A Season of Change

by Lynette Sowell

  “I know. Just . . . get . . . it . . . out. Please.” She bit her lip.

  “It’s going to hurt.” He couldn’t say sorry enough. He could see the barbed end of the hook, just underneath her skin. Maybe if he could cut through and cut off the barb . . .

  “Tell you what. I nearly cut off a finger once, with a band saw.”

  “You did?” She was humoring him, he could tell.

  “I was new, maybe my third week on the job. Wasn’t paying attention.” He used an alcohol pad on a small knife. “Looked the other way for a second.”

  “That would do it,” Natalie said.

  It was as if only the two of them were on the boat, him telling her about his own foolish injury, while preparing to cut the hook from her hand. Steven was a silent helper, giving him tools and such from the first aid kit.

  “Well, I know you didn’t mean to do this,” Natalie said.

  “No.” He cut into the skin and she winced. A quick snip cut the end off the hook. Then with another movement, Jacob pulled the long part of the hook from her palm.

  “Ow—” She clamped her free hand over her mouth, then winced again and gasped when he poured antibiotic solution all over her palm. Steven was quick to clamp a sterile gauze pad on the injury.

  “Now, we’ll wrap this up.” Jacob nodded his thanks to Steven. “You’ll be all set. But what can I do, to make this up to you?”

  Natalie shook her head. He quite liked the look of the big hat on her head. “Just catch plenty of fish, and warn me before you cast next time.” Her eyes twinkled at him.

  “Fair enough, then.” Jacob smiled at her before he stood. He dared not look at Betsy, a few paces away at the rear of the boat. He hadn’t intended on catching anything besides fish today. Instead, he’d caught Natalie. Literally.

  Not good, not good, reason screamed inside him. You’re on the Gulf of Mexico, but you’re playing with fire out here.

  18

  The day moved past as the sun arced above them in the sky. Betsy had had fun enough, catching three good fish. Aunt Chelle had caught two. But the biggest news was Jacob “catching” Natalie, as Zeke called it. The little boy thought it was funny, but the meaning wasn’t lost on Betsy. What a waste of time. She could have worked this morning instead of following Aunt Chelle’s lead.

  Another life lesson, she reflected as they said good-bye to Natalie at the marina and headed home with Henry’s help, who dropped them off first.

  Once back at Aunt Chelle’s, settled on the lanai with a fresh glass of sweet tea, Betsy observed her sunburned nose. She should have worn a hat like Natalie’s that blocked out the sun. She’d forgotten to apply more sunscreen, so this is what it got her. A stinging nose to match her stinging heart.

  “Oh, Betsy.” Aunt Chelle sighed as she sat down in the chaise beside Betsy’s. “I couldn’t help but notice, today . . .”

  “Jacob and the Englisch woman.” Betsy sighed. “I wish I could understand. What does she have I don’t?”

  “Nothing, nothing at all. There is a verse from Proverbs which says one of the things too difficult to understand is the way of a man with a maiden. Somehow, there is something that makes someone else more . . . appealing . . . than another.”

  Betsy sighed again. “I was hoping, the longer they were here, and I was here . . . maybe there’d be a chance. I had to stay, I had to try, and wait.”

  “I know.” Chelle set her glass on an end table. “That was obvious to me from the start. You’ve given up a lot to stay here past winter season. I was afraid Pinecraft would end up . . . boring you, now that the visitors are sporadic. Most of your friends are back home now.”

  Betsy nodded. “They are. And I spoke with my mamm the other afternoon. She told me they’d wire me money for a bus ticket, should I want to go home now.”

  “There’s no shame in that. I know I’ve enjoyed having you here, but you should pray about what to do.”

  “Thanks, Aunt Chelle.” Betsy tried to find the right words, but they wouldn’t come. There was no way to stop what might be happening between Natalie and Jacob. No way she could see.

  Yet for the couple to be together, they would both have to make big compromises to their way of life. Betsy couldn’t see either of them budging. She knew she wouldn’t want to be a position like that herself, ever. Choosing between her Order and love? She wouldn’t.

