Johnny started to stand, but Wagner waved him off. He walked away, leaving Johnny with the bill and a near panic attack.
He leaned back in the chair, his ravenous appetite suddenly gone. What was he going to do? He barely had money to cover the check and possibly a few groceries.
The business plan was no problem. He’d been working on it for months, ever since he’d gotten the idea for Mullet’s Horse Farm. But what about the house? The dinner? Once again, his dream was swirling the drain, and he was powerless to stop it.
A waitress came up to him. Yankee, with thick black hair in a ponytail, and the typical waitress uniform—plain blouse and a skirt that reached to midcalf. She looked at his nearly full plate.
“Was there something wrong with your meal?”
“No.” Johnny’s mind still whirred.
She glanced at his plate again. “Are you sure?”
He nodded. “Can I get a box to geh?” He’d eat it later, if his appetite ever came back.
“Sure. Anything else?”
“Got a miracle on the menu?”
The girl gave him a puzzled expression. “What?”
“Just the box.”
He rubbed the back of his neck and tried to think. Maybe he could get the house in decent shape by day after tomorrow. But making a meal was an entirely different story. And it would have to be delicious, one that would make Wagner sign on the dotted line.
He couldn’t ask Mary Beth to help. Or his mother. His parents were leaving in the morning for Pine Craft, an Amish settlement in Sarasota, Florida, for a long overdue vacation.
Mary Yoder’s delivered. He might have to be satisfied with that—if he could figure out a way to pay for it.
He looked up, searching for his waitress to ask for a takeout menu. At least he could get an idea of the cost of the meal. Then he saw Katherine delivering a tray of drinks to an older couple across the room.
His heart thumped in his chest as he turned his back on her. He closed his eyes, but her face swam before him. She was so sweet. And so pretty. And one of the best cooks in Middlefield. Which would impress the Wagners.
He stilled. No. He couldn’t ask her. He didn’t want to encourage her, not now. Not yet.
While he was still arguing with himself, Johnny stood and headed toward her. His heart pounded in his chest. This was a stupid idea. Absolutely idiotic. But when it came to cooking and sewing and all those other girly things, no one was better than his Katie.
Katherine avoided looking in Johnny’s direction as she carried the tray of drinks toward her own table. Johnny and his Yankee friend were Chrystal’s customers, not hers. And even though she knew Isaac was waiting for her to get his order, she had to make sure her current table was pleased not only with the food but also the service.
“Here’s your tea.” She misjudged the distance and set the glass down a little harder than she intended. Droplets shot out of the glass. “Oh, I’m so sorry.”
The man waved her off, but the woman glared at her. Katherine’s face heated. Why couldn’t she get it together? Even without looking at Johnny, she could sense his presence. Why did forgetting about Johnny Mullet have to be so hard?
“Miss?”
Katherine looked down at the table. Her hand was still on the glass. She released it.
The woman picked up her napkin and set it in her lap. “I’ve heard good things about this restaurant.” She narrowed her gaze at Katherine. “So far I’m disappointed.”
“Don’t mind her,” the man said, giving Katherine a friendly smile. “My wife gets cranky when she’s hungry.”
“I do not.”
“Thanks for proving my point.”
Katherine relaxed a little and even managed a smile. “I’m truly sorry,” she said. “I promise to take gut care of you for the rest of your meal.”
The woman’s expression softened a little bit. “I appreciate the apology.”
Katherine nodded and turned to walk back to the kitchen, determined to make up for the mistakes she’d made with the couple. Instead she slammed right into Isaac.
“Oh!” She closed her gaping mouth. “You surprised me.”
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to.” He grinned. He was always smiling at her. That must be part of the flirting Chrystal was talking about.
“I was getting ready to geh to your table,” Katherine said. “I didn’t intend to make you wait.”
“Nee, that’s all right. Actually, I can’t stay.”
But she barely heard his words. A few steps away, Johnny Mullet was approaching. She looked at Isaac. “What?”
