Huckleberry Hearts

by Jennifer Beckstrand

  Her distress reached frequencies that only dogs would have been able to hear. It seemed there was no reasoning with her, which Zach hadn’t really expected from a young child, but he felt at a complete loss for what to do next.

  “Can I help?”

  Zach turned to see a cute blonde coming toward him.

  No, not cute. Stacey was cute. Smurfs were cute. This woman was a beauty. She seemed to glide across the parking lot, every movement a graceful dance. The very air around her seemed to shimmer.

  Zach rubbed a hand across his eyes. He must be working too hard. The lack of sleep had made him a little stupid.

  He looked again. Okay, no shimmering air. Just a woman. A woman who carried herself like a queen.

  No, that wasn’t exactly right either. Queens tended to be divas. Zach had dated enough of them to know that this woman was no diva.

  More like an angel.

  She seemed familiar to him, but he couldn’t place where he’d seen her before. Probably in his dreams.

  Her wavy yellow hair fell just below her chin and framed her face like a halo. Her eyes were the color of the ocean at sunrise. And those lips. Zach’s mouth twitched just imagining what it would be like to kiss her.

  Yep. An angel.

  He sincerely hoped angels gave out their phone numbers.

  She wore a puffy white coat with blue jeans tucked into her chocolate brown leather boots. Thin and on the tall side, she wore a Christmas-red knitted scarf around her neck—an almost perfect match to the one Anna Helmuth had given him.

  He would have stood up and flashed his best smile at her—in cases like these he should pull out all his best weapons—but he didn’t want to turn his back on the little girl and risk her running away. It was that aversion to getting mowed down by a bus again.

  He stayed on one knee and turned his face slightly in the angel’s direction. “I think she’s lost, but she won’t tell me her name, and I can’t get her to come inside. I don’t want to frighten her, but it’s pretty cold out here.”

  The angel squatted next to the little girl and laid her hands on the girl’s shoulders. “Vas iss vi nawma?” Zach had no idea what she said, but the little girl quieted down immediately.

  “Rose Sue,” she said.

  “Bish du ferlora?” said the angel.

  “Ich con net my mamm finna,” the girl said.

  No wonder he hadn’t been able to get anywhere. How was he supposed to know the child spoke Amish? The angel spoke Amish too. An angel with an attractive foreign accent.

  Angel pulled a Kleenex from her coat pocket, held it to the girl’s nose, and instructed her to blow. She said it in Amish language, but the meaning was clear enough.

  Angel fingered Zach’s scarf still draped around the little girl’s shoulders. The girl said something else in Amish and pointed to Zach. His heart pounded in his chest as the angel finally turned her crystal blue eyes to him. He fully expected a dazzling smile of gratitude for giving the little girl his scarf. It had been a pretty nice thing to do.

  Instead, the angel did a double take, as if noticing him for the first time. Her eyes narrowed, the air around her stopped shimmering, and a shadow darkened her expression.

  He ignored her suddenly cold demeanor. Her reaction certainly couldn’t be because of him. He’d never met a woman who wasn’t immediately charmed by his good looks and slightly crooked nose. “I wanted to keep her warm,” he said, just in case she needed some encouragement to like him.

  “Oh,” she said, which considering the color that crept up her face was probably the most coherent thing she could think of.

  What had he done? He’d only said about four words to her. He certainly couldn’t have offended her that quickly, could he? Maybe she didn’t like his nose.

  The angel lowered her eyes and pulled the scarf tighter around the little girl’s shoulders. Standing up, she said something else to the girl in Amish and took her hand.

  He had to drive that shadow from the angel’s face. “I hope I didn’t frighten her. I just wanted to help.”

  Angel seemed to recover slightly from whatever shock she took from seeing him and sprouted a weak smile. “It was good of you to stop. She might have wandered into the road.”

  “Can I help you find her mother?”

  Her smile grew in strength, as if she’d decided to overlook whatever deformity he had. “You are very kind, but I don’t think it will be too much trouble locating them. They’re probably just inside at the clinic. A lot of Amish come to the clinic.”

  Her temperature seemed to be hovering just above freezing. Could he coax her to thaw even more? He stuck out his hand for a handshake when he really wanted to kiss her. Even though she was a complete stranger. Even though she might not like crooked noses. “I’m Zach.”

  She avoided his eyes. “And I should get Rose inside. Her mother is probably worried sick.”

  “So,” he said, playfully cocking an eyebrow, “you don’t want to tell me your name.”

