The Punishment (Doris's Christmas Story Book 2) Page 6

  Nathaniel grinned. “That sounds like a mighty gut idea. Don’t mind if I do.” He put down the heavy rag he was holding and started for the door. “You two come on in, too.”

  “We will, Dat,” Matthew said, but he made no move to follow.

  Nathaniel left, and Matthew came over to where Doris was standing. He looked into her eyes, and even though she wanted to look away, she couldn’t. This was what she’d wanted. Matthew right there in front of her. Matthew, gazing into her eyes and seeing what was there.

  “Something’s happened,” he said gruffly. “That’s why you’re here.”

  “Can’t I just come to visit you anymore?” she asked, her heart beating fast and hard.

  “Sure, you can. But this isn’t that.”

  Maybe, she’d been wrong in coming. Feeling his gaze pin her to the wall, she wasn’t so sure anymore that this was what she’d wanted.

  “I… I…” She took a deep breath. What was the matter with her these days? She had been sure that once Jordan got home, and Christmas drew near, everything would be fine.

  “What’s he done now?” Matthew’s tone was harsh, and a look of impatience filled his face.

  “Who?” she asked, although she knew full well he was talking about Jordan.

  “Jordan,” he said.

  “How do you know he’s done something?” she asked, her voice quick and strong now. Goodness, but Matthew could get her annoyed in two seconds flat.

  “Because you’re here. Because of the look in your eyes. And you’re about to burst into tears, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

  She drew in a breath and squared her shoulders. “I am not,” she countered, but even as she said the words, she felt the tears burning in the back of her eyes.

  “Jah, you are.” His tone softened and he took her hand and pulled her over to a bale of hay where he sat down and pulled her down to join him. “I’m sorry. I’ll be nice. What’s happened?”

  She opened her mouth to tell him, but the words were so awful, they wouldn’t come out. The tears welled in her eyes, and she felt them begin to slip down her cheeks.

  “Ach, Doris. What is it?” He rubbed the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs. Over the years, he’d done this plenty of times, but somehow, that day, that moment, it seemed so intimate, so gentle, that she wanted to melt into his arms.

  She began to cry harder and he pulled her against him, cradling her with his strong arm about her shoulders. “Is it that bad?” he asked softly.

  She nodded against him, and then she forced herself to sit back up. She swallowed her tears with great effort and realized she was acting like a child. She was not a child anymore, and she was strong enough to handle this. Or so she told herself.

  “Jordan is … is at a tavern,” she managed to eke out. “I-I saw him there.”

  “You saw him at a tavern?” Matthew asked, leaning back slightly to get a better look at her.

  “Jah. Just now. On the edge of town.”

  Matthew tensed. She could feel it spread through him—a hardening, even though they weren’t touching. “And how do you know? How do you know he was really in there?” The words were clipped, harsh. She saw his jaw clench.

  “I… I…” She couldn’t continue.

  “Did you go into that tavern?” Every word came out like a bullet.

  “I…” She bit her lip.

  He lurched up from the bale of hay. “You went into the tavern? Are you crazy?”

  She blinked hard. “Maybe I am crazy,” she cried defiantly. “But I had to know, didn’t I? I had to know if it was him and not his dat or one of his brothers!”

  “Nee, you didn’t need to know. And what if it had been his dat? What were you going to do then? Greet him nicely and ask him how he was doing?”

  Doris didn’t know when she’d seen Matthew so angry. She tried to appear stoic and sure of herself, but he was right. What exactly would she have said to Mr. Lehman if it had been him? She shuddered. She hadn’t been thinking straight. Matthew was right—she was crazy.

  He plunked down beside her, staring at her. “When are you going to see him clearly? Huh? He’s no gut for you, Doris. No gut.”

  She bristled. “How do you know? You don’t know how we are together!”

  He winced, and she felt a pang of remorse. But he hardened again, just as quickly. “Why did you come to see me? Do you want me to go to the tavern and drag Jordan away?”

  She gasped. “Nee! I don’t want you to do anything!”

  He kept staring at her. “Then why are you here?”

