“That old couch?”
“Doesn’t look that old.”
“It was somebody’s who didn’t need it anymore. You know how it is with Plain people. We rarely throw things away.”
He clomped into the kitchen, turned and looked at her with his mouth slightly ajar, then strode to the pantry and jerked the door open. Becca knew what he was going to see. She’d helped to stock the shelves. Rows and rows of canned goods that people had donated from their own harvest, plus paper goods and staples they’d purchased with money from the benevolence fund.
“This is terrible.”
“What? That you can eat something besides oatmeal?”
Daniel sank into a chair at the table he hadn’t owned before he was sick. “I knew they were going to rebuild the place, and I didn’t see a way to stop them.”
“Why would you?”
“But they’ve furnished it, given me enough food to see me through the winter...”
“You’ll still need meat, fresh eggs and dairy.” Becca opened the refrigerator and scanned it, then removed a small pitcher of milk. She set the kettle on the used stove that had been placed in the corner of the kitchen. “There’s only enough for a couple of weeks.”
Daniel’s reply was a groan. When she glanced over at him, he was sitting at the table with his head in his hands.
“This tea will fix you right up. You’re probably just tired.”
“You don’t get it. You don’t understand.”
She sat across from him. “Then explain it to me. Why is all of this bad?”
“Because they’re giving out of what they don’t have.”
“Many in our community have more than enough.”
“And many don’t.” Daniel scrubbed his hands over his face, then finally looked at her. “Many don’t, and they’ve given part of what little they have to me. That’s not right because I—”
He stopped midsentence, a pained expression on his face.
“What? You had nothing here, Daniel—except your horse and your sleeping bag and your journal. People wanted to help from day one, but you wouldn’t let them. It took your coming down with the flu before you’d accept help. Now don’t ruin it by letting your pride become involved.”
“It’s not pride.”
“What is it then?”
“I can’t... I can’t explain why this is such a terrible thing, Becca. Just trust me. I should not have accepted this much help.”
She stared at him a moment, waited until he raised those beautiful brown eyes to hers. When he did, she smiled, ducked her head and gave him a pointed look. “You can’t take any of it back, so I suggest you get used to the new Daniel Glick homestead and learn to say thank you. That’s all people expect.”
“That’s it? That’s your advice? Say thank you?”
“Uh-huh. Oh, and be ready to jump in when they need help, because that’s what neighbors do.”
The kettle whistled, and she hopped up to fix his tea. In truth, Daniel’s house only held minimal furniture now. Yes, he had a bed, a couch, an old patched recliner and a table with seating for four. He had a new roof, new siding, tight window frames and a porch where he wouldn’t break his legs. He had a used propane stove and refrigerator, and when he finally made it to the mudroom, he’d see a nearly archaic wringer washing machine.
He had the minimum, but you’d think by the look on his face that people had furnished his place for an Englisch magazine photo op. She didn’t understand that. She didn’t understand his need to live so sparsely.
He seemed to be stuck on the fact that he was poor.
Her family was poor, too, but they didn’t mind having food and clothing and a furnished home.
Men were a mystery to her, and Daniel Glick? Daniel was a paradox. For a guy who carried around a book and filled it with words of wisdom, she thought he had a lot of learning to do.
Chapter Eight
The next week and a half passed in a blur. Daniel went to town as soon as he felt strong enough, withdrew more money and gave it to Bishop Saul.
The good bishop simply patted him on the shoulder and assured him that he would “see it went into the benevolence fund—another anonymous donation.”
On the Sunday after he moved back home, he stood up at the church meeting and thanked everyone. It was both harder and easier than he’d expected. Harder because it had been a long time since he had felt anything resembling kinship to other people. Easier because the response was laughter, cries of “We’ll call you when our harvest is ready,” and murmurs that at least now he could begin courting without fear of scaring off the woman.
But he had no intentions of courting.
He set himself to the work of a farmer in winter—mending fences, buying and transporting hay for Constance, and ordering seed for the spring. The first snowfall brought over a foot of white powder, and he found an old, tattered horse blanket in the loft of the barn for his mare. She tossed her head when he put it on her, but when he released her into the field it appeared she had forgiven him.
The Schwartz brood came by with sleds and insisted he accompany them to the top of a small hill at the back of the property. There was only a foot of snow on the ground, and the hill wasn’t that large, but you’d have thought they were at a famous ski resort the way they carried on. He didn’t think Becca could look prettier. Wrapped in what must have been her bruder’s coat, well-worn mittens, a bonnet and a scarf, she looked like a snow princess to him.
It was while they were having hot chocolate at his place, all seven of her younger siblings spread out on the living room couch and floor, that he realized she was up to something.
He tugged her arm and pulled her into the kitchen.
“What are you doing?”
“What do you mean what am I doing?”
