Building Trust Page 3

  Charity nodded, her expression turning serious. “He’s been on the back porch sitting in the old swing since he got home. I don’t know what’s going on with him.”

  “None of us do.” She looked up at Joel.

  “To the patio we geh.” He breathed in deeply and headed for the back porch.

  When they walked outside, he saw Vernon still wearing his clothes from work—dirt-crusted boots, broadfall pants that were almost threadbare at the knee, and a shirt still damp with sweat. Joel glanced at Grace. “You should geh inside,” he whispered.

  “Nee.” She set her chin resolutely. “I’m not leaving yer side.”

  Vernon lifted his head and his eyes narrowed. He pushed his hat back, revealing his creased, tanned forehead. “What are you doing here?”

  “We want to talk to you,” Grace said.

  Vernon turned his gaze to her. “Joel knows he’s not wanted here.”

  “Daed,” Grace said, her tone tense.

  “Geh inside, Gracie,” Joel said firmly. He could see that her father’s position hadn’t changed, and he didn’t want Grace to witness anything unpleasant between them.

  “Joel—”

  He turned to her, resolute. “Please, Grace. I can handle this.”

  She let out a long breath, nodded, and went in the house.

  “I made my stance clear yesterday.” Vernon crossed his arms, revealing biceps that rivaled Joel’s. He was impressed. “I meant what I said. Yer not welcome here.”

  “Why not?” He took a step forward, the image of Grace’s nervous face giving him courage. He didn’t want her to be worried or stressed any longer. “Why are you saying that to me?”

  “Because yer not worthy of mei dochder.”

  “That doesn’t explain anything.”

  Vernon’s left brow raised slightly. “You know what you did.”

  “That’s the problem.” Joel held up his hands. “I don’t know what I did. I’ve been wracking mei brain trying to figure out why yer so mad at me.”

  Vernon paused. “Think harder.”

  “Why don’t you just tell me?”

  The older man’s eyes narrowed. “You really don’t know?”

  Joel shrugged. “I have nee idea.”

  After a long pause, Vernon said, “I wasn’t always a roofer. Do you remember that?”

  Joel shook his head, a little embarrassed. He probably should have remembered, but when he was a kid, even into his teens, he didn’t pay much attention to things. It drove his father crazy, and more than once he’d told Joel he’d have to straighten up or he wouldn’t amount to anything. Which was why Joel had decided when he was eighteen he would prove himself to his father and uncle. He would be responsible. In fact, he was the reason his uncle’s clear-cutting business had gone through the roof. Joel had tipped off Uncle Abner to a huge clear-cutting job up for grabs and said he should bid on it. He’d gotten that information after church one Sunday, when he’d overheard some men talking . . .

  Oh no. His gut dropped to the ground.

  “I used to be in the clear-cutting business. Same as yer onkle and vatter. And yerself. Made a decent living at it too.”

  Memories came flooding back. That day in the backyard, Grace’s father and two other men were talking near one of the tables. Joel had been playing catch with a few of the other kids, and one of them had thrown the ball past him. He was retrieving it when he heard the men talking.

  “Fifty acres?” one of the men said.

  Vernon nodded. “Fifty acres. Biggest opportunity around here.”

  “I can’t believe the old man decided to give in,” another man said. “Every lumber company around here has been trying to get Douglas Quartermaine to sell his wood for years.”

  “And he’s finally doing it.” Vernon grinned.

  Joel bent and picked up the ball, tucking that tidbit of information in his brain before returning to the game. On his way home, he stopped at his uncle’s house. Onkel Abner rarely stayed to socialize after church. He was focused on work, so much so that Sunday afternoons were reserved for a well-deserved nap. But Joel had woken him up to tell him about the Quartermaine job.

  “Business was slow at that time,” Vernon continued, his tone icy. “Yer onkle and vatter always seemed to outbid me on jobs. They could do it because they had more resources. Money begets money, you know. But I figured I could save mei business if I was able to get Douglas Quartermaine to accept mei bid for his wood. And I almost did too—until yer uncle underbid me.”

