Was there anything Hannie had ever seen in him that Luke hadn’t put there?
“What was the bad part?”
Hannie leaned her chin on her hand and groaned. “The boiler’s on the fritz again. The guy who came to look at it thinks it needs to be replaced, but getting a new one installed would cost at least five thousand dollars.”
He whistled.
“Tell me about it.” She sat up and tilted her head at him. “How about you? Did you have a good day?”
He caught Daisy’s eye and could’ve sworn she winked. He ignored her. “Uh, yes. It was good.” He stabbed at his food. How many times could he use the word good in one conversation?
“Well, good.” Hannie’s eyes twinkled a little as if mocking him. “What did you do?”
“I called Evi.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh?”
“She said she’s busy.”
Hannie stared at him as if she knew that wasn’t all their daughter had said. “That’s too bad. What about Noah?”
He shook his head and stared at his plate. “Maybe I’ll try him tomorrow.”
If he could work up the nerve. At least Noah wasn’t a vegetarian, so he couldn’t mess that up. A thought struck him. What if Evi talked to Noah before he did? Would she convince him to turn Gerrit down?
Hannie set down her fork and laid her hand over his. He started at her touch, the soft pressure of it somehow seeping through his leathery hide like a salve until he could feel it all the way to his bones.
“It’s going to take some time.” She gave a small squeeze and moved her hand away again. “The kids have a right to be angry.”
The gentleness of her voice touched his heart. He watched her hand reach for her glass, longing for it to touch him again. To heal him.
“Okay.”
He didn’t know what else to say.
She took a bite of the broccoli that had been steamed beyond recognition. “What else did you do today?”
He pushed the lemon pepper toward her plate. If she was going to eat the broccoli, she might as well season it. “Nothing, really. Checked the mail. Helped Rae with—um—something.”
She raised an eyebrow. “And who’s Rae?”
His palms began to sweat. Why had he brought that up? It was like his mouth was conspiring against him.
He shrugged. “A kid who lives on the other side of the trees. Down in that fancy Evergreen neighborhood. She, uh, is interested in our barn.”
Hannie looked reflective. “I thought I’d seen a young girl snooping around back there before.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I didn’t want you to freak out. She wasn’t causing any trouble.”
“I wouldn’t freak out!” He sat back, his outburst hanging in the air like an incriminating cloud. He mashed his lips together. Yep. Definitely a conspiracy.
Hannie gave him an amused look. “You’re right. My apologies.”
One corner of his mouth twitched. He chanced a glance at her.
She was smiling as she finished her meal and began clearing the table. “Anyway, now that we’ve cleared that up, what were you doing with Rae? Calculus homework?”
His head shot up in surprise. Was that a joke? She knew he despised math. Was she teasing him? Her grin confirmed his suspicions.
He smiled back, warmed by the memory of long conversations with Hannie in the silage truck when they would laugh and laugh. “I don’t think she’s old enough for that. We just went to the movies.”
Hannie’s grin faded. “The movies?”
His body stilled. Her voice had changed. Something was wrong. “Yeah, the mailbox movie.”
She dropped the dirty silverware in the sink. “But I thought we were going—”
“You said you didn’t want to go.”
His words were pinched. Desperate. She had said that, hadn’t she? He frantically tried to remember their conversation, tried to remember exactly what she’d said, but the only thing he was sure of was the gut instinct he’d struck out big-time.
Her eyes locked on his, disappointment as clear as a winter morning flashing inside them. “No I didn’t.”
The words were soft and low, almost a whisper, but they hit him like the business end of a pitchfork. He forced his mouth not to open, not to speak, sure he would only make it worse. This was the longest conversation they’d had in years, and he’d seen her. The Hannie he used to know. The one who used to love him.
But he’d messed it up.
He watched helplessly as she slowly, deliberately covered the leftover lasagna with aluminum foil, set the pan on the top shelf of the fridge, and walked away.
CHAPTER
FOURTEEN
The bell rang, and Rae sprang from her seat. If she hurried, she could beat the other students to Room F and help set up the snacks again. On Monday she’d managed to be the first student there, and Mark had appreciated her help getting ready. Especially since they’d lost two volunteers last week.
Someone pulled on her backpack as she dashed through the crowded hallway. “Whoa, slow down. Where’s the fire?”
She turned to find David walking behind her, a relaxed half smile on his face. Was it her imagination, or was he cuter today than yesterday?
She gave a small wave. “Hey. Just trying to beat the crowd.”
“Where are you going?”
“Across the street.” Maybe if she walked faster, he’d give up on her. “I’ve been volunteering at that Community Hope program.”
He picked up his pace to keep up with her. “I saw a poster for that on the bulletin board.”
She slowed down—a hair—and gave him a pointed look. “They need more volunteers. . . .”
He shrugged. “Sure, I could probably do it.”
She dodged a freshman and tried to hide her surprise. Bringing up the program was supposed to be a surefire way to end the conversation. Most boys she knew had no interest in taking on extra work, especially at a church. Of