“You were texting someone on Francine’s phone. How does Francine even have a phone?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but it’s not her phone. It’s her friend’s phone. You know she thinks she’s on her rumspringa.”
“She’s only twelve.”
“I know that. Go speak to her about it if you dare. As to who or why I was texting on it, I don’t want to talk about that with you.”
He scowled at her, but it did nothing to intimidate her into confessing.
Before they left, he tried talking to Clyde and David.
“Don’t know,” Clyde admitted. “Another one of her get-less-poor plans.”
David wrapped his scarf tightly around his neck. “She’s still a bit put out that Carl-the-bad-tempered-rooster hasn’t brought any new baby chicks. Seems the hens are hiding from him.”
“He’s a nice-looking Brahma, though.” Clyde ran a hand up and down his jawline, attempting to look serious and thoughtful. “Maybe we can roast him for Thanksgiving.”
The two bruders high-fived, then turned to trudge off after their schweschdern. Daniel couldn’t have explained what he did next—it was pure instinct. He jogged after the group and motioned Clyde toward his barn.
“Has she asked you to let her use the buggy? What I mean is, has she asked you not to take it to work?”
Clyde had been working for a big Amish farm across town—the owners were actually in another church district, but they paid well, and he was still saving for his own buggy.
“Actually, ya. She said she could take me to work tomorrow, use the buggy and then pick me back up in the afternoon.”
“Is that unusual?”
“Can’t remember her doing it before.”
“So it has to do with this new plan?”
“It could. Why? Is that a problem?”
Becca had never told her family about the CBD plants. Something told him that this might be like that. Getting in over her head again. Not that Becca Schwartz needed him to follow her around and pro
tect her. But they were friends, right? What was it she had said standing in his kitchen? Be ready to jump in when they need help, because that’s what neighbors do.
That was exactly what he was going to do then—jump in and help.
“Go ahead and take your buggy. I’ll give her a ride to town.”
“You’re sure?”
“Absolutely. I need to run some errands anyway.”
“Sounds gut to me. I’ll let her know.”
Daniel was glad he wouldn’t be there when Clyde shared the change in plans. He was pretty sure that whatever Becca was doing in town, she did not want her family to know about it.
That thought was confirmed an hour later when she came barging into the barn.
“What is your problem?” Her bonnet was askew, she was only wearing one mitten, and she’d forgotten to button her coat.
Daniel had been in the middle of giving Constance her daily brush-down. He turned back toward the horse and resumed his work. “Wasn’t aware I had one.”
“Why did you tell Clyde you’d take me to town?”
“Because neighbors help each other. Remember?”
She tried pinning him with an aggravated look. When he didn’t jump to the bait, she picked up the horse comb, walked over and commenced combing out Constance’s mane.
“Why are you doing that?”
“I’m helping. That’s what neighbors do.”
“Ya, but Constance and I were doing just fine without your help.” He was hoping to aggravate her, to provoke her into stepping away—or even better, leaving his barn altogether. Their barn. It was their barn. He had to keep reminding himself of that. Regardless, Becca looked too adorable to be standing so close to him. He moved to the other side of the mare.
“I understand.” She leaned forward and smelled the mare’s neck, then glanced over at him. “I was doing fine without your help. So why did you stick your nose into my affairs?”
“Because you’re up to something.”
“I have no idea know what you mean.”
“It’s another get-rich scheme. Isn’t it?”
“I don’t want to be rich. I just want to be less poor.”
“Haven’t you outgrown this absurd idea? Didn’t the hemp plants teach you anything?”
“They taught me to be more careful.” She raised her chin a fraction of an inch. “This is completely aboveboard.”
“Oh, is it?”
“Uh-huh. I have the man’s business card and everything. I even checked out his website.”
“Business card? Website? Are you listening to yourself? You sound like a youngie.”
“Look, Daniel. I know you can’t understand this because you’re living over here all by yourself, but I have a family—a very large family. Plus, Christmas is coming, and I want to be able to give them nice things. Is that so wrong?”
“It is if you’re going to get yourself in trouble.”
“I won’t get in trouble.”
They were glaring at each other over Constance’s back, and the mare nodded her head as if to say, go on...
“Tell me what you’re doing, and if it doesn’t sound dangerous, I’ll let you borrow Constance and my buggy and go by yourself.”
“I do not need your permission to go to town alone.”
“Of course not.”
“But it would be convenient to use your horse and buggy.”
“Exactly.”
“Fine.” She put the comb back on the shelf, then walked over to stand next to him. Pulling a piece of paper from her pocket, she unfolded it and pushed it into his hands.
“What is this?” Daniel’s thoughts scrambled as he stared down at the sheet of paper. It showed a picture of an Amish woman with two small children walking away from the camera. There was the slightest indication that the woman was about to look back over her shoulder and smile at the person taking the photograph.
As he read the words below the picture, he thought his head might pop right off his shoulders.
