by Leslie Gould
Thankful I was the one outside and not Beatrice or Ivan, I put a smile on my face. But as the car came closer, I saw the passenger was an Amish man—Bob Miller. I squinted, wondering why he’d come by our house the day before his wedding.
I headed to the car, meeting him as he climbed out. He had a folder in his hands. “How is your Mamm doing?” he asked.
“Good,” I responded. “Do you have time to come in?” I shaded my eyes with my hand.
“I’d love to,” he said. “But I’m on my way to the hospital. Betsy’s in labor.”
“Oh dear,” I said. “She’s a few weeks early, right?”
“Jah. She was late with the first two. We didn’t think she’d be early with this one.”
I nodded, understanding he and Nan wouldn’t have scheduled their wedding when they did if they’d suspected Betsy would be having a baby.
“I’ve come up with some more ideas for your business.” He handed the folder to me. “Give this to your Mamm when she feels up to it. Then, in a week or two, we can talk.”
I took it from him. “Denki.”
“You can look at it too,” he said. “Not that you need my permission.”
My face grew warm as I glanced toward the car. The only other person in it was the driver. “Is Nan at your house?” I asked.
He shook his head and then climbed into the passenger seat, leaving the door open. “She’s already at the hospital.”
“What about Cate?”
“She’s home.” He pulled the door shut but quickly opened the window. “Actually,” he said, “she could use some help getting ready for the wedding. Is there any chance . . . ?” He grimaced. “What am I thinking? You have plenty going on.”
“No, I can help. Ivan and Edna are both here,” I said.
He smiled. “Her Aenti Laurel is over—she’s the organizer for the wedding.” I nodded, not surprised. For most Amish weddings, a close relative handled that job. “And Nell and Addie are over too, but Laurel isn’t feeling well. I told her she should go on home, but she hadn’t when I left. Could you give Cate a call? I think she could use your help. She and Pete are finishing an order for me, so she’s in her office.” He smiled again. “Denki.”
“See you at the wedding,” I said.
He smiled again. “God willing.”
I waved as the driver maneuvered the car around and then pulled out my cell phone and called Cate.
Chapter
21
That evening after supper, I waited for Cate out on the porch with Love at my feet. Cate couldn’t get away as early as she had hoped and ended up spending most of the afternoon helping Nell and Addie. A hummingbird flew in and fed at the feeder, seemingly unaware of me. Across the highway the faint sound of a woodpecker reverberated against our house. The redheaded woodpecker had always been my favorite. I thought of them as a hardworking bird.
I stood, thinking Cate should have arrived by now, and headed down the steps. Under the oak tree two birds pecked in the thin grass. Gray-and-white birds. I stopped. The mockingbirds had returned. Thinking of the first page in Mamm’s book, I started back up the steps to tell Mamm but then heard a buggy coming up the drive. I’d tell her later.
Love ran out ahead of me toward the birds, and I called her back. She didn’t obey, and I shouted again, “Love!”
She came, settling down by the back door. The mockingbirds flew up into the tree.
Much to my surprise, Cate had Robbie with her. The little boy was sitting next to her, a frown on his face.
“He’s been out of sorts,” she said. “He wouldn’t go to Pete or Addie. He only wanted me, so I decided to bring him along. They both have so much to do. I figured he’d be fine riding with us. Robbie scooted closer to Cate.
“Hold on just a second,” I said and ran back to the house and up the stairs to my room, grabbing the carved horse.
When I returned I handed the toy to Robbie. He clutched it but didn’t smile.
“Ach, how sweet of you,” Cate said. “Denki.” She lifted her nephew’s chin. “What do you say?”
He shook his head solemnly, his curls bouncing back and forth.
“Robbie.”
“It’s okay,” I answered. Poor guy. He seemed awfully out of sorts. “I can drive,” I said. I was a little leery of Cate’s horse, but I figured with her along he wouldn’t misbehave. She handed me the reins, and Robbie crawled up on her lap, the toy in his fist. As her horse sped down the highway, she said, “Thank you so much for calling. I needed to get away from there. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate Laurel and Nell, and especially Addie, I really do . . .”