  “You’re a complete stranger.”

  “Not a complete stranger. You know my name.”

  “That’s not a good enough reason to tell you my name.”

  “I know a lot about you. You own a white coat and brown boots. You do not paint your nails, and we have scarves that are eerily similar to each other. And”—he held up his hand to stop her from protesting—“you speak Amish.”

  She bowed her head as a smile crept onto her lips. “You haven’t been in town very long, have you?”

  “I got here in July. I’m doing rotations at the hospital.”

  The fact that he did rotations at the hospital didn’t seem to impress her in the least. “The language is called Pennsylvania Dutch, or Deitsch, if you actually speak it. It’s a distant cousin of German. Most of the Amish can trace their roots back to Germany. They fled to America to avoid religious persecution.”

  One side of Zach’s mouth curled upward. “So if I call the language ‘Amish,’ I’ll broadcast my complete ignorance and lose all credibility.”

  “Pretty much.” She spoke with a barely discernible accent. Zach found it irresistible.

  Who was this girl and would she give her phone number to a guy with a crooked nose?

  Without another word, she gathered the little Amish girl into her arms and trudged toward the front of the building. He couldn’t let her get away that easily.

  “Do you live in Shawano?” he asked, having no problem keeping up with her as she made a beeline for the main doors.

  She didn’t even break her stride. “No. I’m visiting family.”

  Zach’s throat dried up as he considered a horrible possibility. She spoke Amish . . . er . . . Deitsch. Maybe she was Amish. He’d heard that Amish teenagers got to go out into the real world before they joined the Amish church. They wore normal clothes and did normal things. Maybe his angel was one of those. She was definitely past her teens, but maybe she’d been sowing her wild oats for longer than usual.

  “Family? Are you from here?”

  “Yes. Originally.”

  He almost dreaded the answer he’d get to his next question. “Are you Amish? I know you don’t dress Amish, but are you going through that Rumpelstiltskin thing the Amish teenagers do?”

  She stopped in her tracks, stared at him with those amazing blue eyes, and seemed to smile in spite of herself. He’d made her smile. Best day ever. “Do you mean Rumschpringe?”

  “That’s it,” he said, returning her smile with a devil-may-care grin.

  “I suggest you brush up on Amish culture, Dr. Reynolds, or you’re going to alienate half the population of Bonduel and Shawano.”

  Dr. Reynolds? Had he told her his last name?

  An Amish woman rushed out of the main doors of the hospital. “Rose Sue,” she squealed when she caught sight of the girl in Angel’s arms.

  The little girl threw out her hands. “Mama!”

  The girl’s mother took her from Angel and held her as if she would never let go
. She rocked back and forth, whispering unintelligible words of comfort into the little girl’s ear as the girl sniffled into the crook of her neck.

  With relief evident on her face, the Amish woman looked from Zach to the nameless angel and back again. “Thank you. I turned my back, and she disappeared.”

  “The doctor found her wandering by the road.”

  A spark of recognition ignited in the Amish woman’s eyes as she looked at Zach’s angel. “Cassie?”

  The angel nodded while Zach secretly rejoiced. A name. He had a name.

  “I hardly recognized you with your hair like that,” said the Amish woman. “How long has it been?”

  “At least six years since we’ve seen each other.”

  The woman clicked her tongue. “Ach, du lieva, Cassie. You shouldn’t stay away so long. It breaks your mamm’s heart.”

  Cassie the angel turned as white as a lab coat. Zach felt sorry for her, but didn’t quite know how to fill the silence that overtook them.

  After a few awkward moments, the Amish woman seemed to remember her reason for being there. “I should take Rose Sue inside. We have an appointment.” She looked relieved that she had an excuse to be somewhere else. “It was gute to see you again, Cassie. Tell your mamm I will have the quilt squares finished by Monday. And denki again for finding Rose Sue.”

  As if she couldn’t escape fast enough, she hurried into the warm building with her daughter in her arms.

  With her face to the hospital, Cassie stood as if her feet had been frozen in place.

  “Your mom’s Amish?” Zach asked. Maybe she’d feel better if she talked about it. Maybe he had no idea how she’d feel. Maybe he wanted to do something, anything to make her smile.

  She glanced at him and made a valiant attempt at nonchalance. “My whole family’s Amish.”

  A lump stuck in his throat as the fear bubbled up inside him. It would be just his luck if she were doing the whole Rumpelstiltskin thing. For a girl like her, he might be tempted to convert. “Are you Amish?”

