by Kate Lloyd
I wanted to sink to the ground and ooze into a puddle. “I’m sorry I lost my temper. I wish I could apologize to those women, but I don’t see the buggy anymore through all that traffic.”
The bishop’s voice sounded kinder than I expected. “It’s not easy turning the other cheek seventy times seven times, is it?” He stroked his beard.
“But surely it is for you,” I said.
“Nee. I’m human, just like everyone.” I might have missed his smile if his upper lip hadn’t been shaven. “You’re a gut girl, Eva. Why don’t you settle down and join the church?”
“I’m still thinking about it.”
“A lifetime commitment should not be made on a whim. But consider your other choices carefully.”
I watched both Amish and Englisch men help the firemen contain the fire. Jake was arguing with a fireman, their voices rough, reminding me of the dogs that used to menace me on the way to school when I was a girl. I bet those mongrels wouldn’t have bothered me with Heath and Missy there to protect me. I glanced down at the two Labs and was pleased to see them sitting at my side, gazing up, waiting to escort me home.
THIRTY-THREE
During the sleepless night, images of the fire assaulted my mind. The flames and hoses spewing water jostled and competed with one another. Somehow, though, I managed not to dream about Ralph and his possible demise.
The next morning, sunshine illuminated the cabin as I dressed for work in a daze. My clumsy hands pricked me twice with straight pins while fastening on my apron, which still reeked of smoke. I wriggled into my sweater, which also carried the noxious odor. When I opened the front door, a cloud of stinky, damp air drifting from the decimated barn bombarded me. But the sun shone brightly, no doubt drying the water the firemen had provided.
The night before, I’d left without saying goodbye to Jake, nor had he come over to fill me in. For all I knew, he’d spent the night in jail and was awaiting trial for arson. I’d vouched for him, but who would believe me? And I wasn’t up in the hayloft when the fire started. I couldn’t see Ralph for more than a moment, or the flames igniting.
“Evie, wait.” As I walked toward the café, Stephen sauntered up behind me with Heath and Missy on leash. Their bodies wriggled with excitement. “Beatrice asked me to walk these two and then lock them in the house.”
“Maybe there’s no need to lock the back door anymore if Ralph is gone.”
“His death would be a blessing in some ways.” He gave himself a mock slap in the face. “No, what am I saying? At AA I’ve seen far worse cases turn their lives around.”
I peeked toward the burned-out barn and heard the whirring of machinery and voices.
“Want to go over and have a look?” Stephen asked.
“I don’t know. I might be running late.” Times like this, I wished I could wear a wristwatch. “I need to get to work.”
He glanced down at his watch. “No, there’s plenty of time. I bet you have an extra twenty minutes. Beatrice just told me she’s making the soup today as well as an extra vat to take over to the workers later. And Sadie will be in soon.”
“Okay.” I couldn’t pass up the opportunity. As we neared the barn, the stench increased. Both Amish and Englisch men waited for the arson inspector’s signal to begin filling the trucks with rubble and debris. The ground was muddy, the trucks’ humongous wheels sinking into it. Ach, what a mess.
I saw Jake waiting along with the other men, but he either didn’t notice us or was ignoring me because I was with Stephen.
“Do you suppose Ralph could have escaped?” I asked Stephen. “The fire ignited so quickly. I can’t imagine how he could have gotten out.”
“Especially if he was smashed.”
We passed a weary-looking fireman. “Pardon me,” Stephen said to him. “Any human remains found in the debris?”
The man shook his head. “Not that I’ve heard. The investigation is still going on.”
Stephen glanced down at me. “Are you sure Ralph was drunk?”
I buttoned my sweater and stuffed my icy fingers in my apron pockets. “He was cursing up a storm and griped that he’d tipped over his bottle of whiskey. That’s one reason Jake hurried up to the loft so quickly. He said whiskey is flammable, almost as bad as lighter fluid.”
