A Welcome at Our Door

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A Welcome at Our Door Page 3

by Amy Clipston


  “Well, I should get inside.” She gestured toward the door. “I need to finish a sewing project.”

  “Thank you for the cookies.” He held up the container. “I’ll bring this back for you to refill for me.”

  She gave a little laugh. “That works.”

  He held out his hand. “I hope to see you again soon.”

  She shook his hand and smiled. “Good night.”

  As Drew started down the porch steps, he couldn’t imagine never seeing Cindy’s smile again.

  * * *

  Thursday afternoon Cindy leaned over and pulled another weed as the sun warmed her back. When she thought she felt something brush against her hip, she craned her neck, alarmed. But then she smiled.

  “What are you doing here, Bruce?” she asked.

  The dog sat back on his haunches and looked up at her, his tongue hanging out of his mouth as if he were smiling.

  “Does your dat know you’re here?” She dropped the weed into the overflowing bucket beside her and swiped her hands down her black apron.

  Bruce held up his paw, and she laughed as she shook it.

  “You’re a bit of a flirt, aren’t you?” She wagged her finger at him. “Let’s get you back home before your dat starts to worry about you—with a proper entry this time.” She started toward her home’s short driveway and whistled to Bruce. He was at her heels within seconds. “You sure are a cutie.”

  “Cindy!”

  She spun toward Jamie as he exited the barn. “Ya?”

  “Where are you going?” Jamie asked.

  “I’m taking my unexpected visitor home.” She pointed to Bruce, and Jamie chuckled. “I’ll be right back.”

  “All right.” Jamie gave a little wave. “Tell Drew hello for me.”

  “I will.” She waved and then led Bruce down the driveway to the street before turning toward the Lapp farm.

  They walked up the Lapps’ driveway together, past the big farmhouse to the barn. Cindy peeked inside and then in the pasture for Drew. After scanning the property once again and finding no one, she made her way to the little house where Drew lived. She climbed the steps and then knocked on the front door.

  After a few moments, the screen door swung open and Drew stood before her clad in worn blue jeans and a faded gray T-shirt. As he had the last time she saw him, he sported a sprouting light-brown beard, and his hair looked as if he had just raked his fingers through it. Although her father might have called Drew’s appearance disheveled, Cindy found it to be almost endearing.

  She pushed that thought away.

  “Cindy.” He opened the door wide. “How are you?”

  “I’m well. Thank you.” She pointed to the smiling dog. “Bruce just came to visit me. I thought I should bring him home in case you were frantically searching for him.”

  “Oh.” He seemed confused as he looked down at the dog. “Were you trying to run away?”

  Bruce gave a little bark and then moved past Drew into the house.

  “I’m sorry.” Drew rubbed the stubble on his strong jaw. “I was so focused on studying for an exam that I didn’t even notice my dog was missing.” He gave her a sheepish expression. “That sounds terrible. I’m really not a neglectful dog owner, so don’t report me to the authorities.”

  Cindy laughed. “I have a cow that goes missing, so I’m not in any position to judge.”

  When he leaned his head against the door and seemed to study her, she shifted her weight on her feet and cleared her throat. “Have you finished the cookies I gave you?”

  “I have. I suppose you want your container back.”

  “Only to refill it for you.” The words escaped her lips without any forethought, and she suddenly felt bold. But would Drew consider her assuming he’d like more cookies from her too forward?

  “That would be amazing. They help me study.” He stepped into the house and motioned for her to follow. “Come on in. My house is a mess, but I can offer you a drink.”

  Cindy lingered at the doorway. It was inappropriate for her to be alone with a man, but she didn’t want to be rude. He wasn’t a member of their community, but if Gertrude or Ervin caught her walking into his house without a chaperone, they could tell her father and—

  “Do you like Coke?”

  “What?” She glanced across the small family room to the kitchen area, where he held up a can of Coca-Cola.

  “I also have water, iced tea, and milk.” He seemed eager to share a drink with her.

  “Water would be perfect.”

