by Kelly Long
An old, rusty toolbox sat on Dawdi’s workbench. Titus lifted the top shelf and set it aside. In the bottom of the toolbox was where he kept all the poems he’d written about Katie. He unfolded one and read it while he ate.
Katie’s eyes are brown, her hair is brown too.
I like her a lot, and Adam does too.
It was one of his shorter poems and the rhyme wasn’t very gute, but he’d put a lot of thought into it. Maybe he should show it to Adam.
Adam, I’m thinking of courting Katie at the same time you are courting her. Is that okay with you?
Something told him Adam wouldn’t like that very much. He still called Titus “kid.”
After eating, Titus milked the goats. He found the plip-plop of goat’s milk in the bucket very peaceful. It reminded him of Katie. He wasn’t sure why, unless it was because Titus found Katie’s voice just as soothing. Maybe it wasn’t the sound particularly. Maybe everything reminded him of Katie.
Beth was the mischievous goat who didn’t like to stay still, even during milking. Judy was cuddly and would eat almost anything. Beth was so picky, she picked out the spent barley from the feed corn in her trough. Once he’d milked them both, he tied Beth back up to her post, picked up paper and pencil, and jotted down a poem he’d thought of while milking.
Titus donned his heavy gloves and wrapped his scarf tighter around his neck. From the sound of the wind against the slats of the barn, the snow was still blowing. He hoped he wouldn’t have to put on his snowshoes to make it to the house.
He pushed the barn door open. Another foot of snow had piled up against the outside since he’d been inside. He’d have to shovel again. Katie deserved a clear sidewalk. Pressing his scarf over his face to keep the blowing ice from his eyes and grasping the bucket of goats’ milk in his other hand, he waded through the snow toward the house. Through the blizzard, he saw a dark figure struggling up the hill. Was it Katie? Had she needed to go down the hill for some reason earlier this morning? The figure stumbled and fell into a bank of snow, but quickly stood and kept walking.
Titus set down his pail of milk and ran toward her as fast as he could through the deep snow. He reached out and wrapped his gloved hand around Katie’s arm, just in case she needed someone to steady her. But it wasn’t Katie. Even though she kneaded a lot of bread, she didn’t have arms quite that thick.
“Kid,” Adam Wengerd said. “I’m fine. You can let go. You’re going to give me a bruise.”
“Sorry, Adam. I thought you were Katie.”
Titus couldn’t see the expression under Adam’s scarf, but he sounded irritated. “Do I look like Katie?”
Not in the least, except they both had nice teeth.
Titus followed as Adam slogged through the snow toward the house. “What are you doing here?” Adam said. “You shouldn’t be out in this weather.”
“I milk the goats twice a day.”
“Ach, I forgot.” Adam kept walking. “It picked an inconvenient day to snow. Katie promised to make me breakfast, and I didn’t want to miss out on her French toast, but I shouldn’t have come. I can see her any day.”
If Titus were engaged to Katie, he’d make an excuse to see her every day, even if he had to walk across the North Pole to get to her.
“Jason Pyne drove me to the bottom of the hill on his four-wheeler, but I had to walk the rest of the way. I shouldn’t have come.”
Titus retrieved his bucket of milk and followed Adam up the sidewalk. Another four or five inches of snow had accumulated, but at least it wasn’t a struggle to make it to the porch.
Adam knocked, and Mammi opened the door and ushered them in before her kitchen floor was covered with a drift of snow. “Adam and Titus, how nice to see both of you on such a fearsome day. The snow will be up to the tops of the windows before it’s over.”
Titus set the milk bucket in its usual place by the door and peeled off his gloves and hat and scarf, being careful to stay on the rug so he wouldn’t drip on Mammi’s floor. His boots and coat came off next.
Dawdi sat on the sofa lacing up his boots. For sure and certain, he was getting ready to go out and milk the cow.
Katie stood at the kitchen counter looking very pretty in a drab gray dress with her hair tied up in a just-as-drab scarf. Gray suddenly became Titus’s favorite color. She smiled doubtfully at Titus and then at Adam. “I hope you didn’t have too rough a time coming up the hill.”