“I don’t know about that, but it sounds like Ralph was on a binge.” He turned to watch Jake, who took notice of us but didn’t say hello. “You still love him, don’t you, Evie?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know anything anymore.”
“I’d never do anything to hurt you, but I get why you’re steering clear of me,” Stephen said. “I’m not Amish.”
“Would you consider joining the church?” I asked, already surmising the answer.
He paused for a moment. “At this stage in my life I doubt it. Not that I don’t respect the Amish greatly and embrace their biblical faith. But I couldn’t follow the Ordnung, especially when it comes to driving.”
“I figured you’d say that.” Yet I felt a ripple of disappointment.
“I don’t see you rushing to join. What’s keeping you? Waiting on Jake?” His hand moved to brush a stray hair off my cheek. “Evie, you can do better than Jake Miller. I heard the police took him down to the station last night for questioning. If a death occurred in that fire, the law will insist on an inquest.”
“But I told the fire chief what happened.”
“Some women will say just about anything to protect a man they care about. They probably took your statement with a grain of salt if they know of your long history with Jake.”
We paused as Heath sniffed a clump of grass.
Stephen turned to me and said, “In the meantime, a man like me is falling in love with you.”
My head whipped around to catch his countenance. Years ago I’d heard a romantic song in an Englisch restaurant Jake took me to several times. The music was playing in the background, and that particular song—“The Look of Love”—stuck with me. Now it circled in my brain.
Stephen wore an expression of love right now—the way his gaze took me in and his mouth softened.
Our eyes locked until I forced myself to look away. “What happened to your former girlfriend?”
“Joni couldn’t take my drinking. She gave me an ultimatum, but I kept on boozing it up until she dumped me. Which I deserved. Her courageous act may have saved my life.”
“Would you two get back together?”
“No, she and I are history. She moved on to another man months later and married him. They’re expecting a child.”
“Do you miss her?”
“At first I held one giant pity party, but not anymore. Certainly not since I met you.”
Our eyes locked again. Warmth and tenderness filled my heart. I didn’t know what to say. I trusted Stephen. I’d never seen him flirt or heard him distort the truth. He was courageous and kind. A righteous man. But not Amish.
Heath broke the silence with a woof as a buggy conveying half a dozen men and a yappy mixed-breed pulled to a stop. The men hopped out and the buggy took off—with the little mutt, thank goodness.
Over by the Schmuckers’ home, Amish women were setting up card tables and bringing out paper and Styrofoam cups, carafes of coffee and juice, and donuts and other baked goods, preparing to serve the firemen and all the other volunteers the forenoon snack around nine.
“These women probably either stayed up half the night cooking or stopped by a bakery on the way here,” I said, glad to change the subject.
“I admire how the Amish community sticks together and takes care of outsiders too.”
Stephen lifted a hand and waved at Bishop Harvey. “Good, Harvey’s here. He has a wealth of knowledge about building barns stored in his head. Several of the older Amish men will also be invaluable. I bet they’ve already calculated an order for the lumberyard.”
“I wish I could stay and help,” I said, lagging.
“You’ll be busy feeding our customers today, Evie.
Come back later. These men will be here all day, if not into the night, unless they need to go home to milk. I’d be surprised if the new barn got started before a couple of days goes by, especially if the arson inspector takes much longer. It’s just now getting light. Anyway, a solid foundation is essential to everything in life, don’t you think?”
His question spiked into me. I speculated if he were hinting at Jake and me as a couple.
As the sky brightened, a line of both Amish men in broadcloth trousers and Englisch men wearing jeans formed in front of the tables. Men sipped coffee, gobbled up the donuts, and chatted about the forthcoming barn building.
I wondered if Jake would get coffee, but he continued to stare at the barn.
“Eva.” I recognized my father’s voice.
I twirled around. “Dat! You came all this way?”
“Yah, we wouldn’t miss it. Just left one of your mamm’s breakfast casseroles on a table by the house.” He wore his straw hat and a black work jacket.
“But how did you know?”