  “What do you mean, Rebecca’s gone?” Natalie could hear a frantic tone across the phone line. Somehow, little Zeke had found her number and managed to use someone’s phone. She had no idea how he’d managed it. Kids were smart like that, though.

  “She’s gone,” he sobbed. “We got home and she’s gone.”

  “How are you calling me? I didn’t think your grandmother had a phone.”

  “Daed has a phone, for when he works for Henry.”

  Jacob Miller, with a cell phone? She tried to wrap her mind around that one.

  “Mammi said she went to lie down and tucked Rebecca in, but when she got up, Rebecca was gone.”

  “I’ll be right there.” She’d doctored her hand and planned to call her physician first thing Monday morning for an appointment. No way would she dampen their fishing trip by having them return to shore early. Instead, she’d let Jacob bandage her hand and contented herself with watching the rest of them fish, and handing out water and sandwiches as the day went on.

  But now, Rebecca missing? Where could a girl on crutches go? Surely not far.

  Natalie grabbed her purse and keys, trying not to favor her right hand, but wincing anyway.

  She arrived in Pinecraft in record time, after sneaking through at least one yellow light on the way. A cluster of people had gathered in the Millers’ front yard. She pulled as close to the edge of the lawn as possible without driving onto the grass. On this side of the street, there was no sidewalk to contend with.

  Zeke came running to her, full tilt. She braced herself for the impact. “You came,” he said as he hurtled into her knees.

  “Of course, I did.” She scanned the crowd as she leaned to hug him, then stood upright again. There was Rachel, standing on the front steps, shaking her head and gesturing, wringing her hands.

  Jacob was nowhere to be seen. Of course, he was probably out looking for Rebecca.

  A few steps brought her to Rachel, with Zeke scurrying along beside her. “Rachel, Zeke called me. What can I do to help?”

  “Pray, Natalie. Pray. Ask Gotte to help us find her.” Rachel shook her head. “I can’t think of where she would have gone. Jacob said Rebecca was disappointed she didn’t get to go fishing today. He didn’t think it was wise to take her far from shore, in case something happened.”

  “That makes sense to me. How long has she been gone?”

  “I laid down after lunch, then woke up at two o’clock and realized the house was empty.” Rachel’s voice trembled. “Gotte, watch over our little lamb.”

  A stray little lamb, at that. “Do you think she might have gone to the park?”

  Rachel shrugged, raised her hands. “The whole village has started to look for her. We’ve called the authorities, but we’re still searching.”

  “I’ll start looking, too. What color dress was she wearing?”

  “Pink. Her new pink one I bought for her last week. She’s getting taller.”

  “Okay.” Of course, they likely didn’t have a photograph of her. “I’ll have my phone on, just in case.”

  Rachel nodded. “I’ll make sure someone calls you if she is found.”

  Another woman approached. “I made some fresh lemonade for the searchers.”

  “How sweet of you, Vera. Thank you.” Rachel motioned over her shoulder. “Right in the kitchen, on the counter will be fine.”

  Zeke kept his hand clamped to Natalie’s. She paused. “Rachel, may I take Zeke with me?”

  She nodded. “Yes. Be careful.”

  Natalie gave the older woman a wave. Surely, Rebecca would likely be with a friend, or someone surely mus
t have seen her.

  “I hope we find her.” Zeke trotted along beside her, and she slowed her pace. “I hope she’s not dead.”

  “Oh, I don’t think so. She might have found a friend at the park.” She figured she would head across Bahia Vista, into the heart of the main part of the village. How far could a child get on crutches? They weren’t the most comfortable way to get around, but if Rebecca was desperate enough, they likely wouldn’t stop a determined little girl.

  “We always watch for the light.” Zeke stopped at the busy street corner. “That’s where Rebecca was hit by the car.” He pointed diagonally across the intersection in front of Big Olaf’s Creamery.

  “Yes, we do.” She recalled them mentioning where the accident took place. “Let’s start with Yoder’s Market. Maybe she went to the market there to, uh, look around.”

  “I like Yoder’s Market. They sell whoopie pies.”

