by Kate Lloyd
“Hi, Wayne,” Jake said.
Wayne nodded in return.
A moment later Stephen joined us. “Something going on I should know about?”
“Bill and Ralph are on a rampage,” Wayne said. “They’ve filed complaints against you, Evie, and Jake. Even Glenn’s dog.”
Stephen wiped his sweaty forehead with a handkerchief. “I’d better call Glenn and let him know. He may want us to use his attorney.”
“I’m not paying Glenn’s attorney five hundred dollars an hour for him to defend me against some lamebrain false accusation,” Jake said. “If I hadn’t shown up last night, who knows what would have happened to Evie?”
I recalled the feel of Ralph’s arm around my neck and trembled at the narrowness of my escape. Jake had rescued me.
“What exactly were you doing there, Jake?” Wayne’s demeanor turned rigid, his knees locked.
“Yeah, I’d like to know the same thing.” Stephen jutted out his chin.
“I wanted to speak to Evie about visiting my dat.” Thankfully, Jake didn’t elaborate further.
“You don’t have permission to enter the nursery after hours.” Stephen folded his arms across his chest. “I’m tempted to take out a restraining order to keep you off the property permanently.”
The muscles on Jake’s jawline twitched. “Can he do that?” he asked Wayne.
“Well, I don’t know. Glenn could.”
“I’ll suggest it to Glenn next time I talk to him.” Stephen’s voice was terse, his words clipped.
“Have you spoken to Glenn recently?” Wayne asked Stephen.
“We keep in touch. But I’ve kept the conversations lighthearted. Glenn’s father-in-law may only have days to live. Glenn has worries enough, and his wife and daughter need him.” He rubbed his chin. “In retrospect, it was a mistake to hold anything back. But my guess is Beatrice speaks to Rose daily.”
“You’d better give him the full scoop today.” Wayne’s gaze turned to the road as a pickup cruised to a halt. “This problem isn’t going away by itself.”
THIRTY-NINE
Please tell me that isn’t Bill Hastings.” Stephen angled his body away from Wayne.
“That’s Ralph’s brother?” Jake asked, watching Bill exit his vehicle and tromp toward us.
My hand at my throat, I wanted to escape. To bolt across the road, hide in my cabin, and lock the door. No, I still wouldn’t be safe. And a cowardly act would make me seem guilty of crimes I hadn’t committed.
Bill tromped over to us. “Well, now ain’t this handy?” Bill reminded me of Dat’s bull when riled. He turned to Wayne. “I hope you’ve filled these lowlifes in. How Ralph and I won’t tolerate their insults and accusations anymore. Someone’s gonna pay.” He glanced at the barn out of the corner of his eye. Half the men had stopped working and stared back at him.
Bishop Harvey climbed down a ladder and strode over to us. He put out his hand to shake Bill’s. “Hello, I’m Harvey.”
Bill seemed reluctant to shake his hand. “Yeah, I know who you are. Someone told me you’re an Amish bishop, which means nothing to me. Don’t expect me to kneel down and kiss your ring.”
Harvey smiled. “I don’t even wear a wedding ring, so no problems there. And no one has ever bowed down to me. Although I might be able to help out if you’d accept my input.”
“Nah. How could you possibly help? I know how you Amish think. Forgive and forget. Well, the people in this county won’t forget what’s been said about my brother and me. And I sure won’t forget the Yoders’ dog biting me. He could have rabies, for all I know.”
“He’s been vaccinated,” Stephen said, but Bill ignored him.
“But the dog bit me, right? I still think it killed some of my lambs. And now Ralph has been accused of burning a barn and accosting a young woman. He had to spend the night in jail.”
I mashed my lips together to keep silent. Ralph had attacked me and might have killed me if Jake hadn’t shown up and let Heath in.
Harvey seemed to be pondering as he stroked his beard. “Perhaps you could go speak to your own minister, Bill.”
“Look, you’re not my bishop, so don’t bother preaching to me.” Bill snorted a laugh. “I gave up that phony-bologna Bible business years ago. The only part I remember is an eye for an eye.”
