The puppy yelped, wanting inside.
A half smile of understanding tugged at Cara’s lips. “Better Days is yapping to get in. I think you should be the one to open the door.”
She couldn’t know what was going on between him and his people, but she’d picked up on his stress. He drew a relaxing breath. If she could lose everything over and over again, surely he could stand the trial of being shunned for a season without carrying it on his sleeve.
He let the dog in. Then he stepped to the doorway of the storage room. She’d cleaned the whole thing. “Amazing.”
“Yep, that’s me,” she teased, then pointed to rows of boxes along one wall. “You’ll need to go through those, because most of it looks like junk. I’ve sorted the rest and labeled each box.”
He looked through some of the possible rubbish bins. Old shoes, rusted lamps, and broken stuff. “Hey, this is definitely not trash.”
She shrugged. “You still milk cows?”
He laughed, and for the first time in days, stress drained from him. “This has nothing to do with storing fresh milk. Although I guess I can see why you might think so.” He lifted a silver cylinder. “This is an icecream maker, a hand-crank one.”
“Yeah? When’s the last time you used it?”
“Oh no. We’re not cleaning out this room based on a woman’s point of view. It’s my stuff, and it stays if I say so.”
“I’m beginning to see why you’re still single. Women don’t take too kindly to the my way or the highway approach, you know” She shoved a sealed box onto the shelf. “Do people actually make ice cream at home? Or is that one of those things you bought ‘As Seen on TV,’ and it doesn’t really work?”
“Ice-cream makers work. And how do you suppose an Amish man would buy something As Seen on TV’?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Do they make a gas-, fire-, or kerosene-run television?”
Amusement stirred in him. “I’ll get all the right ingredients together and make some. Then you’ll see.”
“Ice cream, hand cranked by a man whose idea of an oven is fire in a hole? As long as I can just see it and not have to taste it, you have a deal.” Her golden brown eyes met his, calling him to enjoy the day and forget whatever weight demanded to be carried.
He longed to search the hidden regions of her heart and take his discovery into his own. Emotions pulled at him, causing feelings they shouldn’t. He hoped his motivations for helping her were as pure as he’d thought. They’d started out that way. And he needed his drive to help her to be based on godliness and that alone. Otherwise everyone’s greatest concern was rock solid.
And he was a fool.
Cara slid most of her breakfast into a bowl and set it aside. She’d take it to the mama dog later. Lori was sprawled on the living room floor, reading and playing with Better Days.
Ephraim was nowhere to be seen. He came each morning in time to drive them to work, showed up at the Howards’ each evening to bring them home, and stayed hidden in between. It’d been four days since that fateful church service, and except for eating a late dinner with Lori last night, he hadn’t joined them for a single meal.
He had a nice home with plenty of food, but in spite of his words, she knew they weren’t welcome here any longer. Since Sunday, when she’d accidentally interrupted the church service, she’d felt him pulling away.
As Ephraim took her to and from work, she’d seen people in their buggies, and they’d seen her. But the friendliest gesture she or Ephraim received was a nod. Like the smell of the musty barn clinging to her clothes, she carried the scent of their dislike throughout each day.
If that was how the rest of them felt, she could easily ignore it. But the opinions of his family and friends seemed to have affected Ephraim. Clearly her friendship with him was dying. She wished she could find a place of her own before he started resenting her.
Knowing they could have been good friends if things were different grieved her. Friendships were like food—each had its own taste, texture, and nutrients. She and Kendal were like a cheap dessert that shouldn’t be eaten often and at its best was only so-so.
But she’d valued Ephraim’s friendship like she’d valued food when starving.
After wiping off the kitchen table and drying her hands, she went into the bedroom. She peeled out of her jeans and sweater top and slid into the teal-colored dress, hating it more each time she had to wear it. She stuffed her dirty clothes into the book bag, planning to wash them at the Howards’ today. The constant use of the clothes they’d left New York in was causing them to fray quickly, but that only made the jeans more comfortable. This weekend she’d walk into town and buy Lori a couple of outfits.
