Kate’s Song

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Kate’s Song Page 7

by Jennifer Beckstrand


  No matter what Aaron or Ada or anyone else believed about her motives, she yearned to know the mind of Heavenly Father concerning her life. When she peeled away the layers of her choices, His will lay at the heart of it all. She would do anything God asked of her. That intense yearning was the reason Nathaniel said she would surely get an answer. “‘If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God, that giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not, and it shall be given him,’” he had repeated to her on more than one occasion.

  Running her hand over a charming pink-and-purple quilt on one of the tables, Kate decided it would be the perfect pattern. Not too difficult but quite beautiful. She lifted it from the pile and found a place to sit on a small wooden chair tucked between two rows of plump quilts. The pattern was a series of butterflies cleverly sewn from a combination of squares and triangles. Kate smiled. She could stitch straight lines with proficiency. Matching corners was another story, but Anna could see to those details.

  “Titus put my sewing machine into good shape again. Gute thing, because the girls need new school dresses for the fall.”

  Two ladies—Kate couldn’t tell whom—wandered down the row behind her. She listened to their friendly chatter as she drew the butterfly pattern into her notebook. She didn’t really pay attention to what they said until she heard her name.

  “Our church is at Weavers’, Lord willing. They have a nice big room for it.”

  “Weavers’? Have you seen Kate Weaver since her return? They say she had a time of it in Milwaukee. Someone beat her up.”

  Kate held her breath and clutched her hands together to keep from trembling.

  “Oh, Lisa, she looked something terrible. And she is such a pretty girl too. Her dat was fit to be tied.”

  “Seeing as how he probably bears the guilt of it. He should have put his foot down when she wanted to go off to that academy,” said Lisa. “My Adam never would have stood for it.”

  “What choice did Solomon have? He could not very well lock her in the house if she set her heart on going. Oh, look at this one. A double wedding ring.”

  Kate slunk down in her chair for fear of being seen.

  “That girl always had a rebellious spirit, Diann. Even in primary school I could see it—wanted to show off her talent and put herself above others simply because she could sing. Too vain for her own good.”

  Kate bit her lip as a growing ache throbbed in her chest.

  “She was proud of her talent.” A quilt swished close to Kate’s head. “But is there one among us who has not been guilty of pride? Kate is young. She will learn.”

  “I reckon she learned plenty at that academy,” Lisa said. “Ada told me she came back worldly and headstrong.” She lowered her voice. “Her dat must stiffen his spine and do what needs to be done to rein her in.”

  “Poor Emma, to have such a daughter.”

  “Miriam says the girl loves the world too much to be content with the Plain life. It is better that she leave us than stay and influence the young people.”

  Kate realized whom she was overhearing. Miriam was Nathaniel King’s mother, and Lisa Fisher was Miriam’s sister.

  “But has anyone tried to help her? Bring her back to the love of Christ?” Diann said.

  “It would do no good to try,” Lisa said. “She has already dug her hole deep enough. Unfortunately, my nephew has caught her eye, but we pray that will come to nothing. All Miriam can hope is that Kate will stay away from him.”

  Kate held her breath as she heard the two women move away. She had to flee before the sob that wanted to escape her lips gave her away. She slung the butterfly quilt over the chair and bolted for the door, making sure to keep her head low so that no one would catch a glimpse of her face before she managed to make her exit.

  How could people say such things about her parents—two of the kindest, most charitable people in the world? Kate had never known Dat to raise his voice in anger or to rule his children with force or fear. His hurt was tangible when Kate left home for the academy, but he had never upbraided or pressured her. He gave her wings in hopes that she would fly back to him of her own accord.

  My dat is five times the father of any man in this community, she wanted to scream. They should be ashamed to speak of him so.

  Kate hurried outside and ducked into the narrow alley between buildings before tears soaked her cheeks and the hurt bubbled over into loud sobs from her lips. Did everyone talk about her like this, clicking their tongues and shaking their heads in resignation, as if Kate were some lost cause beyond help or redemption? Did they all wish, like Miriam, that Kate would go back to Milwaukee and leave them alone, never again to disturb their peace?

