The Proposal at Siesta Key (17 page)

“Michael?”

Eric nodded. “I sat with him for a while last night. Almost the whole time, he was fretting about you.”

“Truly?”

This time it was Beverly who answered. “Yes. See, after you left, he told me what he thought of my treatment of you but he wasn't exactly thrilled with how my words reflected on his character, either. He was right, of course. I really messed up yesterday.”

Penny knew it would take her quite some time to process everything that Beverly and Eric had told her. However, two things were already shining through. The first was that she'd done a good job at the inn; she was mighty pleased about that. The second bit of news, however, left her fairly breathless.

Michael Knoxx had come to her defense.

She had no idea what was going to happen next. All she knew was that she wasn't about to go backward.

That was enough for now. “I'll be there as soon as I can.”

Eric looked at his watch. “Why don't you take your time? I'm sure this has been a difficult morning and you probably want to visit with your parents.”

“Or would you rather I speak to them for you?” Beverly asked. “I'll be glad to let them know that what happened was my fault and my fault alone.”

Penny wasn't entirely sure that was the case. Beverly had rushed to some conclusions, but Penny
had
let herself get too attached to Michael. She couldn't deny that. She should have remained a bit more distant with him. It wasn't like they would ever have a future together. “There's no need to talk to them. I will.”

“All right then,” Eric said. “How about we see you in an hour or two? Just come back whenever you are ready.”

“I can do that. I'll talk with my parents, have some breakfast, then head over. Thank you again.”

“You're very welcome,” Eric said before he and Beverly walked out.

As Penny closed the door after them, she knew she needed to talk to her parents. No doubt they'd be on pins and needles, wondering what she, Mr. Eric, and Miss Beverly had all been saying to one another.

But instead of being mad at Penny, her parents had been concerned. And that, she realized, was something that had made it all worthwhile. She and her parents were making progress. After living in limbo for twelve years, they were all moving forward. At last.

W
hen Tricia walked into the inn's small upstairs sitting area the next morning, she was brought up short. There, on one of the couches, just as if he hung out there all the time, was none other than Michael Knoxx.

Though she knew he was in the house, of course, she hadn't seen him since he'd returned from the hospital on Saturday. She'd kept track of her aunt's reports about his surgery and recovery, though. After all, he was pretty much the main topic of conversation around the inn. Eric seemed to enjoy his company but Aunt Beverly continually fretted that she wasn't doing enough for him. And Penny, of course, seemed completely smitten with him.

But then, there had been all the commotion she'd heard last night. Tricia hadn't been brave enough to ask her aunt what had happened between Michael and Penny, but she figured it must've been something pretty awful to send the whole place into a state of turmoil.

“What are you doing in here?” she asked. The last Tricia had heard, Michael was still basically bedridden.

His eyebrows rose. “Hello to you, too.”

She rolled her eyes. “Dwell on good manners if you must, but you and I both know that you aren't supposed to be out of bed.”

“Tricia, don't be a worrywart,” he said in a breezy way, which was strangely appealing. “I'm feeling much better. And since you're neither my nurse nor my mother, I have no concerns about where you think I am supposed to be.”

“You know, it's no wonder you speak on stage,” she said sarcastically. “You certainly like to make your point.”

He grinned. “Loud and clear.”

She walked closer. “Michael, your recuperation has the whole household tied up in knots. My aunt has been worried sick.”

For the first time in their acquaintance, she thought he looked a bit unsure. “I'm sorry to hear that. I've been trying to not be too difficult a patient.”

“She didn't say you were and I'm not telling you this to worry you. I'm telling you this so you will understand why you shouldn't be out of bed.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “I couldn't stay in that room another minute.”

“What's wrong with it?” Maybe she needed to freshen his sheets or something?

“You know why. Sitting in one room for days is tedious. I was bored.” He scowled. “Not that it is any of your business.”

He sounded so irritated and saddened, Tricia felt guilty. “Sorry I lectured you.”

His eyes lit up. “Don't be. It's kind of fun sparring with another person for a change. You remind me of my sister.”

“I'll take that as a compliment.”

“You should. Molly is great. She keeps me in line. I never thought I needed that, but maybe I do. Penny is far too patient
and kind. Sometimes I really have to watch myself or I'll mow her over.”

“Penny
is
patient and kind.” She was also adorable in that girl-next-door way, shy, and had that lovely, curly hair. She was everything Tricia had hoped to be. However, the Lord had given her a gregarious nature, a temper, and a rather tomboyish figure. No matter how hard she'd attempt to mind her manners and watch her tongue, she'd never be able to adopt Penny Troyer's purely feminine demeanor.

He smiled. “She is.”

“I haven't seen Penny yet today. I guess she has a day off.”

