“You know what? I’m not, either.”
They got up from the barrels and walked farther, this time worrying less about the right ways and caring more about companionship. As the sky darkened and almost all traces of other voices disappeared, Robert reached out for her hand.
She took his immediately. “You lead the way.”
His hand tightened on hers as they wandered some more. “Would you think it strange if I said I was having a good time? We’re lost and confused and carrying around a cat.” He shook his head. “By all accounts, I should be feeling completely at a loss. Irritated,” he murmured after they made another two right turns.
As they stood in front of a row of corn and looked at the tiny opening, Lilly grinned. “I feel the same way. I’ve never really enjoyed corn mazes. I always thought they were too tame.”
“And I found them frustrating. I’ve been the kind of man who likes a straight path to where I’m going.”
His words shook her. The kind of man. As they continued on, walking slower and slower, Lilly found herself examining Robert from the corner of her eye.
Yes, he was a man. A grown-up. Mature. As far away from the boys she used to date as possible. With some surprise, she realized that she no longer even thought about boys her own age. She had no interest in boys whose whole world revolved around studies and football games. The last year had shaped her into a woman far older than her years. She’d gained wisdom and also a bit of impatience for things that didn’t matter to her.
Now, though she was only a waitress, she seemed to relate best with other people who were working, too. Who were struggling to find themselves, or who were attempting to make something productive out of their dreams.
“I’m having more fun getting lost than just about anything I’ve done in a long time,” she said as they crossed through another narrow opening and only came to another two routes. “This is the most complicated corn maze I’ve ever seen in my life. Whoever designed this should get a prize.”
Beside her, Robert looked bemused. “I’m afraid the complications are all of our making, Lilly. Listen.”
Sure enough, a steady stream of cheers erupted as yet another batch of people steadily found their way out.
When they heard a boy shout that it had only taken him four minutes to go from start to finish, Lilly giggled. “Well, that’s humbling, I suppose.”
“Terribly.” With a new look of intensity, Robert stopped and fingered a stalk to his right. “Does this cornstalk look familiar to you?”
He looked so earnest, she couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, Robert!”
“I’m serious. I think I recall this ear of corn—” His voice was cut off by a fluttering of wings overhead. In a flash, a black crow flew near, almost dive bombing them in its hunt for tasty kernels.
Lilly ducked. “Oh!” she cried, impulsively leaping toward Robert.
Above, the bird squawked.
She was afraid of birds. Especially big, bold black ones that were out of cages. Heart racing, she reached for him, pressing her forehead to his chest in an effort to hide from the bird. Clung to him in a burst of panic. Positive that bird was going to come back and swoop down close again.
But it, of course, was already out of sight.
When the quiet settled in again, Lilly closed her eyes in mortification. “I’m so sorry,” she murmured, lifting her head to meet his gaze. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“Perhaps that you were afraid?” he said gently.
Then she noticed that the kitten-filled basket was on the ground.
And that his hands weren’t at his sides. No, they were resting on her back. And his arms were holding her close. Protectively.
And he didn’t seem to be in any great hurry to let her go.
She shivered. But it wasn’t from fear. It was from his touch. And the rush of emotion that flew through her. Her muscles turned languid. Her body relaxed.
All of its own accord.
He misread her trembling. “It’s all right,” he murmured. “It was just a bird, and it didn’t harm us. And it’s long gone, now.”
“I…a crow pulled at my hair when I was a child,” she said, doing her best to concentrate on their conversation. Not the turmoil of emotions that was sweeping through her. “Ever since then, I’ve been unnaturally afraid of them.”
Instead of releasing her, he rubbed a reassuring hand along her spine. “Especially blackbirds, I imagine.”
“Yes.” Then any further talk stuck in her throat as she realized she was still pressed against him. So close that her feet were in between his—which he must have spread in order to hold her more securely.
Robert was taller than she was. Taller by a good four or five inches. His arms around her were strong enough to make her feel like she was the most protected woman in the world.
But it was his eyes that took her breath away. He was gazing at her in such a way that she couldn’t look away at all. “So blue,” she murmured. “Your eyes are so blue. Like Ty’s marbles,” she added, trying to find a proper way to describe them. Like they needed describing.
Like a man even cared about what exact color his eyes were.
Especially when he was about to kiss a girl. Robert brushed his lips against hers, carefully, as if she would break if he wasn’t careful. His beard grazed her cheek and jaw, bringing a tingle.
She was startled for a moment.
But then she kissed him back. His lips were firm and cool and tender. She tilted her head and relaxed against him. Enjoying the feel of his lips on hers. Enjoying the feel of his arms around her. Of being held.
A squeal in the distance broke them apart. Stumbling backward, Lilly pressed a hand to her lips. But that hand did nothing but remind her of the way he’d made her feel. Like she was desirable.
No, that wasn’t it, exactly. That one kiss, so chaste in many ways, had made her feel like she was special.
Worthwhile. A trembling sigh escaped her. Lowering her hand, she met his eyes.
He was staring at her in shock and breathing deeply. His hat had gotten displaced. He rearranged it without a word. Lilly reached down and picked up the basket. Miraculously, the kitten was still sleeping.