“Did ya never hear ‘Love your neighbor as yourself’?” Harvey’s voice remained calm.
“Oh, you mean like God does? Don’t make me gag. Those platitudes mean nothing.”
“Has no one ever forgiven you when you didn’t deserve it?” Harvey asked.
“That’s a trick question, isn’t it?” Bill blinked. “God died the day my mother did. I was six years old.”
Harvey rubbed his palms together. I figured he was weighing his words. “Did your father remarry?”
“No. And he never forgave Ralph and me for nothing. When he came home snookered, we used to hide out in the barn.”
“Where is he now?”
“Not in heaven, that’s for sure.” Bill swiped his nose with his cuff. “One snowy night when I’d just turned eighteen, Dad’s car skidded off the road and down an embankment. He was barely holding on according to the only witness, an Amish man, who didn’t have a cell phone to call 9-1-1. By the time the medics finally arrived, it was too late.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Harvey said. “Losing both of your parents must have been very difficult.”
Bill’s mouth twisted. “If that Amish guy had owned a cell phone and a car, our father might have made it. You Amish are all screwed up.”
Harvey stood in silence for a moment. “God’s ways are difficult to understand.”
“That makes you pretty dumb. I mean, you only went to the eighth grade and haven’t even been to divinity school, and yet you claim to be a bishop.”
“Many would agree with you.” I imagined Harvey had plenty on his mind, but he didn’t defend himself.
“Hey, Bill. This isn’t the time or place,” Wayne said.
Bill clenched his fists.
“Don’t make this situation worse.” Wayne raised his hand to chest level, as if ready to ward off a punch.
“How are you with a hammer?” Harvey asked Bill. “We could use another hand on this barn.”
“Yeah, right. As if I’d help out an Amish farmer.”
“Well, there’s coffee and food over there. You’re welcome to a snack.”
“Look, I don’t want anything from you because then you’d think I owed you.”
“I’m surprised no one helped feed you when your father died,” Harvey said.
“A few neighbors brought food over, and we ate it only because we were hungry. Our father always said, ‘Don’t take nothing from no one. There’s always a catch.’ ”
Despite everything, my heart went out to this wounded man. Not that I trusted him. Not that his circumstances gave him the right to hurt others. But still, I felt pity for him. I knew I had been gullible much of my life, but he trusted no one. I had to ask myself if I had become guilty of the same trait.
I walked over to the food table and returned with napkins and a paper plate supporting several donuts and other baked goods. “May I tempt anyone?”
Wayne’s hand flew out to snag a sugar-covered donut. “I couldn’t refuse a lady.” He bit into it and then grabbed a napkin as the creamy filling dripped down his chin.
“How about you, Bill?”
I could tell Bill was wavering by the way he shifted his weight back and forth, but he shook his head. “I haven’t been working. You’ll all take this as a sign I won’t press charges.”
“No, we won’t. There’s coffee over there too.”
Apparently, Bill couldn’t resist the chocolate donut. He reached out to take it. “Yeah, well, this doesn’t change anything.” He chomped a mouthful. “Where’s the coffee?”
I pointed to the cups on the table, and he sauntered off to fetch some. I noticed his shoulders had relaxed and his gait turned ea
sy.
The clanging of hammers resumed. The chatter of men working on the barn started up again.
“Good work, Eva.” Wayne tidied his mouth, wadded up the napkin, and stuffed it into his jacket pocket. “I thought I was going to be in the middle of a fistfight. I would have hated to give up that donut before I finished it.”
“A temporary lull in the storm.” Stephen kicked a pebble. “But I agree with Wayne. Evie calmed the turbulent waters.” He sent me a smile.
“Don’t get any ideas,” Jake said. “She and I are going to get married.”
Harvey’s eyebrows lifted. “Are you sure you wish to speak of private matters in public?”
I waited to see a sign of contrition on Jake’s face, but his features seethed with frustration. Finally, he turned to face Harvey and then me, and said, “You’re right. I apologize. Lots of work yet to do here, but I need to return home to my dat.”