As if she'd flipped a switch, the light left his eyes. “I hope that is the case.”

Knowing he was referring to the big fight, she didn't respond. “Since I'm here and Penny is not, may I get you anything?
Kaffi?
Iced tea?”

“Maybe in a minute. Why did you come up here anyway?”

She pointed to a book on the table. “I left my library book here.” She'd had to stop in the middle of a really good section and was eager to read the next couple of chapters.

“What are you reading?”

“Oh, it's, um, just a romance.” When he smirked at the Amish woman on the cover, she felt her insides bristle. “It's a good one, though.”

Still staring at the book, he asked, “Aren't all romances good?”

“Are you speaking of books or real life?”

Lifting his gaze, he met her eyes. “Both.”

Again, she was struck by how his personality seemed to fill the room—even a small sitting room like this. “I'm not sure about that,” she said slowly. “I've never been in love.”

“No?”

“Nee.”

He leaned back against the cushions and shifted. “Tricia, come sit down. My neck is starting to get an awful crick in it.”

The light in his eyes told her he wasn't above using sympathy to get his way. “I doubt that.” But still, she took a seat.

Once she was sitting primly next to him, wondering if the bright pink fabric of her dress might be a bit too bright, he asked, “So what's your story?”

It was a bit disconcerting to receive his complete, undivided attention. “I don't have one,” she sputtered.

“Sure you do,” he said impatiently. “Where are you from? Why are you here?”

“I'm from Sugarcreek, Ohio, and I'm here to visit my aunt.”

He looked at her so intently, she could swear he was trying to read her mind. Then he shook his head. “No, that's not it.”

“That is exactly it,” she lied.

“That is the bare bones of the story. Come on, Tricia, give a guy something to think about besides missing part of a leg.”

She gaped at him. “I can't believe you said that!”

He didn't look the least bit shamefaced. “Tricia, it's not a secret.”

“But still . . .”

He chuckled. “See, this is why you need to talk to me. If we leave the subjects up to me, we'll venture into all sorts of awkward areas.”

“Obviously.”

“So. Why are you here, really?”

Maybe it was the way he listened so carefully. Maybe it was because she was more afraid to talk about his injury than her past. Or maybe, just maybe, she needed to tell someone who
could be objective. Whatever the reason, finally, Tricia said, “Something happened back in Sugarcreek that I thought was important.”

“You don't think it is important anymore?”

“I'm not sure,” she said honestly. “Now that I have some distance and some time has gone by, I'm starting to wonder if everything that I thought was so important was minor after all.”

“If it matters to you, it's important.”

His comment, so sure and simply stated, startled a laugh from her. “You don't even know what I'm referring to!”

“Maybe I don't need to know.”

“You are beyond frustrating. If you didn't need to know, why did you even ask?”

“I asked before I realized your reason was such a closely guarded secret.”

“I had some trouble with my friends,” she blurted. “A rumor had been started about me, and I was getting teased.” Almost against her will, she felt her gaze drift toward his injured leg. Pretty much everyone knew his story. He'd survived a terrible accident. Even now, he was recovering from injuries sustained in it. Her problems seemed minuscule in comparison.

Embarrassed, she stood up. “You know what, I have to go.”

“I'm sorry,” he said. “I'm sorry you were being teased. I know that's hard.”

She was about to brush off his apology when his words—and his tone—hit her hard. “You know about being teased?”

“Of course I do.”

He was famous. He was handsome. She assumed most people wanted to be his friend. That, at least to her mind, left only one area where people could target him. “Do people tease you about your leg?”

To her surprise, he looked amused by the idea. “About how I had to have part of it amputated?
Nee
. Not so much. Comments like that kind of cross the boundaries of good taste, don't you think?”

“Then what?” she asked. Realizing she was about to cross those boundaries of good taste herself, she flushed. “Sorry, it's none of my business.”

“Of course it's your business. I'm the one who wanted to talk. Ain't so?” After she shrugged, he said, “Tricia, when you have a job like mine, being out in public, speaking on stage? It kind of opens a person up to a lot of criticism.”

“I suppose it does. I never thought about that.”

“Some of that criticism hurts.” His expression clouded. “Sometimes people see me on stage, hear me speak for ten minutes, learn something about my life, and then think they know everything about me. They don't, of course.”

“How do you deal with it?”

“I'm lucky. I rarely do much without my family. We support each other.” He grinned. “We're also honest enough to give criticism if it's deserved. Do you have that support?”

“I do. But the things they were being mean about? They weren't things that I wanted my parents to know.”

“So who did you tell?”

“My aunt Beverly.”

“I'm glad you told someone. That's
gut
.”

