A fleeting look of irritation passed across Timothy’s typically mild face as he helped me down from the platform.
The man eyed me. “Who are you?”
“I’m Chloe Humphrey.” I held out my hand to him, but he didn’t take it. I let it drop to my side.
“What are you doing on my job site? This isn’t a playground,” the man barked. He eyed me. “Or a courting buggy.”
My face flushed. I knew it was the same shade of red as my hair.
“Relax, Ezekiel.” Timothy stepped between us. “I was showing Chloe around. We’re here for the workmen’s dinner.”
Ezekiel glared at him, his dark brown eyes magnified by his glasses. “That meal is meant for the workmen and their families. Is she a member of your family?”
“She’s a close family friend.”
Ezekiel’s eyes narrowed. “No one is allowed on the job site after work hours—especially a close family friend.”
A muscle in Timothy’s jaw twitched. “It’s my mistake.”
“Don’t let it happen again. My mother might like you and have convinced me to give you a chance, but there are plenty of other contractors in this county who can do your job. I don’t want to have to find a third contractor for this job.” Ezekiel disappeared through the plastic sheeting.
I gawked at Timothy. “Who was that?”
Timothy steadied himself. “Ezekiel Young.”
“Young?”
He nodded. “He’s Ellie’s son.”
“What did he mean by a third contractor?”
Timothy shook his head, clearly not wanting to talk about it. “Come on, let’s go to the restaurant.”
As I followed him out of the pavilion, disappointment washed over me. The moment we’d had, or I’d thought we’d had, was gone.
Chapter Five
Ellie stood by the front door of the restaurant and looked every inch the Amish matron of the house. She wore a long, simple navy dress, a black apron with YOUNG’S FAMILY KITCHEN embroidered in white on the right pocket, and a white prayer cap over her gray, coiled hair. She placed her hands on her hips. “Where have the two of you been? Becky walked in here over twenty minutes ago.” She examined each of us in turn. “I hope there’s nothing going on I should know about.”
Timothy removed his coat and scarf. “Nothing at all.”
“Humph,” Ellie said in return. Behind her, the gift and pie shops, which took up the front third of the building, were dark. Beyond the shops, the lights glowed in the dining room, and workmen and their families sat in sturdy oak chairs around white cloth-covered tables. “You shouldn’t have taken so long, Timothy. As the general contractor you are the man of the hour.”
Timothy mumbled an apology.
Ellie grunted acceptance. “The meal will be buffet style, so I hope that suits everyone. Being it’s Sunday, my servers are off for the Sabbath.”
I removed my gloves and stuck them into my coat pocket. Timothy took my coat and carried it over with his to the pegs on the wall.
“Good to see you again, Chloe. Staying out of trouble?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Ellie lowered one of her thick, gray eyebrows. “My son stormed through here a few minutes ago complaining Timothy had a girl in one of the pavilions. I figured it was you.”
I ran a hand through my hair, trying to tame the static electricity my winter hat created. “Timothy showed me around the pavilions. He’s so proud of the project and that your family gave him this opportunity to begin his contracting business.”
The minuscule dimple on Ellie’s left cheek appeared. “There’s been a lot of talk in the district lately about you and Timothy.”
“What about?” I gave up trying to fix my hair.
“Some folks say that you’re courting. Are you?”
Were we? It wasn’t a question I had the answer to.
I didn’t know what to say. Ellie must have recognized my deer-in-the-headlights look because she changed the subject. “You should ignore Ezekiel. He can be,” she paused as if searching for the right word, “testy.”
Becky headed our way from the dining room. She reached us in time to hear Ellie’s last comment. “Why’s that?”
Ellie pursed her lips. “I don’t rightly know, but the boy has been behaving strangely.”
Becky’s eyes widened. “He seems to be the same as always to me. Grumpy as an old raccoon.”
Ellie shook her head as if Ezekiel’s grumpiness wasn’t the issue.
“Do you want me to help with anything?” Becky asked. “I can go around and refill water glasses. I feel kind of silly standing around not doing anything when I’m usually one of the girls waiting tables.”
“No, it’s Sunday. I won’t ask any of my staff to work on the Lord’s Day. This is a special thank-you to the workers. You’re a guest of your bruder’s tonight.”
Until she completed her one thousand hours of community service, Becky’s work as a waitress at Young’s Family Kitchen was on a part-time basis. I knew she’d like to work full-time to earn more money for English clothes, art supplies, and celebrity cookbooks, so the sooner she finished her hours the better. Becky enjoyed working at Young’s and was comfortable there, having known Ellie and her family all her life. The biggest challenge was getting to and from work each day.
Becky wasn’t able to drive nor was she allowed to learn—a stipulation set down by the court after the accident. Young’s was four miles from Appleseed Creek, so Becky rode her bike to work most days. Occasionally, she talked Timothy or me into giving her a ride, and I imagined when the roads were icy during the winter, one or both of us would have to chauffer. Perhaps she’d find a job in town by then.
Timothy returned. “I’m starved.”