“We could see the orange sky and heard the sirens all the way from our house.” He waved at several bearded friends. “Nothing like a barn fire to bring the community together.”
I noticed Amish women greeting Mamm, who deposited plastic containers on a table amid a growing accumulation of food and then trudged our way.
“How did you get here so early?” I asked her.
“I rose at three thirty to cook breakfast for the workers. Fortunately, we had plenty of eggs on hand. Several neighbors hired a van, and we all chipped in.” She gave me a hug. “When we heard you were in the barn at the time, we were beyond thrilled to find you were all right.” She gave me another hug. “Praise Gott.”
Bishop Harvey ambled over to us. “ ’Tis a shame tragedy is a catalyst that encourages unity. But ‘all things work together for good to them that love God,’ yah?”
I recognized Mamm’s favorite verse from the Bible, Romans 8:28. She’d certainly recited it enough times, even when I saw nothing good in a situation.
“But a man may have died in the fire, and this couple lost their barn,” I told him.
The bishop spoke without hesitation. “Then it was Gott’s will.” I’d heard that explanation for death and tragedy my whole life, but I still didn’t understand or quite believe it. How could the fire and Ralph’s demise possibly be God’s will? How could my living as a spinster be God’s will?
Dat sounded upbeat. “I already heard neighbors corralled the horses and the cow and are putting them up in their barns.”
“Well, I’ll be.” Stephen watched Ralph’s brother, Bill, zoom up in his pickup.
“Now what?” I said. “Do you think he’s heard about Ralph?”
“No doubt,” Stephen said. “He could probably smell the smoke from his home, and surely he heard the sirens last night.”
My parents went back to the Schmuckers’ house as Bill vaulted out of his vehicle and tromped over to a police officer. Bill’s arms moved erratically, his gestures jerky. The officer seemed to be trying to calm him down, but to no avail. Bill spotted Stephen and pointed at him.
“Look out, Evie,” Stephen said. “Here comes trouble.”
Heath’s hackles raised as Bill plodded over to us and jabbed Stephen in the chest with his index finger. “That dog killed another one of my sheep last night.”
“That’s impossible.” I wedged myself between the two men. “Heath was with me or in the main house all night. I don’t know what’s killing your sheep, but it’s not our dog. He was in this barn when it caught fire and kept the farmer’s stallion from trampling my friend.”
The police officer strode over. “Hey, Bill. What’s going on?”
“You know about my sheep? I lost another one last night.”
“Sorry to hear that, but can’t you see we have our hands full here?” The officer’s face grew solemn, the corners of his mouth angling down. “Bill, we tried to find you last night, but you weren’t home. Do you know where Ralph is?”
“Me and the wife were out well past midnight. My brother’s probably in my basement sleeping off a hangover. Why?”
“We have witnesses who claim Ralph was here last night. His cigarette may have started this fire.”
Bill seemed to shrink in stature. “If he did, maybe this will knock some sense into him. Nothing I’ve said or done has made a whit of difference.”
“No one’s seen him since the hayloft went up in flames. I hate to be the one to tell you, but your brother may have died last night in the fire.”
“I don’t believe you.” Bill closed his eyes. “No way is my brother dead.”
The officer persisted. “Would you please call home and ask your wife to check on him? Unless you want to drive home and do it yourself.”
“Listen, buddy, I don’t have to do what you say.” Bill’s face was ghostly pale.
“If you’d rather I sent a couple of my officers over there, I will. This is official police business.”
“Okay, okay. Don’t get all bent out of shape.” Bill opened his cell phone, did whatever was necessary to place the call, and said, “Hey, sugar. Would you do me a big favor?” He turned his back for a few minutes, and then he rotated to face the police officer. “My wife checked. Ralph ain’t there, but that’s nothing new. He don’t show up sometimes, even for days at a time.” Bill winced as he surveyed the trucks filled with charred wreckage. A veil of sadness seemed to cover his ornery features. “Are you trying to tell me Ralph was responsible for this fire? I don’t believe it.” He pointed at Stephen and me. “I’d bet you anything one of them is the arsonist.”