  Why indeed? she asked herself. She didn’t dare tell him that she thought he would make her feel better. She thought everything would be clearer if she saw him. She thought his very presence next to her would help the world make more sense.

  She didn’t dare tell him any of those things because she was wrong. Seeing him hadn’t made a thing better. If anything, she felt worse than ever. She stood up. Her legs felt shaky beneath her, but she didn’t falter.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have come.”

  He stood up, too, and towered over her. She’d never realized before just how much taller he was than she. Oh, she knew he was taller, but he’d never seemed bigger than he did right then. She forced herself to look up into his eyes. She expected him to be glaring at her, but he wasn’t. His expression looked tortured and raw, and she caught her breath.

  “Matthew?” she whispered.

  He grimaced and leaned down ever so slightly. “That’s not what I meant. I didn’t mean you shouldn’t have come.” He blew out his breath in a frustrated huff. “I just don’t understand what you want from me.”

  “What I w…?” She blinked rapidly, feeling the lump of tears in her throat grow bigger. “I … I don’t know. I guess I just wanted to tell you.”

  He tried to smile. “Like you have always told me everything.”

  “Kind of.” She also tried to smile, but it felt stiff, uncomfortable. She was suddenly unsure of herself. What did she want from Matthew? She hardly knew. Comfort? Sympathy? Understanding? It was all jumbled within her like an unmade puzzle.

  “We’re friends,” he said, as if convincing himself.

  “Jah. I thought so.” Her half-smile was genuine now. “We’ve always been friends, ain’t so?”

  He nodded and pressed his lips together.

  “I am sorry I came,” she went on, hesitantly. “I… Well, I shouldn’t be burdening you with my worries.”

  He grabbed her arm. “Jah, you should. I want you to always come to me, Doris. You’re always welcome here.”

  Doris studied his face. She didn’t feel welcome. But Matthew wasn’t one to lie. Ever. Not since she’d known him.

  “Thank you,” she uttered, wondering why she still felt completely uncomfortable.

  Chapter Ten

  Matthew looked down into Doris’s troubled eyes and wanted to punch Jordan Lehman right in the jaw. He wanted to punch himself just as badly. What was he thinking, blurting out that he wanted Doris to always come to him? Because it wasn’t true. He didn’t want her to always come to him. Not like this.

  And not for this.

  He was sick to death of watching Doris suffer because she was in love with that idiot. Funny, but he’d never take Doris for a fool. But lately, she was sure acting like one.

  And now he could see the doubt in her eyes. She was doubting his words. Well, he was doubting them himself.

  Ach, but he was sick of this.

  “Your mamm will have the hot chocolate ready,” she said.

  “Verna ain’t my mamm,” he replied, and his eyes nearly bulged from his face. Why in the name of all that was good, had he said that?

  Doris gaped at him stupidly. “Wh-what?” she stammered.

  “I… I mean, jah, the hot chocolate will be ready.” His face burned with shame. How could he betray Verna like that? She’d been his mother for years. Years and years. She loved him like a son. He loved her like a mother.


  But she’s not my mother! his heart cried. We are not related, Doris! You and I are not related. He wanted to scream it out.

  She stood there, still gaping at him. “But why would you say that?” she asked, her face crumpling into a pained frown. “Verna loves you. She is your mother in every way.”

  Nee, she isn’t, she isn’t, she isn’t.

  Matthew cleared his throat. “Forget I said it. I don’t know what I was thinking. Of course, she’s my mamm.”

  “But Matthew—”

  “Forget I said it,” he repeated more harshly now, his face still burning.

  “But—”

  “Let’s go in, shall we?” He dropped his grip on her arm. He turned and headed out of the barn, his eyes welling with tears of shame and frustration. He was the fool now. He was the fool to ever have hoped that he and Doris could be more than cousins.

  He felt a sudden urge to see Annie. Being with her would set things right. There was no confusion with Annie. Everything was straight-forward, simple. No conflicted feelings. No forbidden affection.