“I…I think the right way to go is left,” he finally said. “We’re near the outside now. Most likely, minutes away.”
“I…I hope so. We’ve been in here too long.” She averted his eyes, afraid to look at him now. “If all else fails, we can just cut through a row of corn.”
“Jah.”
Feeling off center, she started chattering. “I bet, before we know it, we’ll be out of here. I don’t know about you, but I am glad about that. All of a sudden, I’m feeling kid of warm.”
Ahead of her Robert kept walking, saying nothing. Nerves took over and she chattered again like a magpie. “It is so warm in here, I bet it will be twenty degrees cooler as soon as we get out. I bet that breeze is going to feel so good, too.”
He pointed. “I think we go through this opening, and then turn right. We’re almost out.”
“Great. I mean, that’s good. I mean, it’s about time.” He looked at her before disappearing through the stalks. “Yes. It is.”
She felt stunned and embarrassed and her heart felt like it was going a mile a minute. Regrets poured through her like water. She shouldn’t have gotten so scared of a bird. She shouldn’t have clung to him.
She shouldn’t have even agreed to go to the market. She shouldn’t have accepted the kitten.
She shouldn’t have kissed him back.
This date of theirs was such a mistake. A mistake of huge proportions, and she was probably going to regret it forever.
Walking behind him, she finally saw the exit. Robert was already standing outside, his head tilted slightly up in the breeze, his face as solemn as if they were at a funeral.
When she joined him, she did the same thing. Closed her eyes and enjoyed the fresh breeze that floated around her—cooled her off. But though her
skin felt relief, her insides didn’t.
Because…
She knew if he turned and pulled her close, she’d kiss him right back. Already, she was eager for his touch again.
The thought shamed her.
This was not a good thing. Not good at all.
Chapter 7
“What in the world is going on with you, Caleb?” his mother asked as soon as he came in from gathering eggs. “Nowadays, it seems I must ask you something twice or even three times.” One eyebrow rose. “Sometimes even more than that. And still you do not listen.”
Stunned by his mother’s harsh words, Caleb halted in the doorway of the kitchen. If his mother’s glare had been full of fire, he would have been charred in his steps for sure.
Most of the time when she fussed, he knew exactly what she was upset about. But not in this instance. Today, for the life of him, he couldn’t imagine what he’d done wrong.
Caleb was sick and tired of being yelled at. Carefully, he set the metal pail of eggs on the countertop. He used to gather eggs before school. Now it should be Anson or Carrie’s turn. He was too old for the chore.
But his mother had seen no reason for the others to take it on, even though all of them knew the hens had a special dislike for him.
The feeling was mutual. Three of the hens were so ornery, he continually hoped he’d be eating them for dinner. “Now what are you upset about?”
His mamm’s already thunderous expression turned darker. “That tone is unnecessary. You best take care with how you talk to me, son.”
Well, he didn’t appreciate her tone, either. No one liked getting yelled at the minute they walked in the door. “I would take care, if I was even sure what to say.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means I’m not even sure how to talk to you anymore. You find fault with everything I say and do.”
“That is not true.” She pointed to a spot not a full foot from where she stood. “And come closer, Caleb. I don’t care to yell at you across the room.”
Though that had been exactly what she’d been doing, he complied. Almost. He stepped into the always clean kitchen but not nearly as close as she’d indicated. “Mother, what specifically is wrong?”
“Specifically?” She scowled. “What is wrong is that you promised your father and me that you would chop wood this morning and then deliver it to the store. You have not.”
Guilt passed over him, hot and stark. She was right. He’d completely forgotten to chop wood. He’d gotten hung up in the barn, cleaning up the stalls and watering the horses. And then he’d realized that Anson had not filled the grain and oat bins for the chickens like he’d been told to.
Which had led Caleb to inspecting the other animals’ cages and discovering other places of neglect. Caleb was more than ready to wring his little brother’s neck…but not so prepared to tell on him. Joshua had rarely told on him when he still lived at home and Caleb had always appreciated that.
“I’ll go chop the wood now.”
“Gut.” She turned away and picked up a handful of vegetables from the sink without another word. And though Caleb was hungry enough to snatch that carrot she was chopping, he turned away and left again.
Two hours later, sweaty and practically starving, he drove the wagon to the store and stacked wood. Joshua was helping a customer, but nodded his thanks.
Then, before Anson showed up or his father caught sight of him, Caleb walked down to Mrs. Miller’s home. He needed a break from his family so badly he could taste it.
Only after knocking on the door did Caleb look at himself. He was covered in wood chips and dirt. His hands needed a good scrub, and he most likely smelled, too. He shouldn’t have rushed to the woman’s house without so much as washing his hands.
He was just about to turn around when Mrs. Miller opened the door.
Instead of looking put out by his mess, she stepped backward. “Caleb, what a nice surprise! Come in.”
Conscious of his dirty boots, he hesitated. “Maybe I shouldn’t…”
“Why not?” Looking him over with concern, she murmured, “What’s wrong? Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. But I just realized the state I’m in.” Now even more embarrassed about his appearance, he mumbled, “I’ve been doing chores all morning, but didn’t realize I look the worse for it. I, um, shouldn’t have come over like this.”
