He held her close before releasing her. “I’ll go talk to Bishop Tom—tell him we’re ready to set a date,” he said.
“Let me be the first to congratulate you!” Savilla called out from the steam table across the room. “I, um, couldn’t help overhearing your gut news.”
“You’ll be cooking our wedding meal, too,” Drew said happily. “It’s going to be a mighty special day—probably in late October. We’ll get back to you soon with our plans.”
“We’ll be happy to host your dinner,” Savilla said. “Josiah and I love weddings.”
Drew took Loretta’s hand and tucked it into the crook of his elbow. “Shall we go? I think we’ll make a lot of people happy with our announcement.”
Loretta grinned. “I know I’m happy!”
“That’s all that matters,” Drew said as he opened the side door. “If you’re happy, everything else will fall into place and life will be gut.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
From the side of the road, Rebecca peered through the long lens of her camera, zooming in on Wyatt’s face as he chose a brownie from the tray Loretta was holding. Why was he wearing bandages on his face and neck? Had the rhubarb crisp still been hot enough in the center to burn him?
She let out a long sigh and sank back against her car seat. She hadn’t intended to injure him. Her first priority should be an apology, before she asked him point-blank about that woman in his trailer.
Just then the sleek socialite stepped outside onto the deck of the double-wide. She stretched languidly, as though she’d enjoyed sleeping late and had then taken a leisurely shower, unaware that a work crew had been erecting a large barn while she lounged.
Or maybe she was watching them through the window. Maybe she has a thing for muscular men wearing tool belts.
When Wyatt had teased Rebecca about watching the men work, she’d thought he was funny—but she wasn’t laughing this time. Maybe the blond she-cat on the deck had eyes only for Wyatt.
Rebecca’s stomach churned. She should’ve shown up earlier, maybe taken Wyatt aside, even if the men would speculate about their conversation. It seemed that if she was to speak with Wyatt now, his other woman would be present—and she would probably do a lot more than speculate. She might tell Rebecca to hit the road and not darken Wyatt’s door again—especially if she’d burned him with her crisp.
If she does that, and Wyatt goes along with her, you have your answer about him, don’t you ? Then you can tell Mamma you tried to make amends, but the truth about him has set you free, so to speak.
Pulling off the shoulder where she’d parked and back onto the county highway, Rebecca steered her car toward the packed dirt pathway that led to Wyatt’s trailer and the work site. She felt nervous and inadequate and outclassed, but it was time to have this conversation. As she parked near the wagon with the coolers and snack trays on it, most of the men were ambling toward the Grill N Skillet’s restroom. She set her camera in the passenger’s seat and opened the car door, prepared to be scorned and raked over the coals of Wyatt’s displeasure.
Ben waved from the other side of the wagon and approached her. “Gut to see you, Rebecca,” he called out. When he reached her, he lowered his voice. “Are you responsible for those bandages on Wyatt’s face? All he’s saying is that he got burned.”
I could say the same thing, she mused. “I don’t know, but I’m about to find out and apologize, if I need to,” she murmured, watching as Wyatt chatted with Adam and Matthias Wagler before they, too, walked toward town. “Has he said anything about that blonde who’s stepping off his deck, walking toward him?”
Ben turned, his gaze lingering on the woman’s hot pink short shorts and the faceted belt that sparkled in the sunlight as she walked. “Not a word. But I can see why you’d be upset, honey-girl,” he murmured. “This doesn’t look too promising, even to a fellow who tries to see the gut in everyone and every situation.”
Rebecca smiled, grateful for Ben’s appraisal. “I’m not looking forward to it, but I’ve come to speak with Wyatt—as Mamma suggested. I wasn’t counting on having a stranger listening in.”
Ben removed his straw hat and smoothed his sweat-dampened brown hair. “Want me to come with you?”
Rebecca wanted to kiss him. Was it any wonder Mamma was so in love with this caring, compassionate man? “I really appreciate your offer, Ben, but I’m a big girl, and I should handle this myself,” she said. “What can Wyatt—or that woman—do to me out in the open where you and Bishop Tom can watch?”
