The Middlefield Family Collection

by Kathleen Fuller

  Anna frowned, her blue eyes squinting in the bright sunlight. “What do you mean?”

  “This.” She held up the glass. “Squeezing your own juice. Milking your own cows. Dusting your own tables.” At Anna’s incredulous look, she added, “How do you manage to live like a drudge?”

  To Cora’s surprise, Anna laughed. “I never thought I was a drudge. I’m just living my life. Like you live yours.”

  “But your life is so . . . difficult.” Cora looked at her manicured nails, comparing them to Anna’s stubby ones. “And, dare I say, dull? Housework day in and day out, baking, sewing clothes.” She shook her head. “Don’t you think you’re destined for more?”

  “Like the business world?”

  “Perhaps. Or at least a job outside the house. Why do you choose to be tethered like the horse that pulls your buggy?”

  Anna stared out at the green lawn in front of them. “I used to own a business. Me and mei mamm. It’s what brought us to Middlefield.”

  Cora’s mouth dropped. “You did?”

  “Ya. A gift shop. I met Lukas when he came into the store before we opened. He helped us fix up the building, which is near the flea market. We sold all kinds of Amish goods, including small toys and crafts Lukas and his bruders made in their shop.”

  Stunned, Cora angled toward her. “What happened to the business?”

  “A short while after Lukas and I married, I sold it. Mei mamm and her schwoger moved back to Maryland, where I’m originally from.”

  “Do you miss it?”

  “Maryland? Ya, sometimes.”

  Cora shook her head. “Owning a business. Having something you can call your own, that you can be successful at.”

  Anna waved a hand at her surroundings. “This is mine. Well, not completely. It’s a gift from God.” She smiled. “This is mei job, to take care of mei familye. And I don’t consider it drudgery. It’s a privilege.” She took a drink of her lemonade and stood. “Speaking of work, I have bread in the oven I need to check on.”

  Cora watched Anna walk back to the house. She had answered Cora’s questions honestly and with kindness. For a fleeting moment, she thought about Kerry. Her daughter would approve of Anna Byler.

  They might even have been friends.

  CHAPTER 16

  Later that afternoon Katherine still hadn’t left the couch. Bekah was sitting with her, reading a book. Katherine’s headache hadn’t lessened. If anything, it was getting worse. But she wasn’t about to admit it. Instead she closed her eyes and pretended she was asleep.

  A knock sounded at the door. Katherine’s eyes flew open.

  Bekah had already jumped out of her seat. “I’ll get it.”

  Katherine slowly sat up, the throbbing in her head intensifying. She’d tried aspirin. Mamm’s tea. Neither had worked, and she didn’t know what to do. Maybe she’d have to go to the dreaded doctor after all.

  Bekah’s voice came from the doorway. “Oh. Hi, Johnny.”

  Katherine jerked her head toward the doorway, which didn’t help her neck or head pain. Johnny? What was he doing here?

  Bekah turned and mouthed those exact words to Katherine. Katherine shrugged, and Bekah stepped aside to let him in.

  Johnny came in looking spit-shined and polished, not dirty and dusty from working outside, as he had the other day. He had obviously taken special care with his appearance.

  Despite the raging headache, Katherine couldn’t help noticing how handsome he was. She pushed the unwelcome thought aside. Whatever reason Johnny had for coming here, or why he’d spiffed up in the middle of the day, it had nothing to do with her.

  Then his gaze met hers. His chocolate-brown eyes grew soft. “How are you feeling?”

  She frowned. “How did you know I was sick?”

  “I stopped by Mary Yoder’s, and they said you’d called off work.”

  Despite her resolve to give up on Johnny Mullet forever, Katherine felt her heart flip. What had he been doing at her workplace? Then she saw the bag in his hands. Her quilted bag, the one she’d brought to his house when she’d fixed supper for him and his friends.

  He was here to return her bag, that was all. Not because he cared about her, not because he wanted to see her. Not any of the things she had wished for—

  “I wondered if I could talk to you,” he said, shifting from one foot to the other He glanced at the floor, then at Bekah. When Bekah didn’t move, he added, “Privately.” He looked at Katherine. “If you’re up to it, that is.”