  She’d never been inside the market before. Maybe one of the searchers had already gone through the store and asked employees if they’d seen Rebecca. But this would be a good distraction for Zeke and give him something to do besides worry.

  They entered the market and Natalie inhaled the aroma of bread and muffins. Fresh produce lined one wall, open to the outdoors. Three aproned workers bustled around the store, assisting customers.

  Funny how the world kept going when your world suddenly went off-tilt. Everyone else went about their ordinary business as usual. Natalie knew the sensation well of wanting the rest of the world to feel something—to have a clue her world was not right. Maybe Zeke did, too. The little guy had had his world upended, and then some. She prayed today’s encounter would have a happy ending.

  “Maybe this lady has seen her,” Natalie said as they approached the closest employee to them. “Excuse me?”

  “Yes, how may I help you?” The woman’s expression turned quizzical as she took in the sight of Natalie’s Englisch clothing alongside Zeke’s trousers and suspenders and light blue shirt.

  “Have you seen a little girl, about eight years old, on crutches, her leg in a cast? She’s wearing a pink cape dress.”

  “She’s my sister,” Zeke said.

  “No, I’m afraid I haven’t,” the woman said, shaking her head. “Someone else came by about twenty minutes ago, asking about her as well.”

  “Okay. Well, if she should happen by, please have someone call my cell number.” Natalie fumbled for a pen and scrap of paper from her purse, trying not to wince as she wrote the number.

  “I most certainly will.”

  “Thank you.” She glanced around for Zeke. He was standing at the bakery display and the stacks of packaged whoopie pies, freshly made banana breads, pumpkin, and zucchini bread. There was even a red velvet whoopie pie.

  She pulled a bill from her wallet. “Go ahead, pick one out. You said you like whoopie pies.”

  “But my supper?”

  “That’s hours away. You need to keep your strength up.” She nudged his shoulder.

  “Keep my strength up?”

  “I’m joking. But what kind do you like?”

  “Chocolate, with the marshmallow filling.”

  “Okay, then. Pick the one you want.”

  He beamed, pulling a package of chocolate pies from the display, and walked solemnly to the register. “We pay here.”

  “You’re quite right.” She paid for the whoopie pies and off they went into the sunshine. For a few seconds, worry had fled.

  Did the Amish worry, like the rest of the world did? Rachel was worried; Natalie could tell by the wringing of her hands, the furrow in her brow. Surely they must. Emotions like that were common to everyone. Just like grief.

  But when the outcome wasn’t what they hoped, how could they chalk it up to what they called Gotte’s wille? God’s will wasn’t for children to be separated from parents so soon. Rebecca missing?

  They walked along, Zeke chomping down on a whoopie pie and Natalie scanning the yards. Maybe she’d wandered over to a friend’s house. They ambled closer to Pinecraft Park, where anyone and everyone spent time.

  It would be in the winter, but not now, not when most of the winter crowd had returned to the north and left the year-round residents to rattle around a mostly-quiet neighborhood.

  “There’s no kids here,” Zeke observed. Chocolate ringed his lips.

  A quartet of men were playing bocce, and a trio of ladies were playing shuffleboard, not nearly the same crowd as in the height of the winter season.

  She saw Jacob and Henry talking to a family next to the jungle gym.

  “There’s my daed.” Zeke rubbed his mouth with the back of his hand.

  “I suppose it won’t hurt to find out where they’ve searched and who they’ve talked to already.” Natalie headed in their direction. Zeke didn’t break away to run for his father, but kept next to her.

  It wasn’t the first time she’d felt the maternal nudge. She’d wanted a family, to marry, to settle down at some point, but the road didn’t lend itself to that and she didn’t want to raise her children in the same way. Now that she’d been “home,” such as it was, well, it had been difficult to insert herself into a life where everyone else knew their place.

  Zeke wasn’t her little boy, but the feel of his small hand in hers made her want to protect him, no matter what the cost. Even Rebecca, wherever she’d gone off to, had taken up residence in a corner of her heart.

  This wasn’t good. One day, they’d all be gone, back to their very real life in Ohio, and she’d be here again. Alone.

