“Nah. I came to sit with Mammi so Cassie and Dawdi could go to the auction.”
“Don’t let your mammi get into any trouble today,” Dawdi said.
“Oh, get on out of here, Felty,” Mammi said, waving her knitting needles as if she were flagging down a car. “Titus is going to tell me all his hunting adventures, and I am going to teach him how to knit.”
The toothpick slipped from Titus’s lips as his jaw fell open. “You are?”
“Jah, and we’re going to have a wonderful-gute time.”
“Mammi,” Titus whined, “I don’t want to learn how to knit. It isn’t manly. Next thing you know, you’ll have me dressed up in pink shirts like poor Dr. Reynolds.”
Mammi’s eyes sparkled with good humor. “We’ll make blue pot holders. You won’t even have to touch the pink yarn.”
Cassie giggled at Titus’s crestfallen look. He didn’t want to knit, but he would do it for Mammi. He could never refuse his mammi anything.
Zach grinned and laid a hand on Titus’s shoulder. “If it would make you feel better, I’ll come back and knit with you.”
Titus shook his head. “You’re wearing a pink shirt. You probably already know how to knit. You probably crochet pink baby blankets in your spare time.”
Zach chuckled, grabbed his coat, and pulled it over his broad shoulders. “There’s no shame in pink baby blankets.”
Cassie grabbed her coat, but before she could put it on, Zach took it from her and helped her into it. A little butterfly flitted in her stomach. Amish men didn’t know how to be gentlemen. Neither did Englisch men, for that matter. She liked it when anyone displayed even the most basic of manners. “Thank you,” she said, not looking him in the eye, just in case she was blushing again.
They walked outside and stood on the porch while they fastened their coats. Before Cassie could follow Dawdi down the steps, Zach turned to her. “Will you make sure I don’t offend the entire community today?”
“What exactly are you going to do?”
“I might say something offensive without knowing it. Is it acceptable to shake hands with Amish women, or is that considered inappropriate? Should I kiss the bishop’s ring? Will I be shunned for wearing pink?”
She smiled and batted her eyelashes. “Norman will definitely shun you for wearing pink.”
“As long as he doesn’t make me cry.”
The flippant expression on his face made her giggle. “I’ll protect you.”
“Thanks. I don’t want tear stains on my new shirt.”
Cassie caught her breath. “Oh. I almost forgot.” She ran into the house, snatched Zach’s red scarf from her room, and ran back out the front door without a word to Mammi and Titus. Zach was right where she’d left him. “You left your scarf here last Thursday night.”
Leaning close, she looped it over his head, twisted it around itself, and pulled it to fit snugly around his neck. She gave his chest a pat. “There you go. I don’t want you to freeze.”
Only when she raised her head did she realize she was close enough to catch a whiff of his clean, fresh scent and see the kaleidoscope pattern in his shocking blue eyes. He inclined his head to her so that their faces were mere inches apart. His expression was cloudy, guarded so that the only hint she got of what he might be thinking was a barely perceptible twitch of his lips.
She held her breath as the earth seemed to stop spinning. Or maybe it spun faster. Maybe she’d get dizzy if she held his gaze longer.
“I hate to tell you this, but I’m not getting any younger just standing here,” Dawdi called from where he waited by Zach’s car.
The connection between them snapped. Zach laughed as if trying to dispel a tense situation and bounded down the porch steps. “And I’m not getting any fatter. I’m eager to find out what a benefit haystack supper tastes like.”
Slightly dazed, Cassie followed Zach down the steps. He unlocked the car, and Dawdi slid into the backseat. Zach jogged around to the passenger side and opened the door for Cassie.
Before she got in, he gave her a blindingly bright smile and whispered, “No matter what Norman says, pink angels do not go to hell.”
Her heart hammered inside her chest. She would probably never be able to breathe normally again.
Chapter Eight
Zach expected to stick out at the auction. Being tall with an athletic build, he stuck out a lot of places he went. But a tall non-Amish guy with no hat, no suspenders, and a pink shirt was bound to draw attention. He didn’t mind the attention as long as it didn’t make Cassie uncomfortable.