Two more flatbed trucks arrived to haul off rubble. Their tires sank into the muddy slush, but the vehicles didn’t slow until they’d reached a hard surface.
Dozens more Amish and Englisch men, some wearing tool belts, appeared and seemed eager to join the cleanup project. The trucks’ rumbling engines and the men’s chatter drowned out Bill’s tirade. Stephen slipped his hand under my elbow and steered me toward the nursery. The dogs kept their gazes fixed on Bill as they trailed Stephen.
“Let’s get back to make sure everything’s running as it should be.” He kept a tight grip on the dogs’ leashes.
I caught Mamm’s attention and waved goodbye, assuming she and Dat would realize I had to get back to the café. I planned to introduce myself to the Schmuckers later—if they’d speak to me once they found out my involvement with the fire.
Stephen allowed the dogs to pull on their leashes. “We may be swamped with business with all these cars. The drivers might wander into the café with empty stomachs and demand a meal. We’ll probably have a bare-bones staff if most of the men at the nursery want to help build the new barn. I’ll pay them their usual salary.”
“Did Beatrice mention what kind of soup she’s making today?”
“No, but I bet it’s another one of her mother’s favorite recipes from the old country.” He slowed his pace. “I’m glad you two get along. At first, I was concerned. She can be a bit stubborn.”
“Yah, me too. But she and I have become friends.” I hoped. When the Yoders returned, Beatrice might have nothing to do with me. She’d be too busy taking care of their little girl to help out in the café.
I felt anxious about meeting Glenn, my real boss, the man with the final say as to whether I’d remain here. And his wife, Rose. Wives could influence their husbands. For better or for worse.
THIRTY-FOUR
Stephen was right about the café’s business being brisk. I was grateful for Beatrice’s help. She prepared three kinds of soup, both in expectation of a large crowd and to share later with the workers across the street.
“No sign of Mark,” Sadie said. “He must be helping with the barn raising, assuming they were able to get started.”
Later that morning, Wayne slogged in, his eyes puffy. I breezed over to him with a mug of coffee. “Have you been up all night?”
“No. My wife i
nsisted I come home and sleep a few hours and at least have some breakfast.” His hand reached out. “But I’ll take that coffee. Thanks.”
“On the house. Anything new happening over at the barn?”
“Yeah. The arson inspector finished his work.”
“Any sign of Ralph?”
“Nope. So far, no human remains, cremated or otherwise. An officer went to Bill’s house to let him know. I hope he contacts us if Ralph shows up.”
I sank into a chair with relief, but I had no idea how Ralph got out of that burning loft. “Could the inspectors have been mistaken?”
“Between you and me, I wondered the same thing. But it’s unlikely.”
“Anything else you can tell me?”
“Men are contemplating whether to replace the barn’s foundation. The concrete isn’t that old, and it may be salvageable. Not that I know much about barn building. Bishop Harvey is the expert. He, along with several other men with experience, will decide.”
He flattened his palms together. “Say, mind if I give you some advice? If you see Ralph’s brother, Bill, again, steer clear of him. A family of hotheads. I told Bill two days ago I suspected coyotes were responsible for killing his lambs, but he wouldn’t believe me. He still kept blaming the Yoders’ Lab. I warned him he should bring his sheep in at night and advised him to buy himself a herding dog to protect his flock, but he paid no heed.”
He scanned the area, I assumed to make sure no one was listening in. “About the unpleasant dent in my squad car—I didn’t press charges against you. Jake paid for the damages, and what prosecutor in the county would take you to court?”
“Jake paid?” How sweet. Why hadn’t he told me so I could thank him?
“Stephen offered to pay too, but Jake beat him to it. That’s a first. Two men offering to pay for a dent neither made.” He stroked his chin. “You certainly are a popular girl.”
“Ach, no I’m not.”
“Could have fooled me.” He swallowed his remaining coffee, handed me his empty cup, and left.