  Bekah turned to Katherine, giving her a questioning lift of her brow. Katherine nodded. “It’s okay.”

  “I’ll geh help Mamm in the kitchen.”

  Katherine hoped her sister had enough sense not to tell their mother that Johnny was here. If she did, her mother would probably come storming out and demand that Johnny leave. Katherine didn’t want that. She needed to know what he wanted to talk about.

  Johnny stood there for a moment, as if unsure what to do. Then he walked over to her, holding out her bag. “You forgot this the other daag.”

  “Danki.” She took the bag from him and set it on the floor beside her feet. When he didn’t move, she gestured to the chair across from her. “You can sit down, if you want.”

  “Oh. Ya.” He gave her a half smile and took the chair. He swiped his hands over his knees as she waited for him to speak. But now he didn’t seem in any hurry to talk.

  The silence echoed in her aching head. Finally she couldn’t stand it anymore. “You said you wanted to talk to me?”

  “I—um . . .” He looked away again, color reddening his cheeks. She’d never seen him act shy around her like this before. Even when she was at his house, after a few short, awkward moments they had settled into being comfortable with each other. Now he looked ready to leap out of his skin.

  A sharp pain rattled her head. She touched her fingertips to her temples and closed her eyes.

  “Katherine?”

  She opened her eyes at his tender tone. He was leaning forward, almost to the point where he was slipping off the chair.

  “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine.” But the pain intensified.

  “You don’t look fine.” He searched her face, concern furrowing his brow. Then he got up and sat next to her. “How long have you felt like this?”

  “Long enough.” Her head and neck hurt so fiercely that she didn’t have the energy to figure out why he was sitting so close to her. Worse, she couldn’t even enjoy it. Her stomach twisted like a baked pretzel.

  “You’re pale,” he said.

  “I’ll be all right.” She looked at him. Under normal circumstances she’d be ecstatic that he was here, showing her such concern. But her headache, combined with her determination to move on with her life, pushed her over the edge. “What did you want to talk about?”

  “Maybe I should wait until you feel better.”

  “Maybe you should let me decide that.” The words came out sharp as a knife, but she couldn’t help it. She’d spent her whole life not being in control, especially where Johnny was concerned. She’d had enough. “Is there something else you want from me? Clean your haus or mend your clothes or cook your supper?” Sarcasm dripped from her words, but she didn’t care. “Then you can kick me out when I’m done.”

  His jaw dropped open. “Nix, that’s not it at all. I came to thank you. You know, for the other day. And to apologize for rushing you out of there. I’m sorry I hurt your feelings.” He looked at her intently. “I’m sorry for all the times I’ve hurt you.”

  A dizzy sensation overcame her as she looked at him, digesting his words. She gripped the edge of the sofa. He was so close she could see the black stubble of his beard, which he’d shave off in the morning as a sign of not being married. His long, dark lashes brushed against the top of his cheeks. Her own blond lashes were practically invisible.

  She shook her head, trying to focus. He had just apologized, something she’d hoped to hear for years. Why was she
thinking about eyelashes at a time like this?

  Johnny put his hat on the table. “I acted like a jerk. I’ve been acting like a jerk.”

  She squinted at him. Vaguely, in the back of her mind, she realized that this was something new. She ought to be impressed. Ought to respond.

  He kept talking. “The Wagners really liked supper. They thought the house was cozy. Or quaint, I can’t remember the exact word. But that was all due to you.” He looked down at her again, and she felt her cheeks grow hot. “I noticed the curtains.”

  “You did?”

  “They’re very nice. You didn’t have to do that.”

  “I know. But the living room needed something.”

  “A maedel’s touch.” He glanced at her hands, which were settled in her lap.

  Now her stomach was twisting like a tire swing in the wind. A wave of nausea crashed over her, just as another throb of pain radiated down her neck.