“I’m looking forward to that French toast,” Adam said. “A tornado couldn’t have kept me away.”
“What I want to know,” Mammi said, “is who was the Good Samaritan who shoveled our sidewalk this morning. It must have taken at least an hour.”
Adam spread his hands wide and gave Mammi a modest bow. “I didn’t want my sweetheart and her grandparents to be buried in the snow.”
If Titus had been chewing on a toothpick, he would have swallowed it.
Dawdi looked up from his boots and raised his eyebrows until they were nearly on top of his head.
Katie glanced at Titus before turning a smile on Adam. “How very nice.”
Adam made a show of bending over to loosen the laces on his boots. The motion brought him closer to Titus. “You don’t mind, do you, kid? I’m trying to impress Katie.”
Titus frowned. A nice boy like Adam shouldn’t lie to impress a girl, even one as wunderbarr as Katie Rose Gingerich. Hadn’t he ever listened in church?
Adam took off his coat and shook it hard. Droplets of water flew in every direction. He didn’t even seem to notice. He left his boots by the door and sat in one of the kitchen chairs.
Titus hurried into the kitchen and grabbed a towel from the drawer. Getting on his hands and knees, he wiped up the water from Mammi’s wood floor. How could Adam know that Mammi was a little unstable on her feet since her surgery in February? She was sure to slip on a wet floor.
Dawdi tromped across the room and lifted his coat from the hook. “Have you ever had Katie’s French toast, Titus? She puts bananas in it.”
“Titus was just leaving,” Adam said. “Nice to see you again, kid. Tell the goats hello for me.”
Titus didn’t remember telling Adam he had to be somewhere. Did he have to be somewhere? Had he forgotten an important appointment?
Katie’s face fell like a rotten apple from a tree. “Ach, really? I was hoping you would tell me what you think of this recipe. It’s bananas Foster French toast with goat’s milk.”
Adam leaned back in his chair. “Goat’s milk? Why does it always have to be goat’s milk? Doesn’t anybody milk cows anymore?”
Dawdi slid his hat over his head. “I’m going out right now.”
“It sounds wonderful-gute,” Titus said. “But I should be going.” Adam wanted time alone with Katie. Titus couldn’t see that he blamed him. After that lie, Adam must have been desperate.
Mammi’s eyes twinkled as she marched to the door, pressed her back against it, and spread her arms out wide. “I forbid you to leave,” she said, looking as if a team of horses couldn’t budge her. “You’ll get lost in the blizzard.”
Titus’s mouth fell open. He was grateful for a second time that he didn’t have a toothpick between his teeth. Did Mammi really want him to wrestle her? The things his grandparents expected from him!
“Won’t you stay?” Katie said.
The tenderness in her eyes convinced him better than his mammi could. He grinned, pulled a toothpick from his pocket, and stuck it between his lips. “Jah, I will stay.”
Adam was the only person in the room who didn’t seem happy about it. Titus felt bad for hurting Adam’s feelings but not bad enough to leave. After breakfast, he’d write a poem for Adam to make him feel better.
He just needed a gute rhyme for shovel.
CHAPTER 7
Katie lifted the lid of the Dutch oven and dipped her spoon into the sauce. A chasm grew in the pit of her stomach. Ach, du lieva, the sauce was too runny. Fifteen minutes to go, and the sauce was too runny.
/> She couldn’t ruin the venison. She just couldn’t. Adam had proudly brought her almost five pounds of it, and asked her to cook it for his siblings tonight. What would he say if the venison didn’t turn out? Would he be mad or just disappointed? Would he decide he didn’t want to marry her?
Titus leaned his head closer to the stove so he could get a good look at her face. “Are you okay?”
“The sauce is runny,” she said.
He sniffed the air. “It smells wonderful-gute. Venison is just about my favorite food ever.”
Katie grinned. Everything she cooked seemed to be Titus’s favorite food ever. She marveled that he was so easy to please and that he always seemed to make her feel better, no matter how bad things got. When a cake fell or her cookies burned, he would smile at her and tell her things were going to be okay. Sometimes he’d read her a poem or offer to wash the dishes or show her a new trick his goats had learned. Titus never failed to make her smile.