  Joel wanted to crawl in a hole.

  Vernon walked toward him. “That was it for me. I had to fold the business. I couldn’t keep it and mei familye afloat. That’s when I started working for a Yankee guy who had his own roofing business. Been doing that for ten years now. I’m even second in charge, despite my aching knees and arthritic hands. But here’s the rub—I can’t stand roofing. I loved being a lumberjack. And I couldn’t figure out how yer uncle possibly knew about Quartermaine—until I remembered a conversation where his nephew was nearby, lingering as he fetched a stray ball.” He stood in front of Joel, his eyes filled with challenge. “Jogging yer memory now?”

  Joel gulped. “Ya,” he croaked.

  “I lost almost everything because of you. By the grace of God I was able to get back on mei feet and provide for mei familye.”

  “I didn’t know.” Joel gulped again. “Honest, I had nee idea you were going to bid on the job.”

  “Why else would I be talking about it?”

  Joel couldn’t respond. He’d only been thinking about how happy his uncle would be to hear about Quartermaine—and he definitely was. It was the opening Joel had needed to prove that he’d matured, that he could be a good and responsible worker. And he had been. After that job, his uncle decided to open another lumber business in Holmes County and sent Joel and his brother and father to run it. Joel decided to move back to Middlefield when his uncle mentioned he’d like to retire soon. Joel was poised to take over the business in a couple years, and it was all because he had told his uncle about an opportunity of a lifetime.

  He hadn’t realized he’d taken the opportunity away from Grace’s father.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, his words sounding lame to his own ears. How could he apologize for inadvertently ruining the man’s business? What could he say that would make up for it?

  But he had to say something more. He was Grace’s father, and they would be in-laws someday. Joel would make sure of it. But he could see it would be a rocky road ahead.

  “What are they saying?”

  Grace brushed Charity’s hand from her shoulder. They were leaning by the patio door, and Grace was occasionally looking outside, carefully so she wouldn’t be caught. “I don’t know,” she whispered. “I can’t hear anything.” She couldn’t really see anything either, other than Joel’s back. He and her father had been out there for a while. That had to be a good sign. Another good sign was that they weren’t yelling at each other, although it would have been shocking if they were. Like her father, Joel was even-keeled. But after her father’s uncharacteristic behavior yesterday and today, Grace wasn’t taking anything for granted.

  She saw Joel step back and her father move toward the door. “He’s coming.” She pushed Charity out of the way and rushed to the sink. She turned on the tap and pretended to be in the middle of washing her hands. A quick glance told her Charity was seated at the table, rubbing off an imaginary spot—their mother always kept the table perfectly clean.

  Her father slammed the door behind him and rushed out of the kitchen. Grace turned off the tap, her stomach sinking. That wasn’t a good sign. She dried her hands and rushed outside. Joel was just standing there, looking out at the yard.

  “Joel?” she said, moving toward him. When he didn’t answer or turn around, dread filled her.

  “Joel?” she repeated, moving to stand in front of him. She saw the faraway look in his eyes, the tension at his mouth, the jerking of his jaw.

/>   He finally looked at her. “Gracie . . . We have a big problem.”

  CHAPTER 3

  The next morning Vernon showed up for work, his eyes bleary. He hadn’t slept a wink last night. After Joel left, Grace ran upstairs to her room. She didn’t come down for supper, and Vernon wasn’t going to force her to. By now she must know what he and Joel had talked about, although he was sure Joel must have embellished the story to make himself look good. Even as he’d confronted him, the boy didn’t look like he really remembered what happened. Then when he did, he turned sickly pale.

  Vernon hadn’t expected that. He also hadn’t expected the feeling of guilt overwhelming him now. But what did he have to feel guilty about? He wasn’t in the wrong. Joel had ruined his business. True, the roofing company he worked for was also successful, and his boss was fair and paid well, but he’d rather be working in the woods than on hot slippery rooftops. But he had accepted that disappointment a long time ago, when he realized he’d have to find other work to support his family. He’d even forgiven Joel. At least, he thought he had, until he saw the boy sitting at his kitchen table.