“I wanted to ask you something,” he said.
Johnny came up beside him. He crossed his arms over his chest, his lips tilted in a rare frown. He stared at Isaac. “Am I interrupting something?”
Katherine opened her mouth to speak, but Isaac interjected, “Ya. You are.” His grin had changed into a straight line.
Johnny looked at Katherine. “I need to talk to you.”
She couldn’t speak. There she was, closer to Johnny than she had been in months, ever since that embarrassing volleyball game last year, and she couldn’t breathe, much less think or say anything coherent. Both men stared at her, as if waiting for her to choose which one to talk to first.
Finally she found her voice. “Johnny,” she said, then cleared the bullfrog out of her throat. “This is Isaac, uh—”
“Troyer.” He held out his hand. Johnny paused, then shook it.
“I won’t keep you,” Isaac said, turning to Katherine. “I know you’re busy today. I wondered if you would geh to the singing with me this Sunday evening?”
Katherine’s eyes widened. So did Johnny’s, right before they narrowed at Isaac.
“Uh . . .”
He smiled again. “Think about it. I’ll be back tomorrow.” He looked at Johnny. “She makes the best coffee in town.”
“But I don’t make the coffee—” The words died on Katherine’s lips as Isaac walked away. Whistling.
Johnny looked at her. “You’re not considering going, are you?”
His question suddenly annoyed her. “Why should you care if I did?”
He swallowed. His gaze dashed around the room, lighting on the kitchen pass-through, the clock, the door—anyplace except on her. But he didn’t answer her question. Instead he said, “Um, can I talk to you for a minute? In private?”
She nodded.
He led her down the hallway toward the restrooms, away from the rest of the customers. He touched her arm, then withdrew it quickly, as if he’d made a mistake.
She didn’t care. The warmth of that brief touch seeped through her skin. And for all of her rational thoughts, all of her praying that Johnny wouldn’t have this effect on her, she thought she’d faint right there.
He looked down at her, his chocolate-colored eyes meeting hers. “I, um, wondered if you could come over tomorrow.”
Her heart almost flipped out of her chest.
“As a favor. I mean, I have a favor to ask.”
“Anything.” The word burst from her mouth like the juice from a ripe tomato. She sounded too eager. Too desperate. Isaac completely forgotten, she tried to act casual, leaning against the wall, putting her hand on her waist. She missed, and her hand slid down her dress. She recovered and said, “Sure.”
“What time would be gut for you? To come over?”
“I’m off tomorrow, so anytime.” Her voice trembled. This couldn’t be happening. Johnny wanted her to come over? Could he have changed his mind after all these years?
“How about morning? The earlier, the better?”
“Six?”
He grinned. “Maybe not that early. Eight will do.”
“Oh ya. That makes more sense.”
“Okay. Great.” He gave her the address, then started backing away, wiping his hands against the front of his pants. “Um, I’ll see you tomorrow. At eight.”
“Ya. Eight.”
The corner of his mouth lifte
d into a half smile. He nodded, then spun around and walked away.
“See you tomorrow!” she blurted out. He—and nearly everyone else in the restaurant—turned around.
He lifted his hand, giving her a small nod.
Katherine watched him walk away, the sounds around her dimming to nothing. Johnny needed her. She could barely comprehend it.
She came to her senses and hurried to the kitchen, leaning against the counter as she tried to catch her breath.
“Katherine?” A coworker pulled her out of her thoughts. “We need to get this food out there.”
Katherine nodded and hid a smile.
Tomorrow she would see Johnny. Alone. The thought made her giddy and nervous and thrilled—more emotions than she knew what to do with.
Could it be true? Could he finally be interested in her?
After all this time, perhaps her fervent prayers were coming true.