He pivoted and marched back to the barn, which was nearing completion—on the outside, anyway. Over my shoulder I watched Jake’s departing form and felt more confused than ever.
I tracked down my parents and found them preparing to leave, their buggy all hitched.
Dat’s eyes brightened when he saw me. If we’d been Englisch, I know he would have hugged me and told me he loved me in front of everyone.
“Your mamm says you’re doing a fine job at the café,” he told me. “But then you’ve always been capable at whatever you’ve pursued.”
“To be honest, I still can’t cook very well.”
“But you’re learning, I assume.”
“Yah, I’m getting better.”
“No thanks to me,” Mamm said. “I wasn’t a very gut teacher.”
“You’re the best mamm in the world,” I said. “And I told you before, I liked being in the barn with Dat.”
Again, Dat’s eyes lit up with delight.
“You did well working at Zook’s Fabrics,” Marta said. She was reporting positively about me? “And from what I saw today, you run the café seamlessly. I think you’d be bored silly baking at home, even if you ran the roadside stand.” The hem of her dress fluttered in the breeze as she swayed back and forth. “Anyway, our plans have changed. I’ve spoken to several women in the last few hours who are looking for places to sell their quilts. Your mother was one of them. I’ve admired her quilts but didn’t think she’d wish to sell them.” She rubbed her belly. “I’ve been stupid to miss such a great opportunity. Your mamm can babysit and quilt at the same time.”
My brother and Marta were having another baby? I didn’t dare ask.
“Anyway, I’m sorry for being such a ninny,” she told me. “Reuben made it clear he doesn’t want a bakery business, but I wouldn’t listen. Raising our children and keeping the farm going is more important. Not to mention obeying my husband. Reuben told me to apologize to you and I am. I was acting selfishly and bossy. I’m sorry.”
“No need to apologize.” And yet I savored her words. She put out her hand to shake mine, but I hugged her instead. I felt my fondness for her expanding.
At that moment Reuben strode over to us, looking beat. “Someone just offered me a ride home, and I think I’d better accept it. I’ve so much to do yet today. Maybe if I leave now, I’ll be done by the time you get home.”
“You go ahead and don’t worry about us,” Marta said.
“Yah, I’ll do the driving,” Dat said. He looked tired, too, but a good kind of tired.
“See ya later.” Reuben strode off and met up with Jake, of all people. What on earth?
Before leaving, Dat spoke in my ear, claiming my attention. “I know you’re not a little girl anymore, but I don’t want you going over to the café at night alone,” he said.
So he’d heard the whole story. That probably meant everyone in the county had.
FORTY
Beatrice and Heath accompanied me to the café to check the place over before turning in.
“Stephen’s orders,” Beatrice had said.
“Yah, he already told me to not walk there alone. As well as my dat.”
“Do you want to sleep in the big house with me tonight?” Her question caught me by surprise. My head swung around to see her serious expression.
“That big old house has a guest room Rose’s sister and husband use when they visit. It has a nice, comfy queen-sized bed.” Beatrice watched me lock the café and double-check the door.
“Thanks for the kind offer, but I’m content in the cabin with all my things.” Including my book. The heroine had returned to Great Britain and the story lagged, but I wanted to finish it.
“Do you miss Italy?” I asked her.
“Often. But I remind myself my relatives came here for a purpose. This is where I belong. Are you thinking you’d like to visit Italy?”
“It sounds so beautiful.”
“So is Lancaster County. If it’s a change of scenery you’re seeking, maybe there’s somewhere closer by. You’re not thinking of leaving the café, are you?”
“No, I just got started. Oh, I don’t know what I want. I thought I did growing up, but now I’m conflicted.”
“Everyone goes through that. Particularly unmarried women your age. Well, even if they’re married.” She patted her cheek, as if deep in thought. “Or were married…”
I imagined she was thinking of her deceased husband.