Ephraim knocked, making Better Days start yapping. “You ladies ready?”
Cara slung the backpack on her shoulder and hurried out of the bedroom. “Yeah.” She grabbed the bowl of food. “Can we stop by the barn?”
Ephraim looked from the bowl in her hands to her.
Cara motioned for Lori to go on out to the buggy. Ephraim’s eyes didn’t budge from her as she headed out in front of him. “What?”
“Did you eat anything, or are you giving it all to the mutt?” He picked up Better Days and closed the door behind him.
“I had plenty.”
They climbed into the buggy, and he and Lori began talking about the book she was reading. When he slowed the horse near the barn, he turned to Cara. “I’ll feed the dog from now on. If you cook it, you eat it.”
Ire ran through her, and she jerked her backpack off, took money out of it, and threw it in his lap. “Here. Does that cover it?” Without glancing at him again, she climbed down and went into the barn. The mama dog wagged her tail. Cara knelt, calling to her while taking the foil off the bowl. “I brought you some scrambled eggs.”
About the time the dog was finished, the barn door squeaked open.
Ephraim loomed over her. “I don’t want your money. I want you to eat.”
She stood, realizing how short her five-foot-three stature must look to him. “Have some control issues, do you?”
“I have concern issues.” He took her hand and wrapped his thumb and index finger around her wrist. “You’re losing weight.”
She jerked away. “You have no idea what size I was before.”
“How did your jeans fit when you left New York?”
“What?”
“Going by Englischer style, I’d say they fit snug. Now they must be nearly a size too big. Eat, Cara. Okay? I’ll feed the stupid dog.”
Wondering if the words he said and the words she heard were anywhere near the same, she nodded. When she first met him, he seemed bossy and haughty, so maybe the way she listened was the issue.
“She’s not stupid.” The sentence made her sound like a spoiled child, and she regretted not staying silent.
“Fine.” He rolled his eyes. “I’ll feed the highly intelligent dog.”
“I’m not incapable, you know. I can take care of Lori and myself and even feed a stray dog here and there. I know it doesn’t look that way.”
“Mom, help!” Lori’s scream pierced the air, and they both took off running.
Ephraim’s horse, hitched to the rig, trotted into the street, following another horse and buggy. Lori sat on the driver’s bench, staring back at them, wide-eyed with fear. The two people in the first rig looked behind them. Their buggy seemed to slow, causing Ephraim’s horse to do the same.
Lori tried to make her way to the side of the buggy.
“No. Stay there,” Ephraim commanded as he ran toward the runaway horse and buggy. Cara tried to keep up with him, but she fell farther behind every second.
“Lori, grab the reins and pull back on them,” Ephraim instructed as he picked up speed. Cara couldn’t tell if her daughter was following his instructions. The rig in front of Ephraim’s slowed more, causing Ephraim’s horse to follow suit.
Ephraim passed his buggy. He lunged across the base of the horse’s
neck and grabbed the reins. Within a few seconds he stopped the horse.
The people in the other buggy slowed, almost stopping as they watched for a moment. When Ephraim gave a nod, they nodded in return and went on their way. Cara kept running for Ephraim’s rig. She could see Lori crying and Ephraim talking to her. She finally caught up and climbed into the buggy. She drew her daughter into her lap. “Why would the horse do that?”
Still breathing hard, Ephraim took a seat on the bench. “That was Mahlon’s rig. Just for fun my horse was trained to follow it. I guess I didn’t set the brake.”
“Why didn’t your friend stop?”
“He slowed his rig in a way that kept my horse from running into the back of his buggy.”
“Yeah?” She motioned toward the moving buggy. “And then he and your sister barely acknowledged us before they kept going.”
“Let it go, Cara.”
Frustrated but unwilling to argue, she rode in silence the rest of the way to the Howards’ place. When she climbed out of the buggy, she muttered a thank-you. He nodded and left.