We were headed to the next district over to borrow a third church wagon for the wedding. These wagons were moved from home to home with everything needed for Sunday services . . . and weddings.
“Sounds like there’s going to be a huge crowd,” I said.
“Jah, which we expected. But we didn’t anticipate Betsy going into labor early.” She sighed. “We’ll just have to trust God to work it all out.”
“How are you feeling?” I asked.
“Oh, fine . . .” She glanced my way and then asked, “Why?”
“Oh . . .”
She smiled and then said, “Dat didn’t say anything, did he?”
“No.” My face grew warm. “I shouldn’t have said that. There was just a moment, while we were camping, that I wondered . . . if . . . you know . . .” I stumbled over my words.
“I might be pregnant?”
“Jah . . .” Overcome with embarrassment, I feared she wasn’t.
She didn’t answer for a long moment, but then said, “You guessed right. I am. But we’re not telling anyone. Well, Nan guessed it too, and she told Dat.”
“I won’t say a thing,” I said. “Except that I’m really happy for the two of you.”
“Denki.” Cate beamed brighter than I’d ever seen her, snuggling closer to Robbie. “So are we, God willing that this one is meant to be.”
I didn’t pry. “Well, he certainly has blessed you so far.”
“Ach, Molly, you’ll be where I am in a few years. Married. Settled in a home. Pregnant.”
I felt the tears starting again and turned my head toward the field of knee-high corn to my right.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Everything’s ruined,” I said.
“Between you and Leon?”
I nodded, my head still turned.
“But Mervin likes Hannah again, right?”
“Jah, but Hannah thinks Mervin is teasing her. I told him I’d try to talk with her, but I haven’t seen her. Mervin’s afraid she’s falling for Leon since they spend so much time together.” I pulled back on the reins to slow Cate’s horse as we rounded a curve. “Who in their right mind would choose Mervin over Leon?”
Cate laughed but then stopped abruptly. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Hasn’t Hannah liked Mervin for a long time?”
“Jah.”
“They make a good couple. Leon is definitely more your type.”
“But I’m not his,” I said.
“How so?”
“I’m not good with horses, for one thing.”
She urged hers to go faster again, even though I was driving. “You can learn.”
I made a face.
“Or not,” she quickly said.
“Besides, I’m not that good with kids. And he’s crazy about them.”
“Oh, that’s what that was all about—Hannah holding Robbie so much.” She rested her chin on top of her nephew’s head.
“Jah, but she wasn’t doing it to attract attention. She really likes kids.”
“Most girls do,” Cate said with a nod. “Personally, I didn’t. It wasn’t until I got married, well, until Pete and I really came to love each other, that I started wanting to have a baby. Once Robbie came around I was smitten, but before that I was exactly like you.” She smiled. “Leon probably didn’t even notice.”
“I doubt that.”
I shook my head.
I pulled the reins to the left, turning Cate’s horse across the highway and onto a side road. Then she looked at me again, an expression of sympathy on her face. “Things really will get better,” she said. “I promise. If Leon isn’t the one for you, then God has someone else.”
“That’s just it. I don’t want anyone else. I want Leon.”
“Then don’t give up.”
I nodded, although I had no idea what that meant right now.
Cate added, “Don’t be so hard on yourself. Your Dat’s passing was so recent. Now your Mamm has all these health concerns, not to mention the business problems. If you don’t feel your usual self, don’t despair. You will again. It takes time.”
We rode in silence for a few minutes as I mulled over her words.
Then, as I pulled into the next driveway, she said, “Something that took me a long time to learn was to extend grace to myself too. Up until then . . .” She shook her head. “Well, let’s just say I’m not sure how others put up with me at all.”
An old man started to step down from the porch when he saw us, pointing toward the church wagon by the barn. Robbie stirred as I stopped the buggy. He’d fallen asleep and clung to Cate.
