by Sarah Price
Once she was situated, John stepped off the foot brake and slapped the reins onto the horse’s back. The wagon lurched forward, and Catherine fell against John’s arm.
“How do you like my new horse and wagon?” he asked, already forgetting about Noah Bontrager and his request for Catherine to tell him about her opinion of him. “I just bought them this week.”
Catherine let her hand remain on the metal bar that acted as an arm rest. The wagon jostled as he drove the horse toward the barn frolic. “It … it’s lovely.”
“Lovely?” He spat the word out as if it was an insult. “Lovely? I’ll have you know, Catherine, that this horse comes from one of the best horse breeders in this area. I had to pay twice the sum that normal boys pay for a new horse. Mayhaps even thrice!”
For the briefest of moments, Catherine shut her eyes. With her face directed toward the road, she doubted that John had witnessed her silent rebellion against his prideful remark.
“And this wagon?” He glanced at her and grinned. “It’s just the latest model that Aaron Wheeler is making!”
Catherine had no idea who Aaron Wheeler was, but she wasn’t about to admit that.
“He made this one just for me, he did! Based on my own design.” John glanced at her as if waiting for her reaction. When none came, he added, “It’s extra-long, ja? Good for hauling things as well as people!”
Pretending to be interested, Catherine glanced over her shoulder. To her surprise, it was longer than most other wagons used by the Amish in her community. In the section behind where Ida Mae and James sat, she could see that John had several buckets and two tool boxes. “So it is, I reckon,” she commented as she redirected her attention to the road ahead.
“Figured it was worth spending the extra money.” He paused, his hands handling the reins with ease while he looked at her. “Better to spend more now and have it done right the first time around!”
His bravado was wearing thin on Catherine, so she merely looked up at a nearby tree limb and commented on a bird that she saw, hoping to distract John from more discussion about his spending and acquisitions. While his manners were clearly less than what she’d normally stand for, he was Ida Mae’s brother, and if for no other reason, that forced her to give him more respect than she would otherwise.
When they pulled up the lane to the Troyers’ farm, John quickly drove his buggy alongside the barn and gestured toward one of the younger boys who were managing the horses. “Here now! You!” he called out as he stepped down to the ground. “Make certain to unharness my horse and wash him down, ja? And put the harness in the back of my wagon so it doesn’t get lost or mixed up with another.”
He didn’t wait for a response before he turned his attention to Catherine. He held out his hand for her to take, making her exit from the wagon easier. When she managed to stand beside him, she noticed that he hesitated before releasing her hand. In that single moment, she raised her eyes to look at him and noticed that he, too, was watching her.
“Perhaps you might permit me to drive you back home afterward?” he asked in a low voice.
“Oh, that would be right gut!” The thought of walking all that way to the lake after a long day of working in the sun did not entice her, and she could only beam at John for his thoughtfulness. Perhaps, she reconsidered, he was not such a bad sort after all.
They walked toward the farmhouse and parted company, the men heading toward the area where the pile of lumber and other men stood, while Ida Mae guided Catherine toward the house. They crossed the plain cement patio and were just about to open the screen door when Ida Mae paused and looked back toward the gathering of men.
“What is it?” Catherine asked.
She turned back toward her friend and smiled, shrugging her shoulders in a dismissive way. “I just think it’s rather nice how your bruder came all this way to help my uncle.”
“He’s a good sort, for sure and certain,” Catherine replied. Although from the look on Ida Mae’s face, she suspected that she wasn’t disclosing any new information.
“He’s your oldest bruder, ja?”
Catherine reached for the handle of the screen door and opened it. “Ja, the oldest. And set on being a farmer. Like my daed.”
For a moment, Ida Mae seemed to contemplate this as she followed Catherine into the house. But she asked no further questions about James.
Inside the kitchen, the other women were already busy at work. In no time at all, both Ida Mae and Catherine were tasked with various assignments: setting up the tables for the noon meal, taking pitchers of water to the men, minding the smaller children who played outside. There was always something to do, and time, as always, seemed to fly.
By the time Catherine thought to look up and observe the progress of the men, she was surprised to see that all four walls of the barn were already in place. Many of the younger men were busy nailing down the floor to the hayloft while the older ones were focused on the roof.
Ida Mae stopped short. Her arms were full of the plates that she had been instructed to set upon the table. “What is it?” she asked, but her gaze followed Catherine’s and she caught her breath. “Oh!”
The structure was just a skeleton, the frame an outline in fresh, creamy lumber, but oh, what a sight it was! The men that crawled atop it, their white shirts and straw hats contrasting with their dark pants, almost looked like ants from where the two women stood. The feat of raising a barn was admirable, but so was the fact that the entire community had joined together to help the Troyer family.
It was a spectacular reminder of how wonderful their lives truly were.
One of the older Troyer women exited the kitchen door and walked the length of the porch to where the large bell hung above the roofline. She reached for the thick rope that hung from it and tugged … once, twice. The bell rang out. From the paddocks behind the house, the shouts of the children could be heard as they ran toward the area where the tables were set up and waiting for them. The men began to descend from the barn, many of them wiping the sweat off their brows and almost all of them wearing smiles on their faces.
