Page 100 of The Hidden One

I motion toward the cabinets he’d been working on. “I like the two-tone.”

“Datt didn’t think the merlot would go with the maple,” the boy tells me, “but Effie put both colors on a piece of scrap wood and Datt liked it just fine.”

“So we decided to do the whole dining room set with those two colors.”

At the sound of her voice, I glance over to see Effie approach. She’s left the broom and dustpan behind and runs her fingertips over one of the naked cabinet doors.

“You have a good eye for color,” I tell her.

“Datt says I can pick out the hardware, too,” she tells me.

“Katie.”

I glance over my shoulder to see Jonas and Reuben approach. It’s only been a couple of days since I saw the boy, but he looks taller. I’m struck all over again by how much he resembles his father at that age.

“You’re going home,” says Jonas.

“I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye.” I discern the excessive cheer in my voice. It’s silly, but I’m having a difficult time meeting his gaze, so I focus on the children, taking in their faces, wanting to remember them just like this.

“Datt, what about the…” Junior drops his voice to a whisper. “You know.”

I look at the boy and raise my brows. “That sounds suspiciously like there might be a surprise in store for someone.”

“You!” cries Effie, and slaps her hand over her mouth, giggling.

Finally, I look at Jonas. Feel the weight of his stare. The rise of emotion in my chest. Something inside me shifts and free-falls, and I know this is one of those moments. One that’s fleeting, but will forever be remembered.

I smile. “They get their subtlety from their datt.”

Jonas rolls his eyes. “Reuben, go get them.”

I watch the young man walk to a beat-up workbench and pick up three large wooden candleholders. He handles them with reverence as he brings them to us and hands one to me.

“For you,” he says. “From all of us.”

“I turned them.” Effie looks as if she’s holding her breath. “My first.”

“I s-stained them,” Junior tells me.

“They’re beautiful.” I turn the candleholder over, admiring the workmanship. “I love them.”

“We wanted to thank you,” Jonas says. “For everything you did for us while you were here.”

“It was Mamm’s idea,” Effie points out.

“I’ll cherish them always,” I say, hoping no one notices the frog in my throat or that I’m blinking a little too quickly.

I look at Jonas, hating it that I don’t quite trust my voice to speak. He stares back at me and in that moment we’re teenagers again. The world has no weight, our dreams know no bounds, and our hearts are free.

I extend my hand to him for a shake. “Thank you.”

He looks down at my hand as if he’s not sure he should take it. But he does and his touch is electric. I feel calluses against my palm. The strength of his grip. The warmth of his skin against mine. A thousand memories passing between us.

“Katie!”

I glance toward the door to see Dorothy rush through, a brown paper bag in her hand. “I thought I heard the saws go quiet.” She grins at her husband, then crosses to me and passes me the bag. “I made you some date-nut bread for the trip.”

The aromas of cinnamon and maple waft from the bag as I take it. “You can bet I’ll put it to good use.”