“Could you take him?” Cate asked me.
“I can try.” I wasn’t optimistic at all. But, perhaps because he was so tired, he allowed his aunt to slip him into my arms, the toy still in his hand. Cate hopped down from the buggy, and I slowly stepped to the ground.
The man helped unhitch Cate’s horse from the buggy and hitch it to the church wagon.
“I—or someone—will be back with it on Saturday,” she said. “And to pick up my buggy.”
As we climbed onto the bench, me still holding Robbie, the man’s wife came out of the house carrying a stack of bowls. “Don’t forget these,” she said.
“There’s no more room in the back,” her husband said.
I scooted closer to Cate, and she put them on the floor of the wagon, in front of the bench.
Then the man said, “I forgot the chairs.” He headed into his barn and returned with six folding chairs. “I told your Dat I’d send these along.”
He moved the bowls to the bench and then wedged the chairs onto the floor, forcing me even closer to Cate with my feet turned toward hers at an angle. We both giggled. Robbie stirred a little and then settled back against me.
Cate thanked the man, and we were soon back on the road. Robbie’s warm body molded against mine. I sniffed the top of his sweaty head, but it wasn’t a bad smell. There was a sweetness mixed in with the sweat from his curly hair.
Cate asked, “Mind if I stop at the park to use the restroom?”
“Of course not,” I said. It wasn’t much out of the way, and the evening was beautiful.
There was a crowd in the park, maybe as many as two hundred people, and obviously some sort of production going on. Performers, dressed in a variety of costumes—Englisch clothes from a few decades before, wide skirts and narrow ties, and then what looked like some kind of primitive people—milled about on the amphitheater stage.
“Oh good,” Cate said, scooting forward on the bench. “I know we can’t stay to watch it, but I hoped they were doing a play tonight.” She pointed toward the restrooms. “I just need a quick stop. Then we’ll be on our way.”
As she drove the church wagon through the parking lot, heads turned toward us, mostly tourists I was sure, and I wished I’d brought the fliers for our farmers’ market.
Cate stopped the wagon in the no-parking zone along the restrooms and then handed me the reins. “I’ll be right back,” she whispered.
Robbie stirred but didn’t wake.
I scanned the crowd, not surprised we were the only Plain people in sight. Then I watched the production. An Englisch girl chased another Englisch girl across the stage. Then a man, barely dressed, hopped out from behind a cardboard tree. I squinted, trying to make sense of it all.
A movement in the real trees, along the edge of the park, caught my attention, distracting me from the performance.
A Plain man rode a horse, followed by someone else on a horse. I groaned out loud. It was Leon and Hannah, riding along the pathway, coming toward us, but then they stopped by an oak tree and Hannah slid off Lightning. She staggered a little and then leaned against the tree. Leon jumped off Storm and took the reins from Hannah.
The sight of them made my heart hurt, but it looked as if Hannah was ill, and that worried me. I waved, but Leon didn’t respond.
When Cate came out of the restroom, I pointed toward the tree. “I’ll go check,” she said.
By the time she was halfway to the tree, Leon had seen us. He said something to Hannah, and she looked up, but then put her hands on her knees and leaned forward, as if she might faint.
Cate talked with them for a few minutes and then, holding Hannah’s arm, started back toward the wagon. Leon followed, leading the two horses.
“What’s the matter?” I asked when they’d nearly reached us, keeping my voice low.
“Vertigo,” Cate answered.
“Uh-oh,” I responded. Hannah used to get it a few years ago—some sort of inner ear problem.
“It came on really suddenly,” Cate said. “She almost fell off Lightning.”
“I can’t ride home,” Hannah groaned.
“Of course not,” Cate said. “I’ll take you home.”
Hannah nodded, grateful for the offer. I glanced at the chairs on the bench. We’d have to leave some of this behind to make room.
I gave Cate a searching look. She nodded toward Leon and the horses. “Would you consider riding Lightning back?”
“Of course not,” I answered.