  He increased his pace until Doris was practically running to keep up with him. Blessedly, she didn’t say anything. He didn’t know if he could even utter a simple sentence to her at that point. He approached the side door and was about to reach for the knob, when he knew he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t go inside and sip hot chocolate with Nathaniel and Verna and Doris and pretend that everything was all right.

  He simply couldn’t do it.

  “You go on in,” he said, surprised his voice worked. “I have an errand to run. Tell Mamm I’ve gone to the Hershbergers.”

  Doris’s eyes widened. “You w-won’t come in?”

  He stared at her for a long moment and then shook his head. He turned on his heel and strode straight back to the barn.

  “B-but Matthew, I thought you might take me home.”

  He couldn’t answer her. Stunned, he realized that if he turned to look at her, he would cry, and that just wouldn’t do. So, he didn’t respond. He just kept walking, putting his mind on Jordan Lehman. Better to think on him than on Doris. Anger grew within him and he was glad. Better to feel anger than to feel … agonized over Doris.

  Yes, anger suited him right well at the moment.

  And he wasn’t going to visit the Hershbergers, he decided. He was going to visit the tavern he knew Doris had been talking about.

  * * *

  Doris stood on the doorstep and watched Matthew walk away. His strides were long and purposeful and intent in a frighteningly determined fashion. And he was announcing his visit to the Hershbergers to his folks? Why, they would know who he was courting, then. Had Matthew even given it a thought before saying that? She frowned. She wasn’t going to tell his parents. He’d likely regret it. She’d just tell them that he’d remembered an errand.

  What had gotten into Matthew lately, anyway? One minute, he was his kind usual self, and the next, he was some harsh, cold person she didn’t even know. Had things gone badly between him and Annie? No, surely not. Or why would he be wanting to see her right then?

  But the alternative was too painful to consider… That Matthew had grown tired of Doris. He was tired of her visits, tired of her confidences, tired of her. The very thought sent shooting pain through Doris’s heart. No. She wouldn’t consider that. She couldn’t.

  The next time she saw Matthew, she was going to ask him how he was doing. How Annie was doing. She wasn’t going to say one thing about herself or about Jordan. If she were careful, maybe she could fix whatever it was that had gone wrong between them.

  * * *

  Matthew heaved a sigh of relief when he saw that Jordan’s buggy was still outside the tavern. Around the back, to be sure. So at least, he’d put some effort into hiding it. How had Doris seen it in the first place? This tavern wasn’t exactly on the way anywhere Doris would be going. Was she out searching for him? The very thought made him disgusted. What had happened to his dear Doris? She was turning into someone he didn’t like.

  And all because of Jordan Lehman.

  Defiantly, Matthew parked his buggy right out front—where anyone passing could easily see it. And he didn’t care who did see it. If questioned, he would answer honestly—that he was there to talk to Jordan. Ach, Doris would be furious if that did happen. In truth, she would likely be furious he was there in the first place.

  Well, so be it.

  He secured the reins, flipped off his heater, and got out of the buggy. Now that he was actually going in, he felt self-conscious. This was not a place he would ever visit—not a place he would ever frequent. As he entered the dark and smoke-filled haze in the room, he imagined Doris in there. His precious Doris walking around in her Amish garb amidst all these men. It was unthinkable. He glanced around. There wasn’t another woman there.

  He took a shallow breath, feeling his anger go up a notch. Where was the guy? Where was that fool, Jordan Lehman?

  And then he spotted him. Sulking at the bar, a drink in his hand. His head was partially down as if he were studying the contents of his glass. Matthew strode over to him and put his hand on Jordan’s shoulder. Jordan jerked in surprise and looked up.

  “M-Matthew?” he asked, his voice slurred.

  “Get up,” Matthew said through gritted teeth.

  “Huh? Why?”

  “Get up,” Matthew repeated. “We’re leaving.”

  “Nee, we ain’t,” Jordan said with a big grin on his face. “Sit down here. Have a drink.” He laughed. “Or two or three.”

  Matthew’s anger quickly turned to disgust. “Jordan, let’s go.”

  He’d come in to confront him, have it out with him, even. But Matthew hadn’t expected this—hadn’t expect this goofy, drunken Jordan.