“I wasn’t in love with my husband when we married,” she said. “Maybe not for the first five years. First impressions can be wrong, don’t you think?”
“Yes.” I recalled meeting Beatrice and not liking her one bit, but I’d been wrong about her. “Life is so confusing sometimes.”
“Are you talking about Jake? Or Stephen? I couldn’t help but notice Stephen is infatuated with you.”
“Yah, those two men, and about joining the church.”
“Sometimes I find my answers in the Bible. Proverbs 3:5 says, ‘Trust in the LORD with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding.’ ”
“Hey, are you the one who put the Bible by my bed?”
She smirked. “Guilty as charged.”
“Thanks. I’ve been reading it. I want to trust God, but when I pray, he doesn’t tell me what I should do.” I thought about all the nights I’d lain in bed praying the Lord would bring Jake home. But would that have solved all my problems?
“And then there’s the Ordnung,” I said. “So many rules that make little sense when you think about it.”
“You should talk to Bishop Harvey about that. The Catholic church isn’t perfect either, but don’t tell anyone I said so.” She winked. “I’m glad you came here. At first I had my doubts, but I was wrong. You’re a fine, hard-working girl.” She grinned when I winced. “Yes, you’re a girl compared to me. But I’m the one who acted immaturely.”
I recalled how judgmental I’d been. “Ach, I’m certainly less than perfect.” No need to hurt her feelings by telling her my initial reaction.
“Aren’t we all?” She hugged me. A real hug. And I hugged her back.
“Now, about tonight,” she said, releasing me. “You want Heath to stay with you?”
“Better not. If he ran off—oh my, what an uproar.” I recalled my first night here. “Do you think Minnie would stay with me? She’d bark if someone were prowling around.”
“Are you hoping Jake will come see you?”
“No, and if he does—if anyone does—I’ll simply refuse to open the door so Minnie can’t escape.” I was in no mood to see Jake even though he’d been kind enough to give my brother a ride home. “But I do want to visit Amos again one day.”
“I’ll ask Stephen to drive us over there after work tomorrow. If he’s free. Would that be okay?”
“Yah, I’d appreciate it. Amos could die before I say goodbye.”
“I’ll make something to take Ruth. That poor woman.” She tilted her head. “Whether you call Jake and tell him we’re coming with Stephen is up to you. But I don’t want those two men arg
uing in front of Amos and Ruth.”
“I think we’re better off just showing up.” At least I was.
“Did I mention I’ve known Amos all my life? Ruth too. My parents rented a small house between their childhood homes. Stop me if I’m repeating myself.”
“Did Amos and Ruth love each other way back then?”
“Smitten is a better word. They used to meet secretly in our small apple orchard…”
“Sounds romantic.”
“Yes, it was. But over the years Amos’s heart grew bitter. I saw less of him, so I don’t know the cause of his anger.”
“But you lived right next door to him.”
“Well, Amos went to his Amish one-room school and my parents insisted I go to Catholic school. I got a good education, even if one nun hated me.” She gave the back of her hand a fake swat with her first two fingers. “Can you believe I’ve held on to that grudge so long?”
“Maybe she was mean to everyone.”
“It didn’t seem that way. She probably wanted what was best for me, but I was a strong-willed adolescent. That’s why my parents arranged my marriage, even though I loved another young man.”
Her dismal reality struck me like a slap on my face. “I’m so sorry.” What else could I offer her? “Is the other man still around? Not that it’s any of my business.”
“We actually eloped, but my parents caught up with us and had the marriage annulled. And then they forced me into an arranged marriage I didn’t want. Of course, after that, my boyfriend gave up on me. He still lives in these parts.”
“Was it Amos?”
“No.” She grinned and wagged her head. “You’ve been reading too many romance novels.”
“Was he not Catholic?” I knew I was being nosy, but my curiosity was riled up.
“Yes, he was Catholic, but from a poor family. After my parents had our marriage annulled, he joined the military so he could go to college, where he met his wife. All that seems a lifetime ago.” She expelled a lengthy breath.