by Marta Perry
Hargrove wandered along the counter, looking dismissively at the various pieces Katie had displayed. He stopped when he reached the baby quilt Caleb’s mother had made.
“Now, this might be something I’d be interested in.” He lifted the quilt, shaking it out to its full length. “For a gift, you know.”
Katie nodded, catching the quilt before its edge could touch the floor. “It is a lovely piece for a nursery. Made by a gifted local quilter. The design . . .”
Hargrove chuckled. “Don’t know much about quilts, or need to. But like I say, I might give it as a gift. If the price is right, that is.” He flipped over the edge as if looking for a tag.
“This piece just came into the store today,” Katie said. “It is not marked yet, but it is priced at two hundred dollars.”
“Two hundred dollars? What’s it made of, gold?” Hargrove let go of the quilt. “I can’t spend that much on a gift.”
“Think of the hours of work that went into it.” Katie folded the crib quilt, her hands gentle. She held it for a moment against the blue dress she wore, as if it were wrapped around a boppli. “Look at the fine stitching, all done by hand. It’s not just a baby quilt. It’s an heirloom, something a mother will pass on to a daughter.”
“Very nice.” Hargrove stepped back, brushing his hands together as if to say he was finished. “My niece would be happy to have it, with the new baby coming and all, but I can’t afford that price. Now, if you said seventy-five dollars . . .”
Katie didn’t look at Caleb, but he seemed to know what she was thinking. She hadn’t made much money in her first week, judging by what he’d seen, and maybe any sale was better than no sale.
“It may be for his niece.” He surprised himself with his own words, spoken quickly in Pennsylvania Dutch so that Hargrove wouldn’t understand. “But he is a dealer with a couple of shops of his own. Buys cheap and sells dear, so people say.”
Katie’s face warmed with gratitude. “Ja, denke, Caleb.”
“Something wrong?” Hargrove looked from one to the other, his eyes narrowing.
“No, not at all.” Katie had switched back to Englisch, her voice firm. “The price is two hundred. Now, if you’re interested in taking some pieces on commission for your shop . . .” She let that trail off.
Hargrove’s lips tightened to a thin line, and he shot an annoyed glare at Caleb. “I don’t deal in commissions. Never have, never will. And if you want to make a success of this place, you won’t, either.”
“It is a way that is fair to the quilter,” she said mildly.
“It’s a good way to go broke,” he snapped. He turned, stomping toward the door. “Suit yourself. Your place will go belly-up before the year’s out, anyway. Not enough traffic through this out-of-the-way place.”
He grabbed the door and yanked it open, the bell jangling furiously. “Let me know when you have your going-out-of-business sale. Maybe I’ll buy something.” He punctuated the words with a slam of the door.
For a moment silence filled the shop.
“Well.” Katie let out a long breath. “I hope I don’t have many visitors like that.”
Her tone was light, but Caleb saw her fingers press against the countertop until they were white.
“You don’t want to listen to somebody like Hargrove.” He wasn’t very good at finding comforting words to say. “You’ll do fine.”
“I hope so.” But the confidence was lost from her voice. None of his business, Caleb reminded himself. Still, he had to do something.
“I’ll go and get that quilt rack,” he said. “Which quilt do you want to hang on it?”
Her gaze met his, and the sparkle came back into her eyes. “Ach, your mamm’s baby quilt, of course. What else?”
CHAPTER FOUR
This feels familiar, ain’t so?” Molly tilted her head toward the grounds around the township fire hall, her dimples showing when she smiled. “You had Mud Sales at home, I’m sure.”
“Ja, you’re right.” Katie glanced across the grassy area, already turning muddy from all the people who crowded around stalls selling everything from plants to funnel cakes to the latest kitchen gadgets. “Except there I knew everyone.”
She wished the words back immediately, reminding herself that “everyone” included Eli and Jessica.
Molly squeezed her arm. “You’ll soon get to know folks here.”
“For sure.” She pinned on a smile.