This made Ellie smile. There was nothing she loved more than feeding people. “Gut. I saved your family’s usual table by the window overlooking the crop fields. Not much to look at outside the window this time of year.” She frowned. “I’d hoped you would bring your grossdaddi today.”
Becky hid a smile. The Troyer children suspected Ellie had a crush on Grandfather Zook. Considering Ellie’s comment, they might be right.
Timothy kept a straight face. “Grossdaddi hasn’t been feeling well. This time of year his post-polio syndrome acts up. The colder weather bothers his legs and joints.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. I’ll make him some of my famous chicken and dumpling soup and stop by the farm this week.” She removed a scrap of paper and a stub of pencil from her apron pocket and made a note on it.
Becky had to turn away so that Ellie didn’t see her face. Ellie gave her a beady glare. “I saw that smirk. Now, get in there before I have a mind to give your seats away to a more appreciative group of kinner.” She marched in the direction of the kitchen.
Becky grinned from ear to ear. “I can’t wait to tell Grossdaddi Ellie Young asked about him.”
Timothy tugged on her braid. “You shouldn’t tease your grossdaddi.”
Becky rolled her eyes. “It’s not like he doesn’t tease us.”
Inside the dining room I was relieved the meal was buffet style, so I could control my portions. Since moving to Appleseed Creek, I’d gained eight pounds and was on a diet, not an easy task going into the holidays in Amish Country. I finally begged Becky to stop cooking for me. If she had her way, I would eat four-course meals three times a day. A diet like that might work fine for her since she was on her feet waitressing most of the day, but I work ten-hour days at a desk behind a computer screen. The extra treats Becky snuck into my lunch began to add up.
Becky and her brother piled their plates high with roast beef, fried chicken, and sliced ham. I sighed and stuck to the salad bar. What I wouldn’t give for their metabolism.
Even at the salad bar, I pondered eve
ry calorie and steered clear of the Amish potato salad and coleslaw. Both had enough sugar in them to set me back a week. By the time I got to the table, Becky and Timothy were already seated and eating along with Hannah Hilty’s parents. As I approached the table, conversation ceased, and my appetite disappeared. Seeing the Hiltys was one way to stick to my diet. Beth Hilty was an older version of her daughter. Her husband John had deep-set eyes and was perpetually tanned from a lifetime of working outside. John was Timothy’s mentor. He was the person who gave Timothy a job and asked him to attend the Mennonite church after Timothy decided to leave the Amish.
I slipped into the empty bent paddle chair at the round table. “Hello,” I murmured.
Beth nodded at me but said nothing.
A confused look passed over Timothy’s face. “You both know Chloe from church, don’t you?”
Beth Hilty patted a napkin to her mouth. “Yes. Hannah has mentioned her.”
My heart sank. I could only guess what Hannah had said to her parents about me.
“Is Hannah here?” I hoped that my reluctance to see Hannah didn’t show in my voice.
“No, she is not.” Hannah’s mother cut her ham slice into tiny pieces. “She’s volunteering at the church this evening, heading up the Thanksgiving can drive. Hannah does a lot of volunteer work for the church.”
So she looks more attractive to Timothy. The snarky thought flashed across my mind, but I didn’t regret it. My interaction with Hannah had been minimal, but I doubted the brunette beauty did anything without an ulterior motive.
John cleared his throat. “I’m glad to see you on this job, Timothy. To be the lead contractor on this project is a boost to your career. By the end of it, you will have more work than you know what to do with.”
Timothy took a sip of water. “It’s gone well.”
“Ezekiel Young can be a tough man to work for,” John said. “How has he been for you?”
A dark cloud passed over Timothy’s face, but he didn’t say anything.
John nodded as if Timothy’s silence was answer enough. “Ezekiel and I have worked together before. His personality can be . . .” John paused. “Challenging.”
Beth swallowed a delicate bite. “John was the one who built the original pavilions.”
John laughed. “That was ages ago. I’m happy Timothy got this job.”
“What are you doing on this project, Mr. Hilty?” Becky asked.
“Nothing too much. One of my subcontractors is installing the electrical. Even though I’m not doing the hands-on work, Ellie insisted on inviting Beth and me.” The laugh lines around his eyes appeared. “I wasn’t about to turn down a free piece of pie, and I think Beth was happy for a break from the kitchen.”
Beth narrowed her eyes at her husband before turning to me. “Chloe, what is it that you do?”
A bit of carrot lodged in my throat. I took a gulp of water to push it down. “I’m the Director of Computer Services at Harshberger College.”
“That’s a good school. It does a lot for the town.” John forked a bite of roast beef. “Do you like it?”
I nodded and reached for a piece of bread, hoping that would push the carrot down my throat. Carbohydrates didn’t count when you risked choking to death.
Beth speared a potato with such force I felt bad for the potato and her fork. “Hannah is a classroom aid for the kindergarten class. She loves children. I’m sure she will make the perfect mother. She plans to homeschool her children.” She took a sip of water, appraising me over the top of her glass. “I believe that’s the best way to educate children. Do you have much experience with children?”