“Ah! Look at this!” Duane said as he approached the table. “Enough food to replenish our energy for the afternoon, ja?” He laughed at his own comment, but the two men walking beside him smiled and nodded.
After the men were seated, the women standing at the ready behind them, they took a moment to bow their heads and give silent thanks to God for the plentiful and nourishing food that he had seen fit to provide for them. And then, the prayer over, the conversation started again, this time even more animated than before, with the occasional burst of laughter. The women hovered nearby, quick to refill water cups or replenish any empty platters of food.
Catherine stood behind a row of young men, hardly paying attention when someone called out for water. She snapped out of her daydream and hurried over to the man.
“Make a fellow wait for water?” a teasing voice said.
She blinked and stared at the pleasant face that smiled at her. It took her a minute to realize that she was standing by Henry Tilman’s side. “Henry!” she exclaimed, a blush covering her cheeks right away when she realized that several people had heard her and were turning their heads and their attention to her.
“It is I, indeed, Catherine,” he said in a playful tone. “Or, at least, it was when I last checked!”
She took his cup and refilled it. Slowly. “I presumed you had left Banthe when I didn’t see you at church.”
His eyes darted to observe the slow manner in which she poured his water. A smile teased his lips. “I had an out-of-town errand,” he said, returning his eyes to look at her.
“Oh?” Her hands trembled. Certainly, he had gone to church in another district, perhaps to visit with a young woman who had captured his attention. She felt a wave of disappointment wash over her, for she hadn’t thought before now that he might already be courting someone.
Henry glanced behind her and his smile broadened. �
�And there is my errand now.” He motioned with his hand, and Catherine turned to look in that direction.
A young woman, no more than three years older than she, approached them. She was tall, willowy, and with pretty green eyes that stared at Henry first and then turned to Catherine. When she smiled, her face lit up, and several other young Amish men took notice.
“Here you are!” she said in a sing-song like voice.
Catherine felt as if her heart deflated.
“Have you been looking for me then?” Henry asked. “Well, if so, you must not have looked too hard.” He glanced toward the barn structure.
“You tease so!” the woman laughed. Then she turned her attention toward Catherine again. “Are you going to introduce me, Henry? Or shall I just stand here in suspense, waiting for you to show your manners?”
“Of course, Ellie.” He cleared his throat and let his eyes fall upon Catherine once again.
By this time, the color had drained from her face, and she wished for nothing more than to scurry away and hide herself in the kitchen behind a tower of dirty plates and bowls.
“Catherine, I would like to introduce you to Ellie,” he said, dragging out each word much in the same manner that she had drawn out pouring his water. “Ellie is my only sister.”
At the word sister, Catherine frowned for just a moment. She digested the word, repeating it in her mind as if to convince herself that that was, indeed, what he had said. When she realized that she had not misunderstood him, she broke into a warm, friendly grin and reached to shake Ellie’s hand.
“Such a pleasure to meet you.” And she meant it with all sincerity.
Ellie tried to hide a coy smirk as she shifted her gaze from Catherine to Henry and then back to Catherine. “Likewise.”
Henry glanced toward his empty plate of food and coughed into his hand. “I reckon I best get some food before it’s all gone,” he said. “Perhaps, however, you might arrange to go walking tomorrow, Ellie, with Catherine. I know a particularly nice path from town toward the far side of the lake.”
No sooner had he said that than he returned his attention to the table and platters of food that had passed by him. Ellie, however, quickly concurred with Henry that a nice walk around the lake would be the best of activities in the late morning.
Catherine could hardly believe her good fortune. Not only had Henry returned to Banthe, but his sister appeared to be particularly lovely and amiable to a friendship.
Chapter 8
“Kum, Catherine! Don’t be such a goose!”
Catherine stood on one side of the kitchen table with John, James, and Ida Mae standing on the other. She had been sitting with Duane and Wilma while she read her book when the trio arrived at the lake cottage. She hadn’t been expecting them and was surprised when they asked her to go for a carriage ride around the lake. Duane and Wilma quietly excused themselves, leaving the four young people alone to discuss their plans.
Catherine, however, had no desire to go riding around the lake. At least not today when she already had plans. But Ida Mae insisted.
“I don’t want to go for a drive around the lake,” Catherine replied, politeness escaping her voice. She wasn’t used to confrontational situations, but she was beginning to feel as if the three of them were ganging up on her. Their persistence was grating on her nerves. Even though it wasn’t any of their business, she finally added, “Besides, I already have a commitment with Ellie Tilman. She asked me to go walking this morning.”
John removed his straw hat and ran his fingers through his unruly, and very unevenly cut, hair. “The Tilmans?” He said the name as if he were spitting.
Catherine lifted her chin. “Ellie and Henry Tilman, to be exact.”
“Well, don’t that beat all!” John chuckled under his breath. He shook his head and clicked his tongue three times, reminding Catherine of one of the elderly women in her own church district.
Feeling affronted by his reaction, Catherine scowled. “And I promised to go with them. How would that make me look if I wasn’t here when they showed up?”