Aaron, Molly’s oldest brother, caught up with them. “What are you looking to buy today, Cousin Katie? A pan of sticky buns or a vegetable chopper or a new harrow? Whatever it is, someone has it.”
Her smile broadened. Aaron’s happiness was contagious as he looked forward to his fall wedding to Sarah Mast, the midwife. “I don’t think I need anything, but you are the one to shop today,” she said. “You’ll be setting up housekeeping with Sarah at the birthing center before long. There must be some things you both need.”
Aaron’s face gentled, as it always did at the mention of his intended. “Sarah’s aunt has lived in the house for so long that it’s well-furnished. Still, Aunt Emma will be moving furniture into the grossdaadi haus once it’s finished, and we might need a few things.”
Aaron, a carpenter, was building an addition to the old house for Sarah’s aunt, a semi-retired midwife who still helped out with the births.
“Go along with you.” Molly flapped her hand at her brother. “You know you want to check out what they have at the auction. And if you see Jacob, tell him I’ll take the boppli whenever he wants.”
Nodding, Aaron moved off through the crowd.
“I think everybody in the township is here today,” Molly said, nodding to an older couple who passed them. “You should have just closed the shop and let Rhoda komm, too.”
“Rhoda will have her chance this afternoon. I’ll go back and take over for her.”
That arrangement had not been to Rhoda’s liking, since she’d wanted to spend the whole day at the sale with her new friends. But Katie hadn’t been able to get the words of that Englisch dealer out of her mind, try as she might. He was convinced she would fail, and her dwindling bank account only reinforced that idea. Even if she made only one sale today, she had to stay open.
“Look, there is Rachel Zook’s stand. Komm, we must say hello.”
Katie let herself be tugged along by her cousin. She knew full well what Molly was doing. She was determined that Katie should meet everyone, make friends, and be happy here.
Rachel had a welcoming grin as they approached her stand, which was laden with flats of flower and herb seedlings. “Molly, Katie. It’s gut to see you. Katie, this is your first Mud Sale here, ja?”
Katie nodded. She’d talked with Rachel several times after church, of course, but Rachel had always seemed busy with her young family. “You have so many plants. They look wonderful gut.”
“Rachel was born with a green thumb,” Molly teased. “And now that she has her greenhouse, her business is thriving.”
“It does all right.” Rachel flushed slightly at Molly’s words. “I never thought I’d be running a business, that’s certain-sure, but it has worked out just fine for me.”
Katie nodded. This wasn’t the life she’d envisioned for herself, either. But Rachel had a loving husband and young children, in addition to her business, so she had the best of both, it seemed.
“This is a gut place for you to make sales?” she asked.
“Ja, I go to all the spring sales, and also to the farmers’ market. It’s worthwhile, I think. Even if folks don’t buy from me on the day of the sale, they might remember my name and seek me out afterward.”
Katie nodded, considering Rachel’s words. “That didn’t occur to me. Maybe I should be following your example. I could take some things from the shop out to sales.”
“Gut idea,” Molly said, her face lighting up with her typical enthusiasm. “I’d think you could sell a lot of the smaller items at a sale like this, and once folks
saw what you have, they’d want to visit the shop. Why, you could hit a sale every weekend, this time of year, if you didn’t mind hiring a driver, and—”
“Ach, Molly, don’t overwhelm her.” Rachel seemed to read Katie’s reaction. She reached across the counter to pat her hand. “Not every sale, for sure. That would tire you out. But I am planning to go to the one in Fisherdale in two weeks. If you’re interested, you could go with me and share my stand.”
The unexpected offer, coming when she had been feeling increasingly worried, nearly brought tears to Katie’s eyes. “That is ser gut of you. But I don’t want to impose.”
“It’s not imposing. I would be glad of the company.” Rachel squeezed her hand. “Other people helped me when I was getting started. We businesswomen need to stick together, ja?”
“Ja. Denke, Rachel.” Rachel’s words seemed to sweep away some of Katie’s doubts. “I would like to do that, if you’re sure.”