Something weird was happening between her and Ephraim, but she had no idea what.
The hours passed quickly as she cooked and cleaned and washed clothes, but she still had no answers to her questions as her workday drew to a close.
“Cara,” Mr. Howard said when he came home, “we need to talk.” He pulled his billfold from his pocket. She studied each bill as he placed it in her hand. “You’ve been great. Wish we’d had you before I used up all my leave time during those first weeks of Ginny’s injury. You’ve gotten here earlier and stayed later than I dared ask of you. But we learned during her last appointment that her bone healed quicker than expected. I just spoke to her doctor’s office, and rather than a regular checkup visit tomorrow, she’ll have her hip cast removed. We’d love to keep you, but our budget says we can’t. As much as we hate it, we’ll have to make do on our own.”
It was odd the way disappointment stung every single time it happened. “You don’t know anybody else who needs help, do you? I can do almost anything with a little practice.”
“No, not that I know of.” He shoved his wallet into his pants pocket.
“Okay.”
Lori was in the side yard, playing with dolls under a shade tree. When Cara went to get her so they could give Mrs. Howard a proper good-bye, she spotted something she’d noticed twice already this week—a horse and wagon a few hundred feet away with one of the middle-aged men she’d seen at Ephraim’s. He sat on the open tailgate of the wagon, selling what looked like some type of vegetables. Probably asparagus and rhubarb since that was all that was ripe in the Howards’ garden. But this road seemed like an odd place to try to sell anything. It had almost no traffic. And the man in the wagon appeared more interested in watching her as she worked the garden or hung clothes on the line than in selling.
She’d wanted to ask Ephraim about him, but he seemed in no mood to answer any questions about his people. Deciding it was time she asked the man directly, she headed that way. When he spotted her, he jumped off the tailgate, shoved the crates farther into the wagon, and hurried to the seat. He slapped the reins and took off.
Was it time for him to go, or did he not want to speak with her?
She and Lori went inside and told Mr. and Mrs. Howard good-bye. The Howards apologized again for needing to let her go so abruptly, and she knew their decision was based on something they couldn’t control. She assured them it didn’t matter and gathered all of her and Lori’s clean laundry before leaving. Going down the front walk, she wondered if Ephraim would still pick them up after their tiff this morning.
“Wait,” Mr. Howard called.
Cara stopped. “Yeah?”
“Ginny just reminded me of something. My sister lives up the road a piece. She bought paint a few months back. Started painting a room but never finished it, let alone the rest of the house. Don’t know how good your painting skills are, but I could put in a good word for you.”
“Thanks.”
He pointed. “Straight that way about two miles. It’s 2201. Two-story brick house, black shutters, pale yellow trim.”
“Think she’ll mind if I go by there now?”
He shook his head, chuckling. “You do that, missy. She should be there this time of day. I’ll go in and give her a call.”
Lori tugged on her hand, and they started walking again. In the distance a horse and buggy topped the hill, heading for them.
Ephraim.
Her heart beat a little harder. She’d never met anyone like him. In spite of their having a bit of trouble getting along and him being a believer in things that didn’t exist, she liked who he was—determined, honest, and giving. The man had a lot going for him. And he was so attractive. If he wasn’t Amish, she might even be tempted to fall for him. For her, that’d really be saying something.
“Look, Mom. ‘From is coming.”
“Yep, I saw him top the hill a few minutes ago.”
“Think he brought Better Days?”
“He’s brought him every day this week.”
“It’s Saturday tomorrow. Maybe he’ll make ice cream for us.”
“Tomorrow is Friday, honey.”
Lori cursed.
“Lori Moore, watch your mouth.”
“You swear.”
“Yeah, well, when you’re almost an adult, we’ll discuss this again. Until then you talk like a little girl. Got it?”
She shrugged. “Why?”
“I don’t know, kid. It’s just the way it is.”
“‘From doesn’t curse.”
“Good. Then take after him.”
