by Leslie Gould
Perhaps he and I should make breakfast since it didn’t appear Cate was up yet.
I poured myself a cup of coffee—thinking of Dat as I did because the blue enamel cups were his from all those years ago—and headed to the fire to ward off the chill.
Robbie held up his hands to me.
“Goodness,” I said, catching sight of Leon out of the corner of my eye. I put my cup down on the stump by the woodpile and reached for Robbie. But again, he twisted around and dove against Pete’s chest. I wasn’t going to let a two-year-old hurt my feelings, but it was hard not to take it personally.
Leon called out a good morning. Pete responded. At their current volume, the rest of the group would be up in no time—and we could stick to my schedule.
I handed Leon my untouched coffee and filled another cup for myself as Mervin staggered out of the boys’ tent, pulling on the canvas as he did, tugging the structure so it leaned even more. “I thought I heard your voice,” he said, a smile on his face until he saw Leon. It turned into a frown.
Using my most pleasant tone, I offered him some coffee.
“Denki,” he said, coming toward me. I poured the coffee into another cup, handed it to him, and headed back to the fire. He followed.
Just as Mervin and I sat down, me in a chair next to Leon and Mervin next to me, Hannah stumbled from our tent, tying her apron as she did. She looked bleary-eyed but still as beautiful as ever, her dark hair tucked beneath her Kapp, her olive complexion glowing.
Robbie squealed in delight, far more than when he’d seen me.
Hannah’s face lit up, and both Leon and Mervin laughed. Even the horses snickered behind us.
I got up, strode over to the kitchen box, and pulled out the frying pan.
“Come sit down,” Pete said. “Cate and I’ll do all that.”
I wanted to ask when but bit my tongue.
Leon patted the chair beside him. “Come on,” he said.
I cooperated, picking up my coffee cup and strolling over to the chair I had just vacated.
Robbie lunged for Hannah. She stood and took him from Pete. The little boy wrapped his arms around her neck. Mervin didn’t take his eyes off Robbie—and Hannah.
I took a sip of my coffee. “Want to show me your artwork now?” I asked Leon.
“Sure. I’ll be right back.”
As Leon walked away, Pete stood up and headed to their tent, hopefully to wake Cate. Hannah and Mervin continued to play with Robbie. I downed half my coffee, wondering if Mamm, Edna, and Ivan had the chores done and were ready to go into town for the CT scan.
Soft murmurs came from Cate and Pete’s tent, then laughter. Robbie looked toward the voices and clapped his hands.
Hannah said, in a baby-talk voice, “Cate will be out in a minute.” I hated baby talk. I didn’t see what the point was, not when the baby needed to learn how to speak normally sooner or later anyway.
Leon returned with his leather book again and his pencil box.
“What do you have there?” Mervin asked.
Leon held up both things, as if that explained it. Then he handed me the book to look through while he opened the box. He took out a smaller cardboard box.
“Oh, look at that,” Mervin said, obviously insincere. “Pastels.”
Hannah leaned closer, Robbie still on her lap. He started to fuss and reach toward me. I ignored the baby as I opened Leon’s book. The artwork was good. There was a sketch of a horse to start with. Then a buttercup, done in pastels. Then a mountain range.
“Those are the Bitterroots,” he said. “It’s beautiful country and not too far from our ranch.”
“Ranch, huh?” Martin said. “Not a farm?”
“Definitely a ranch.” Leon took his pastels from the box.
“Color?” Robbie said.
Mervin’s voice held a hint of mockery. “What exactly is the definition of a ranch?”
“We have five-hundred acres. Lots of cattle.”
“So you really are a cowboy?”
“I drive cattle on a horse. If that makes me a cowboy, I guess so.”
Mervin smirked, pointing to the book in my hand. “And an artist?”
“No, not an artist,” Leon said.
It bordered on prideful to have Leon showing his work as it was; if he called himself an artist, we’d all be worried—even me.