He relaxed when he walked into the warehouse. Several—what had Cassie called them?—Englischers milled about, looking at auction items, mingling with the Amish folks. He wasn’t all that out of place.
They lingered near the double doors and surveyed their surroundings. Four or five space heaters were scattered throughout the warehouse, making the inside feel almost balmy. At least seventy degrees. Zach took off his coat and handed it to an Amish woman who piled it next to dozens of other coats on a table by the door. Tables and benches were crowded into one side of the warehouse while auction items stood at the other end. People milled around the far end of warehouse, looking at things for sale.
“What do you think?” Felty said.
“I’m surprised that the entire place didn’t fall silent when I walked in. Nobody is even staring at me.”
“They will,” Felty said, “as soon as they catch sight of that shirt.”
“Oh, Dawdi,” Cassie said, smiling at Zach. “See? Lots of Englisch come to these things. Nobody thinks twice about it.”
Pots and platters of food sat on three long tables. Amish women served heaping spoonfuls of rice and sauce from the steaming pots. An orderly line formed at the head of the tables where an austere-looking man with a snowy white beard took money. Another man handed out paper plates. Sounds of voices echoed off the high metal ceilings.
“This is all to help pay someone’s medical bills?” Zach asked. How many other communities anywhere in the world would do such a thing to help out a neighbor?
Felty smoothed his beard. “The real big auctions are on Mother’s Day weekend and Labor Day weekend. We do it in a big field and set up big canvas tents. You should see all the quilts for sale.”
Cassie’s eyes shone. “Everybody comes together to help people in need. The men take days off work to help raise a barn or put up a pasture fence. Just last week my brother Luke fixed a leaky roof for one of the shut-ins in Bonduel with Freeman Kiem and Elmer Lee Kanagy.”
“That was nice of them,” Zach said, a little jealous of the admiration evident in Cassie’s expression, especially since she’d mentioned Elmer Lee in the little group of do-gooders.
“Amish men know how to do just about anything, and if they don’t, they learn right quick. They fix cars and machines that they don’t even use. My dat was a farmer, a lumberjack, a schoolteacher, and a carpenter. They’re all so smart.”
Zach folded his arms across his chest. What did he care if Cassie admired all the stuff Amish men could do? Most guys couldn’t dream of making it through biochemistry or gross anatomy, let alone medical school. Elmer Lee probably didn’t know how to give someone a shot.
“Cassie, there you are.”
Zach looked around. It was hard to tell where the shrill sound came from, but pretty easy to guess that the woman marching resolutely toward them owned the piercing voice.
The woman was thin but of a solid build, standing an inch or so taller than Cassie. The wrinkles lining her forehead and lips made it look as if she’d spent years frowning. Her salt-and-pepper gray hair peeked out from under her white Amish kapp and looked coarse enough to be wire instead of hair. Was she one of Cassie’s relatives?
One thing was certain. From the way she marched through the crowd, brushing any and all obstacles aside, this woman was accustomed to being in charge. And if looks proved true, she was also used to getting exactly what she wanted when she wanted
it and wouldn’t put up with any opposition whatsoever.
He glanced at Cassie, who although uncertain, also acted genuinely happy to see this woman.
The woman stopped a few feet from Cassie, propped her hands on her hips, and looked Cassie up and down as if doing an inspection. “You should have told me you didn’t have shoes, and I would have let you borrow a pair of mine.”
“I didn’t think about shoes. I’m sorry,” Cassie said. She bowed her head slightly and tried to look contrite. Zach sensed that Cassie had learned how best to appease this woman. Arguments unlikely ever changed her opinion.
He peered at Cassie’s shoes. Plain black with a silver buckle on top. Cute but nothing fancy. What did this woman not like about them?
The woman sighed in exasperation. “But the dress is nice. Pink suits you.”
“Thank you.”
“And hardly nobody will be able to tell your hair is so short under the kapp. I did good stitching on it.”
“Mamm,” Cassie said, gesturing to Zach. “This is Dr. Reynolds. Doctor, this is my mother, Esther Coblenz.”