  She forced a smile at Jacob. “Hello, we’ve been out searching for Rebecca, too. I thought a whoopie pie might help take his mind off his worries.”

  Jacob’s brow furrowed, his blue eyes darkened. “Your supper will be ruined. And we’re having fish.” He flicked a glance from Zeke to Natalie, then back to his son.

  “Entirely my fault,” Natalie admitted. Henry was still talking to the family. “We stopped by Yoder’s Market and I asked about Rebecca.”

  “She would never go in a store by herself.”

  “Maybe not, but she probably feels safe and secure here, much as she did on your property back . . . back home.” Natalie choked out the words. “If I were a child, a yummy-smelling store with whoopie pies would be one of the first places I would want to visit.”

  She shrugged off the sting of his tone. Of course, it wasn’t the fact Zeke had practically inhaled the package of whoopie pies and allegedly “ruined his supper.” Jacob was worried, maybe a little scared, although he’d probably never admit it.

  “Someone said she was upset about not being able to go fishing today.” Natalie scanned the banks of the creek running through the park. “Do you think she might have tried to fish here, on her own?”

  “She knows nothing about fishing.” Jacob’s reply came out clipped.

  “She’s smart. She could figure something out.” Natalie headed toward the creek bank. “So no one’s seen her?”

  Henry joined them at the water’s edge. “Someone said they saw a girl in a pink dress, heading for the park, but she was walking with a family so they didn’t think anything of it.”

  Natalie exchanged a glance with Jacob. Who else knew her in the village who was a full-time resident? The winter traffic had trickled off and now the year-round folks were dealing with the ghost town Pinecraft was during the spring and summer months.

  “We should check the creek banks.” Jacob cleared his throat.

  “I’m going to check the creek area,” Henry said. “There’s a tiny inlet near Schrock that has a footbridge crossing it.”

  “Call me if you find her.” Natalie raised her phone. “I can send you my number.”

  “Please, do.” Henry gave her his number, and she punched in the digits.

  “There.” She smiled at him, then found one of her hands claimed by Zeke.

  Jacob had already begun walking off, muttering in Pennsylvania Dutch. She’d be muttering too, if it was her chil
d.

  Zeke regarded the water, his brown eyes full of emotion. “Rebecca can’t swim.”

  “No, but I’m sure she’s careful.” Of course, it would be easy enough to slip into the water of Phillippi Creek. The waterway snaked past the park. To the northeast lay Bahia Vista. They headed away from the busy street.

  It should be easy enough to see a bright pink dress against the green, grassy edges of the creek.

  Natalie stopped short. Were there alligators in the creek? She dared not ask the question aloud, even to the breeze. Zeke didn’t need to be worried any more than he already was.

  “I still think she went fishing,” Natalie said. “Maybe she borrowed a pole, or found one somehow. I don’t know.”

  “The water looks deep.” Zeke frowned as they ambled along, away from the pavilion and the shuffleboard courts. They crossed a small boat landing, the creek’s water lapping not far from where they walked.

  “I’m not sure.” She couldn’t quite make out the bottom and didn’t care to try. Her phone chimed on her hip. Henry. She pushed the talk button.

  “Did you find her?” she asked.

  “No, but I did find a family, the Frys, who traded her the use of a kid’s fishing pole and bait for a sack of fresh grapefruit. What about you?”

  “Nothing so far. Say, how deep is this creek?”

  “Not more than five feet in the middle, I’d venture to guess.”

  “Ah, okay.”

  Zeke chose that moment to pull away from Natalie. “I see a little boat!”

  “I’ll call you if I find her,” Natalie said.

  They left the area of the boat ramp and continued downstream, taking a narrow path through the woods, still keeping parallel to the water.

  “Zeke, stop, wait for me.” Natalie tried to keep a quaver from her voice. Water in Florida nearly always meant gators. And now, as they were headed away from a main area frequented by humans, it wouldn’t surprise her at all to see one of the creatures. She’d seen them in the canal not far from Grace’s home, drifting like piles of wood. Only the wood had eyes that moved and ended in rows of teeth.