Ben’s hazel eyes lit up with soft laughter. “You’ve got a lot of your mamm in you. You’ll be fine, Rebecca.”
With a nod, she walked around the flatbed wagon, steeling herself for whatever Wyatt might say. You’ve got a lot of your mamm in you echoed in her mind like a mantra. What would Mamma do right now?
When Wyatt caught sight of Rebecca, his steely gaze gave her pause. He crossed his arms and seemed to plant himself more firmly where he stood—which made Edith, Rosalyn, and Bishop Tom turn to see what he was staring at. The sight of his two large bandages sent a shiver of guilt through her.
But she still deserved the truth.
Clasping her hands to keep them from shaking, Rebecca approached him. Her throat was so dry she wasn’t sure the words would come out, but it was her place to speak first. As though they sensed they shouldn’t intrude, Edith and Rosalyn wiggled their fingers at her and then busied themselves with picking up the used plastic cups the men had left behind. After Bishop Tom waved at Rebecca, he joined Ben with the last of the crewmen who were heading toward the café. Only Wyatt and That Woman remained in place, watching Rebecca take the last few steps toward them.
Wyatt’s lips lifted. “Rebecca, I’d like you to meet my sister, Vanessa Herriott,” he said simply. “Vanessa, this is Rebecca Oliveri, my website designer—and the light of my life.”
“Your sister?” Rebecca blurted out. Images of two entwined silhouettes and a sleek socialite in a red gown whirled in her mind as disbelief nearly choked her. “Why, of course that’s what I should’ve assumed when I saw her putting her arms around you last night,” she added with a cynical frown.
Vanessa laughed and jabbed Wyatt with her finger, as though the joke was on him. “Wyatt’s invited me to visit his new place a dozen times, and on the spur of the moment, I decided to see what the excitement was about,” she said in a husky voice. “Never dreamed I’d be driving him to the emergency room.”
Rebecca heard the words, but they still didn’t make sense. Vanessa’s voice and manner fit her socialite looks—and it didn’t help when she placed her arm around Wyatt’s waist.
“You bake a mean rhubarb crisp, Rebecca,” Wyatt put in, slipping his arm around Vanessa. “We managed to salvage some of it and enjoyed it with ice cream after we got back from the hospital in New Haven.”
What’s wrong with this picture? These two are acting like last night’s incident was a big joke—and they’re standing way too close for my comfort.
Rebecca took a step back, shaking her head. It was too late for her What would Mamma do? approach, because Mamma would surely be baffled—and suspicious—about the smiles on the two faces before her. Faces that resembled one another around the eyes and chins, she noticed.
“You—you never mentioned a sister,” Rebecca rasped after an uncomfortable silence had passed. “I’ve seen her on your website, all dressed up—”
“Photos from a charity Christmas ball we attended in Lexington,” Wyatt explained. “Vanessa is widowed, and I’m often at a loss for a date to attend such functions, so we go together.”
“Neither of us are all that wild about gala balls,” Vanessa added with a shrug that made her faceted belt shimmer. “But we figure if we’re expected to write a big donation check, we might as well go for dinner and drinks.” She elbowed Wyatt. “Nice job, not bothering to mention me. Maybe you deserved to have a pan of rhubarb crisp thrown in your face.”
Rebecca blinked. Vane
ssa seemed sincere—more down-to-earth than she appeared—and Wyatt displayed no signs of deception. Even though his arm remained around his sister, his blue-gray eyes held Rebecca’s gaze steadily, imploring her to believe his story.
Sometimes our eyes and ears fool us. We think we know what we see or hear, yet we don’t usually realize what remains unseen and unsaid.
As Mamma’s words rang in Rebecca’s memory, her shoulders relaxed. It occurred to her that Wyatt’s introduction had disarmed her fear and doubt before she’d had a chance to demand an explanation about the chic blonde who’d been wrapping her arms around him. The image still unsettled her, but maybe her imagination had rendered the scene more romantic than it really was.