Her mother? The woman looked old enough to be Cassie’s grandmother. And grumpy enough to be an Army drill sergeant. He could see it now, though. Esther had Felty’s eyes.
“It’s very nice to meet you,” Zach said. Should he offer his hand? He’d never gotten that Amish protocol lesson from Cassie.
Cassie’s mother seemed to notice Zach for the first time and turned all her attention to him, like pit bull ready to attack. “Who is this boy, Cassie? Why is he here? Elmer Lee is coming.”
Zach tensed his jaw. Titus had warned him that Elmer Lee would be here. Why should the mere mention of his name make Zach so edgy?
“Mamm,” Cassie said in a voice of perfect mildness, “Dr. Reynolds is the doctor who operated on Mammi’s foot. He wanted to see an Amish auction.”
Felty must have felt the need to intervene. “It’s always gute to see you, daughter,” he said to Esther. “A good turnout for the supper today.”
Esther ignored her father, pinched her lips together, and gave Zach a once-over, making no attempt to hide her hostility. “You shouldn’t have worn pink. You two look like a couple.”
“We’re not a couple, Mamm.”
Esther pointed an accusing finger in Zach’s face. “He wants to be.”
Whoa. Cassie’s mother could tell that just by looking? Maybe. The impulse was pretty strong on his side.
“Mamm,” Cassie said. “He’s Mammi’s doctor. We are very grateful that he’s taking care of Mammi.”
Esther narrowed her eyes and frowned. She seemed to dislike the very idea of Dr. Zach Reynolds.
“The risk of living among the Englisch is that you soon become like them,” Esther said. “They lead you into all sorts of wickedness.”
Cassie bowed her head again, that submissive posture that she must have hoped would appease her mother. It made her look even more like an angel than ever. Wow, but she was beautiful. But he didn’t necessarily like the whole submission thing.
“He is a great comfort to Mammi, to all of us,” Cassie said.
Zach’s chest swelled with tenderness. Even though Cassie was trying to placate her mother, her words were sincere. Maybe she didn’t despise him as much as she used to. Maybe she didn’t mind him hanging around so much. He hoped not, because he was dead set on hanging around.
Felty stepped in front of Zach and hooked his arm around Esther’s. “Help your old fater get some supper, will you, Esther? I don’t think I can do it by myself.”
“Oh, Dat,” Esther said, softening up a little. “You don’t need help. You skip around town like you was seventy years old yet.”
“It wonders me why I need a reason to want to eat supper with my daughter.”
Esther grunted in disapproval. Or maybe it was a grunt of approval. She slid her hand over Felty’s. “Let’s go eat, then.”
She turned to Cassie even as Felty tried to tug her away. “Promise me you’ll talk to Elmer Lee.” When Cassie looked as if she would protest, Esther said, “I went to all the trouble to make you a pink dress. It’s the least you can do for your mother.”
“He won’t want to—” Cassie said weakly.
“I need a promise, Cassie.”
Cassie laced her fingers together and shuffled her feet. “I promise.”
Zach hadn’t ever heard anyone say anything with less enthusiasm. He wanted to gather her in his arms and kiss those lips into a smile, almost as badly as he wanted to give Cassie’s mamm a set-down she’d never forget. He’d known her for two minutes, and she already had his blood boiling like a steaming pot of McDonald’s coffee. But he knew that calling out Cassie’s mother in the middle of Amish country during a festive Amish event would be a big mistake. He closed his mouth and bit down hard on his tongue.
Esther glared at Zach one last time—probably needing to fill some sort of quota. “Don’t ever wear that pink shirt again.”
She turned and walked away, leaving Zach quite speechless. Had she really just ordered him not to wear this shirt?
Cassie looked as if she wanted to crawl into a very small hole. “Dr. Reynolds, I’m . . . I’m so sorry. My mamm . . .”
His anger evaporated, and he wiped his hand over his mouth to suppress a smile. She stared at him, eyes round with curiosity. Despite his best efforts, the smile escaped and then the laughter bubbled up inside him like a volcano about to explode. He struggled to subdue his mirth, so as not to draw attention to himself, but it was no use. He had to get out of there.