  He was still rattling on. “So, anyway, I came to thank you for those—the curtains, I mean—and everything else you did.” He stared at her straight on with his deep, dark brown eyes, longer than he’d ever looked at her before. “I appreciate it. I just wanted you to know that.”

  The sudden softness in his voice barely registered. Even though the living room was warm, she hugged her arms, her body shuddering with a sudden chill. The stiffness in her neck increased, as if she’d just woken up from sleeping at an odd angle. She rubbed at it, trying to ease the pain.

  “Katie?”

  She looked up at him. He seemed a long way away. “What did you just call me?”

  He cleared his throat. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  Another wave of nausea came over her. She stood up, ready to run to the bathroom. “I—I don’t know.” Then the dizziness hit full force. She reached out, grabbing his forearm with her hand.

  Instead of removing her hand, he covered it with his own. “I should get your mamm.”

  “Nee!” Her mother would just throw him out. There was something Katherine needed to know first. Her mind, hazy, guided by pain and a sudden need for the truth, forced her to speak the words that had been on her heart for years.

  “Johnny, why are you really here?”

  “I told you, to say thank you—”

  “You already thanked me.”

  “I had to bring you your bag.”

  She closed her eyes and rubbed the back of her neck. “You could have waited until Sunday.” Her gaze narrowed as she looked up at him. “Why do you treat me like this? The other day you couldn’t wait to get rid of me, and today you’re at mei haus.”

  He gripped her hand but averted his gaze. Guilt flashed in his eyes before he looked away. “I know. Just let me explain. I came to tell you something else—”

  Katherine pulled out of his grasp and gripped her head in her hands. The pain was almost unbearable. “You know how I feel about you.” She tried to turn her neck to look up at him, but she could barely move. “You’ve always known. And you’ve never done anything about it.”

  “Katie, I—”

  “Why can’t you be honest with me?”

  “I’ve never lied to you.”

  “Don’t play dumb, Johnny. You’re lying right now.”

  Suddenly the room heaved and shifted, as if she were on an out-of-control merry-go-round. She bent at the waist, trying to steady herself, and breathed in deeply. She should sit down. Call for her mamm. Or do both. But she couldn’t let this go. Not until she finally got a straight answer from Johnny.

  “We’re too old to be playing games.”

  Johnny put his arm around her shoulders. “I’m not playing games. Not anymore. I care about you. A lot. I should have told you a long time ago.”

  But she didn’t respond. Instead, she looked at the floor, then closed her eyes.

  “Katherine, I think there’s something seriously wrong. This isn’t like you.”

  “I’m tired of being like me. Tired of getting my feelings hurt, tired of people feeling sorry for me.” She gripped her temples. Was somebody pounding nails through them? “I’m tired . . . so tired.”

  “Katie?”

  He sounded far away. And why did he keep calling her Katie? Black dots swam before her eyes. Her ears pounded and her head roared.

  Then the blackness closed in like a suffocating blanket, and there was nothing more.

  Fear clawed at Johnny as he held an unconscious Katherine in his arms. Her skin, normally fair, was now stark white, her lips colorless. He rubbed her cheek with the palm of his hand, as if the gesture would wake her up. She didn’t respond.

  “Katie? Katie!” Johnny picked her up and laid her on the couch. He knelt beside her, holding her hand.

  “Katherine?” Her mother dashed into the room. She glared at Johnny. “What are you doing here?”

  “I just wanted to talk to her—”

  “What did you do?” She edged her way between him and Katie, forcing him to drop her hand. “Why did you upset her?”

  “I didn’t!” But she had been upset, right before she passed out. She’d also been acting very weird. Her beautiful face, normally so bright and placid, had been contorted with pain. “She was complaining about her head hurting.”

  “And you didn’t come get me? Bekah!”

  Katherine’s sister appeared behind them, her frightened expression mirroring her mother’s.

  “Geh to the call box and dial 911.” Her mother didn’t turn around. She gripped Katie’s hand. “Katherine? Can you hear me?”