“I’m sorry, Wyatt,” Rebecca murmured. She stepped up to him and gently turned his face to get a better look at the bandages—even though Vanessa remained in place, watching her. “It wasn’t my intention to burn you—”
“And I didn’t intend to burn you, either, dear heart,” he interrupted sadly. “I really should’ve told you I was bringing Vanessa back with me. What you saw last night must’ve looked awfully incriminating.”
“I travel a lot to oversee my late husband’s businesses,” Vanessa explained, “so on the rare occasions when Wyatt and I see each other, we hug a lot. We lost our parents when we were very young, and if it hadn’t been for Wyatt’s watching out for me, Lord only knows where I might’ve ended up.”
“Vanessa has agreed to manage my horse farms in New York and Lexington,” Wyatt added with a smile. “I’ve told her to do whatever she wants with them, because I’m devoting myself to this new venture in Willow Ridge. I’ll devote myself to you, too, Rebecca—if you’ll still have me.”
The intimate timbre of his voice and the look in his eyes melted her. When Rebecca leaned in to him, Wyatt wrapped his arms around her and hugged her close before seeking out her lips with his. The rest of the world disappeared as she got lost in his embrace—although she realized he was wooing her in front of Vanessa and whoever else happened to be around without any sign of embarrassment.
When she finally eased away from Wyatt, she realized that they were standing alone. Everyone else had seemingly found somewhere else to go.
“Vanessa couldn’t stand the heat,” he said with a chuckle. “She’s been very curious about you, knowing how finicky I am about women. I hope the two of you can become friends despite the awkward way you met.”
Rebecca smiled. “Mamma’s still expecting us for dinner tomorrow, so I’ll tell her to set a place for Vanessa, too,” she said. “It won’t be a fancy meal, because Amish women don’t cook much on Sundays. That’s considered work.”
Wyatt smiled. “No matter what’s on the table, we’ll be delighted to come. I think it’s fabulous that Amish women don’t spend all day fussing over a Sunday dinner that gets eaten in a matter of minutes.”
Rebecca nodded. “They have the right idea about Sunday being a day of rest. And if your sister gets a taste of Mamma’s hospitality—our family’s happiness when we’re all together,” she added brightly, “maybe she’ll feel better about you leaving your other life to settle here.”
“I’ll tell her to wear something other than those shorts,” he said with a wink. “Vanessa has had some serious doubts about my Willow Ridge adventure—but you know what? Although her opinion matters to me, she doesn’t control what I do.”
Rebecca glanced away, grinning. “You could say the same thing about me, right?”
Wyatt laughed and wrapped his arm around her. “You have more control over me than you know, sweet lady. Why not drive me over to your mom’s place, and we’ll tell her we’ll definitely be there for dinner tomorrow. All the draft horses in Willow Ridge couldn’t keep me away.”
Rebecca laughed as they walked toward her car. Mamma’s not going to believe the way this turned out.
Chapter Twenty-Five
As Loretta helped her sisters set the table for the noon meal on Sunday, it felt good to be working together in Edith’s large, sunshine yellow kitchen. Leroy and Louisa faced each other in windup swing sets at one end of the room, laughing and kicking as their swing seats nearly touched when they moved toward each other. They were such happy, beautiful children, and Loretta dreamed of having her own laughing babies someday soon.
And every time she looked at the beautiful table and chairs Asa had bought for Edith, Loretta secretly hoped that someday she would be setting such a fine table of her own—even though she had decided to delay the day when she and Drew would settle in their own place.
“When Drew and I announce our wedding date today,” she said softly, “we’ll also be telling Dat that we plan to live at home for a while. I didn’t want you to be surprised when we said that.”
Edith and Rosalyn immediately came to stand on either side of her so Dat wouldn’t overhear them as he sat in the front room talking with Drew and Asa.
Edith’s brow furrowed. “But Loretta, ever since we were wee girls, you’ve dreamed of the time when you could move out with your husband,” she pointed out with a puzzled frown. “You’ve always been more . . . challenged by Dat’s moods than Rosalyn and I.”
“And that day you stood up to Dat, saying you wished we could live in a happy, peaceful home again,” Rosalyn recalled. “I had my doubts about that wish ever coming true—much as I hoped it would. I can’t imagine Drew really wants to start married life down the hall from his crotchety, cranky father-in-law.”