I didn’t tell Leon he was good, which he definitely was. Instead, I said, “I really like these.”
Robbie squealed and then said, “Color!” again.
“What’s with him?” I asked Hannah.
“He thinks they’re crayons,” she said. “He wants to color.”
“Oh.” Maybe Cate brought some coloring books.
“I’ll do the columbine,” Leon said to me, “later today.”
“La-di-da,” Mervin said. “Columbine. In color?”
“Knock it off,” I said to Mervin.
Leon ignored him. “And the purple flower.”
Mervin smirked. It wasn’t like him to be so petty.
He crossed his arms and stared at me. Hannah pulled Robbie back against herself and looked at me too.
“What?” I said.
Robbie screamed.
I handed the book back to Leon. “I’ll be back in a little while,” I said. No one said a word as I walked away, but not in the direction of the horses. I headed toward the lake instead.
I stood with my hands in the pockets of my apron, my face turned toward the cool breeze wafting up from the water. On the opposite shore a hawk soared above the trees. Then he swerved and swooped down on the beach. I couldn’t be sure, but it was likely he’d caught a mouse. Something dangled from his talons.
“Oh no.” Beatrice stopped behind me.
“What?” I thought something had happened back at camp.
“That poor mouse, swooped away so unexpectedly.”
“It’s just a rodent,” I said. The hawk flew beyond the trees, out of sight.
“It’s one of God’s creatures,” she said.
“God designed it this way,” I answered.
She crossed her arms and didn’t say anything more.
“Did you want something?”
“The others sent me to find you.”
“The others?”
“Well, Hannah did.”
“Not Leon?”
She shook her head. “He’s taking care of the horses.”
That figured. “Why didn’t Hannah come?”
Beatrice shrugged. “I think she’s a little scared of you right now.”
Her words fell like a landslide. “Beatrice, that’s so unkind.”
“It’s true, Molly.”
“Why would she be afraid of me?”
A pathetic expression settled on her face. “The schedule? The chart? Chastising her for not doing the dishes by the time you got back last night?”
“But I do so much—organize everything, call everyone. She could at least do her part.”
She shook her head. “I’m just warning you. It’s one thing to be bossy with me, but quite another to be rude to your friends.”
“Beatrice, you—”
“It’s true. Mervin and Hannah were going to clean up last night—just not exactly when you wanted them to or how you wanted them to.”
“We are Plain,” I answered. “With certain standards . . . and expectations. After all, ‘cleanliness is next to godliness.’”
“That’s just a saying,” Beatrice said. “It’s not like it’s Scripture or anything.”
I nodded. I knew that. Still, it served my purpose.
She continued, “But it does illustrate your false sense of what’s important. You expect everyone to do things your way.”
“We do have a certain conformity in our community,” I said, doing my best not to roll my eyes. “If you haven’t noticed.”
“Jah, but your standards go beyond the norm. It’s like you don’t want anyone to have any fun.”
“That’s not true.”
I’d spent my entire Rumschpringe organizing fun. I was hurt, honestly. But maybe she was upset because Mamm had her scan in a couple of hours. Or she was feeling Dat’s loss especially hard again. Maybe the same could be said for me. . . . Maybe I had been acting differently. I certainly didn’t feel like my old self—the carefree girl who loved to organize events and gather everyone together. Instead I’d been feeling resentful and uptight.
Or maybe she was hurt because Leon was interested in me instead of her.
Beatrice pointed across the lake to a man and woman walking together. “Who is that?” They looked Amish. For a moment I feared it was Hannah and Leon.
“I don’t know,” I said, squinting. “I don’t think it’s anyone from our group though.”
“It looks like Phillip,” she said.
I shaded my eyes from the sun rising over the trees. “No,” I said. “That’s impossible.”
“No, I’m sure it is,” she said.
“Beatrice . . . let’s go back to camp.”
Halfway there, Leon met us, walking Storm.
