Free A Place of His Own by Kathleen Fuller Page B

mamm might be wrong in this case. Somehow she’d find out the truth on her own.
    No, she wasn’t completely on her own. She had God on her side, just as Josiah did. And while she didn’t think she would get him to open up about his past right away, she could do her best to remind him that whatever he had been through, he hadn’t been alone. Not then, not now. From the discomfort he had displayed praying over the meal, she had a feeling he had forgotten that.

Chapter Seven
    JOSIAH AWOKE TO THE SOUND OF TWO BOYS ARGUING outside. Although the night had been cool, he had slept with the window open to dispel the mustiness in his room. He could hear Thomas and Andrew’s voices clearly.
    â€œBut you got to help him yesterday,” Andrew said. “It’s my turn to work with Mr. Josiah.”
    â€œBut I don’t wanna go home,” Thomas countered.
    â€œYou don’t have to. I’m sure there’s other stuff you can do around here. Like help Amanda in the house.”
    â€œI wanna use a hammer again.”
    â€œIt’s my turn. I just tole you that.”
    Josiah rubbed a hand across his face. Apparently Amanda hadn’t listened to him when he said he didn’t need any help today. Throwing back the ratty quilt he had used as a covering, he got out of bed and went to the window. The boys were pushing each other now, and Josiah knew soon they would be rolling around on the ground, half fighting and half playing, as boys were wont to do.
    He heard a door slam, and a moment later Amanda stood at her brothers’ sides. He couldn’t hear her words, but the way she placed her hands on her slim hips expressed her displeasure. Today she wore a black apron over a dark green dress that reached her calves. He forgot about Andrew and Thomas as he watched her, mesmerized. After a few moments, he regained his senses. He clenched his fists and turned away.
    He didn’t want to deal with this today. Last evening, he’d gone to Paradise, slowly riding down the side roads until long past dark, not wanting to go back home. Even though he hadn’t lost his temper with Amanda, he had caused her pain, and he could hardly stand that. Gripping her wrist enough to make a mark served to solidify what he already knew—he couldn’t be trusted to keep himself in control.
    He pulled on his trousers, then picked up a blue shirt from his duffel bag and slid it over his shoulders. He hadn’t bothered to unpack everything, and he didn’t intend to. Having to pull everything out of a duffel bag every day served as a reminder that he wouldn’t be here any longer than necessary.
    It took him only a few minutes to get dressed. He scrubbed his hand over his face one more time. He hadn’t shaved in two days, and he couldn’t let his beard or mustache grow out any more. For a short time he had tried to live like the Englisch , but during that part of his life, he felt that he was turning his back on his mother somehow. Despite his inner struggles, he found a tiny measure of peace living Plain and following the Ordnung , even if he wasn’t sure about his relationship with God.
    He scrambled downstairs and went into the bathroom. Ten minutes later he emerged, clean shaven, but no more ready to face Amanda. How could he look her in the eye after he’d physically hurt her yesterday?
    â€œJosiah? Is that you?”
    Her lilting voice filtered from the kitchen to the other side of the modest house. Steeling himself, he headed toward her. He would put a stop to her coming over once and for all.
    But then he saw her standing in front of the stove, as if she had always belonged there, in his kitchen, in his house. Once he smelled the tantalizing aroma of bacon cooking, he lost his resolve.
    Turning, she told him good morning with a bright smile.
    The thought of seeing her beautiful face every morning meandered through his mind, making his breath catch. How long had it been