Not wanting to leave Cassie guessing, he grabbed her hand and tugged her around three or four people standing by the side door and outside into the below-freezing temperatures.
“Doctor, what are you—”
No sooner had they stepped outside than he let go of her hand and burst into great belly laughs that shook his whole body and left him panting for air.
Cassie wrapped her arms around herself to ward off the chill, and her eyebrows seemed to fly off her face. “You’re not mad?”
“Shocked,” he said.
“That wasn’t funny,” she said, a smile already well in progress on her face.
“I get the feeling she doesn’t like me.”
Cassie pressed her fingers to her lips to push the smile away. “My mamm isn’t known for her tact.”
“This shirt really was a terrible idea. I should know better than to trust GQ. They said pink was in this year.”
“I’m just glad you aren’t angry. My mamm has high hopes that Elmer Lee will fall head over heels in love with me the minute he sees me in this pink dress.”
“It wouldn’t matter if you were wearing a burlap sack. Seven or eight guys are going to fall in love with you today. You’re that pretty.”
The tinge of cherry-blossom pink on her cheeks proved incredibly attractive. “Don’t tease me. No one is even going to look twice.”
“They’re all going to look at least twice.”
She laughed. “You are incorrigible.”
He couldn’t resist slipping his hand into hers. Her cheeks got pinker, but she didn’t pull away. He savored every moment of her feather-soft touch. It couldn’t last much longer. Not only was she turning redder by the minute, but it was truly frigid out here. “What I really want to know,” he said, “is what you think of my shirt. Because if you’re embarrassed, I’ll put my coat back on and keep it zipped tightly around my chin.”
How red could those cheeks get? “To be honest . . . I think you look amazing.”
Her compliment made his heart beat double-time. “In that case, I’m tempted to never take it off.”
She laughed. “You’d stink after a while.”
“Probably. Will you still like me when I smell like a dead animal rotting along the side of the road?”
“I would still like you, but from a great distance.”
“So you admit you like me?”
Her lips quirked upward, and she pretended t
o think about it. She still hadn’t pulled her hand from his. “Well, you’re very good to my mammi.”
“That’s something.”
“And we have matching red scarves and matching silver cars and matching pink outfits. I suppose I like you well enough.”
He’d be smiling for a whole month. “I can work with that.”
She let go of his hand and opened the side door. “Whatever you want to work out, let’s do it inside. It’s wonderful cold out here.”
“I’ll follow you anywhere,” he said, with an eager twist of his lips.
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t follow too close. I’d rather not be seen with a guy in a pink shirt.”
He laughed and walked with her into the warmth of the sturdy warehouse.
Chapter Nine
With his hands in his pockets and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, Zach strolled around the perimeter of the warehouse, watching people and waiting for the auction to begin.
Cassie had sat across from him at supper, which suited Zach just fine. It had given him an opportunity to stare at her without being too obvious that he was staring at her. Pink was fast becoming his favorite color. Cassie made it look so feminine and appealing. His fingers had practically itched to reach across the table and caress her cheek, but he had fought the urge by clutching his fork in one hand and his knife in the other. He’d broken four plastic forks that way. Cassie had gone to the serving table and brought him back a whole pile of forks as a precaution. She’d told him she didn’t want him to starve for the lack of a fork.
Amish haystacks turned out to be rice topped with chicken and a white gravy-type sauce plus a variety of toppings like lettuce, tomatoes, chili, olives, and corn chips—just about anything Zach’s heart could desire. He could get used to this down-home Amish cooking.
After supper Zach had offered to help with the cleanup, but the old Amish ladies looked at him as if he were a bright pink alien from another planet. He’d helped set up benches and folding chairs for the auction and then strolled amongst the items for sale with Cassie. He would have stayed glued to Cassie’s side all evening, but he realized early on that his presence made her Amish neighbors suspicious of both him and Cassie. He saw that she’d do much better reconnecting with old friends if some Englisch guy in a matching pink shirt wasn’t her constant companion.
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