Huckleberry Harvest (The Matchmakers of Huckleberry Hill Book 5)

by Jennifer Beckstrand

  Mandy stretched a smile across her face. She’d rather not argue tonight, rather not feel the niggling guilt that she should be less sympathetic to Noah and more sympathetic to Kristina. Kristina acted like a silly schoolgirl, but she was Mandy’s best friend. Still, she was going to be bitterly disappointed when it came to Noah.

  Mandy sighed and determined to make things right for Kristina. Maybe she could introduce her to some of the suitors Mammi had lined up for Mandy. After all, she couldn’t marry all of them. She didn’t want to marry any of them.

  Freeman Kiem might be persuaded to give Kristina a chance. He had taken Mandy for ice cream on Wednesday night. A twenty-minute date. He was real nice, with a deep cleft in his chin that made his face look as if it had been molded out of clay. Freeman wasn’t all that interesting to Mandy, and he hadn’t seemed inclined to ask for another date.

  On Thursday, her ride with Adam had been quite unpleasant. Adam had picked her up in his courting buggy, and Mandy hadn’t been able to hide it from Mammi. As expected, Mammi had been rapturous that Mandy was going riding with Adam and was equally despondent after the date when Mandy had informed her that Adam wasn’t the one.

  Adam Wengerd was as handsome as the day is long, but he was also fully aware of his good looks. His arrogance was enough to give Mandy a headache. If there was anything she couldn’t abide, it was a peacock. She much preferred someone like humble Noah Mischler, who had no idea how nice to look at he was, and wouldn’t have cared if he did know.

  “Ach, du lieva,” Kristina said, so forcefully that Peggy slammed on the brakes.

  All three of them jerked forward and back with the car. “What! What is it,” Peggy said.

  Mandy laid her hand over her racing heart. “What’s the matter?”

  “There he is,” Kristina said, pointing out the window.

  “Who?”

  “Noah.”

  Mandy peered out the window. “I don’t see him.”

  “Well, it’s not him,” Kristina said as if Mandy were dumber than a brick. “It’s his courting buggy. See? At that bar across the street.”

  Peggy shoved her mouth to one side of her face. “I thought there was a deer.”

  “Sorry,” Mandy said. “No deer.”

  Peggy let her foot off the brake and rolled forward a few feet to the stoplight, which had turned red during all the commotion. “Please try to keep boy sightings to yourself. I want my shocks to last for a few years yet.”

  Mandy knew it was none of her business, but she let her eyes stray across the street to the open-air buggy parked beneath the streetlight in front of the bar on the road near the airport. A second buggy, enclosed and black, sat to the side of the bar, partially obscured by the dark shadows of the night.

  Was one of those Noah’s buggy?

  She folded her arms and sat back. She didn’t really want to know. Her chest felt empty and her skin was cold. Even though they’d only known each other for a week, she had thought she knew him better than that. Noah wasn’t a drinker, was he? Mandy wasn’t so sure. He had a phone. What other rules of the church was he breaking?

  Again her eyes drifted to the bar. Could Noah really be in there?

  Jah, he could.

  While they waited for the light to change, Noah emerged from inside, dragging someone with him.

  “There he is,” Kristina said. “I told you.”

  The other man’s arm was draped over Noah’s shoulder, and Noah had one arm wrapped around the other man’s back. Noah’s companion, significantly older than Noah, swayed unsteadily, as if standing on his own would be impossible. It was a gute thing Noah could lift a truck all by himself.

  Suddenly, the staggering man shoved Noah away from him, swung his fist wildly, and caught Noah in the mouth. Mandy gasped as Noah stumbled backward. He met with the wall of the bar, and his legs crumpled beneath him. He slid to the ground and sat as if that was where he had intended to end up. The older man staggered back into the bar and slammed the door behind him.

  “Peggy, wait,” Mandy said as the light turned green. “We need to help him.”

  Kristina’s eagerness over Noah vanished, and she folded her arms. “I’m not going over there.”

  “But Noah is hurt.”

  Kristina turned her face away. “Mamm wouldn’t like it if I went to a bar, and Noah gets really mad if anybody knows anything.”

