by Sarah Price
Henry leaned over and in a soft voice said, “Never you mind him, Catherine. He might come across as rather stern, but he is just reserved.”
She thought she heard Ellie make a scoffing noise.
“And he must be rather impressed by you,” Henry continued, “to have invited you to the house for dinner. He never invites anyone to join us, except the church leaders.”
“Is that so?” She couldn’t help but gasp as she asked this, the color draining from her cheeks. She had never met anyone who intimidated her more than Gid Tilman. His presumption of power over strangers as well as his own children made Catherine wonder just how much truth John Troyer might have spoken the other day. She certainly didn’t like feeling so overpowered. And Henry’s comment about his father having been impressed by her did not sit well with Catherine. “I’m no one to impress anyone,” she mumbled, embarrassed by Henry’s compliment. “Perhaps I should decline. I would hate to leave false notions in anyone’s head. I’m not more plain than anyone else!”
Henry laughed and even Ellie smiled at her innocent remark.
“Never you mind, Catherine,” Henry said with a soft voice. “I doubt anyone could have false notions about you. You are as pure of heart as any person I’ve ever met.”
They stood in the sun, talking some more until it was time to say the after-prayer. And then Catherine excused herself to help clear the table of plates from the second seating, which was always the younger men and women who hadn’t eaten during the first meal. She managed to steer clear of John Troyer, too aware that he watched her while she worked. She gave him no opportunity to approach her, keeping herself busy with helping the other women and then promptly escaping to keep company with Wilma and her new friends, who lingered at a table by the open door, a bowl of shared popcorn before them.
Catherine also managed to avoid Ida Mae during the fellowship hour, for her friend appeared more than content to spend her time in the company of James. It wasn’t until later that Wilma mentioned that neither Catherine’s brother nor her friend had sat down to eat at all, preferring to talk together on the wooden swing that was set in the back by the shade.
James and Ida Mae. It was an unlikely pairing, the distance between Fullerton and Banthe being so great, but a pairing that appeared far too real. Catherine thought about that while she walked home with Duane and Wilma. Was it possible that her brother might actually consider courting Ida Mae?
Chapter 10
“What do you mean you won’t go riding with us anymore, Catherine?”
Ida Mae sat on the sofa next to Catherine, her eyes pleading with her friend. She had dropped by late Sunday afternoon to ask Catherine to go out riding that evening with John, James, and her. But Catherine held firm to her decision. She had made up her mind that she would no longer put herself in a position that could compromise her budding relationship with the Tilmans. “I just prefer not to go, that’s all,” she said in a soft voice. She chose her words carefully because she didn’t want to offend Ida Mae, but she also did not want to speak an untruth.
Unhappy with Catherine’s explanation, Ida Mae scowled. “That makes no sense! You went the other day!”
Catherine kept her eyes focused on the letter she had begun writing to her mother. How could she tell Ida Mae that both Duane and Wilma had spoken to her, encouraging her to not be seen riding in the two-seater open carriage again if she meant to protect her reputation? Besides, she was still angry with John for having lied. While she appreciated his kindness to her, she did not want him to interfere again with her budding relationship with either Henry or Ellie. A man that lies once has already proven his true character. Even without Duane and Wilma’s request, Catherine knew that she wanted to limit her exposure to John Troyer, even if his sister was one of her friends.
“I just don’t think it is a good idea,” Catherine finally said in an even tone, still avoiding looking at her friend. “That one day, the day when I went, I didn’t realize that we were taking two buggies. Besides the fact that we weren’t even together anyway, you know that open buggies are for courting, Ida Mae. And I’m not courting your bruder, John.”
With an overly exaggerated sigh, Ida Mae leaned against the back of the sofa. “Is that all? Oh, Catherine! Banthe is a vacation town. It’s not like Fullerton! All of the young people ride in open carriages. It’s the summer season, after all! Who wants to be stuck in a stuffy old closed-up buggy? Besides, sitting beside a young man is not a commitment to marry him!”