  Johnny yanked his cell phone out of his pocket. “I’ll call the ambulance.” He quickly dialed emergency services. When he hung up, Katherine was still unconscious. Helpless, he asked, “Is there anything else I can do?”

  “You can leave.” Frau Yoder’s tone sliced through him.

  Johnny looked at Bekah, who nodded. Without a word he stood, picked up his hat, and went outside. He’d leave the house, but not the property, not until the paramedics arrived. He paced the front porch a couple of times. Then the front door opened and Bekah stepped outside.

  “Is she awake?” he asked, fisting his hands.

  Bekah nodded. “She’s coming to. But, Johnny, you have to leave. Mamm is really upset right now, and if she sees you here—”

  In the distance he could hear the wail of a siren. “I’m not going anywhere. Not until I know she’s all right.”

  Bekah frowned for a moment, then took Johnny away from the front door. “What’s your phone number? I’ll make sure to let you know what happens at the hospital.”

  “But you don’t have a phone.”

  “I’ll find one!” She pulled a pen out of the pocket of her apron and opened her palm. “What’s your number?”

  He told her and she scribbled it down before closing her fist. “Now geh. I promise, I’ll be in touch with you.” She turned and ran back in the house.

  Johnny remained on the porch as the siren grew closer. Panic gripped him, and he closed his eyes, his own problems fading away as he focused on Katherine. Lord, please help her. Make sure she’s all right. And I promise, when this is over, I’ll never leave her side.

  Cora sat on the edge of the plain, uncomfortable single bed at the Bylers’ house. She missed her king-size down mattress, where she had plenty of room to stretch out and get comfortable. Lately, despite her fatigue, she’d had trouble sleeping at night. Since she’d stopped drinking wine, she feared she’d have to resort to sleeping pills.

  More medication. Just what she didn’t want.

  Despite her conversation with Anna that morning, Cora had refused her lunch invitation. She had little appetite, and having had more time to ponder Anna’s words, Cora realized she’d accomplished nothing other than discovering how deeply entrenched Sawyer was in this Amish foolishness. She wouldn’t be able to get him back to New York. Not anytime soon.

  She sighed. Why couldn’t his adoptive family be cretins? Or money hungry? Anything that would allow her to buy her grandson�
��s freedom. Yet they were neither, and they were happy with their lot. That even seemed to include Cora’s presence. Neither Anna nor Lukas had made her feel like an imposition.

  She wouldn’t be able to say the same if the situation were reversed.

  She needed to regroup, to figure out another way to get Sawyer away from these people and with his true family. Yet she rejected every idea she’d come up with. She’d even thought to draw on his compassion, which he seemed to have in spades. After all, he’d fallen in love with a permanently scarred young woman. But the only way she could draw on his pity was to admit her weakness—Parkinson’s. And she just couldn’t bring herself to do that. Not yet.

  The phone beeped, indicating the battery was almost dead. She didn’t have an outlet to plug it into, or even a car to charge it. Fine, let the phone die.

  A knock sounded at the door. Cora sighed and stood. She was a little wobbly, but quickly regained her balance and walked to the door. When she opened it, she saw Anna standing there. “Yes?”

  “I wondered if you’d like some tea. I just made a fresh pot.” She twisted the end of one of the white ribbons dangling from the headgear she wore. What an unflattering hat. Cora thought that if the women in this community had to wear something on their heads, at least it could be fashionable. Yet these were the least fashion-conscious people she’d seen in her life.

  “I’m fine,” Cora said, not inviting Anna in. Instead she started to close the door.

  Anna slipped inside. “You’ve been up here all afternoon. I know you’re waiting for Sawyer to come home. He should be here in an hour or so. I thought we could visit a little more downstairs until he and Lukas came home.”

  Cora lifted her chin. “I think we both understand each other’s perspectives.”

  Anna’s smile slipped slightly. “That’s not what I meant. We haven’t had much of a chance to get to know each other. I thought you could tell me about Sawyer’s mother.”

  Cora turned away. “I’d rather not talk about my daughter.”