  Peggy hesitated for a minute before drifting into the left lane and pulling into the parking lot. She drove to the side of the bar next to the black buggy. Noah wouldn’t even be able to see Peggy’s car from where he sat. Mandy jumped out of the car and raced around the buggy. With his eyes downcast, Noah sat on the ground fingering his lip, which looked to be bleeding pretty good.

  She squatted beside him. “Are you okay?”

  He slowly lifted his head and focused his eyes on her. “What are you doing here?”

  “I saw that man hit you. Are you okay?”

  He covered his face and pressed his fingers to his temples. “Go away. I don’t want you here.” There was real anguish in his voice.

  She didn’t even flinch. He’d told her to go away before, yelled at her even. She wasn’t about to believe that he didn’t need her. “If you think all that bluster scares me, you can just think again. I’m not leaving.”

  His expression softened. “Please, Mandy. Leave me alone. I just want people to leave me alone.”

  She took a tissue from her coat pocket, congratulating herself that she always carried a few with her. “Here,” she said. “Let me see.”

  “Mandy, you don’t understand. You shouldn’t be here. I don’t want your help.” He hissed as she dabbed at his lip with her tissue. “I’m not going to ask nice again.”

  “You wouldn’t dare yell at me.”

  “Jah, if it would scare you into leaving.”

  “I’m not scared of you.”

  He took hold of her wrist and pulled her hand away from his mouth. “You should be.”

  His grip was strong, but not meant to hurt her. She tugged her hand out of his grasp. She told the truth. She wasn’t afraid of him in the least. It was obvious that except for the blow to the face, he had his wits about him. He hadn’t been drinking. But he was injured, and she was going to fix it. “You’re harmless, Noah.”

  Surprise mingled with a bare hint of amusement glinted in his eyes. “Harmless?” He held up his hands. “I can lift four bushels of tomatoes at once.” He winced as she tried to wipe the rest of the blood from his lip. “You, on the other hand, are going to kill me. Leave off. You’ll make it worse.”

  This time he folded her hand in his. Their gazes met, and his brown eyes flashed as if he were trying to read her mind. His look sent the thoughts in her head tumbling like pebbles in a rockslide. At that moment, she didn’t even know what she was thinking. He wouldn’t have been able to read much.

  He frowned as they heard a sound from inside the bar. Rubbing his jaw, he shot to his feet and pulled her with him. “Denki for checking on me.” He nudged her in the direction opposite the bar. “You should go now.”

  “Do you need my help getting home?”

  “You want to see that I get home safe? Forget it. I’ll be fine.” She heard something buzzing and realized that it was his cell phone. He shoved his hand into his pocket and silenced it without looking. He gazed around as if trying to find her buggy. “What about you? How did you happen to be at a bar in Shawano?”

  “Oh, I . . . uh . . . was visiting someone in the hospital.” She probably shouldn’t mention that Kristina was with her. The mere thought of Kristina agitated him, and right now it was a good guess that he didn’t need the added aggravation. “My driver is over there,” she said, waving her hand in no direction in particular.

  “Okay then,” he said, acting as if he were about to jump into his buggy any second now. “We should both be going.”

  Mandy bit her tongue, resisting the urge to ask him what he had been doing in a bar and why that m
an had hit him and maybe why his brown eyes made her heart do somersaults inside her chest. But by the way he looked at her, she could practically hear the lecture that it was none of her business.

  The door to the bar swung open, and a painfully skinny man with arms covered in tattoos stuck his head out. “Noah, you gotta come get him, or I’m going to have to throw him out.”

  Noah went completely rigid as if someone had rammed a steel rod down his back. Clenching his jaw, he glanced at Mandy before turning away and staring into the distance. “I’m coming.”

  The tattooed guy nodded and disappeared into the bar.

  Mandy’s heart sank to her toes. She should have listened when Noah had told her to go away. Now she had made him uncomfortable when she had just wanted to help.

  “I’ll go now,” she said.

  He nodded without meeting her eyes. “Okay.”

  The door swung open again, this time so forcefully that it crashed against the wall behind it. The man who had hit Noah staggered out of the bar.