  Jordan was laughing again. “Come on, Matthew,” he said. “S-sit down. I’ll even buy.” Jordan must have thought that was hilarious, for he was really cracking up now.

  His breath stunk as Matthew leaned down. “Jordan. Come on. I want to show you something.”

  “Huh? What is it? Huh? Whatcha got?” He swayed a bit on his stool and Matthew caught the eye of the bartender.

  “What’s he owe?” he asked.

  “He’s paying as he goes,” the bartender answered and shrugged. “So, nothing.”

  “Thanks,” Matthew said curtly. He grabbed Jordan’s arm and half-dragged him from the bar. The minute the cold air hit Jordan, he flinched and closed his eyes.

  “Too cold out here,” he muttered. “Let’s g-go back inside. I wanna go back inside.”

  “Not on your life,” Matthew said. “I’m taking you home.”

  “Home? Home?” Jordan laughed. “I don’t got no home. C’mon, Matthew, let’s get a drink…”

  Matthew shoved Jordan into the passenger seat of his buggy and then got in. He’d take Jordan home and bring one of Jordan’s brothers back to take their buggy home. He wondered how long Jordan’s horse had been standing out there waiting for him. Matthew’s jaw tightened. This isn’t what he’d come for—to coddle Jordan like he was a baby. But here he was…

  “I don’t feel gut,” Jordan said, holding his stomach.

  “Get out!” Matthew cried. “Don’t you be sick in here. Get out!”

  Jordan opened the door and stumbled out of the buggy. He was sick in the middle of the parking lot. Matthew was about to get out and help him back in, but before he could do so, Jordan clambered back in on his own. The stench was unbearable. Matthew opened a window, even though he had the heater going now.

  Jordan flopped back and closed his eyes, chuckling. Matthew stared at him and scowled before picking up the reins and heading toward the Lehman farm. For a moment, he considered taking Jordan home with him. He knew that delivering Jordan in this condition was going to break Sandy Lehman’s heart all over again. Likely, Jordan’s father’s heart, too.

  But then, if he took Jordan to his house, that would mean Nathaniel and Verna would know about it, too, and even though Matthew d
idn’t care, he knew Doris would. And right then, despite all previous intentions to the contrary, he wanted to consider Doris’s feelings.

  Even if it meant helping this oaf of a man.

  It didn’t take long to arrive at the Lehman farm. He drove right up to the front porch. Jordan appeared to be sleeping, so Matthew got out and went to the front door. He knocked, and Jordan’s father answered.

  “Why, Matthew, what brings you around today?” he asked with a big smile.

  Matthew took off his hat. “I… I’ve got Jordan in the buggy,” he said, keeping his voice low.

  “You’ve got… What?” William Lehman asked. “Jordan?” He craned his neck around Matthew to try and peer into his buggy.

  “He was… Well, he was at a tavern.”

  “What? He was to be with the bishop!”

  Mathew felt sorry for the man. He didn’t have time to respond, before William pushed by him and hurried down to the buggy. He threw open the door and stood there, gawking at his son.

  “Get out!” he hollered. “Get out now.”

  Jordan roused and grinned up at his father. “Hello, Dat. How ya doin’?”

  “Get out.”

  Matthew stepped close. “If you’ll get one of your other sons, I’ll drive him back to the tavern so he can bring your buggy home.”

  William had Jordan half-way out of the buggy by now. Jordan reached out to Matthew as if to grab his arm, but he missed. “S-see ya later, M-Matthew,” he slurred.

  Matthew didn’t help William get Jordan into the house. It was bad enough that he was there at all to witness it. He climbed back into the buggy which still smelled faintly of booze and vomit and waited. Within minutes, Jordan’s brother Theodore came out to get into the buggy with him.

  They didn’t say much until they reached the tavern. Matthew pulled to a stop beside the Lehman buggy. Theodore looked at Matthew.

  “Thank you. Dat says thank you, too. I’m sorry about all this.”

  “I’m sorry, too. And I was glad to help,” Matthew replied simply.