“Do you need help?” Anna said, as she sat at the table and folded napkins. “Tomato paste is a gute thickener.”
Dear, sweet Anna. She would have done anything for Katie, and Katie wouldn’t have hurt her feelings for the world, but she couldn’t let Anna near Adam’s venison. Anna had a gift for making everything she touched taste worse.
With shaking breath, she slid the lid back on the Dutch oven and tried not to panic. She knew how to thicken a sauce. It wasn’t that hard, and she had plenty of time. “Denki, Anna,” Katie said, “but I think I can fix it with a little cornstarch. It should taste just fine.” Though Katie would barely be able to eat, she certainly hoped everyone else would enjoy it.
Anna creased a napkin between her fingers. “I’ve never been able to get the lumps out when I use cornstarch.”
Jah. Only last week, Anna had made gravy with lumps of cornstarch as big as quarters. At least Adam hadn’t eaten with them that night, and Katie didn’t mind the lumps. Anna had made them with lots of love.
Katie spooned a tablespoon of cornstarch into a mason jar. Titus, who seemed to know exactly what she needed more often than she understood, lifted the lid of the Dutch oven for her. She ladled a cup or two of the runny sauce into the mason jar, tightened the lid, and shook it vigorously.
Titus grinned at her again. “You’re the smartest girl I’ve ever seen.”
She felt her cheeks get warm. “Only if this works.”
“It will work. You know everything there is to know about cooking.”
“Almost as much as my Annie-banannie knows,” Felty said. “Annie is the best cook in the whole world.”
“But don’t you think Katie takes a close second?” asked Titus.
Felty set the napkins around the table as Anna folded them. “Jah. I’ve gained five pounds since Katie’s been living with us.”
Katie was too busy concentrating on her sauce to respond, but her lips curled involuntarily. Titus and Felty were two of the kindest men she’d ever met. The girl Titus married would be blessed indeed.
Titus finished stirring the lemon-lime soda into the lemonade mix. “What else can I do to help?”
“Will you light the candles?”
He nodded eagerly, always so happy to do whatever he could.
The guilt that Katie had been smothering all afternoon flared to life. Titus had been there all day helping her get ready for a party he hadn’t been invited to. He’d brought up the extra folding chairs and two table leaves from the cellar and helped Felty set them up. He’d swept and spot-mopped the floor, given Sparky a bath, and stirred fudge for over twenty minutes without a complaint. All the while reciting poetry and singing Christmas songs.
Katie loved Titus’s poems. She could tell he had deep thoughts, like what the moon was made of and why snow was cold. He should have been a professor or something.
Or a schoolteacher.
Katie frowned. Adam was a schoolteacher. He was probably just as smart as Titus. He certainly talked as if he knew everything.
The lines between her eyebrows were no doubt piling on top of themselves. She shouldn’t think such things about her boyfriend. It wasn’t his fault he talked so much. Katie hardly said a word when they were together. He obviously felt the need to fill in the awkward silences. She resolved to say more when Adam came over. He shouldn’t have to be responsible for every conversation, especially when they actually got married. He’d certainly expect her to give her opinion now and then.
Adam hadn’t proposed yet, though everything seemed to be going according to plan. Was he falling in love with her? He seemed to like her cakes and cookies. He’d told her she was pretty.
She stole a glance at Titus out of the corner of her eye. But Adam had never written her a poem.
Anna definitely knew how to set a table. She’d made a centerpiece of three red pillar candles tied together with a ribbon, crocheted of course. A wreath of holly surrounded the candles. Titus pulled the matches out of the drawer and lit the candles. Katie’s heart did a little flip. Adam’s family would love it. At least she hoped they would.
Titus blew out the match just as they heard quick steps outside on the porch. Adam opened the door just wide enough to stick his head into the room. “We’re here,” he said, smiling as if he sat on top of the world. His gaze landed on Titus. “Titus, kid, I don’t mean to be rude, but my brothers and sister are right behind me, and they want to see Katie, not you.”
Katie’s heart sank. Titus hadn’t been invited, but he was the reason Adam’s siblings were getting punch instead of water.