“We’ll go for our ride after breakfast,” he said to me. “If that works with your schedule—after cleanup, of course.” He winked.
“I’ll have to double-check,” I said, tugging on the ties of my Kapp and raising my eyebrows at him.
“Jah, you do that,” he said as he walked away with Storm trailing behind. At least he could still joke.
I laughed, but my stomach lurched. I didn’t see any way out of riding.
“Leon showed me his artwork,” Beatrice said. “He’s really good.”
I nodded, hoping she didn’t think he’d shown it to her first.
“He really isn’t your type,” Beatrice said.
I stopped in the middle of the trail. “What do you mean?” I spoke in the quietest of voices.
She stopped too. “He’s sensitive and kind. And compassionate.”
I didn’t answer for a long moment. She’d said the same thing before. Finally I said, “I think you’re jealous.”
“Jealous?”
“Of Leon. And me.”
She grimaced. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“He’s the only boy you’ve ever shown any interest in.” I decided to take another approach and lighten the conversation a little. “Unless you’re interested in Ben.”
At that, she bent over as if she were sick. “Please,” she said, “don’t insult me like that.” She straightened up and stepped ahead of me, looking back over her shoulder as she spoke. “Besides, he’s as determined to stay single as I am.”
I put my hand on my hip.
She turned around and arched her eyebrows. “Maybe Ben will change his mind, but I’m serious about staying single—and if I wasn’t, he would be the last man on earth I’d ever consider joining in holy matrimony. True, Leon would be higher on the list, but I’d never move to Montana—never, ever, ever. Not even if my life—”
Before she could say any more, we were interrupted by a man calling out, “Molly!” At first I hoped it was Leon—but it wasn’t. Familiar, jah, but not welcome. It sounded like Phillip Eicher.
I gawked until the man stepped out of the shadows and waved. “I wondered if your group was camping here!”
I groaned. It was Phillip. With his girlfriend.
At the same moment, Leon approached from the opposite direction, still leading Storm.
“Hi,” Beatrice called out to him, her voice more cheerful than it had been in months.
I turned back toward Phillip, who waved wildly and headed toward us. It wasn’t as if we hadn’t seen him recently—although I hadn’t actually talked with him when he’d been on the porch with Mervin the day we came home from Mamm’s doctor’s appointment.
“How’s your mother?” he asked.
“Fine,” I answered, and then quickly said, “Phillip, I’d like you to meet Leon Fisher.” Motioning toward Leon, who had reached us too, I said, “Leon, this is Phillip Eicher.”
Leon raised his eyebrows as he took off his straw hat—I still had his cowboy hat in my tent—and extended his hand. Clearly he remembered Hannah talking about Phillip jilting me.
As they shook hands, Phillip said, “You’re not from these parts, are you?”
“That’s right,” Leon answered.
Phillip was much broader in the shoulders than Leon, and although both men were well over six feet, Phillip was a couple of inches taller. But Leon was much more handsome, with his blue eyes and his wide, open smile.
“I’m from Montana . . .” Leon’s voice trailed off as if he weren’t sure whether he should say more or not.
“Just passing through?” Phillip asked in his forceful way.
“Staying . . . for a while,” Leon responded.
For a while? That wasn’t the answer I’d expected. But then Leon winked at me, his face reddening as he did. He was only joking.
I expected Phillip to introduce his girlfriend, but he didn’t.
I stepped toward her and said, “I’m Molly. Molly Zook. And this is my sister, Beatrice.”
“Nice to meet both of you.” She turned toward me. “I’ve heard all about you.”
“Oh?” I glanced at Phillip, who’d asked Leon how old Storm was.
“Jah, not just from Phillip. I have friends who met you at a party last year.”
“Really?”
She smiled broadly, showing her straight teeth. Her dark hair and brows framed her face. Her hazel eyes sparkled.
“I’m not sure I caught your name,” I said.
“Jessie. Jessie Berg.”
“Oh.” There were many Berg families in the Lancaster area.