  Noah wrapped his arms around him in what looked like a bear hug, but it was meant to prop the older man up so he wouldn’t fall over. It wasn’t an easy task. The man was almost as big and as solid as Noah.

  “Come on,” Noah said. “Let’s go home.” He shifted, securing one arm around the older man so they could walk forward. Stunned and unsure of herself, Mandy stepped out of the way as they walked past. Noah barely gave her a second look.

  The man reached out a hand to Mandy. “I’m sorry,” he said, a look of utter despair on his face. “I’m so sorry.”

  Unsure of what to do, but feeling an overwhelming need to comfort him, she took his offered hand. “Everything is going to be okay.”

  The man stopped his halting shuffle and studied Mandy as if he were trying to bring her face into focus.

  There was no mistaking the shame and grief warring on Noah’s face. “Come on, Dat,” he said, gently nudging him away from Mandy. “We need to go home.”

  Dat?

  An invisible hand clamped around Mandy’s throat. This broken shadow of a man was Noah’s dat? Mandy almost cried out. She couldn’t even begin to imagine the depth of Noah’s pain. No wonder he hated the very mention of his family.

  Noah’s fater was an older version of Noah, with the same solid arms and broad chest, except his dat had gone a little soft in the middle. There wasn’t anything soft about Noah.

  With surprising strength, Noah’s dat shoved Noah away from him. “Leave me be,” he groaned.

  Noah stumbled backward but immediately returned to his father’s side, taking his arm and pulling him more forcefully toward the buggy. His dat resisted and turned his eyes to Mandy. “I’m sorry, Little Rosie. Forgive me. Please, forgive me.”

  “Of course I forgive you,” Mandy said, unsure who he was apologizing to but recognizing his need for reassurance. “Everything is okay. You’re going to be okay.”

  His dat yanked his arm from Noah’s grasp and staggered toward Mandy. “Take me home, Little Rosie. Please come home.”

  Noah immediately stepped between Mandy and his dat, enveloping him in another bear hug. “Mandy, go away,” he pled, his voice cracking in a rare moment of vulnerability.

  “Come home, Rosie,” his dat repeated, reaching for Mandy even as Noah pushed him away.

  Even though she’d seen him strike Noah, Mandy instinctively knew that Noah’s dat wouldn’t hurt her. He seemed so despondent, so damaged, that the only emotion she felt for him was profound compassion.

  “Can I help you get him home?” she whispered, afraid her voice might give out on her if she spoke with more boldness.

  Noah still would not look her in the eye as he took his dat’s arm and draped it over his shoulders. “Nae. I can manage.”

  His dat stopped struggling. “Let her come home, Noah.”

  Noah pressed his lips into a rigid line as a storm raged behind his eyes.

  At that moment, Mandy would have done anything to ease the hurt she saw there. She pointed to the other buggy parked to the side of the building. “Your dat’s?”

  Noah nodded.

  “I can drive one to your house if you drive the other.”

  His dat bent the arm that was slung over Noah’s shoulder, pulling Noah closer to him as if he were giving him an affectionate hug. He furrowed his brow and seemed almost lucid. “Noah, don’t you want your mama to come home?”

  Noah bowed his head. “Come on, Dat,” he mumbled. “If you let Rosie come too.”

  Noah hesitated with one arm around his dat’s back and his other hand gripped firmly around his dat’s wrist. “Okay,” he whispered.

  “I’ll tell my driver to go home,” she said, hoping Noah wouldn’t catch sight of who else was in the car.

  She walked to the other side of the black buggy, where Peggy drummed on the steering wheel and Kristina sat with her arms clamped like a vise around her chest. The rear windows were tinted. Lord willing, Noah would be none the wiser. She opened the door and slipped into the front seat. “Peggy, I am going to help Noah. Will you take Kristina home?”

  “What did he say?” Kristina asked. “He hates it when you tease him about his dat.”

  “Tease him?” Mandy said. “What do you mean tease? Kristina, did you say something to Noah you shouldn’t have?”

  She turned her face and stared at the stoplight. “He can’t take a joke.”