Plain & Simple Glamour Shots
Tastefully Done
Earn extra money for your farm, family or community
“Tell me you are not going to do this.”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Because we don’t pose for pictures.”
“Look. It says right here, Tastefully Done. When I checked the web page, there were quite a few testimonials from women saying they’d worked for two to three hours and earned plenty of extra money.”
“Becca, look at me.”
She reluctantly raised her eyes to his.
“Don’t do this. You can’t believe this piece of paper or that website. Anyone could make up those things.”
“But why would they? See, I’ve thought of that, but why would they make it up? There’s no reason to. They simply want photographs for their magazines, and since it never shows our face, and we’re even allowed to wear Plain clothing... Well, what’s the harm?”
Daniel handed the sheet of paper back to her, but instead of resuming the work with Constance, he walked out of the stall into the main room of the barn. He was very aware that if he said the wrong thing, Becca would go off and do what she wanted to do. She wanted to believe this was legitimate. Maybe it was. Who could say?
But a warning alarm in his heart told him it could be dangerous.
Finally, he turned toward her. “Let me go with you.”
“What?”
“Let me go with you. When are you supposed to meet him?”
“Tomorrow, but I don’t need you with me.”
“What time?”
“None of your business.”
“Let me go with you, and if everything seems legit, then I’ll go wait for you in the buggy.”
“In the cold? You’re going to wait in the buggy in the cold for hours?”
“Sure.”
“Ridiculous. You’d probably end up sick again. Plus, there’s no reason for you to do such a thing. You could simply wait on the other side of the coffee shop.”
“That’s where you’re meeting? Which coffee shop?”
“The Kitchen Cupboard, in Davis Mercantile, but I don’t need someone watching over me, Daniel. I’m a grown woman.”
“Oh, ya.” He rubbed his chin, then shot a hopefully serious look her way. “But I need some supplies in town, and I do love a gut cup of coffee.”
He thought she’d be offended.
He expected her to storm away after forbidding him to come.
Instead, she walked over to where he was, standing close enough that he took a step back and bumped into the wall.
“You’re worried about me.”
“Well, you know. Neighbors...”
“Helping neighbors. I heard you before, but this is different. Are you getting sweet on me, Daniel?”
He crossed his arms and scowled at her. “Stop it.”
“What? A girl has a right to be flattered.”
So that was her plan. She’d embarrass him, and then he’d call it off. Only he wasn’t falling for that. He was going to stay focused on the objective, which was to see Becca safely through another crazy scheme.
“What if I am, Becca? Are you interested?” Now he stepped toward her, only she didn’t back away as he’d expected. Instead, she looked up at him, laughter in her eyes.
“We’ll continue this conversation tomorrow after my meeting.”
“Sure. Okay.”
“After you see that I am a capable, independent woman who doesn’t need to be looked after.”
There was that spunk he was expecting to hear from her.
“But I have to say, I’m flattered that you care so much.”
More bait. He wasn’t going to respond. She was almost to the door, when he thought to call out to her. “What ti
me should I pick you up?”
“Nine o’clock sharp.”
With a backward wave of her hand, she was gone, leaving Daniel to wonder what he’d just gotten himself into.
* * *
The next morning, Becca stood staring at her four dresses. She wanted to wear her best dress to town, but she knew that would make her mamm suspicious. She only wore that dress on church Sundays. Best to wear her second-best and avoid the scrutiny. She did take a little extra time with her hair and kapp, not that the man would be photographing her today, and besides, it would only be from the back when he did start taking pictures.
Still, she’d like to look her best. So she made sure that her hair was braided nicely and tucked into her kapp except for a soft fringe around her face. She didn’t have any makeup, had never had much of a rumspringa herself. She momentarily thought about checking with Francine to see if she had any blush or powder or lip gloss, but that would only be encouraging her schweschder’s rebellious ways.
“It is what it is,” she murmured to the small mirror, then hurried downstairs.
Her mamm was too busy with Thanksgiving preparations to notice that Becca was up to something.
“You’re sure you don’t mind getting all these supplies for me while you’re in town?”
Becca stared down at the long list in surprise. Her mamm wanted all these things? Were they feeding their family or the entire neighborhood? And where had the money come from? As if reading her mind, her mamm pressed a wad of bills into her hand. “Clyde’s been helping out and your dat was paid for his work over at the factory. Gotte provides, Becca.”
“Yes, he does,” she said, but what she was thinking was that Gotte provided for those who worked. Didn’t it say that somewhere in the Bible? She’d have to ask the bishop next time she saw him. Regardless, she planned to contribute some to the holiday meal herself, or if she didn’t have any money that soon, she could at least help purchase Christmas gifts for her siblings.
Her thoughts were focused on that as she helped with breakfast, scooting everyone off to school and cleaning up the kitchen. She was surprised when she heard the clatter of buggy wheels and realized Daniel was there.
The Amish Christmas Secret Page 11