A Plain Man (27 page)

“With whom?” Josie didn't bother hiding behind her hand.

“My friend Kathleen agreed to take us home, even though it's a tad out of the way.” Laura grinned affectionately.

“
Danki,
dear one.” Josie kissed Laura's forehead, knowing her girlfriend lived in the opposite direction. Piling brownies and Apple Betty bars onto a plate, Josie hurried to where Caleb had found a place to sit. “You won't believe this.” She lifted her legs over the picnic bench.

“Your
schwestern
rounded up a ride home tonight?” Caleb leaned so close she could smell the scent of Ivory soap.

Josie punched his arm. “How did you guess?”

“I saw Laura talking to folks on her way out of the barn and then you in the dessert line.” Caleb lifted a brownie from the plate. “It didn't take a genius to figure out.”

“Are you pleased, or should I tell her to forget it?” Clucking her tongue, Josie crossed her arms over her apron.

Caleb's dimples deepened. “My heart soars into the stratosphere with just the possibility.”

“That's better.” Josie nibbled the crusty edges of an Apple Betty bar. “Where on earth did you learn to say such things?”

“From an
Englischer
, who else? I heard my friend Pete say that to his fiancée, Michelle.”

“In jest?” She sucked out the apple filling.

“I don't know. Michelle was miffed with him at the time, and it did seem to soften her up.” A cloud seemed to cross Caleb's face that, unlike Pete's, was dark and ominous.

“What's wrong?” she asked. “Aren't my brownies sitting well on your stomach?”

“The brownies are great, but I realized Pete and Michelle are probably married by now. I didn't attend their wedding, or buy a gift, or even send a card. Pete even invited me to be his best man.” Caleb sighed.

“You're feeling sad for not going to an
Englisch
wedding?” Josie licked sticky glaze from her fingers.

“
Jah
, he was my friend, my only friend in Cleveland. Pete helped me through several tough situations.” Caleb cracked his knuckles one by one, his mood deteriorating with each.

“Didn't he have any
bruders
or other friends to be his best man? Considering the situation, I'm sure it should have been another
Englischer
.”

“That's not the point, Josie. Pete only asked
one
favor of me the entire time we knew one another. And I not only didn't stand up for him, I've made no effort to recognize his marriage to Michelle. Even Plain folks give wedding presents.” Caleb sprang to his feet as though too agitated to remain seated.

For some odd reason, Josie felt uncomfortable with Caleb's loyalty. “I'm sure Pete understood that your decision to come home meant returning to Amish ways. And that means cutting your ties to the past. It's what's expected and necessary to focus on a godly life.”

Caleb produced a crooked grin. “If you weren't so pretty, I'd think I was listening to one of
Daed
's Sunday sermons.”

“Mir leid.”
She apologized and forced herself to meet his gaze. “I didn't intend to lecture you, only to say Pete probably wasn't disappointed.”

Caleb rubbed the back of his neck. “But
I'm
disappointed. He and Michelle were important to me. A man doesn't—or shouldn't—forget his friends so easily.”

Josie searched her mind for the right thing to say but came up empty. Few life experiences had prepared her for this debate. “It's not too late to send a gift. Don't we have a year according to
Englisch
rules? Maybe I can make a quilt for the newlyweds with my
mamm'
s and sisters' help. Sarah and Rebekah could help as long as they sit at opposite ends of the table. We might even finish the quilt by midsummer.”

Caleb studied her closely. “You would do that for me?”

“Well,
jah.
We're a courting couple, aren't we? Or at least that's what I was led to believe. I know we haven't announced our engagement and won't until the fall, but I thought we were serious about each other.” The longer she rambled, the more like an idiot she felt.

Pushing away from the tree, Caleb returned to where she sat. He splayed his hands on the table. “How could I spend my life with a woman so shy and uncommunicative? I would never know what you're thinking or what you expected from me.”

Josie huffed out her breath. “Right now, I expect you to eat so we can leave. Then I expect you to choose a roundabout route so we can enjoy a perfect summer night. We have clear skies, plenty of stars, and even a moon to light our way.” She tilted her head back to look up.

Caleb reached for another brownie. “Sounds like a plan. Let's take these desserts for the ride. What if we became hopelessly lost? Without a GPS we could be stranded for days.”

Josie covered the plate with a napkin and brushed crumbs from her skirt. “I don't know anyone Plain who owns a GPS. Standardbreds usually know the country roads better than any gizmo mounted to the windshield.”

As they walked to his buggy, she reached for his rough, callused hand. But during the long, circuitous route home, something other than an occasional mosquito bothered Josie. Each time she inquired about his plans for the future—his plans for
their
future—Caleb sounded vague and confused. His favorite topic of conversation was Pete Taylor, the
Englisch
carpenter. Caleb filled the drive with an endless stream of tales about his life in the city.

Yes, living near Lake Erie with seagulls, sailboats, and flying kites from the bluffs sounded lovely. And yes, she was certain the diversity of food from the area markets and restaurants would be delicious. But frankly, Josie didn't understand what any of this had to do with
them.
Perhaps Caleb needed a chance to vent because he'd missed his friend's wedding.

She just hoped he would lose his fascination with the past before autumn leaves changed to the first lacy flakes of snow.

Eli climbed his porch steps a weary man. Monday, and it already felt like the end of the week. His recent hire, Josiah's nephew, didn't possess the same skills as his son, even though the man tried his best. Caleb had a good eye for rough cuts, seldom wasting more than the barest minimum of lumber. Their new construction project, although free
of labor disputes, offered a fresh set of headaches, including an owner who watched over his shoulder and questioned every decision. At least Eli had no obligations this evening. After supper he planned to relax in his recliner with the Good Book and a cup of honey tea.