Jessie pointed across the lake. “We’re camping with my family and decided to go for a quick walk.”
“Why don’t you come visit our campsite?” Beatrice asked.
I nudged her.
“Oh, we shouldn’t,” Jessie answered. “My parents will wonder where we are.”
Leon put his hat back on his head. “We’d be happy to have—”
“We’ll come back after a while,” Phillip said. “How’s that?”
“Great,” Beatrice said.
I cleared my throat. “Leon and I are going riding this morning. If we’re not at the campsite when you return, it was nice to meet you, Jessie.”
Leon smiled. Storm snickered. I took a step away from Phillip.
Jessie reached for his arm and tugged on it. “My family will wonder where we are.”
I’d heard Phillip’s girlfriend wasn’t allowed to go to parties or hardly out of her parents’ sight. I was surprised one of her siblings hadn’t been sent along to chaperone.
Phillip cooperated, waving as they left.
“Seems like a nice guy,” Leon said.
Beatrice giggled.
“Stop it,” I said.
“Molly thought so too,” she sputtered. “Once upon a time.”
Phillip’s dumping me had amused both Beatrice and Hannah. The last thing I wanted was for everyone to sit around the campfire, remembering that I used to be interested in Phillip.
I’d rather die. Or ride a horse. Finally, that plan had some appeal.
Chapter
14
After breakfast I retreated to the girls’ tent, hoping for some solitude to build my courage, but Hannah followed me.
I saw my opportunity to talk with her. “Beatrice said you’re upset with me.”
Hannah shrugged. “You’ve been a little bossy, but I get it. You’re stressed about your Mamm.”
I pursed my lips. “No, I’m really not.” The fact was, my emotions felt all over the place. As happy as could be about Leon. Still grieving over Dat. Fretful about Mamm.
Maybe it was impacting me more than I realized.
Hannah leaned away from me, as if to get a wider view. “That’s good to know.”
“I’m fine. It’s everyone else who is acting weird.”
“How’s that?”
“Throwing pinecones.
Not keeping to a schedule.”
She shrugged. “We’re on vacation.”
“We still need to be organized.”
She took a deep breath and seemed as if she had more to say, but nothing came out. She shrugged again.
Last night Leon had said he expected ruts in the road when it came to love. That was true when it came to friendship too.
“Molly?” Beatrice called out.
And families. “Just a minute,” I yelled back.
“What else are you trying to organize?” Hannah asked as she knelt down on her sleeping bag.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re meddling.”
“How’s that?”
“Signing Mervin and me up for cleanup together. Bossing him around. You’re trying to get us back together.”
I started to shake my head but then stopped. Of course that was what I was doing, but she didn’t need to make it sound so sinister.
“I can win Mervin back on my own—thank you very much.” Her voice grew louder and her face reddened. “I don’t need your help. And I don’t want your help.”
“All right,” I said, concerned by her outburst. I hoped it wasn’t a sign that she was growing unstable again.
She stared at me, her face still red, her eyes dark and brooding.
I couldn’t help but remember visiting her when she was an inpatient a couple of years ago. I’d felt so helpless. I’d wanted to help her, but I’d had no idea what to do.
After a couple of days at the clinic, she’d gone through counseling. It took a while, but she got well. Her counselor encouraged her to get enough rest, eat right, talk about her feelings, and exercise, saying those were the things that could help her stay healthy. And it seemed to work for Hannah.
Still, I couldn’t help but fear she might fall into depression again.
Hannah took a deep breath, turned away from me, and began digging in her bag. “So you’re going to go riding?”
“Jah.”
“Are you sure?”
“It means a lot to Leon. I need to give it a try.”
When I’d fallen off the horse all those years ago and vowed to never get back on, it seemed reasonable. We were buggy people—not cowboys or fancy English riders. Sure some people, like Hannah’s family, rode, but it wasn’t all that common. I’d never dreamt I’d want to get back on a horse, until now.