  He removed his hat and rubbed his forehead. Grace came down for breakfast, but she didn’t eat much, and the usual chatter of an all-female household was nonexistent. His little girl’s heart was breaking. He could see that. But sometimes a person had to go through pain to learn the truth about people. He’d found that out firsthand.

  The job they were starting today was for a commercial building, so it would take at least a week to get it done. They were also short one worker, a guy who had been injured two weeks ago when he fell off the top rung of the ladder he was climbing to get to the roof. He’d be okay, but he couldn’t work with a broken leg. The rest of the crew would have to pick up the slack, and even with them working faster, it would still take a little longer to complete the job.

  He had just finished strapping his tool belt around his waist when someone tapped him on the shoulder. Thinking it was Mahlon, the youngest member of their group, who always had a million questions, he was buckling his belt when he turned around.

  “Not sure how long this job is going to take,” he said before looking up. He secured the belt and lifted his head. “I’m praying we have gut weather—” His eyes widened. Not again. Would this kid ever leave him alone?

  “Vernon.” Joel nodded at him, then started strapping on his own tool belt. A well-worn one, from what Vernon could tell.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Reporting for work.” He grinned and adjusted his straw hat.

  “Here?”

  Joel nodded. “I’m taking Timothy’s place until he can get back on his feet.”

  Vernon gaped. That couldn’t be right. “When . . . How . . .”

  “I see you’ve met our substitute.” Brian Dawson, the owner of the company, always came by new jobs on the first day. “Called me out of the blue last night and said he could fill in for Timothy. Also said he knew you, and you’d vouch for him. That was gut enough for me.”

  Joel was still smiling, but Vernon caught the trepidation in his eyes. This boy had more nerve than Vernon had expected. He thought about telling his boss he would never vouch for Joel, but he held his tongue. He wasn’t going to bring his boss, and an English man to boot, into his private business.

  “Everything looks set for the job,” Brian said. He pulled down the brim of his baseball cap, the roofing company logo emblazoned on the front. “We’ll be done ahead of schedule thanks to the addition of Joel.” He clapped Joel on the shoulder. “Be careful. I tell that to all my men. Roofing can be a dangerous business.”

  Joel nodded, and Brian walked away. Vernon moved to step in front of Joel. “I don’t know what you’re trying to pull . . . ,” he said in a low voice.

  “I’m not trying to pull anything.” Joel lifted his chin. “I’m here to prove myself to you. I am trustworthy. I’m also sorry for what happened years ago. If I’d known that yer business was riding on that bid, I wouldn’t have told mei uncle about it.”

  “You had nee business eavesdropping in the first place.”

  “I know. I was wrong.” He glanced around the worksite, then looked back at Vernon. “You want the best for Grace. We both do. I love her, and I realize that I have a lot to do to get back in your gut stead. I’m willing to do anything to prove it. I figure since you won’t speak to me and you won’t allow me near your property or yer dochder, I’ll have to do that proving here.”

  Several men were already on the roof. Vernon couldn’t waste any more time, but that didn’t mean he was happy Joel was here. “Keep yer distance,” he said.

  “I will.” They started for the building.

  “Have you ever done any roofing?” Vernon said, unable to resist asking the question. He didn’t like the idea of a complete novice twenty feet off the ground. It wasn’t safe for the rest of the crew—or for Joel.

  “Ya. Barns, a few houses, and I helped expand our current building in Holmes—”

  The reminder drove a spike into Vernon, and from Joel’s expression he could see the young man knew he’d made a mistake. Joel turned and hurried to the building.

  Vernon put his hand on his hammer. This was just another job. He didn’t have to pay any attention to Joel. He would do his work, keep his nose to the grindstone like he always did. Joel could try to get back in his good graces all he wanted to—it would never happen. He would never let him marry his daughter.