“Hello,
fraa
.” Seeing his wife stirring a pot on the stove never failed to lift his spirits. Several gray wisps escaped her bun while her face glowed with the sheen of perspiration.

“
Ach,
I'm glad you're home. You had better see to the milking. Caleb's not home from the Sidleys' yet.”

“Where are my
dochdern
?” He bit back a surge of irritation.

“Rebekah is cleaning the henhouse and gathering eggs, but she must have fallen asleep out there. I haven't seen her in hours. Sarah had to work late for Mrs. Pratt. Now she's in the garden picking lettuce, carrots, and tomatoes for supper. I'll send Katie out to help you.” Elizabeth winked one brown eye.

“She'll have to do.” Eli resettled his hat on his head and fumed all the way to the barn. Even though they owned only three cows, he'd hoped one of his
kinner
would have assumed milking chores. Everyone was always so busy, and Katie helped little because she was afraid of cows. After Katie tried to pet a nursing calf, the annoyed mother had chased her across the pasture. Now she admired new babies from behind the fence.

When Eli returned to the kitchen an hour later supper wasn't ready, despite four Beachy women present and accounted for.

“You're adding too much milk to the mashed potatoes.” Rebekah peered into Sarah's saucepot with a frown. “Turning them into soup won't take the lumps out.”

Sarah lifted up the masher. “Would you like to take over while I fix the salad?” Her sugar-sweet tone fooled no one.

Rebekah pursed her lips. “I had better, or we'll be eating oatmeal that tastes oddly like potatoes.”

Wordlessly, Sarah dropped the utensil into the pot and walked to the sink.

Eli slumped into his chair with a glass of milk to coat his stomach.

“Brown gravy for the meat loaf,
ehemann
? Or will catsup be okay?”

Intent on watching his middle
dochder
attack the spuds with her masher, he didn't answer.

“Eli, do you want brown gravy?” Elizabeth placed her hand on his shoulder.

“Catsup will suffice so we don't
dine
at midnight.”

Elizabeth tugged on his earlobe. “Things only look like chaos. We'll be eating before you know it.”

Katie carried plates and bowls to the table while Sarah placed a bowl of salad in the center, a mound of chopped vegetables covering the lettuce and spinach. Within minutes his
fraa
delivered sliced meat loaf, a bowl of buttered yellow beans, and the resuscitated mashed potatoes.

“At last,” Eli muttered.

But not a half-minute after their prayer, Rebekah delivered her second complaint. “Must you drown the entire salad with Ranch dressing, Sarah? Why can't you let folks add a choice of dressings to their bowls?” Rebekah's nostrils flared like an angry bull's.

“So thoughtless of me,” murmured Sarah. “I forgot that everyone loves Ranch dressing, except for you.”

“Why can't you speak to your
schwester
in a nice way?” Eli glared at Rebekah.

Her complexion flushed brightly. “I guess because of what happened at the singing. Sarah could have saved me a seat next to her, but she called over Laura Yoder.” Rebekah dabbed her salad with a paper napkin before adding Italian dressing.

Eli speared two slices of meat loaf. “Considering you work with Sarah all day, you should welcome time spent with your friends. Especially in light of how you two get along.”

Sarah speared a radish before replying. “James sat down next to Adam on the bench. That's why Rebekah wanted to stick to me like gum on my shoe.”

“If you're trying to fix Laura Yoder up with James, I will pull your hair.”

Eli dropped his knife with a clatter, but Elizabeth was first to
respond. “You will do no such thing, young lady. What has come over you lately?”

Large tears rolled down Rebekah's cheeks. “You only see my retaliation and not when Sarah is unkind to me. She's sly like a fox around the chicken coop.”

Caleb returned from work, washed up in the mudroom, and had entered the kitchen silently. “James has no particular interest in Laura,” he said. “I can assure you, little
schwester
.”

“Sit down, son,” said Elizabeth. “Start eating before the food gets cold.”

Rebekah glared over her shoulder at Caleb. “Are you trying to make up after the stunt you and Josie pulled last night?”

Eli drowned his meat with catsup, attempting to tune out his offspring. “This meat loaf is loaded with onions—just how I like it.” He smiled at his wife as though they were alone in the room.

“What stunt would that be?” Caleb slid into his chair and reached for the salad.

“After Sarah left in Adam's buggy I searched for you, Caleb. But you and Josie had already left.” A hiccup punctuated Rebekah's mournful grievance. “I had to walk home by myself.”

Eli stopped ignoring his
kinner.
“
What
? You walked all that way in the dark?” He glared at his son and daughter in succession. “It's not safe. You could have been hit by a car that doesn't see you in time. And who knows what kind of people prowl country roads these days?”

Caleb leaned back in this chair, his food untouched thus far. “I thought Adam would bring you home, or I would've sent you with Josie's
schwestern.
Or asked James to take you,” he added after a pause.

“You're only saying that after the fact, when it's too late for me to spend time with James.” Tears streamed down Rebekah's face.

Eli waved his fork in the air. “Forget about James for a moment,
dochder.
You're too young to think about courting anyway. Let's focus on the fact your siblings abandoned you.” He swiveled in his chair toward Sarah. “What say you?”

Sarah had paled to a sickly pallor. “I'm truly sorry, Rebekah. I'd
believed you were riding with Caleb.” She turned to face him. “I'm sorry,
Daed
.”

“
Ach
, a matter of miscommunication.” Elizabeth speared several yellow beans. “One that I hope won't be repeated soon.”