  “Coming right up.” He leaned into the refrigerator and took out a bottle of water. Then he crossed to the doorway and handed it to her before making a sweeping gesture around the family room. “Come in. I’ll clear off the sofa.” He began moving a pile of books from the sofa to the coffee table, where he stacked them next to a laptop computer.

  He looked up at her, looking first puzzled, then concerned. “Was it inappropriate for me to invite you in?”

  “It’s probably best if I stay here.” She pointed to the threshold.

  “Oh.” He looked a bit embarrassed. “I’m sorry.”

  While remaining in the doorway, Cindy glanced around the room, taking in the television set, light switches, light fixtures, and lamps. In the kitchen she spotted a microwave, toaster, and toaster oven. “This house has electricity?”

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “I’m just surprised. I always thought this was a daadihaus.”

  “A what house?” His lips twitched.

  “The grandfather house or the end-of-life house.” She opened the bottle of water. “It’s where the grandparents live when the younger couple take over the farm. It’s normally an Amish house. I’m surprised Gertrude and Ervin have a home with electricity on their property.”

  “I hadn’t really thought about it, but Ervin told me he built this house for his son to try to convince him to stay on the farm. Apparently it didn’t work, because his son still moved to New Jersey. He never bothered to have the electricity removed just in case his son came back to visit.”

  “That makes sense. I remember when their son moved away. It was difficult for Gertrude and Ervin.” Cindy took a sip from the bottle.

  Bruce bounded into the room, his jowls wet and water dripping from his mouth.

  “I guess he got a drink.” Drew snickered as he scratched Bruce’s head.

  “Did you name him?”

  “No, my aunt named him after her favorite action movie star, Bruce Willis.”

  “Oh.” She had no idea who that was, but she didn’t want to say anything to disrespect his aunt. “It’s a great name.”

  “Yeah.” Drew grinned down at the dog.

  She pointed to his computer. “What are you studying?”

  “Math.” He rolled his eyes. “It’s not my best subject. Did you like math when you were in school?”

  “I didn’t dislike it.”

  “Were you good at math?”

  “I was okay.”

  “You’re also good at baking, cooking, sewing, and quilting, according to your family.”

  “It’s normal for Amish girls to learn how to do those things.” Cindy squeezed the bottle of water, and it crinkled in protest. She needed to steer the conversation away from herself. “What are you good at?”

  He sat down on the arm of a wing chair. “I guess I’m good at fixing things.”

  “You proved that the other day.” She pointed the bottle of water at him. “What else?”

  “Hmm. I like living on this farm, and I enjoy taking care of the animals.” He pointed to a table in one corner. “I also like to do puzzles. My aunt always did them, and I liked to help her. I guess that’s sort of my hobby.”

  “That’s a neat hobby.”

  “Who taught you how to sew and quilt?”

  She stilled at the question.

  “I’m sorry.” He leaned forward and held up his arms. “I didn’t mean to get too personal.”

  “That’s not too p
ersonal.” She looked down at her bottle. “My mom did.”

  “You mentioned Florence is your stepmother.”

  “That’s right.” She met his gaze and found warmth there. “My mom died seven years ago. It was an accident.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s been really tough without her,” Cindy said, her voice sounding small and unsure, as if she were a child. “My father was devastated and lost. He withdrew from all of us for a time while others kept the farm and house going. Then my siblings moved on, but I still feel like I’m floating aimlessly without her.” She took a long drink of water to wet her suddenly dry throat.

  “All of your siblings?” He tilted his head as he studied her.

  “Yes.” She gripped the water bottle, and it crinkled once again. “I have three older siblings—Jamie, Laura, and Mark. Laura and Mark are twins. They’re married and have children. They don’t live far from here, but I don’t see them as often as I’d like.”

  “What about Roy and Sarah Jane? Are they your stepsiblings?”

  “Yes, along with Florence’s son Walter. He lives with his family in Gordonville, and they come to visit frequently. But Roy is getting married in October, and I wouldn’t be surprised to see Sarah Jane get married soon. She’s had a couple of boyfriends, but nothing serious yet. She’s so outgoing, and the young men in her youth group seem to like her.” She paused. “Sometimes I feel like I don’t belong in this family. I haven’t even joined the church, and I—” She stopped speaking and held her breath. Why was she telling this stranger her deepest secrets? What was wrong with her?