  Joel shimmied up the ladder, not looking back at Vernon. He’d stuck his foot in his mouth by bringing up the business in Holmes. Not a great start. But he was bound to make a mistake with his stomach tied up in knots. He tried to present himself as calm and collected, but inside he was a bundle of nerves. That seemed to be his usual state lately. He’d certainly been nervous when he told his uncle last night that he wanted to take a leave of absence from their business.

  “Why?” Uncle Abner had said, setting down the newspaper he was reading.

  “I’d like to try mei hand at something else.” An untruth, because he hated roofing. He had done it before, several times, because he was good with his hands. But being up on a hot roof, bent over, always making sure not to slip or have another kind of accident before the job was done—that was not something he enjoyed. But he would do anything to prove himself to Vernon, including getting up on a roof again. Not only did he owe it to the man, but he owed it to Grace too.

  She’d been upset when he told her what had happened between him and her father years ago. And he’d told her everything, not wanting to keep anything from her, even though the whole situation made him look bad. She forgave him right away, understanding that he’d made a foolish mistake.

  “I’ve been so worried about Daed. I’m just glad to know what made him so angry,” she’d said, taking his hand.

  “Turns out it’s definitely me.”

  She squeezed his fingers, then kissed his cheek. “You’re not that young mann anymore,” she said softly. “Today, you’re the mann I love. I know you’ll make everything right in the end.”

  He’d left her house feeling both boosted and apprehensive. Grace had proven once again that she was an amazing woman, one worth fighting for. Now he had to figure out what to do next. By the time he pulled into his uncle’s driveway, the idea of trying to join the roofing crew came to him.

  “But our business is doing well,” Uncle Abner said. “Yer doing well. I couldn’t ask for a better employee, and nephew.” Despite the kind words, he narrowed his eyes behind his silver-rimmed glasses. Then he lifted his paper in front of his face. “Nee need to upset the apple cart.”

  “Too late,” Joel muttered. He’d already upset a few of them in the span of two days.

  The paper came down again. “What are you talking about?”

  Joel explained the entire situation to his uncle, including his part in Vernon’s business failing. “I want to marry Grace. The only way her vatter will agree is if I prove he can trust me. I c
alled Dawson’s Roofing Company where Vernon works, and they happen to have an injured man they need to replace for the time being.”

  “You did that without talking to me?”

  “I wanted to make sure the opportunity was available.”

  His uncle shook his head. “I can’t believe Vernon’s blaming you for what happened to his business years ago. That’s all water under the bridge now.”

  “He blames me because I am at fault.” When his uncle started to say something, Joel interrupted him. “Please,” he said. “Let me have the time off for a couple of weeks. Hopefully that will be enough time to prove myself. Then I’ll come back to work for you.”

  His uncle scowled. “It doesn’t bother you that yer leaving me in a lurch?”

  Joel held out his hands, palms up. “I realize that. And ya, it bothers me. But what else can I do? I have to make this right, and not just because of Grace.”

  His uncle’s eyes narrowed again, and Joel prepared himself for the answer he didn’t want to hear. But he would quit his lumberjack job if he had to. He kept his gaze steady as his uncle continued to stare at him, his expression impassive.

  Finally, his uncle nodded. “You’ve never asked me for much, Joel. And you are one of the reasons we’ve been thriving all these years. Not the only reason, of course.” He brought the paper back up again. “Two weeks,” he said. “Not an hour more.”

  Joel had been jubilant after Uncle Abner’s agreement, but now that he was up on the roof, getting ready to do the work he hated, he wondered if he’d made a huge mistake. How exactly was he going to prove himself to Vernon? He hadn’t thought that far. Vernon would see he was a good worker, but that wouldn’t exactly mean anything, since most all the Amish he knew were hard workers. But at least he was in close proximity to Grace’s father. That was a start. He’d figure out the rest later.

  “Ow!” He yanked his hand from the roof and looked at his stinging thumb.

  “Can’t even use a hammer right.”

  Joel glanced over his shoulder. Vernon was several feet behind him but still within earshot. Joel pressed his thumb to his lips. He was not getting off to a great start.