Setting down her pen, Catherine gave Ida Mae a stern look. “Perhaps, but when I return to Fullerton, I’d prefer that my name and reputation be as intact as when I left. After all, you’re the one who warned me of how your friend damaged her reputation by being seen riding in buggies with two different young men.”
Once again, her answer did not please Ida Mae, who jumped to her feet and began pacing the floor. She wore an angry expression and scowled. “I thought we were friends, Catherine. But you seem to be thinking more of yourself than about anyone else!”
“That’s not fair …”
But Ida Mae wasn’t listening. “Friends, Catherine. The best of friends. I had hoped we’d be more than that one day, too.”
Catherine looked up at Ida Mae in surprise. Was she talking about her relationship with James? Certainly, she couldn’t be jumping so far ahead, especially when they had only just met! “And how is that, Ida Mae?” she dared to ask.
“Oh, please!” She waved her hand dismissively at Catherine and flopped back down on the sofa. “Sometimes I think you’re only just acting innocent!”
“Excuse me?” Catherine sounded as taken aback as she felt.
Leaning forward, the scowl suddenly disappearing from her face, Ida Mae gave her a sideways glance that was full of mischief. “You know that John fancies you.”
“What. Ever!” Catherine forced the two words out of her mouth as she tried to catch her breath.
“And I’ve seen how you are around him, too. Everyone is talking about it!” Ida Mae said, a smug look on her face.
Catherine gasped. What a disastrous thought! How could Ida Mae make such a claim? If anything, Catherine had worked extra hard to avoid John over the past few days. If people were talking, certainly Duane and Wilma must have heard. Was that why they had talked to her? Would they return to Fullerton and tell her parents that she had behaved inappropriately?
“There must’ve been some sort of misunderstanding then,” Catherine began to explain. “If that is how my behavior has been regarded …”
“Indeed, it has!”
Ignoring the eagerness with which Ida Mae so readily agreed, a new emotion overcame Catherine: regret. She tried to reflect on the past week since she had met John Troyer. She had walked with him once and gone on that horrible drive with him. But after that, she had spent little to no time in his company. Even after church, she had managed to stay away from him. So how on earth could her attentions to what she regarded as a simple friendship have been misconstrued as something more?
“Then that is all the more reason for me to refuse another ride with your bruder.” Catherine returned her attention to her letter, hoping that her trembling fingers did not give away her true feelings of distress.
Ida Mae stood up and crossed her arms over her chest. If she had been unhappy before, she was even more upset now that her own words had been used against her. Angrily, she marched toward the back window and stared outside in the direction of the lake. “I don’t understand you, Catherine! You claim to be my friend, yet you refuse to spend time with me. I think you’re being rather selfish.”
Selfish? Catherine fought the urge to let Ida Mae know who was truly being selfish. In her life, she had never had words with anyone, and she certainly didn’t want to have them now with her friend. “I don’t refuse to spend time with you, Ida Mae,” she said, carefully selecting her words. “We’re spending time together right now, ja? But you are choosing to use that time to argue rather than to have a
pleasant visit together.”
“It’s really you arguing with me.”
Determined, Catherine shook her head. “I have no intention of arguing with you. Or anyone else for that matter.”
Turning on her heel, Ida Mae rushed back to where Catherine sat and knelt before her. Her eyes widened with eagerness. “So you will go for a ride this evening then?”
Dropping her hands onto her lap, Catherine pressed her lips together and stared at Ida Mae. She didn’t like the way that she was being bullied by her. No meant no. “Nee, I will not.” The forcefulness of her voice startled even her. “And I’d thank you to stop trying to manipulate me into doing what you want, when it goes against my principles!”
Angry, Ida Mae stomped her foot like a petulant child. “That means I won’t be able to go either! Oh, you are very selfish, Catherine Miller. And here I thought we were friends!” Without another word, she turned and hurried out the door.