She nodded. “Aunt Bev is super kind, and I'm glad she understands, but it doesn't really change anything.” She shrugged. “But I'm getting through it.”

“All you can do is take things one day at a time,
jah
?”

His eyes were gentle, gentle enough that she wished she were a whole lot more like Penny Troyer and a whole lot less like his
sister. But perhaps instead of having a crush on him she could foster a friendship? That was something that would be more meaningful and longer lasting.

“
Danke
,” she whispered. “Talking to you helped.”

He looked pleased. “I'm glad.”

She liked that. She liked how he didn't brush off her thanks, or make light of her words. She was just about to tell him so when his warm gaze lifted from hers and settled on someone behind her. Curious, she turned and saw Penny Troyer staring at the two of them, confusion written all over her face.

Hoping Penny hadn't mistakenly misread the situation, Tricia smiled brightly, in what she hoped was a welcoming way. “Hi, Penny.”

“Hello. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt. I was just looking for Michael.”

“You didn't interrupt a thing,” Tricia said in a rush. “We were just talking. About nothing important.” She glanced back at Michael, but either he didn't hear her or he didn't feel the need to respond. Because he was still staring at Penny.

“I'm glad you found me,” he said. “I was just telling Tricia here that I needed a break from my bedroom's walls.” He lifted a hand. “Come here and talk with me. I want to know how you are. I've been worried sick about you.”

“You have?”

“Absolutely.”

As Penny stepped forward, Tricia edged out of the room. It was painfully obvious that there was only one girl Michael had eyes for.

And it certainly wasn't her.

T
he moment they were completely alone, Michael spoke. “Penny, you seem a little worried. Are you upset about last night?”

Her blue eyes widened before closing briefly. When she met his gaze again, it was obvious that she'd placed a firm hold on her emotions. “
Nee
. Believe it or not, I talked to my parents about what happened between us and neither of them thought we'd done anything wrong.”

“That's because we didn't.”

“And then, this morning, both Miss Beverly and Mr. Eric came to my
haus
.”

Michael was surprised to hear it, but he was pleased, too. “That's
gut
. What did they say?”

“Miss Beverly apologized.” Penny shook her head in wonder. “Oh, Michael, I had thought I was fired, for sure.”

“I'm glad you weren't.” Then, instead of rehashing all the events from last evening, he attempted to lighten things up. “We should probably have a bowl of ice cream or something this afternoon. A celebration is in order, I think.”

“Because?”

“Because I'm out of my room.” When she slowly smiled, he added, “I couldn't sit there another hour. I was too restless.”

“You're right. We need to have some ice cream and celebrate. If you're out here, it means you're feeling better.”

“Will you get some for us when you take your break after lunch?”

“Of course I will.” Eyes sparkling, she added, “I might even buy some hot fudge sauce, too.”

“I can't wait.” Glancing at her, Michael was once again struck by how pretty she was. He loved her curly blond hair, and how strands were constantly springing out from under her white
kapp
. Her eyes were mesmerizing, and he was certain he'd do just about anything to see that dimple of hers.

But he could still tell that she wasn't completely herself yet. She seemed far more tentative around him. Almost shy. “Maybe we should talk about yesterday after all,” he said quietly. “Are you really all right?”

“I'm not quite sure. Yesterday really confused me.”

“Because Beverly got mad at you?”

“
Jah
. And other things.” Straightening her shoulders, she looked directly at him. “She was right. I shouldn't have been sitting so close to you, holding your hand.”

“I was glad you were holding my hand. Everything that has happened to me since I arrived in Pinecraft—the pain, the surgery, my family leaving, the recovery—it's all been difficult to deal with, though I actually didn't think much could faze me anymore.” Taking a breath, his expression lightened. “I mean to say, everything's been mighty hard to deal with . . . except for you.”

“You have been a good friend to me, too.”

Two steps forward, one step back.
“Do you remember what I proposed on Siesta Key?”

“Of course I do.”

“Tell me,” he coaxed. Honestly, it was taking everything he had not to reach for her hand right now and link their fingers together.

“We vowed to cherish each moment,” Penny recalled, a winsome smile on her lips. “To embrace each hour. Live each day.”

“And we have.”

“We've certainly tried.” She paused. “Maybe too hard.”

Her comment made him smile. “Make fun of our pact if you want, but I took it to heart.”

“I took it to heart, too. And I think I have moved forward.” Leaning closer, so close he could smell the faint lemon scent of her hair, she said, “I still can't believe that my parents were on my side.”

“Well, of course they were. You did not do anything wrong.”

“You don't understand. They've been mad at me for going against their wishes. They've refused to see me as a grown woman, as an adult. But when I told them about holding your hand, my mother started chuckling.”

“She laughed? Why?”