  She had to leave before she confessed every burden in her soul.

  “I’m sorry.” She took a step back onto the porch. “I need to go. It was very nice talking to you. Thank you for the water. Have a good day.” She turned toward the porch steps.

  “Cindy!” Drew called after her. “Cindy. Wait!”

  She stopped at the top step and peeked over her shoulder at him.

  “You forgot your container.” He held it out to her. “After all, I need more fuel for studying.”

  She turned and took the container, nodding. “Oh, right.”

  “I’ll do my best to not eat them all in one sitting next time.”

  His smile was so adorable that she laughed. “You’d better not.”

  “I hope to see you soon.”

  She nodded again, turned, and left.

  As she headed home, curiosity and dread filled her in equal measure. She’d felt interest the other day, but now she found herself longing to know this man better. What would her father say if he knew she found it easier to talk to an Englisher than to any of the young Amish men in their community?

  * * *

  Drew leaned on the doorframe as he watched Cindy hurry down the driveway. He frowned as regret whipped through him. Why had he asked her so many questions about her life? If he hadn’t been so nosy, maybe she would have stayed and talked longer.

  Still, at the same time, she’d seemed to want to share with him. He could feel the sadness radiating off her as she talked about her mother and how much she missed her. He could relate to her pain. In fact, she felt like a kindred spirit, and he’d love to get to know her better.

  Drew wasn’t a dolt. He was aware that it was forbidden for an Amish person to have a relationship with someone who wasn’t Amish. But was friendship also forbidden? How he longed for a friend who could understand the depth of his grief for his parents and aunt. Cindy seemed like she could be that friend.

  Bruce appeared at his heels and gazed up at him.

  “Thanks for bringing Cindy over to see me.” Drew rubbed the dog’s head. “Maybe you can do that again sometime soon.”

  Then he recalled that Gertrude and Ervin were hosting church in their barn on Sunday. He’d be helping them with the setup. Maybe he’d have a chance to see Cindy then.

  three

  Cindy smoothed her hands down her white apron and pink dress as she walked down the street between Roy and Sarah Jane. They were on their way to Gertrude and Ervin’s farm, and Jamie and his family walked in front of them while Dat and Florence followed behind.

  When they rounded the corner and started up the Lapps’ rock driveway, she looked toward the pasture. A line of buggies stretched along the fence for what seemed like a mile. Horses filled Ervin’s pasture, and men dressed in their Sunday black and white stood talking by the barn.

  Cindy’s gaze moved to the small house across from the barn, and her insides fluttered. She’d stopped by with another batch of cookies for Drew yesterday and was disappointed to find his burgundy pickup truck missing and his home empty. She’d left the cookies on the bench by his front door before hurrying back home.

  The bench was now empty, indicating that Drew had found the cookies. She’d hoped to see him today, but, like yesterday, the pickup truck was gone. Would she be able to see him before she went home?

  She tried to dismiss her thoughts of Drew as she climbed Gertrude’s porch steps to join the women in the congregation. Drew was an outsider, and any desire to spend time with him was inappropriate. But he was beginning to feel like her friend. How could she ignore a friend?

  Cindy followed Florence and Sarah Jane into Gertrude’s kitchen. When she spotted Gertrude speaking to the bishop’s wife, Cindy approached them.

  “Gude mariye.” Cindy shook their hands.

  “How are you?” Naomi, the bishop’s wife, asked.

  “I’m well. Danki.” Cindy looked at Gertrude. “How are you this morning?”

  “I’m gut,” Gertrude said.

  When Naomi turned to speak to someone else, Cindy leaned in closer to Gertrude. “Did Drew go to church this morning?”

  “Ya, he did. He attends a community church in Bird-in-Hand.”

  “Oh, that’s nice.” Cindy’s heart warmed with the knowledge that Drew was a Christian. But why did that matter? They attended different churches and were from different worlds.

