Free A Man of His Word by Kathleen Fuller

cold air.”
    Rachel dutifully closed the door. She started to head to the kitchen when Sarah stopped her. “Why don’t you and Tobias get settled in the living room? I’ll bring out the buns and coffee. How do you take yours, Tobias?”
    “Black,” he said, grinning even wider as he saw Rachel’s frown. “If you please.”
    “Rachel?”
    “None for me,” she mumbled, then scooted past Tobias into the front room, which served as the Detweilers’ visiting area. She plopped down on the most comfortable looking chair and crossed her arms, her mouth in full pout mode. He followed her into the room and could almost feel the daggers shooting from her eyes. Her resentment cast a pall over the neat, plainly furnished room.
    Tobias caught the warning glance Sarah gave her daughter before heading to the kitchen at the back of the house. He lowered himself in the chair directly across from her, his eyes never leaving hers.
    “Don’t you have work to do?” she asked, tilting her head and looking at him dead on, as if she could wish him away if she glared at him hard enough.
    “Don’t you? Thought you’d be at the restaurant.”
    “I’m off today. You still haven’t answered my question.”
    “I just can’t resist my mother’s sticky buns.” He smirked.
    “Then you should go home and eat them there.” She met his gaze, unflinching.
    “But I wouldn’t want to disappoint your mother.”
    “I’ll explain why you left.”
    “Then you’ll look like a fool, because I’m not leaving.” He put his hands behind his head and leaned back in the chair, reveling in the fury he saw building inside her. Good Lord, she was fun to rile up. The spark that leapt to her eyes affected him, like touching a lit match to a stick of dynamite.
    Rachel suddenly jumped from her seat. “You are the most infuriating person I have ever met.”
    “Wow. That’s a big word,” he said drolly. “You been reading the dictionary in your spare time?”
    “Ooh,” she said, going to him. She poked him in the chest. “You are seltsam , Tobias Byler!”
    He grasped her hand midpoke, not even caring that she had called him weird. Instead of letting go of it, he held on. His own hands were rough, scarred, and gouged from working with wood since he was a child. Her hands, in contrast, were small and soft, with slender fingers that he had a sudden urge to intertwine with his own. Their gazes instantly met, and for the life of him he couldn’t move away from her, even if he wanted to. Which he didn’t.
    “Nothing better on a cold winter morning than coffee and sticky buns,” Sarah’s voice sounded in the hallway, as if she were warning them of her approach.
    They both jumped apart, Rachel snatching her hand out of his grip and flinging herself into the chair. Tobias looked at Sarah as she entered the room and placed the tray on the coffee table. While she settled herself on the sofa, he gave Rachel a quick glance, and was surprised to see the blush blooming on her cheeks, making her look even prettier than before.
    Sarah looked up and directed her attention to Rachel, a frown forming on her lips. “Are you feeling all right, daughter? You look flushed.”
    Her mother’s comment seemed to only intensify the reddening of Rachel’s face. “I’m fine.”
    Suddenly, his pleasure at putting her on edge disappeared, replaced by a tiny bit of shame, and a large dose of confusion. Since when did he have the urge to hold her hand, especially since everyone knew she and Christian were courting?
    The parlor, which had been so welcoming and comfortable minutes before, now seemed stuffy and claustrophobic. He scrambled up from his chair, assailed by an uncontrollable urge to get out of there. When he started to speak, the words came out in a foggy croak, so he cleared his throat and tried again. “I gotta go, Frau Detweiler.”
    Surprise crossed Sarah’s features, her blue eyes so similar to Rachel’s. “So soon? You haven’t even had your