Titus frowned as if he’d done something wrong. “Sorry.” His toothpick drooped between his lips. “I’d never stand in the way of true love.”
“I know you wouldn’t,” Adam said, glancing behind him as if he were under attack and needed to get to safety.
Titus looked at the spent match in his hand as if he didn’t know what to do with it. If he took the time to throw it in the garbage, Adam might get even more annoyed. He squeezed it into his fist.
Hopefully he hadn’t burned himself.
“Titus,” Adam said, with more urgency.
Titus threw one last reassuring smile in Katie’s direction. He was always nice like that. “I’ll go out the back door.”
He was gone before Katie even had a chance to thank him—not that she would have had a chance. Seconds later, Adam’s family swooped into the house. Adam had been very sensitive when Katie acted nervous about inviting his family to dinner. He’d asked his parents to stay home this time.
Adam’s sister, Rebekah, who was twenty years old, came in unenthusiastically. She sort of nodded at Katie before making her way to the sofa, where she plopped down and started petting Sparky. Adam’s three brothers who still lived at home, Zeb, Melvin, and Josiah, shook Felty’s hand with varying degrees of enthusiasm, Zeb being the least enthusiastic, probably because he hadn’t been baptized yet, and he hated it when he had to put his cell phone away to have a conversation.
Katie knew all of them from when she’d lived in Bonduel nine years ago, and she had also spent that hour last week at Adam’s house getting to know his family. They were all wonderful nice, even Adam’s sister. She just hadn’t warmed up to Katie yet. Katie tried to be sympathetic, even though she felt smaller in Rebekah’s presence. Rebekah probably just didn’t like the thought of someone marrying her big brother. It would take some time for her to get used to the idea. Katie would have to make some cookies for her.
Josiah clapped his hands together. “It smells good enough to eat.”
“I hope so,” Adam said, raising his eyebrows in Katie’s direction. He was eager for this meal to go well. He wanted his family to think he’d chosen well. Katie did, too. Her chest tightened. She would hate to embarrass Adam in front of his family.
“Let’s eat, then,” Adam said, not waiting for Anna to invite them to sit.
Katie, Felty, and Anna brought corn, beets, Jell-O salad, and fresh baked rolls to the table. Katie peeked into the Dutch oven before
bringing it over. The sauce had thickened perfectly. That last prayer she’d uttered had worked.
“What is it?” Zeb asked.
“Braised venison with rosemary and shitake mushrooms,” Katie said, trying to keep the anticipation out of her voice. Oy, anyhow. She wanted them to be impressed, even if the desire smacked of pride.
Adam glanced at his brothers with an apology shining in his eyes. “I told her not to get fancy.”
Melvin frowned. “I like pan-fried venison with just a little salt.”
Rebekah cringed. “I hate venison.”
Once they said a silent blessing over the food, Katie dished up venison for everyone but Rebekah and spooned potatoes and sauce over the meat.
Zeb skewered his fork into one of the potatoes. “Did you make any cooked carrots? They’re my favorite.”
The kitchen suddenly felt ten degrees hotter. Adam didn’t like cooked carrots, but she should have thought to throw a few in the Dutch oven for the rest of his family.
It was her first mistake. Lord willing, there wouldn’t be any others.
Once Katie finished serving venison, she sat and poured herself a glass of lemonade punch. She needed something to cool her nerves. What if they didn’t like it?
“This is so tender,” Josiah said. “And what a wonderful-gute flavor.”
Adam’s smile stretched all the way across his face. “Didn’t I tell you?”
“The corn is decent,” Rebekah mumbled. She looked at her plate as if she hoped no one had heard her say it.
Josiah, the brother just younger than Adam, had been the nicest to Katie. When she had gone over last week, Josiah had asked about her family and whether she liked living in Augusta. “It’s really gute, Katie,” he said. “We eat a lot of venison and I’ve never tasted it like this. I don’t think I’ve ever tasted a shitake mushroom.”
Zeb spread a generous amount of huckleberry jelly on his roll. “I’ll have to admit, Adam, when you suggested to Mamm that she write to the Gingeriches about sending Katie to Bonduel, I thought Katie would be a homely, desperate girl who no one in Augusta wanted to marry.”