Rachel nodded briskly. “I’ll stop by the shop this week, and we can make plans.”
An Englisch woman approached the stand. “Rachel, I see you have the best plants as always.” She included Molly and Katie in her smile.
Katie found it difficult, sometimes, to judge the age of an Englisch person, but the woman’s gray hair, worn short and windblown, seemed to say she was middle-aged, at least. Smile lines crinkled around green eyes that seemed to match the shirt she wore with jeans and a corduroy jacket.
“Molly, it’s so nice to see you. How is the baby?”
“Ach, he is thriving.” Molly beamed at the mention of little Jacob. “I don’t think you have met my cousin, Katie Miller. She has the new quilt shop in town. Katie, this is Mrs. Macklin. Her gift shop is just down the street from your shop.”
“Lisa, please.” The woman’s warm smile included Katie. “In Pleasant Valley we’re all just down the street from each other, aren’t we? I’m sorry I haven’t been in to welcome you yet.”
Katie wasn’t sure whether to respond to the introduction or to the woman’s comment. “It is nice to meet you, Mrs. . . . Lisa,” she amended. “Are you interested in quilting?”
“Interested, but not very good. Still, I’d like to learn more about the lovely quilts the Amish make. I’ll stop by sometime next week, okay? Main Street merchants have to support each other.”
It was a variation on what Rachel had said, and it warmed Katie still more, making her feel that she was not alone.
“I’ll look forward to seeing you soon, then.”
Lisa Macklin nodded. “You know, you might be interested in a project I’m working on. I’ve been thinking that if all of the merchants got together, we might find ways of drawing more tourists into town. That would be good for everyone.”
Certainly good for her, Katie knew, but she couldn’t jump into anything without considering it carefully, especially if it would cost money.
“I would like to hear about it,” she said politely. “But now I must go. I told my sister I would be back to take over the shop so that she can come and enjoy the sale.”
“We’ll talk about it when I stop by your shop, then.” Lisa nodded, turning to Rachel’s plants.
Katie moved away, her spirits a bit lighter. She hadn’t come to the sale today with any particular hopes, but in a short time she’d gained a friend or two and lost some of the apprehension that had been dogging her. She’d been praying for guidance, and perhaps those two very different women were God’s answer.
Molly caught up with her. “I’ll walk along with you as far as the auction tent. The boppli might be getting hungry.”
“You just can’t bear to be away from him, that’s all,” Katie teased.
Molly glanced toward the tent, maybe looking for Jacob. “There is Naomi Brand with her family. I’m glad to see her out and about.”
Katie looked in the direction Molly indicated. Naomi seemed to be surrounded by her entire family, except for one person.
“Caleb isn’t there,” she pointed out. “He must be keeping his shop open today, too. So I’m not the only one who didn’t close.”
“Caleb doesn’t go out to events like this very often.” Molly closed her lips, as if she’d said something she shouldn’t.
“Why is that?”
“Why what?” Molly tried unsuccessfully to look as if she didn’t know what Katie was talking about.
Katie gave her arm a little shake. “You said Caleb doesn’t go out to events like this. What did you mean?”
“Nothing. I—nothing.”
Katie tightened her grip on her cousin’s elbow. If Molly held the key to unraveling the puzzle that was Caleb Brand, she wanted to know it.
“Molly,” she said warningly.
“Oh, all right.” Molly took a quick look around, as if to ensure that no other Amish were within earshot. “You must have noticed already how Caleb would rather stay away from people.”
Katie considered. He did seem to keep to himself, but she’d thought maybe that was just with her. It was unusual among the Amish, to whom family and community meant so much.
Molly took a deep breath and blew it out. “He’s a bit older than me, so I don’t know as much as some might. Maybe you should talk to Aaron.”
Katie recognized an evasion when she saw it. “I’m talking to you.”
“Ja. Well, when he was younger Caleb and Mattie Weaver were going to make a match of it. Everyone said so, and they were together all the time. The wedding date was set, even. And then one day Mattie was just gone.”