CHAPTER 8
The next morning Katherine turned into Johnny’s driveway at five minutes to eight. Never mind that she’d been up since four thirty, unable to sleep. She’d read her Bible, cleaned her room, rearranged her closet, and ended up pacing for the last hour before it was time to go downstairs and help Mamm with breakfast. Now she was here, in her parents’ buggy and parked in Johnny’s narrow dirt driveway. She put her hand on her chest, felt her heart flutter. She then checked to make sure her hair was tucked into her kapp.
All her determination to move on from Johnny had vanished. She was as excited as she had been all those years ago when he had pushed her on the swing, giving her that smile that never failed to capture her heart.
God had given her this chance. Whatever Johnny Mullet needed her to do, she would gladly do it.
She took a deep breath. Don’t act stupid. Calm. For once, be normal around him.
A memory from sixth grade swam unbidden to the surface of her mind. Johnny had been playing baseball at recess with his friends. While he waited his turn to bat, she had brought him a bouquet of wildflowers she had spent most of her recess time picking just for him. When she finally got the nerve to hand it to him, he laughed.
“Buwe don’t get flowers.” He looked at the bouquet with childish derision. “They give flowers. I don’t want those dumm things.”
Fighting tears, she’d taken the flowers and thrown them away before going back inside the school haus. The rest of the afternoon she tried to hide her humiliation, from him and everyone else. She wasn’t super smart, like Mary Beth and some of the other children in class. Sometimes she said dumb things, and sometimes she wasn’t as quick to catch on to a joke or sarcasm as other people were.
Yet despite that horrible day, she forgave Johnny. It wasn’t his fault she didn’t know better.
She shook her head, releasing the memory. Now wasn’t the time to dwell in the past.
As she stepped out of the buggy, the back screen door banged against the door frame. When she reached the front of the horse and grabbed his reins, she saw Johnny across the yard, dressed in dirty work pants and shirt. Had he been outside working all morning? His boots were caked with mud, dirt, and straw. From the smell as he came closer, she knew for sure he’d been in the barn.
“Here, I’ll take him for you.” Johnny reached and took the reins. He looped them over the wooden tie.
“Danki,” she croaked. She cleared her throat and spoke louder. “Thank you.”
“No problem.” He turned toward her, pushing his hat back from his head. He stared for a moment before averting his gaze. Silence stretched out between them, making her ill at ease. She shifted on her feet until he finally spoke.
“I don’t know how else to say this. And I don’t want to ask, but I don’t have a choice.” Worry clouded his eyes. “I need your help.”
She stepped toward him, concerned. “What’s wrong?”
He took a step back, widening the space between them. “I’m having company over tomorrow. A couple from Akron. For a business meeting.”
“Okay.” She frowned. “I don’t know much about running a business.”
“I don’t need help with the business. Well, not in the way you think.”
“What kind of business?”
“Mullet’s Horse Farm.”
“You and your daed bought a farm?”
“Nee.” He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. “I bought a farm.”
She turned and glanced at the empty land surrounding a sad-looking barn. “Where?”
He spread out his arms. “You’re looking at it.” He gave her a halfhearted grin.
She surveyed the place more closely, taking in the sagging barn, broken, splintering fence, and weedy yard. When she looked at the house, she saw it wasn’t in much better shape. This was a horse farm?
“I know it’s not much, but it will be once I get it going.” He started pacing. “And this mann—Wagner”—Johnny pronounced the W with a V sound—“he’s thinking about investing. But first he wants an authentic Amish meal. Don’t ask me why, but he does.” He stopped and looked at Katherine, holding his palms up in defeat. “I can’t cook.”
“So you want me to make the meal?” Her confidence started to grow. Cooking she could handle.
“That . . . and something else.” He motioned for her to follow him toward the house. He opened the door and she stepped in.
“Ach.” Katherine looked around the grimy kitchen. No curtains on the windows. Motes danced in the air as sunlight streamed through filmy windows. She sneezed, sniffed, then turned to him. “Does the rest of the haus look like this?”
“It’s worse.” A sheepish look came across his handsome face. “At least I spend time in the kitchen. Not much time, but the room gets used more than the others, except my bedroom.”