Leon was close enough to hear and flashed me a smile. “Lightning’s cured of her fear of dogs. I worked on it all week.”
“You can lead her,” I said. “I’d rather walk.” We weren’t too far from Hannah’s farm. I scooted off the bench with Robbie, holding him tightly. Once I was on the pavement, I told Hannah, “I’ll hand him to you when you get up there.”
She shook her head and pulled away from Cate. “I feel like I’m going to be sick.”
We all waited for a long minute until the danger seemed to have passed, and Hannah climbed up on the bench. “I can’t hold him,” she said.
“I’ll take him,” Cate said.
I started to pass him up to her but he began to whimper and cling to me. Cate took him anyway, but he began to scream.
Several people watching the play turned their heads. I quickly took Robbie back. “I’ll walk with him,” I said.
“It’s too far,” Cate whispered.
“I’ll take the shortcut and meet you at Hannah’s house.”
“I’ll go with her,” Leon said.
Cate hesitated a moment and then agreed. Hannah closed her eyes and tipped her head back against the seat. Cate pulled the wagon around and headed for the road. I watched the performance as I followed Leon toward the trail. Two girls were back on stage, along with two men.
The taller woman said, “‘Good Hermia, do not be so bitter with me. I evermore did love you, Hermia. . . .’”
The actress continued, “‘Save that, in love unto Demetrius, I told him of your stealth unto this wood. He followed you. For love I followed him.’”
I stopped, patting Robbie’s back to keep him quiet as I did, and missed a few of the woman’s words, but then she said, “‘And follow you no further. Let me go.’”
Leon looked back at me.
The taller woman, who had been talking, appeared mad. She spoke again, saying, “‘Oh, when she’s angry, she is keen and shrewd! She was a vixen when she went to school. And though she be but little, she is fierce.’”
My face grew warm. I couldn’t help but think of Hannah and me, thinking I had been the one acting like a fierce vixen.
Leon motioned for me to come along as an Englisch woman, probably a
grandma, stopped beside me coming back from the restroom for a peek at Robbie.
“What’s the play?” I whispered to her.
“A Midsummer Night’s Dream.”
I gave her a questioning look.
“Shakespeare,” she added.
“Oh,” I said, although that didn’t give me much more of an explanation. I’d heard of him, but that was all.
“Cute baby,” she said.
“Denki,” I answered, still watching the stage—until she smiled at Leon. That I caught. I guessed she thought we were married and Robbie was ours.
“‘Love looks not with the eyes but with the mind,’” the woman whispered.
“What?”
“It’s from the play. Seeing you and your husband together with the horses and the baby made me think of that.”
My face grew even warmer, but I didn’t say a word, and after a moment she continued on, sitting back down on the edge of the crowd, and my eyes fell back on the stage. The half-clothed young man waited along the side, ready to go back on the stage.
The shortcut was a trail through a wooded area along a creek. It came out close to Hannah’s house but was at least two miles, maybe farther. It had been years since I’d been on it. After I refused to ride horses with Hannah we would hike it sometimes with Mervin and Martin and some of the other Youngie in the summer. That was before we started going to parties and running around more.
By the time we neared the creek, my arms felt almost numb from carrying Robbie. I shifted his weight a little, and he snuggled even closer to me. I stopped and leaned against a tree, resting my back.
“You should get up on Lightning,” Leon said, stopping beside me. Storm snorted, but Leon pulled him closer and he stopped.
“I can’t ride at all—let alone ride and hold Robbie.”
“You wouldn’t have to ride. I’ll lead the horse.”
“How would I get up?” I asked.
“I’ll hold Robbie while you do,” he answered.
I shook my head and started walking again. What had I been thinking to offer to carry Robbie the whole way back? Asleep he was as heavy as a sack of seed.
The path widened, and Leon stepped to my side. We walked in silence for a while. I wanted to talk with him, about what went wrong, about how he felt about me, about how I felt about him. I asked God if I should bring it all up—but I didn’t feel a peace about it. I did feel an acute ache between my shoulder blades though.