The Wedding Quilt Bride. Marta Perry

you forget a lot of things. It’s made you prideful.”

      He shouldn’t have said that, but he could be just as determined as she could. Rebecca might have been able to push him into a mud puddle once and not have him shove back, but she wasn’t going to push him around now.

      Rebecca’s face had tightened into a mask that bore little resemblance to the girl she’d been. “Prideful or not, this is my decision. And my house. Please put down your tools and stop. Now.”

      “And when Lige comes back ready to help me? How are you going to explain that to him?”

      “Lige is my son. I’ll tell him what he needs to hear.”

      Daniel stared at her for a long minute, trying to make sense of her attitude. He couldn’t.

      “If you reject my help, Rebecca, you are rejecting our friendship.”

      He knew he shouldn’t have said it the instant the words were out, but it was too late. Rebecca took a step away from him. She crossed her arms.

      “Please go, Daniel.”

      There was nothing for it but to pick up his tool bag and leave, berating himself the whole time for handling her so badly. And yet, what else could he have done?

      The trouble was that he kept thinking he knew her, and maybe he was wrong. Maybe he didn’t know Rebecca at all.

      * * *

      Rebecca didn’t look forward to telling Lige that the project was off and he wouldn’t be working with Daniel for now. She waited until they were walking back to the farmhouse, thinking it would be easier away from the place he connected with Daniel. It would hurt, but she assumed he’d take it as silently as he did everything else.

      But in this, she was wrong. To her astonishment, her quiet little son started to argue with her. Lige, who never spoke up for himself, was actually disagreeing.

      “But, Mammi, you can’t do that. Daniel wants to work on the shop with me. You can’t!” He tugged on her apron, as if that would make her see reason.

      She stared at him, trying to gather her wits. “I’m sorry, Lige. I know you’re disappointed, but that’s how it is right now. When I can afford to pay Daniel, he’ll come back. You’ll see.”

      “But I want to work with him now.” It was almost a wail. “Won’t he come back now if you ask him?”

      Rebecca bit her tongue to keep from saying something that would put the blame on Daniel. She couldn’t be that unjust to him, even if it were easier on her. “Daniel is willing, but it wouldn’t be fair. Carpentry is how he makes his living. He has to be free to accept jobs for people who can pay.”

      Lige’s lower lip came out in a decided pout. “He’d rather work for us. I know. We make him smile.”

      “Daniel is friendly. He smiles at everyone.”

      “Not like that. Please, Mammi. Please, please, please.”

      Her father came around the house in time to hear Lige’s words, and his face crinkled. “It sounds as if this boy really wants something. What is it, Lige? A cookie?”

      Lige shook his head. “Mammi says Daniel can’t work for us anymore because we don’t have money to pay him. But Daniel would, wouldn’t he? You tell her, Grossdaadi.”

      Her father’s gaze studied her face, and she longed to turn away but couldn’t. Daadi touched Lige’s cheek lightly. “I’ll tell you what. You go and help Grossmammi with the cookies she’s making, and I’ll talk to your mamm.”

      “Snickerdoodles?” Lige asked hopefully. At his grandfather’s nod, he darted off, leaving Rebecca to face what would probably be a lecture.

      “Let’s sit down on the steps.”

      She wanted to argue, but she couldn’t. Daadi led her to the porch steps and waited while she took a seat.

      “I know what you’re going to say, but I don’t want you to pay Daniel. I need to do this by myself. Don’t you see?”

      “No. I don’t.” Her father didn’t scold. Instead, he seemed disappointed. “Did John Mast not send the money he owes?”

      She shook her head. “He wrote and said he couldn’t right now. The point is that I can’t let Daniel keep working if I can’t pay him. It wouldn’t be right.”

      “What did Daniel say to that?”

      “He offered to keep on working.” She evaded his steady gaze.

      “How did you convince him to stop, then?”

      She’d never doubted her father’s wisdom. He could go straight to the heart of what his children weren’t saying to him. “I...I said something that hurt his feelings. But it wasn’t all my fault. He was the one who...”

      Rebecca let that trail off, because it was starting to sound like her explanations of the quarrels she’d had with her brothers when they were small.

      Daadi gave her a disappointed look. “He is your friend, Rebecca. I shouldn’t have to tell you what you must do when you’ve hurt a friend.”

      She wanted to argue, but she couldn’t think of a thing to say. Daniel shouldn’t have pushed her into that position. But she certain sure should have found a way of dealing with him that didn’t involve causing him pain.

      Sitting there debating with herself wasn’t getting her anywhere. She didn’t have to let Daniel continue to work for her, but she did have to ask his forgiveness for her anger. She pushed herself to her feet.

      “You will find Daniel in his workshop,” Daadi said calmly. “I saw him go in a few minutes ago.”

      Rebecca headed reluctantly toward the King place. She should have hired someone she didn’t know to do the work for her, she thought rebelliously. Then she wouldn’t have been put in this position.

      Daniel’s shop was a square-frame building situated at a little distance from the barns. Daad had told her that he’d built up quite a business for himself in the past couple of years, even doing some kitchen remodeling for a few Englisch families. Daniel was a hard worker who deserved success, and that wouldn’t come if he spent his time on work he wasn’t paid to do.

      The sound of a saw reached her even before she opened the shop door. A motorized saw, as it turned out. Daniel had apparently found it worthwhile to install a generator for his business, much as dairy farmers like Sam and Daniel’s brother had to do for their milking equipment.

      She stopped inside the door, trying to find the right words while she waited. Daniel must have seen the movement when she entered, but he finished what he was cutting before he stopped the saw and stood, pulling off the safety goggles he wore.

      “Rebecca. I didn’t think I’d see you over here.” His voice didn’t express anything—not anger, not apology, nothing.

      Unable to find the right words, she looked around the shop. “This is a fine setup you have here. Daad says that you’ve been doing a lot of remodeling jobs. It looks as if you could handle most anything with all this equipment.”

      “I don’t think you came here to admire my shop, Rebecca.”

      He wasn’t going to make it easier for her, in other words. Rebellion flared. He was the one who’d equated their friendship with letting him work without pay, after all.

      Unfortunately, she also knew full well that if she hadn’t been totally caught up in her problems, she could have handled it better, without the need for this breach between them.

      She sucked in a deep breath, knowing what she had to say. “I came to tell you I’m sorry. Getting that news was a blow, but I had no right to take it out on you. Please forgive me.”

      His eyes were very dark in the muted light of the shop, and she couldn’t tell what he was thinking.