  Mandy wanted to grab Kristina by the shoulders and shake some sense into her. She’d only been acquainted with Noah for a week but already knew that Noah’s dat was a topic that should never be mentioned.

  “I’ll take her home,” Peggy said. “Will you be okay?”

  “Jah, I’ll get home.”

  Peggy nodded and put the car into reverse. “If you run into trouble, call me. I always stay up late to watch Night-line .”

  “Please just . . .” She leaned toward Kristina. “Please, let’s keep this between ourselves. It’s pure gossip to spread someone else’s misfortunes.”

  Kristina pinched her lips together and nodded. “Everybody already knows about Noah’s dat.”

  Mandy glared at her best friend. “Promise me you won’t say a word.”

  Kristina looked as if she might bite Mandy’s head off. “Okay. Don’t get huffy. I promise.”

  Mandy relaxed when Peggy pulled out of the parking lot and her car disappeared around the corner. Noah wouldn’t have to know about Kristina.

  Noah helped his dat into the black buggy. His dat lay down across the backseat and seemed to fall asleep immediately. Mandy grabbed a wool blanket sitting on the front seat and laid it over him. Noah risked a glance at her. “Denki,” he said.

  “I’ll drive the courting buggy back,” she said.

  “It’s cold.”

  “You need to be with your dat. I’ll be warm enough.”

  Keeping his eyes down, he shrugged off his black coat and handed it to her. “Wear this.”

  “What about you?”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  His tone, almost resentful, shut down any argument Mandy might have tried to make. It was plain that he didn’t want to be contradicted, didn’t want to talk her into anything, and most certainly didn’t want to spend any more time standing outside a bar where the whole world could see him.

  She nudged her hands into the sleeves, and Noah’s warmth immediately enveloped her. His coat smelled like him, clean and wintery, with just a touch of the deep forest lingering in the fabric. She rolled the sleeves twice and still the coat felt as if it would tumble from her shoulders if she breathed too hard. She buttoned it around her and climbed into Noah’s open-air buggy.

  “I’ll follow you,” he said.

  She loosened the reins and with a flick of her wrist, got the horse moving. How far was it to Noah’s house? Half an hour? Forty minutes? Her breath hung in the air. A little chilly for September.

  She tucked her hand into one of Noah’s coat pockets and found a pair of gloves. Sure to be
too big for her, but better than hands made stiff with the cold. Keeping hold of the reins with one hand, she slipped each glove on in turn. Oversized, but they’d keep her hands warm. She had all of Noah’s gear. Lord willing he’d be warm without it.

  The horse’s hooves clapping against the pavement lulled her into a sense of calm as they always did on a crisp, quiet night like tonight. She could hear the faint, comforting clip-clop of Noah’s horse a few paces behind her. What was he thinking? Was he embarrassed about his dat? Grateful for her help? Mandy felt bad for Noah’s dat, but was glad she had been there. She had always been able to make things better for people. Mamm said it was one of her gifts.

  The darkness seemed to envelop her as she got closer to Noah’s place and farther away from the lights of town. After half an hour of quiet solitude, she turned down the road to Noah’s house. There was a little shed that looked as if it might be what Noah used as a stable a few hundred paces behind the house, but Mandy couldn’t see how to get there from the dirt road. She parked the buggy in front of his house, and he pulled behind her.

  She slid from her seat, eager for the warmth of the indoors. Noah didn’t acknowledge her as he coaxed his dat to sit up and then climb out of the buggy.

  “I’m sorry,” Noah’s dat mumbled. “I didn’t mean it.”

  “Cum, Dat. I’ll take you to bed.”

  His dat seemed to be walking and talking in his sleep as Noah put an arm around him and led him to the cement porch. Mandy went before him and held the door open as Noah led his dat up the step.

  A floor lamp stood in the entryway, one of the kinds with a battery underneath the cabinet and a regular lightbulb on top. Mandy pulled the chain and turned on the light. The hound dog she had encountered here last week seemed to appear from out of nowhere. His collar jangled and his paws clicked against the wood floor as he bounced and fussed like a puppy, sniffing at Mandy and Noah and then Noah’s dat.