Free A Man of His Word by Kathleen Fuller Page B

opportunities she might be missing.
    For the first time she regretted not being a little less ambitious and a little more pacifying. Then she might have gained an insight or two on how men ticked. Or maybe not. Maybe this had nothing to do with her, and everything to do with Christian.
    Was he having second thoughts about their relationship? The good Lord knew she had more than a few.
    Rising from her chair, she straightened up a small pile of Family Life magazines on the end table and began fluffing the already full sofa pillows. She should have a talk with Christian. A serious talk, not the superficial conversations they normally had. She should find out what his intentions truly were. When she agreed to date him, she had done so with an open mind and—she hoped—an open heart. But every time they were together, it seemed they treated each other more as friends than romantic interests. Her mother had probably picked up on that as well.
    “Rachel?”
    Rachel turned around to see her mother poke her head in the doorway of the parlor. “ Ya ?”
    “When you’re finished in here, I need you to clean the upstairs bedrooms.”
    “Aaron’s too?”
    “ Ya . You do such a wonderful job, even better than I do.” Sarah smiled. “Your husband will be very lucky indeed to have such a good housekeeper.”
    Rachel managed a half smile and wondered if her mother had lost her mind. Mami was clearly obsessed with Rachel’s future marriage—when or if it ever happened.
    But her mother’s compliment about her cleaning skills warmed her; Rachel abhorred untidiness and had always kept her room in order. Still, she didn’t relish straightening up Aaron’s room. She wondered if he was even out of bed, despite it being midmorning. Since his return from jail, her parents had been dealing with him as if he were made of thin glass. They said it was because he was still in drug recovery, but Rachel was keenly aware of the difference between the way they treated her and her older brothers, though her brothers now were married and out of the house.
    The bulk of the chores often fell to her, even more so after Aaron had fallen in with a bad crowd during his rumspringa . He had been belligerent, lazy, and argumentative, especially with their parents, something she had never done. While she had experimented with a few forbidden things during her own rumspringa , such as borrowing one of those little music players and trying on one of her Yankee friend’s makeup, she didn’t have the rebellious streak her brother possessed. Since his return, he had stayed holed up in his room for the most part, and she hadn’t talked to him much. If anyone asked her to describe her brother, she doubted she could do it, other than give just a physical description. She didn’t know him anymore.
    Yet she still had to clean his room.
    As she passed by the front door on the way to the stairs, she heard someone knocking. Glad for the reprieve, however slight, she turned around and answered it, surprised to see Gabriel Miller standing at the front door.
    “Good morning, Rachel.”
    “Good morning, Gabe. What can I do for you?”
    “Is Aaron around?”
    “Why don’t you come in?” she offered, remembering her mother’s words about hospitality. “I haven’t seen him this morning, but I’ll check upstairs.”
    “ Danki .”
    “Would you like to sit down in the parlor? I could bring you a cup of coffee. We have some sticky buns too.”
    “No, I’m fine. But thank you. I’ll just wait here.”
    Rachel dashed up the stairs and stopped in front of her brother’s room. The door was shut, so she knocked. Even though she didn’t strike the door very hard, it opened in response. She expected to see him asleep in bed, but his bed was already made, their grandmother’s black-and-white quilt neatly pulled over it. She stepped inside and saw him sitting in a chair beside the only window, staring out into the barren, snow-covered field behind the house. Unsure