“Gone?” Startled into immobility, Katie let a group of Englisch flow around her. “What do you mean?”
Tears sparkled in Molly’s eyes. She wasn’t enjoying telling the story. “She ran away, without a word to anyone.”
“That ... That’s terrible.” For Caleb, and for Mattie’s family.
“But that wasn’t all.” Having started, Molly seemed intent on getting the whole story out. “A few months later, the community learned that she was living in Harrisburg. And she was pregnant.”
Katie tried to absorb that. “But if she was going to have his baby, why didn’t she come back?”
“That’s what nobody knows. You can imagine the fuss it caused. Caleb went before the bishop and the ministers. He said he still wanted to marry Mattie, but she wouldn’t have him. Bishop Mose even went to Harrisburg and talked to her, and she said the same. No explanation, but she wouldn’t come back.”
It was a painfully unfinished story. “That’s all?”
Molly shrugged. “What could anyone do, when she had left and wouldn’t return?”
Katie grappled with it. “But Caleb stayed here.”
“Ja. He stayed. I think he might have been under the bann for a short time, but then . . . well, it should have wiped the slate clean.”
“But it didn’t,” Katie said, knowing that must be the case. “People didn’t understand, and so they remember.”
“Ja. Folks don’t forget. If Caleb had married, gone on with his life, maybe they would have. But he didn’t, and he just stays away from people when he has a choice.”
Maybe Caleb couldn’t go on with his life. And maybe Katie understood just a little of what he felt.
“What about Mattie’s family? Did they leave, too?”
Molly shook her head. “They’re still here . . . in fact, they’re here today—the older couple we passed when we were going to Rachel’s stand.” Molly let out a sigh. “I always feel so sorry for Ruth. I’m sure she would forgive what her daughter did, but her husband, Ephraim, is so strict. He’ll never have their daughter spoken of, even though she hadn’t been baptized yet when she left.”
“That is so sad. Families can be torn apart over things like that.” It was heartbreaking for everyone concerned. Did Caleb still love Mattie, despite what she’d done?
Small wonder that people still talked. What could have been so bad that the woman refused to marry the father of her baby?
Katie couldn’t seem to let go of the
revelation about Caleb. She walked back toward the shop along the village’s main street, her thoughts churning as she passed under trees leafing out in their pale green colors.
Certainly it wasn’t unheard of for a young couple to become pregnant before the wedding. Nobody wanted that to happen, but young people could be heedless, swept up in the emotion of the moment.
Normally, the couple made a confession to the bishop and ministers, and a hurried-up wedding would be arranged. A source of embarrassment to the parents, maybe, but beyond that it would be quickly forgiven and forgotten. A situation like this one Katie had never heard before.
She passed Paula’s bakery, then the tiny shop that sold everything from paper clips to drain cleaner. Like many of the stores, including hers, it was located in what had once been someone’s home. The only new building in town was the bank, and even that had been built of a faded brick so that it didn’t stand out for its newness.
Was it possible that Caleb’s love—Mattie, her name was—had wanted to leave while Caleb wanted to stay?
Maybe so. But Katie thought they could have come to a compromise when a baby’s future was at stake.
She stopped at the corner. Pleasant Valley boasted one traffic light, where the state route crossed Main Street. She waited obediently at the curb, even though no traffic appeared in either direction. Molly had been right—everyone was at the fire hall for the Mud Sale on this fine, sunny Saturday.
But not Caleb. As she approached, she could see that his door stood open. Another few steps, and she glimpsed him bending over the counter in his shop.
Averting her gaze, she hurried past toward her own shop. How could she face him with this knowledge so fresh in her mind?
She couldn’t. She’d just have to avoid him until she could talk to him without her knowing being written all over her face for him to see.
Katie scurried to her door, reaching out to open it, and stopped, staring. CLOSED. The sign on the window had been flipped to read CLOSED.
Surely not. Maybe she’d forgotten to switch it when she opened up this morning. She grasped the knob and twisted. It didn’t turn. The shop was dark and locked. And Rhoda was supposed to be here.