  She leaned her back against the side of the shop and let her head fall back until it rested on the wall behind her. Would her absence be the best thing for everyone? Would anyone miss her if she were gone?

  A soft voice intruded into her thoughts. “In that position, your tears run straight into your ears. Then your hearing gets all sloshy.” The words were teasing, playful, but when Nathaniel King said them, they felt like a caress against her skin.

  She stood up straight and quickly wiped away any evidence that she had been crying. A futile gesture, since he had already seen her, but one that made her feel more presentable.

  He came to her and laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. Eyes brimming with concern, he studied her face. He lifted his hand, hesitated for a moment, then took his thumb and wiped a single tear from her cheek. “Oh, Kate,” was all he said.

  The compassion in his voice ambushed her and the tears flowed anew, unchecked down her cheeks. Maybe there was one person in Apple Lake who would miss her if she were gone.

  “Quilt shops aren’t usually a touching experience for me,” he said, “but take me into a lumberyard among the two-by-fours and freshly cut planks and I weep like a baby. The new wood smell always gets me right here.” He tapped his chest with his fist.

  Kate laughed through her tears. “I think it was the bear-claw pattern on that quilt hanging in the window that inspired me. I could never look at a burgundy red without having a deeply emotional experience.”

  “Here,” Nathaniel said, putting his hand into his pocket. He pulled out a crisp white handkerchief and handed it to Kate. “I carry this with me wherever I go.”

  “It comes in handy,” Kate said, sniffing and mopping up the moisture from her face.

  “And not just for wiping faces. You can use it for a bandage and tourniquet if you cut off your finger with a circular saw. Or if you stuff one end of it into your hat, it hangs down to prevent sunburn.” He motioned with his hands how to stuff it into a hat. “And if you are an old lady, you can use it to wave to people who are leaving on trips. My grandmammi wouldn’t be caught dead waving at someone without her hanky. She insisted on the handkerchief method. I think it used to be one of the original Confessions of Faith.”

  “You truly need nothing else in your pocket to be perfectly happy,” Kate said, feeling steadily better.

  Grinning, Nathaniel stuck his hand into his pocket again. “Well, not entirely true.” He withdrew his fist and showed Kate. “Without fail, I carry four things in this pocket. The handkerchief, in case I encounter a pretty girl crying in the street; breath mints, in case I want to talk to that pretty girl; a pocketknife, because I might want to clean my fingernails; and my travel-sized measuring tape, because you never know when you’re going to want to measure something.”

  “Like the quilts in Martha’s shop,” Kate said.

  “Or the wheels on that buggy over there,” Nathaniel said, pointing in the direction of the street.

  “Or how big that tree is.”

  Nathaniel nodded. “Or how big my neck is. That always impresses the girls.”

  Giggling, Kate wadded the handkerchief in her fist and leaned against the wall. “And how many girls have asked to measure your neck?”

  “Ach, too many to count.”

  Nathaniel leaned closer t
o Kate and placed his hand on the wall twelve inches above her head. His smile, which had faded when he first encountered her, returned with full force, sending Kate’s senses reeling. “I love it when you laugh,” he said.

  Suddenly shy, Kate lowered her eyes. “Nathaniel King, do not embarrass me.”

  They both heard someone clear her throat and looked up to see Nathaniel’s aunt Lisa and another woman staring at them.

  Kate stiffened.

  Nathaniel immediately removed his hand from the wall but kept the dazzling smile constant on his lips. “Hello, Aunt Lisa, Diann. Do you know Kate Weaver?”

  Lisa glanced at Kate then back at Nathaniel. “A single man who has been baptized, such as yourself, must watch himself carefully. You cannot flit about the town doing whatever you want, seeing whoever you want.”

  Nathaniel seemed genuinely puzzled at such an onslaught, but his smile stayed put. “Denki, I will live by that advice.”