As Ida Mae stormed out of the house, Catherine sat there, her hands still on her lap and her mouth agape in surprise. She had never been spoken to in such a manner, and to be truthful, she didn’t know how to respond. Of course, it was too late anyway, as Ida Mae was gone. So Catherine just sat there, stunned into silence.
“Is your friend gone so soon?” Wilma asked as she walked out of the bedroom where she had been napping and entered the living room. “That was a short visit.”
Catherine tried to find the words to explain what had just happened. But she wanted to avoid any more discussions about open carriages and soiled reputations. She settled for the simplest explanation. “I … I suppose she left rather angry.”
Wilma frowned, glancing at the door as if Ida Mae still stood there. “Angry? About what?”
She sighed and leaned back in the chair. “Not about what but about who, and that who is me.”
“You? Whatever for? Why, you have the most pleasant and even disposition of anyone I know!” Concerned, Wilma sat down beside her on the sofa. “Certainly, it was just a misunderstanding, Catherine. Nothing to fret over, ja?”
But Catherine wasn’t so certain. While she did not know Ida Mae very well, their friendship only in its second week, she had come to think of her as a friend. But friends did not treat each other in such a way. And, the irony of the situation was that, by calling Catherine selfish for not wanting to go riding, Ida Mae was guilty of the very same thing for wanting to force her to do so. Still, it did not sit well with Catherine, and she found herself wondering if she had, indeed, wronged her friend.
“Does this have anything to do with our talk the other day?” Wilma asked in a gentle manner.
Swallowing, Catherine nodded her head. “She wants me to go riding, but I don’t want to. She says she can’t go if I don’t.”
Wilma clucked her tongue. “You know that she can do whatever she’d like to do.”
“She said that people are talking about me.”
Wilma appeared startled at that last comment. “Talking? About you?” She shook her head. “Seems like that young woman needs to reflect upon what she says to people, wouldn’t you say? Perhaps she tends to apply to others what she fears, applies to her!”
But Catherine was still upset. “She says that people think I’m courting John. And nothing could be further from the truth, Wilma. I’ve given him no indication that we are anything more than friends. And even that is only because of Ida Mae.”
Wilma gave a small laugh and clucked her tongue three times. “Oh, Catherine, if anyone in Banthe is talking about you, it is only kind things. There is nothing else that can be said about such a young woman who is so pure at heart.”
“I don’t feel pure at heart at the present moment,” Catherine grumbled.
“Well, I can personally tell you that there is not one person in Banthe that is speculating about you fancying John Troyer. Certainly Susie and Vern have no such illusions, and they’re his parents.”
“Well, there is one person, and that person is Ida Mae!” Catherine said grumpily as she slouched down in her chair.
“Remember Matthew 15:18. ‘But those things which proceed out of the mouth come from the heart, and they defile the man.’ It seems to me that she has said more about herself than about you.” She bustled into the kitchen, where she began to pull things out for supper.
Catherine couldn’t help but wonder about what Wilma had said. Certainly, it was true that gossiping mouths often said more about the speaker than the person being gossiped about. Still, Catherine didn’t like the idea that Ida Mae believed what she had said. Did she really think Catherine had flirted with John? Could she have missed Catherine’s not-so-subtle clues that she was interested in getting to know Henry better, not John?
She was still sitting there when Wilma returned, carrying a glass of lemonade.
“Are you still fretting about this?” She handed the glass to Catherine. “I know what would cheer you up, Catherine. Why don’t you go outside and gather some wildflowers for the dinner table? They would brighten up this kitchen.”
Catherine forced a smile and did as she was told. It would do her some good to get out of the house, and perhaps gathering flowers would put her in a better mood. After her tiff with Ida Mae, she realized just how much she enjoyed Wilma’s company and all of her stories about when she was growing up and how she met Duane. There was something light-hearted and sweet about Wilma’s provincial view of life. She was always upbeat and cheerful, finding something interesting about even the simplest of life’s pleasures. After the unsettling exchange with Ida Mae, Catherine suddenly found herself grateful for Wilma’s simple and sincere friendship.
