of the dusty room. Brooding thoughts assailed him. He pulled off his hat and pushed the painful memories away.

      “You shouldn’t have lied for me.” Her brow arched. “There was no need. Gott will be—”

      “Disappointed in me?” he interrupted, finishing her sentence. “Too late, Molly. He’s already more disappointed than you can imagine.”

      “We have only to ask and Gott will forgive us,” Molly said, holding his gaze.

      He turned away, pretending to be busy with clearing the desk of trash. He wanted Gott’s forgiveness more than he wanted air to breathe, but did he have the right to expect forgiveness after what he’d done?

      “Does it hurt?”

      “What?” He turned back toward her.

      “The bump.”

      “Nee.” He flipped through a pile of papers on the desk, forcing his gaze down. The bump did hurt, but he wasn’t going to tell her. Some things were best left unsaid.

      “The swelling is going down some.”

      He grinned. “I had a good nurse.”

      Molly laughed out loud, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “I usually try to keep my tenants as healthy as I can.”

      “You mean when you’re not smacking them with a broom handle.”

      She was a tiny woman, not much taller than his little sister back in Missouri. He didn’t understand why he enjoyed watching Molly bristle so much, but the frown now puckering her forehead made him grin.

      “Ya, well. You know I didn’t mean to hurt you, Isaac Graber,” she muttered, jerking on her kapp ribbons with an air of indignation and scooted out of the little office space. When he checked on her again, she was busy wiping down shelves and stacking old parts manuals the previous owner had left behind.

      Isaac chastised himself as he flopped into the office chair, the pain in his leg telling him he’d have to slow down or regret it that night. “I’m sorry for teasing you, Molly. I know you didn’t mean to hurt me. My leg hurts, and the pain makes me grumpy.”

      She walked over to where he was sitting, a dust rag hanging from her fingertips, her brows arched. She looked at the knee he was rubbing. “How did you injure it?”

      He had discussed the crash with his daed, bruder, the bishop and elders of the church, but he wasn’t about to tell СКАЧАТЬ