“You don’t look so bad.” A trio of lines formed around her eyes as she looked him over. “Just in need of a wipe down, maybe.”
“Yes. I’ll go do that.”
“You can get cleaned up here. And, Caleb, what is it that you need?”
“I was hoping that maybe you could spare me some time.”
To his profound relief, she chuckled. “I have lots of time for you, always. That is, if you don’t mind watching me can for a bit. I’ve been making applesauce all day.”
“I don’t mind.” He followed her into her kitchen, wondering what it was about this woman’s home that calmed him. His sister-in-law Gretta often said that she couldn’t think of a better home than the Grabers’.
Why was he always so discontented there?
In a matter of moments, Mrs. Miller placed a large chunk of banana bread and a glass of milk on the wide kitchen table. “Grab a towel and clean up, Caleb. Then come have a snack. And you may tell me what’s on your mind.”
After washing his hands, he wolfed down the bread in just four bites. Instead of chastising him, Mrs. Miller merely cut off another generous portion and placed it in front of him.
“Now, then. Relax.”
Her gentle manner always soothed him. Finally, he took his time about eating. Enjoying the silence of the room and the lack of tension as well. After what seemed like an eternity, after his last gulp of milk, he spoke.
“I’ve still been thinking about leaving Sugarcreek. About leaving my order.”
“Do you know where you want to go?”
He liked how again she didn’t start telling him how horrible he was. How he didn’t know his own mind. “I was thinking of Cleveland. It’s close. Our neighbors the Allens are from there.”
“Ah.” She efficiently filled another three jars, and then used tongs to pull the lids out of boiling water. Then, with a cloth, she tightened the metal lids securely. “And what do you plan to do when you get to Cleveland?”
“I’m not sure.”
After a pause, she said, “You might want to do some thinking about that.”
“What is there for me to do? I guess I’ll have to work.”
“Yes. Or maybe you could go to school for a bit. If that interests you…”
“There’s no place for me in the school. I only finished the eighth grade, you know. Lilly and Charlie Allen told me that they learned a lot in high school.” He knew his lack of schooling would stick out like a sore thumb. Plus, he figured a person had to have a nearby address in order to attend. He didn’t have anything like that.
“What kind of work would you do?”
“Work in a store, I guess. Or maybe help with carpentry or something.”
“So you know a lot about woodworking?”
His shoulders slumped. “No. Not a lot.”
“Why are you so determined to get away? You’re still in your rumspringa.”
“Even right now, I’m finding things to be awfully confining. And no matter how much experimenting I do, things around here aren’t going to change anytime soon.”
With another pair of tongs, she carefully placed a line of jars in boiling water. Caleb knew that after five or ten minutes, she’d take them out, then they’d hear the telltale pop that signified that the seals were secure.
As the jars boiled, Mrs. Miller darted a look his way again. “Caleb, a few years ago, I helped a pair of brothers leave their order. I suppose you heard about that?”
He nodded.
She sighed. “It’s not something I’m proud of doing. But, well, I knew the boys were going to l
eave anyway. With or without my help. They were having an awful time at home. Their father was abusive, and they had a lot of anger. In short, they were desperate. Do you know what I’m saying?” She peeked his way.
“I do.”
“I guess what I’m asking is—is that the state you are in? Desperate?”
“Desperate? No.” All he really wanted was a break from his family. Nothing at home was horrible.
But if things weren’t that bad, then why did he want to leave?
Slowly, Mrs. Miller said “When I helped those boys, their parents were upset with me, and rightly so.”
“Is that why you’re not Amish anymore?”
“Partly. Nothing was said outright. And…you, Caleb, are the first person I’ve actually told. So I wasn’t exactly shunned, but I definitely was out of everyone’s favor.” Haltingly, she added, “I’ve been lucky that I’ve had no trouble keeping boarders through the years. They’ve kept me company. But, it’s not the same as being a part of the community.”
“So you won’t help me leave?”
“Right now? No. I don’t think you’re ready.” Her voice softened. “But perhaps you should speak to your parents about how you’re feeling. Your parents are good people. They might have some ideas for you. Maybe even more ideas than you can imagine.”
“Like what?” All Caleb thought they’d do was tell him to go gather more eggs and chop wood.
“Perhaps they could let you leave for just a time? Some teens do that, you know.”
“And do what?”
“I don’t know. Maybe stay with some friends of the Allens for a month? Then you would know if living with the English is the right thing for you.”
“I could never do that.” Just the thought of being somewhere temporarily gave him a stomachache.
Still working, she carefully lifted jars out of the water and placed each one on a row of folded towels. “Could never or don’t want to?”
“It’s the same thing, really.”
She walked around the counter and rested a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t think so.”
“I had hoped you would make things easier for me.”
“I know.” A sad smile lit her face. “But I promise you this, everything you are considering is difficult. If you imagine not living at home is going to make your life easy, you are much mistaken. If you leave your family, your home, and everything you hold dear, you should be prepared to know what you intend to reach out and grab a hold of.”
Seasons of Sugarcreek 03. Autumn's Promise Page 7