Ephraim pulled to a stop beside them. He had a bit of a smile on his face. That’d been a rarity since she’d interrupted their Sunday service.
“Afternoon, ladies.”
Lori put her foot on the step and hoisted herself up. “Hey ’From.”
Ephraim looked beyond Lori, studying Cara with a serious expression.
She smiled. “Hi.”
“Afternoon.”
Better Days danced all over the seat, welcoming them.
“Mom said I need to take after you.”
Ephraim rubbed his chin. “You need to start shaving? I can lend you my razor.”
Lori slid closer to him. “She said I’m supposed to talk like you.”
Cara sat down. “Hey, Lori, zip it.”
Ephraim said something in Pennsylvania Dutch. The sincerity in his voice and reflected on his face added to her puzzlement. Was he annoyed with her intrusion in his life or not?
That aside, his words sounded like something he’d said earlier in the week. He gave Lori a half smile. “Is that what she meant?”
“Nope,” Lori chirped. “She meant I’m not to curse.”
Ephraim tilted his head at Cara. “We wouldn’t want your mother to watch her mouth too, would we?”
Cara harrumphed. “Shut up, both of you.”
“Be nice, Mom.”
Ephraim laughed and slapped the reins against the horse’s back.
“I’m careful what I say most of the time.”
“Can you go a week without cursing?” Ephraim asked.
Cara raised her chin. “Shut up, ‘From, before I’m tempted to say so much more than a few harmless curse words.”
He chuckled.
She pulled her pay out of the pocket she’d sewn on the dress. “Today was my last day with the Howards.”
“Did you know that?”
“No. Mrs. Howard is getting out of her cast earlier than they’d figured. Even so I’d thought they’d keep me working until she did a week or so of physical therapy and was able to get around better on her own again. Something must have come up with their finances.”
He slowed the buggy to turn it toward his place.
“I got a lead on another job a couple miles straight ahead. Would you mind taking me by there?”
“What kind of job?”
“Paintin
g.”
“You ever painted before?”
“No. But before a few days ago, I never cooked on a wood stove either, and you weren’t complaining about the meal I fixed last night.”
He looked at Lori and rubbed his belly.
He’d come in late last night to get his telescope. That had been his mode of operation all week. When every trace of daylight was gone, he’d slip into the house long enough to get his telescope out of the storage room, tell them good night, and leave. But last night Lori had talked him into eating a second dinner with her.
“When your mom was about the same age you are now,” he said, loosely holding the reins, “I asked her if she’d ever picked corn before, and she said, No, but I can learn.’ And then she started helping me.”
Confused by his sudden trip down memory lane, Cara stared at him. Maybe she should relax and enjoy the friendly mood he was in, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that he was setting her up for something. “What’s with all the nice banter?”
He sighed. “I can’t win. If I’m concerned and say so, you tell me I’m being bossy. If I give too much, I must want something. If I give too little, I’m mean and can’t possibly understand your situation.”
His words bit, but she knew they were true. “You get stung every day of your life, and we’ll see how you feel about bees.”
“I’m not a bee.”
Even as guilt washed over her, she knew he’d never understand. Life had trained her to regard every action with suspicion. And that a swarm of bees could attack at any moment.
Inside his hiddy Ephraim stared through the telescopic lens, seeing nothing except his own thoughts. He’d been a sky watcher since he turned twelve, but he’d taken up stargazing through a telescope over a decade ago.
Now the vast expanse of the night sky and the brilliance of the stars and planets were hidden behind Cara’s face. Those golden brown eyes and soft features seemed to linger with him like his favorite nighttime view of the heavens in the fall—the harvest moon. In the right season the soft orange luminance of a true harvest moon outlined the terrain of bright highlands and darker plains, making them easily visible to the naked eye. And its beauty was a part of him. Too amazing to look away from, it seemed as if he could reach out and touch it. But regardless of how close a harvest moon appeared, it was more than two hundred thousand miles away.
The Hope of Refuge Page 18