Chapter 11
“You are a bundle of nerves this morning,” Wilma teased as she finished drying the breakfast dishes. “One would think you’d never walked around a lake before!”
Catherine chewed on her bottom lip, staring anxiously out the window.
Duane emerged from the bedroom, shutting the door behind him. “Perhaps you should walk to town with us, Catherine? You know we’re heading up there to meet with Vern and Susie.”
“Oh, nee! Danke!” Wild horses wouldn’t have driven her away from that window. She suspected that John and James would come around later, hoping to take her for another ride with Ida Mae. But Catherine figured she would be long gone by that time. With an empty house, they would have no one to coax and finagle into taking a buggy ride. Catherine didn’t even care that her leaving meant an inconvenience for James and Ida Mae. If they were truly courting, it wasn’t as if people didn’t already suspect it, especially after they missed the fellowship meal the previous day, something that did not go unnoticed.
“Duane! You know she has plans already!” Wilma playfully scolded him.
He laughed good-naturedly as he went to the sink. He reached for a glass and poured himself some cool water from the faucet. “Ja, ja, I know that.”
Catherine smiled but returned her attention to looking outside. It was, after all, almost ten o’clock.
When she saw the two figures emerge at the crest of the road, Catherine broke into a happy grin. “They’re here!” She ran over to the mirror and glanced at it, pausing to pinch her cheeks and push her hair further back under her head covering.
Wilma smiled. “Enjoy yourself at the Tilmans,” she said. “Your company will be missed at the Troyers, but I’m certain they will understand.”
Catherine barely acknowledged Wilma’s words as she hurried out the door, letting her feet race down the wooden steps in her eagerness to join her new friends.
The midmorning air was cool under the trees, and sunlight filtered through tiny gaps in the lush green leaves ahead. The sound of birds chirping was only broken by the occasional sound of a plane flying overhead.
Henry guided both women to a dirt path that led them to the walking trail. Rather than turn toward town, they walked the other direction. For the beginning of the walk, Ellie held Catherine’s arm, asking her questions about Fullerton and her family. W
hen Catherine had nothing more to tell, Ellie inquired about her relationship with the Andersons.
“Oh, they are fine people, the Andersons,” Catherine gushed. “The finest there are. Poor Wilma never had any children, so she likes to say she’s adopted me as her dochder. I try to help her as much as I can when it’s time to plant the gardens and can vegetables.”
“No children? Such a shame,” Ellie lamented.
“And … and you? I met your daed, but …” She hesitated for just a moment.
“Our maem?” Ellie sighed and strolled a few paces before she continued speaking. “Ja, vell, she has moved on, Catherine. Called home to be with Jesus when I was just eleven years old.”
“Oh, I am so sorry!” Catherine couldn’t imagine such a loss. Her heart hurt for her friend. “You must miss her very much.”
Ellie managed to give a soft smile, but it was full of remorse, not happiness. “Ja, I do. It hasn’t been easy to grow up without a muder and, as you can see, Daed never remarried.”
Catherine was just about to inquire further about that, for surely it was most unusual for a widower with three young children to not remarry, when, ahead of them, Henry stopped walking and turned around. “What could you two possibly be talking about with such serious countenance?”
“Family, dear bruder.”
“Family?” Henry appeared mystified. “Why, I should think that you would have moved onto more important—and entertaining! —topics.”
At this, Ellie laughed and tossed a small stick in his direction. “More important topics? Tell me, dear bruder, what do you consider to be a more important topic than family?”
He gave a casual shrug of his shoulders, but there was a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “Perhaps issues pertaining to gardening or sewing. The latest colors that have been put on display at the fabric store. The new rose color fabric is rather scandalous, wouldn’t you agree? It’s patterned!” He added with an exaggerated air of disapproval on his face.