She almost laughed at his embarrassed expression. Even dirty from work and obviously unhappy with the state of his house, he was so cute. But he was worried too. She didn’t want him to worry about anything.
“I’ll be happy to help you, Johnny. I know just what to do.”
He let out a long breath. “I’ve got a lot to do outside before the Wagners get here. That leaves me with almost no time to clean up the inside. I thought about ordering some food from the restaurant—”
“Nee.” That wouldn’t do. “If the Wagners want a gut meal, I’ll make the best one they’ve ever had.” She started walking around the kitchen, mentally making a list of everything that needed to be done. When she turned, she saw him watching her. Her pulse suddenly thrummed, a different rhythm than it did when she thought about him, or the few times she’d been around him. Heat rose to her cheeks and she turned away. “Do you have cleaning supplies?” she asked, grateful her voice sounded somewhat normal.
“Ya. You’ll have to blow the dust off them, though.”
She turned to see him smile. With his grin he looked a bit more like himself. “Just kidding. They’re underneath the sink. Mamm made sure I was well stocked after I bought the place. Although she probably thought I would have used them by now.”
Katherine smiled back. “You’ve been busy.” She moved closer to him, still taking in the kitchen, seeing its potential. “It’s a sweet haus. How many bedrooms?”
“Three. More than enough for me.”
His words made her smile inwardly. So far no mention of another woman. Their district was small enough, of course, that she probably would have known if he was seeing someone. Then again, maybe not. Johnny was nothing if not private, and perplexing at times. But if he was dating someone, surely he would ask her for help, not Katherine. Or maybe he wasn’t dating anyone seriously enough for him to feel comfortable—
“Katherine?”
She focused on him, realizing she had been staring past his shoulder. He moved to the back door.
“I’ll leave you to do whatever it is you’re gonna do.” He opened the door. “I’ll be in the barn if you need anything.”
“All right.” She moved toward him. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.” She sm
iled. “Danki.”
His brow lifted. “You’re thanking me? Why?”
She cringed. That did sound stupid, thanking him for asking her to clean his house. She tried to think of a quick reply, but nothing came.
“I should be thanking you.” He smiled again, and her knees nearly buckled. “I better get to the barn.”
Katherine nodded. The door shut behind him. She clasped her hands and looked around the kitchen again. “First thing, open a window.” She yanked it open. The fresh spring air filtered through, disturbing the dust motes further. Everything needed airing out.
She went through the house, taking note of what needed to be done. The dingy brown curtains were ragged and ill fitting, as if they’d been hanging there for years. Those would have to go.
She pulled open the pitiful curtains to let some light in. The furniture placement in the room needed improvement too. The couch was shoved up against a wall in front of the big window, with a saggy chair next to it. A small coffee table was placed too close to the couch and covered with horse magazines, along with feed and farming catalogs. Everything looked second-, even thirdhand.
The bathroom downstairs was surprisingly clean. Katherine then went upstairs to the bedrooms. Two of them were completely empty. A bit of sweeping the dust off the hardwood floors and she would be done. The third bedroom was Johnny’s. Her hand touched the doorknob, and she paused.
How foolish. She was cleaning his house. Nothing else. Yet knowing she was going into Johnny’s bedroom gave her mixed emotions. Like she was intruding. Yet her curiosity was getting the best of her.
“Katherine!” Johnny’s voice sounded at the bottom of the stairs.
She released the doorknob and went to the top of the staircase. “Ya?”
“I meant to tell you not to worry about the upstairs.” He took off his hat and brushed off some of the dust. It floated to the floor. It meant more sweeping for her, but she didn’t care. He plopped his hat back on his head. “The Wagners won’t be going up there, so there’s no need to clean.”
“I don’t mind. Really. It won’t take me long at all.” Despite her hesitation in going into his room, now she was disappointed to be denied.
The Middlefield Family Collection Page 49