“She said that it seemed like a lot of nothing for Beverly to get excited about.”

He smiled at her, genuinely pleased. “My
mamm
would have said the same thing. I'm so glad for you, Penny.”

“I am, too. It's been hard. My parents have been all I've had for a long time.”

“But that isn't the case any longer. Now you have your job, and you're making more friends.”

“This is true. Every day, my circle seems to be getting bigger.”

“Plus, now we have our friendship.”

“
Jah
. Our friendship is special to me.”

It was special to him, too. “Though the reason I've gotten to know you has been hard, I'm mighty glad my family encouraged me to stay here longer.”

“Me, too. I only wish time hasn't gone by so fast. You've already been here for more than a week.”

“Just three weeks to go.”

“Do you know what date you're going to leave?”

“
Nee
. I should probably call my brother and talk things through with him.”

“I bet you can't wait.”

Though his first instinct was to agree, he was discovering that with Penny he couldn't do anything but be completely honest. With that in mind, he said, “Actually, I'm not in any hurry to call him. See, the last time we spoke, things were fairly strained between us.”

He glanced at her, half expecting her to begin peppering him with questions. But Penny was simply sitting quietly. She wasn't grilling him with questions or expecting him to entertain her or to spout encouraging or insightful stories. She never did. Instead, she looked content to follow his lead, to allow him to take the time he needed.

It was a wonderful thing.

Penny Troyer calmed him. She cleared his head.

She made him feel like he didn't have to try so hard. And having been around many, many people, in many, many parts of the country and even in different parts of the world, he knew what a gift that was.

How in the world was he going to give a woman like her up? Why would he want to?

Feeling her support, he said, “Penny, remember yesterday, how I told you I wanted to stop touring and speaking?”

“Of course I do.”

“Well, I feel even more certain about my decision this morning. I need to stop soon. Very soon.”

“I can't help but fear that might be a mistake, Michael. I know I only saw you once on stage, but you seemed to really enjoy speaking to everyone. Actually, you seemed kind of larger than life. Why would you want to give that up?”

There she went again. Asking him simple questions, questions that made him think and consider . . . but didn't press him for more than he was willing or able to give. And because she was so considerate of how he was feeling, it made him want to share even more.

“See, the thing is, I'm not larger than life.”

“Of course you aren't. I only meant that you were mesmerizing.”

When he smiled at that, her cheeks turned bright red. “I'm sorry, I don't want to embarrass you.” She looked a little sheepish. “Or maybe I don't want to mortify myself any further.”

“Don't be embarrassed. I like your honesty. I admire it.” Taking a fortifying breath, he said, “Truthfully, I'm tired of the pace.”

“Maybe you could slow down? That sounds like a
gut
compromise,
jah
?”

He was finding it hard to verbalize everything he had kept to himself for so long. But her blue eyes, so clear and kind, made him want to be as frank as ever. “I'm tired of always living out of a suitcase. Of never being home. I'm tired of staying in other people's homes and feeling like I need to be something I'm not so they're not disappointed.”

Finally looking at her again, he said, “But most of all, I can hardly stand the idea that there is no end in sight. I need an end.”

“Oh, Michael,” she whispered. “I had no idea.”

“I'm not going to say it's been a sacrifice, because it hasn't. I've been blessed to have had so many adventures and opportunities. But of late, my life hasn't felt full of blessings. It's felt full of burdens.”

She pursed her lips, then said, “Do you mind if I share something?”

“Of course not.”

“Michael, after what happened to Lissy, with the trial and the reporters and the anger and the pain . . . Well, my parents and I felt like we were living each day only half-alive. The other half we spent looking over our shoulders. That was one of the reasons we moved here to Sarasota.” She breathed in deeply. “We wanted to be normal. We
yearned
for normalcy.”

“You do understand.”

She nodded. “I think I do. The lure of having a home and stability and to simply live? Those things are as valuable as diamonds and gold to some people.”

“For people like you and me, their worth can never be overstated.”

She smiled. “Exactly.”

“Penny, what am I going to do without you?” he whispered around a breath. Only after did he realize he'd mistakenly uttered that question loud enough for her to hear.

“Maybe you'll miss me,” she said simply. Then, as if she'd just realized what she said, her eyes widened and her cheeks bloomed brightly. “I mean, maybe you'll miss our friendship.”

He knew he was going to miss a lot of things. “I
know
I'll miss you, Penny.”

“I'm going to miss you, too.”

But when he met her eyes, it occurred to him that they both knew something else, something they hadn't said aloud. They might want the same things, they might even yearn for things to be different. But that didn't mean they would be able to get what they wanted. Sometimes that was an impossibility, better left to the dreamers and romantics.

Not to people like them.