The carrot wouldn’t budge. “No,” I squeaked. “I mean not as much as Hannah. I have a younger brother and sister, but I don’t see them often. They live in California.”
Beth sniffed. “Will you homeschool?”
I nearly dropped my fork. “Homeschool what?”
“Your children.”
Children? What children? I’m only twenty-four.
I drank more water and shot Becky a pleading look.
“I’ve been working with the after-school art program since September,” Becky chimed in. “The kids have been great.”
Beth tucked her napkin under the side of her plate. “The children who attend those extra programs aren’t the troublemakers who worry me. Believe me, you should hear some of the stories Hannah tells. They will raise the hair on the back of your neck.”
I’m sure anything that Hannah says to me will do that.
Beth wouldn’t give up that easily. “How do you feel about homeschooling?”
“I never thought about it before. I guess it would depend on where I was in my career—”
“You think your career is more important than your children?”
You mean my fictitious children. I started to cough. The carrot wasn’t going anywhere, and my water glass was empty.
John shook his head. “Beth, leave the poor girl alone.”
Beth stabbed another potato so hard her fork scratched the porcelain dish. “It’s something everyone should think about before they have children.” She leveled her gaze at me. “Or before they even think about having children.”
Who’s thinking about having children? I started coughing again.
Becky pounded my back. “Chloe, are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I managed to croak, holding up my glass. “I need something more to drink.”
Timothy half-rose from his seat, and I waved him back down. “No, no, I can get it.” I hurried away from the table clutching my glass.
There was a beverage table beside the buffet. I filled my glass to the brim with water from the pitcher and guzzled it down.
“Thirsty?” A deep voice spoke into my ear as I refilled my second glass.
I spun around and splashed Ezekiel Young in the chest with water. “I’m so sorry!”
“No harm done.” His dark brown eyes twinkled. His glasses were off, but there was no mistaking it was him.
He took my glass and refilled it from the pitcher before handing it back to me.
“Thank you.” I blinked. “I’m sorry about earlier at the worksite. Timothy was only showing me around.”
He raised one of his eyebrows. “Earlier at the worksite? Wasn’t me. I think I would remember meeting you.”
I blushed but wondered how he could have forgotten so quickly. And why is he being so nice? He may even be flirting with me.
An amused twinkle played in his eyes as he watched these thoughts move across my face.
Ellie stomped over to us, hands on hips. “Uriah, what are you doing standing out here? I need you to carry some more trays of food to the buffet.”
I tilted my head and looked at him. “I thought your name was Ezekiel.”
Uriah grinned.
Ellie rolled her eyes. “Ezekiel is his twin brother.” She scanned the room. “I can’t find him either. Lately, he keeps disappearing. Uri, do you know where your brother is?”
He shook his. “Nope.”
“I wish you’d keep better track of him.”
“Am I his keeper?”
“Yes.” She swatted at him, and he ducked away laughing.
“The twins are both bent on giving me a headache, each in his own special way.”
Twins!
“Do they work here?”
“They co-own the restaurant and flea market with me. Ezekiel runs most things. Uri, well, Uri doesn’t have much of a mind for business.”
“Do your other children work here too?”
She shook her head. “I have four daughters. All are married and have families of their own. Neither of my boys has found the right girl to marry yet.”
The twins had to be in their early thirt
ies. As far as marriage goes, that was late by Amish standards. If Timothy never left the Amish, he certainly would have been married by now at age twenty-seven. Maybe the same was true for the Mennonites, and that was why Beth Hilty was so adamant I decide the educational path of my nonexistent offspring. At twenty-four maybe she considered me an old maid. Hannah was only two years younger than me, and Beth seemed eager to marry her eldest daughter off. I suspected who the groom would be if it were up to her and Hannah.
Ellie narrowed her eyes. “Is something wrong?”
I refilled my water glass and smiled. “No. I’m fine.”
“If you say so. I need to get back to the kitchen. Don’t pay any mind to the twins.”
I promised I wouldn’t and returned to my table with my water glass in hand. Becky was in the middle of describing her art classes to the Hiltys.
As I took my seat, Timothy whispered in my ear. “I see you had a run-in with Uri Young.”
I nodded. “Why didn’t you tell me Ezekiel Young had an identical twin brother?”
He shrugged. “I didn’t think of it. Ezekiel wears glasses and Uri doesn’t. Besides, they’re easy to tell apart by their personalities. The twins couldn’t be more different.”
I agreed that much was true.
Chapter Six
I woke up to screams. My heart pounded in my chest. It didn’t matter how many times I heard those cries, they always shook me. The illuminated numbers of my bedside clock read 1:04 a.m. A scream came again, and I jumped out of bed. The icy hardwood floor sent a chill up my pajama-covered legs. I stumbled into my slippers and grabbed one of the blankets off of the bed. I wrapped it around my shoulders as another scream disturbed the quiet.
In the hallway, Gigabyte’s sleek shadow moved back and forth in front of Becky’s door. He hissed softly. He was no more used to these episodes, which were becoming alarmingly more frequent, than I was.
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