  “He’s such a nice young man.” Gertrude smiled brightly. “He’s been a tremendous help to Ervin and me. He cleaned out my flower beds and planted more flowers for the service today. He also repaired our barn doors, and he’s working on replacing the rotten boards in the fence. I’ve been telling Ervin to hire someone since Darren left last year. I’m so thankful he finally did, and I’m grateful God sent Drew our way.”

  “That’s wunderbaar,” Cindy said, agreeing with her.

  “He told me about how your cow came over and made friends with his dog. You have the funniest cows! I remember how Sassy used to get out and come visit us sometimes.” Gertrude chuckled.

  “Ya, mei dat’s cows have always had unique personalities.” Cindy smiled.

  “Drew also said Florence invited him to stay for supper. He went on and on about how gut your dat’s root beer is and how wunderbaar your kichlin are. He really enjoyed spending time with your family.”

  Cindy’s smile faded. Had Drew told Gertrude she’d visited him last week and that she’d left him cookies yesterday? If so, would Gertrude tell her father or the bishop? How could she explain her behavior or her friendship with a non-Amish man?

  “Aenti Cindy!”

  Cindy turned as her seven-year-old niece, Mollie, ran toward her with her arms open for a hug. Mollie was her sister Laura’s older daughter.

  She looked over at Gertrude. “Excuse me.”

  “Of course! It was nice talking to you,” Gertrude said before turning to speak to another woman.

  “Mollie! How are you?” Cindy leaned down and hugged the little girl. Cindy often thought about what a blessing it was when Laura adopted Mollie Faith after marrying her widowed father. Allen’s first wife, Savilla, had been one of Laura’s best friends. The whole family cherished this small version of her after she suffered a sudden and fatal illness not long after Cindy’s mother died.

  “I’m gut.” Mollie pointed behind her. “Mamm and Catherine are coming.” Her mother headed toward them, holdin
g Mollie’s eighteen-month-old sister’s hand as she toddled along.

  Cindy waved at them. “Gude mariye!”

  Catherine squealed and held her arms up to Cindy.

  “She’s excited to see you.” Laura laughed as Cindy lifted the toddler into her arms. Laura’s hand immediately moved to her abdomen. She’d be a mother of three shortly before Christmas, but she didn’t show any signs of pregnancy quite yet.

  “It’s so gut to see you, Catherine.” Cindy kissed her niece’s cheek as Catherine rested her head on Cindy’s shoulder.

  “Did she sleep well last night?” Cindy asked Laura as she rubbed Catherine’s back.

  Laura nodded. “She did. She didn’t even want to get up this morning.”

  “How are you feeling?” Cindy nodded toward Laura’s middle.

  “Gut.” Laura sighed. “I have about six months to go. Allen keeps saying the time will go quickly, but I don’t know. The months were long with Catherine.”

  “I’m just glad you’re feeling well,” Cindy said. “I can’t wait to be an aenti again.” For a brief moment, Cindy wondered if she’d ever have a family of her own, but she dismissed the thought. She needed to be happy for Laura and not think of herself.

  “Aenti Priscilla!” Mollie took off toward the door, where Mark’s wife pushed a double stroller through the doorway with her son Ethan’s help.

  After Priscilla had the stroller situated, Ethan disappeared through the mudroom. Cindy was certain he was hurrying to catch up with Mark and the rest of the men out by the barn. At eight, he was more interested in spending time with them than with the women.

  Mollie rushed to Priscilla and gave her a hug before looking into the stroller and talking to her one-year-old twin cousins.

  “Mollie is the little mother.” Laura smiled as she gazed at her. “She’s such a gut helper.”

  “Ya, she is.” Cindy shifted Catherine’s weight. “You’ll be even more grateful for that when your new boppli comes.”

  “That’s true,” Laura admitted with a smile.

  “Good morning.” Priscilla pushed the stroller over to Cindy and Laura. “I thought we were going to be late. These two were fussy this morning.” She sighed. “I hope they’re not getting summer colds.”

 

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