  “Gute,” said Lisa. “Now you can walk me home.”

  When Nathaniel hesitated, she said, “Cum, cum. I need your arm to support me.”

  “But Lisa,” said Diann, “we came in your buggy.”

  Lisa shot Diann a look. “I can fetch it later.”

  Diann squinted her eyes and wrinkled her nose. “Now that is plain silly.” She nudged Lisa with an elbow. “Leave your nephew to his private conversation and drive us home. I’ve got laundry yet to look after.”

  Lisa relented. “Very well,” she said. She peered at Nathaniel, obviously trying to sear a hole into his forehead. “Mark my words.” She shook her finger at him. “Mark my words.”

  Both women continued down the street and were soon out of sight.

  Nathaniel held out his hand. “Could I borrow that hanky?”

  Kate handed him the slightly damp piece of cloth.

  He waved the handkerchief in the air like a flag. “I surrender, Aunt Lisa. I surrender.” Smiling at Kate, he folded the handkerchief and put it back in his pocket. “Very gute. We have found a new use for the handkerchief. Oh, wait. Do you still need it?”

  “Nae,” Kate said. “Unless you want to take me into a grocery store. Lettuce always makes me teary.”

  “I will not take you to any distressing places,” Nathaniel said. “But would you care for a short outing to my farm? It is only a fifteen-minute walk across the fields.”

  The thought of an encounter with Nathaniel’s mamm coupled with the memory of all she’d heard in the quilt shop stomped on her momentary happiness and, try as she might, she found it impossible to hold back new tears.

  Nathaniel’s troubled expression reemerged. “I hate to see you like this.” He softly brushed another tear from her face. “Tell me what I can do.”

  “Ach, it is nothing. A long walk will do me very much gute, I think.”

  “And you can water the fields as we go. The farmers will be grateful.” He grinned and winked at her. “There is the smile I’ve been so eager for.”

  Kate sniffed. “Do you think we could avoid seeing your mamm today? I look like I’ve been crying.”

  Nathaniel nodded thoughtfully. “We don’t have to go into the house. I want to show you something in the barn.”

  “Absolutely not, Nathaniel King. Every time you say you want to show me something, you give me a gift. I will not stand for it,” she said, smiling to herself at his crestfallen expression.

  He spread his hands to show he had nothing to hide. “Why are you so suspicious?”

  “Because I know you too well.”

  He didn’t reply but casually took her hand and led her out of the alleyway. The unexpected gesture unnerved her.

  As soon as they were to the street, however, he released his grip. “I will not hold your hand in public.” His eyes twinkled with mischief. “Like Aunt Lisa said, I must watch myself.”

  It was a pleasantly warm walk to the Kings’ property. With the sunlight soaking through Kate’s black bonnet, she almost felt like herself again. She picked up a stick and tapped each fence post along the lane.

  “I heard from my professor yesterday,” she said. “I got the highest rating ever by an academy student at the Padlow vocal competition.”

  Nathaniel looked at her out of the corner of his eye and gave her a belated smile. “Congratulations. But I am not surprised. I’ve always known you were very, very gute.”

  “I do not mean to brag.” She shook her head. “I suppose I am bragging, but you and Elmer are the only two who care about my singing. I like to share the good news with someone.”

  She could see the muscles of his jaw tighten but the smile stayed in place. “I want you to share—everything. Otherwise, half of yourself would be a stranger to me.”

  They ducked into the cool barn and let their eyes adjust to the dimness. Kate’s fears of meeting up with Nathaniel’s mamm lessened. The barn sat almost a quarter mile from the house.

  “We only have one cow,” he said. “And three horses.” He walked to the corner and tapped on the buggy standing there. “And a special buggy for Dat and his wheelchair. We don’t take it out often, except for church.”

  “Where is your workshop?”

  “Attached to the house. Dat built the barn out here because Mamm didn’t want to be bothered with the flies.”