John slapped his straw hat against his thigh and turned his head so that she couldn’t see his expression. Ida Mae pouted, the expression of disappointment unmistakable on her face. Even James looked downtrodden.
“The Tilmans, you say?” John turned back toward Catherine, his eyes sparkling as if he was enjoying this discussion. “Seems you have yourself a bit of a problem there.”
She cringed and braced herself as she asked, “And how is that, John?”
He leaned forward and stared directly into her eyes. She had never noticed how his eyes were a light gray-green color that looked like the edge of the lake water. A bit murky and not necessarily very becoming. “Why, Catherine, I saw them not even twenty minutes ago, driving their two-seater through town the opposite way of the lake. From the looks of how they were dressed, they were going on a visit somewhere.”
Catherine caught her breath and tightened her shoulders. She could hardly believe John’s words. “Why on earth would they do that?”
Casually, he shrugged. “Mayhaps they forgot or something came up.”
“They wouldn’t do that!” she gasped. How disappointing! She had been looking forward to spending time with Henry and Ellie. Crestfallen, she sank down onto one of the kitchen chairs.
“Just goes to show you what type of friends they are,” John quipped as he slid his hat back on his head and pushed his hands into his front pockets. “And you were worried about your reputation?”
Catherine scowled and glared at him.
Ignoring her brother’s snarky comment, Ida Mae bounced on the balls of her feet as she clapped her hands together. “Wunderbarr! Then you can come with us!” She sounded like a schoolgirl. “What fun would it be to drive around the lake without you, Catherine? You simply must join us. What else will you do? Sit home all day?”
But she wasn’t convinced yet.
One glance out of the front windows confirmed that it was a gorgeous day. The azure blue sky was crisp and clean; only a few scattered white clouds gently dabbed against the otherwise pristine backdrop to a perfect summer day. Perhaps Ida Mae had a point, Catherine thought to herself. If John had, indeed, seen the Tilmans driving away from town, it would do her no good to sit inside all day, pining for Henry when, clearly, he had forgotten about his request for his sister to arrange a walk with her.
“Please, Catherine?” James gave her a pleading look. He glanced at Ida Mae and mouthed the word please one more time.
With a sigh, Catherine finally nodded and reluctantly acquiesced. For her brother’s sake as well as Ida Mae’s, she would go with them. “I suppose you’re right. If Henry and Ellie went for a drive already …”
Not even half an hour later, Catherine found herself sitting next to John in the front of a two-seater open carriage. She had argued at first that it wouldn’t be proper and why couldn’t they all ride in James’s carriage. But John insisted for he drove his new horse, a beautiful chestnut Standardbred, and made certain to remind her repeatedly about how expensive the horse was. Behind her, in another carriage, Ida Mae sat beside James, neither one of them at a loss for words or smiles. Miserably, Catherine sat beside John, regretting her decision to accompany them.
“Now look over there, Cathy!” John said, pointing toward a low tree branch that hung over the road. “Just through the trees you can see the water’s edge.”
She scowled at his use of a far too familiar nickname—and one she wasn’t partial to! No one had ever called her that before, and she didn’t care for it one bit.
John, however, didn’t seem to notice. Instead, he pointed toward the lake that could barely be seen through the trees. “We’ll be on the other side of the lake, and just wait until you see the view from that ridge up there!”
Catherine squinted, barely able to see the shimmering water through the branches.
“It’s beautiful, once we move beyond the town proper!” He slapped the rei
ns against the back of the horse and made a clicking noise with his tongue. “Gid up!”
The horse tossed its head and picked up the pace, the carriage jostling so that Catherine had to hang onto the little iron railing that kept her from falling out. In the process, she pressed against John and he laughed.
No sooner had the town come into sight than Catherine noticed the man and woman walking down the road toward them: Henry and Ellie. From the looks of it, they were headed toward the house where the Andersons stayed.
“Oh!” She gasped and quickly turned around, too aware that they were staring at her as she rode past them in the open buggy next to John Troyer. “Oh, John! Stop the carriage!” She grabbed his arm. “Please! There are the Tilmans!”
But John did the opposite of her request. Instead of slowing down, he let the reins go slack and the horse ran even faster. “Whoa!” he cried out, but did nothing to actually slow the horse.
“John! I insist!” Bewildered, she sat on her knees, peering after the disappearing figures. She turned to glare at John. “Stop right now or I’ll jump out!”
By this point, the horse was going far too fast, and even if he had tried, John couldn’t have stopped it. Catherine had no choice but to swing around, grab his arm, and hold on. She knew that several people walking through town must have seen the spectacle of the runaway horse, the man, and the woman. Without doubt, rumors would fly, and Catherine felt as if her heart sank to her stomach. Without any intention of doing so, she had most certainly just created the very thing she had hoped to avoid: gossip.
By the time John was finally able to slow the horse, they had traveled too far away from the town for Catherine to disembark and make her way toward the Tilmans.
Distressed, she crossed her arms over her chest and pouted. “Why did you tell me they were gone?” Her anger was so great that she could barely even look at him. No one had ever deceived her in such a manner! In hindsight, she realized that she never should have trusted him in the first place. Once a liar, always a liar.