“This is your chance for happiness, Loretta,” Edith insisted. “I think you should have a place of your own, if that’s possible.”
Loretta wrapped her arms around her sisters, loving the way they were sticking up for her—and saying exactly what she’d expected. As they stood in their huddle, she realized how different their lives had become since Edith had moved across the road, and she knew that her marrying Drew would change the family dynamic yet again.
“Drew and I have talked about this, and he’s willing to live wherever I want to be,” she said, glancing first at Edith and then at Rosalyn. “I want to live with you, Rosalyn. I can’t think our home will ever be happy knowing you have to deal with Dat all by yourself—not to mention tending the garden and the chickens, and delivering the eggs to Luke, and—”
Rosalyn waved her off. “That’s not a very daughterly sentiment, Loretta,” she said with a rueful smile. “I’ve known ever since you and Drew started dating that I would someday be the last one of us to live at home. Don’t you think Mamm would’ve wanted one of us to look after Dat?”
“No!” Edith whispered quickly. “She would’ve expected Dat to get on with his life and find another wife, rather than having one of her girls forfeit having a family of her own.” She glanced away, as though appealing to Mamm for help expressing her thoughts. “As I get older, I suspect Mamm sacrificed her happiness to keep peace in the family—to keep Dat from losing his temper—more often than we realized.”
Loretta sighed. It made her sad to think their mother hadn’t lived long enough to see any of her girls married—and it bothered her that Edith had stated a truth they didn’t often discuss. Their mother had constantly acted as a buffer between them and Dat’s moods or changed her plans so Dat’s temper wouldn’t ruin everyone’s day. In the end, Dat usually got his way because the women in his life had been taught to obey him.
“Loretta does have a point, though,” Edith said after a few moments. “I can’t imagine being the last daughter at home, trying to measure up to Dat’s idealized memories of Mamm. And with this mysterious money trouble he’s gotten into, I suspect he’ll only get crankier as time goes by.”
“Drew and Asa will stand with us,” Loretta said with a nod, “but we girls have to stick together on this, no matter what comes of the trouble he’s gotten into. Things between him and Bishop Tom may get worse before they get better.”
Rosalyn glanced toward the front room. “I wish we knew exactly what he’s done so—”
Dat burs
t through the doorway, glaring at them. “Are we ever going to eat, or are you three going to spend the day whispering in the kitchen?”
Loretta’s pulse raced. Had he been listening at the doorway? Or was he just edgy? She glanced at the clock on Edith’s wall. “It’s only eleven thirty, Dat, so—”
“What’s so hard about putting cold, already prepared food on the table?” he demanded stiffly. “Are you so inflexible that we can’t eat earlier?”
The sisters exchanged a guarded gaze. “I’ll pour the water,” Rosalyn murmured as she headed toward the refrigerator.
Loretta hesitated to confront her father, but she was tired of biting her tongue. “You know, Dat, when we’re at Edith’s house, she’s the one to decide when we’ll—”
“Edith knows better than to keep her dat waiting,” he countered smugly.
Edith crossed her arms, which were trembling slightly. “We’ll eat in ten minutes,” she announced in a taut voice. “We have some important matters to discuss today, Dat, so please figure on staying with us for a while instead of hurrying home to—”
Drew’s timely arrival in the kitchen made them all look toward the doorway. “Say, Cornelius, did I see Bishop Tom carrying something long and white away from your place a couple of days ago?” he asked as Asa came in behind him.
“Jah, Drew and I thought it looked like one of those fancy air conditioners that fastens to the wall instead of being hung in a window,” Asa remarked with a purposeful smile.
Dat’s face turned as red as a raw steak. “What business of yours is—how would you know anything about—?” he blustered. “How do you get any work done if you’re constantly spying on me?”
“If the bishop confiscated an air conditioner because you wouldn’t take it off your shop wall,” Drew said breezily, “there’s no reason for you to hurry home—especially on Sunday—ain’t so? We’ve got wedding plans to make!”
A Simple Wish Page 22