  “Or the smell, probably,” Kate said, gazing at the bales of hay stacked neatly against one wall.

  “Cum,” said Nathaniel, barely able to contain his excitement. “Will you allow me to show you something?”

  Kate groaned. “Ach. Very well, even though my better judgment tells me you are up to no good.”

  He motioned for her to follow and led her to an unused stall. Among the soft mounds of hay sat a black-and-white cat surrounded by seven kittens—two jet-black and five black-and-white mixes.

  Forgetting her troubles, Kate squealed in delight and knelt down for a better look. “Can I hold them?” she asked.

  “Jah, of course. They are ready to leave their mother. She does not mind.”

  Choosing one of the solid black ones, she picked it up and nuzzled it against her cheek. The kitten mewed quietly. “Oh, it is so soft. Look at his tiny nose and tiny paws.”

  Almost forgetting Nathaniel was there, Kate fussed over the kittens, holding and petting them one at a time, giving them temporary names, and talking to them as if she were carrying on a conversation with one of her brothers. She sat cross-legged and let all seven of them crawl around her lap.

  “Aren’t you sweet,” she said, picking up the other black one, the smallest of the litter. “Are your brothers and sisters nice to you? You tell them to be nice or Auntie Kate will scold them.”

  Nathaniel, who was standing with his elbows draped over the stall door, chuckled in amusement. “You should be their mother. They don’t get this much attention from her.”

  Kate stifled a grin. “Quit your teasing, Nathaniel King, or I will have to scold you too.”

  Nathaniel left his perch and squatted next to Kate.

  Welcoming his closeness, she laid a hand on his arm. “Denki for bringing me here today. This is just what I needed.”

  His eyes held a tenderness Kate had not seen before. “Do you like them?” he asked, almost in a whisper.

  “I love them.”

  “Gute. Which one do you want?”

  “You want to give me one?”

  “Jah. They are weaned now.”

  Kate snapped her head up to glare at Nathaniel then plopped the kitten next to its mother. “Wait a minute. You almost tricked me.”

  Nathaniel shrugged innocently. “Trick you?”

  “You promised no more gifts.”

  “This isn’t really a gift. I have to find a good home for each of these kittens. You would be doing me a favor by taking one off my hands.”

  Kate didn’t for a minute believe his story about needing to get rid of the kittens, and her practical side told her she should stand her ground. But kittens loved unconditionally and never gossiped or chastised
someone for being too worldly. And she didn’t really want to resist Nathaniel’s enchanting smile or the way he looked at her like she was the only person in the world. Was it the warm tone of his voice that sent chills down her spine? Surrender seemed her only option.

  “You are so thoughtful, Nathaniel. I would be very happy for a kitten.”

  He gazed at the kittens for a long while then looked away and stared out the high window. “Denki, Nightingale,” he whispered. “Denki.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Kate cuddled the furry black kitten in one hand while pouring fresh milk with the other. The kitten mewed and fussed until Kate set the tiny animal on the floor. She stroked her finger lightly over the kitten’s head while it lapped up its breakfast from one of Mamma’s cereal bowls.

  “And what do you think you have there?” Mamma said as she came into the kitchen.

  Kate gave her mother a half smile. “It is a gift, Mamma.”

  “A gift! Another gift from that boy I am not supposed to know about? If he wants to be secretive about his courting, he should think better about bringing you a present every time he comes.”

  “They are not just for me, Mamma, or I would never have accepted them,” Kate said. “They are for all the family.”

  Mamma laughed. “Ach, does that young man think I just fell off the turnip truck? Soon I will have to move out of the house to make room for all the gifts that aren’t really yours.” Mamma bustled over to the kitten and bent down to run her hand over its soft fur. “Did you tell him I am not keen on animals in the house?”

  “I did not have the heart. He was so excited to give it to me.”

  “You do not have the heart to ever disappoint him, I think,” Mamma said. When Kate did not reply, she added, “She will be a very beautiful cat.”

  “I can keep her in my room,” Kate said.

 

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