  She looked at him as if she were reluctantly surrendering every little bit of information she gave him. “No. Not anymore.”

  Zach almost passed out with relief. “Now that wasn’t so hard, was it, Cassie?”

  She flashed a genuine smile, even though he could tell she didn’t want to. “It’s pure luck that Mary Fisher happened to come by and let my name slip.”

  “But now you can’t consider us strangers.”

  “Yes. I can.”

  “I’m trying to bring my A game here, Cassie,” he said.

  “What do you mean?”

  He felt heartened by the befuddled look on her face. She didn’t completely have the upper hand. “I can usually get a phone number out of a girl with just a smile. Do I have something stuck in my teeth?”

  She probably blushed all the way down to her toes. “No. I’ve always thought you had very nice teeth.”

  “See? A stranger would never ask you to examine his teeth.”

  “He would if I were a dentist.” She started walking again, faster and with purpose, as if she were trying to break some speed record to the main doors. But he hadn’t been a three-year starter on the UChicago soccer team for nothing. With his long legs, he could easily match her stride for stride without even breaking a sweat.

  “I’m going to be treating a lot of Amish people in the next few months. I could use a tutor who knows about the culture.”

  “There’s lots of good information on the Internet.”

  “Come on, Cassie. What do you say?”

  “About what?” she asked, obviously fully aware of what he wanted.

  She was the first girl he’d met since high school who hadn’t fallen at his feet and fawned all over him like he was some Greek god. He’d gotten used to his status as a Greek god. She seemed to be oblivious to the fact that he was irresistible. He didn’t quite know what to do with that. Girls didn’t often play hard-to-get with him.

  He found her resistance both frustrating and exhilarating. He’d never chased a woman this vigorously before. Literally. He enjoyed the chase, especially when he knew she’d eventually relent. He pulled a few steps ahead of her and turned around. “Come to dinner with me?”

  She stopped and eyed him as if trying to work out a calculus problem in her head without scratch paper. “You want to take me to dinner?”

  “I’m a fun date.”

  She folded her arms and seemed to grow more and more agitated the longer they stood there. “I’m sure you are.”

  “I’ll take you to the fanciest restaurant in Shawano.” Which might have been the McDonald’s for all he knew. “All I need is your phone number. Just a phone number.”

  She looked down at the sidewalk, over her left shoulder, and finally up to the sky before she spoke. He knew she’d refuse before the words were even out of her mouth. “I don’t think I’d better. But thank you anyway.”

  Ouch.

  Rejection stung like a ninja wasp.

  He’d never been stung before.

  She studied his face. A glint of surprise flashed in her eyes before her expression softened. She kind of looked like she felt sorry for him, as if she felt terrible about dashing his hopes on the rocks of despair.

  He didn’t like being felt sorry for, even if his disappointment was so thick he could have captured it in a cup and swallowed it. He shoved his hands into his coat pockets and tried to think of a way to make a graceful exit.

  “I’m . . . sorry,” she stuttered. “I’m sure you don’t really care about me in particular. There must be plenty of other girls willing to . . .” She turned bright red as her voice trailed off into nothingness.

  Oh.

  She thought he wanted to make a conquest.

  He had no idea what he expected, but when it came to the angel, a conquest wasn’t what he wanted at all.

  Lowering his eyes, he made his escape into the safety of the hospital. He’d be forced to perform surgery with wounded pride and a soggy pant leg. At least he hadn’t been out in the frigid air long enough to get frostbite.

  He looked down and groaned. That little Amish girl had made off with his scarf.

  And the angel had made off with his ego.

  Chapter Four

  Outside through the glass, Cassie watched Dr. Zach Reynolds get onto the elevator. When the doors closed behind him, she counted to twenty before venturing into the lobby. She would have been mortified if they’d been forced to wait for an elevator together.

  How in the world had she had the misfortune of running into Zach Reynolds in tiny Shawano, Wisconsin? Weren’t there five million other places in the world he could have been assigned to do his residency?

  She hadn’t expected him to remember her. It had been four years, and he’d only actually spoken to her twice when they were both going to the university in Chicago. The first time they had met had been at a loud party with lots of flashing lights and zero visibility. She’d been passing through the crowd on her way to the exit when he had stopped and asked her name. She’d given it to him, but only because he’d caught her off guard. The second time she’d had the misfortune of coming in contact with him, she and Tonya had been standing at the threshold of his apartment, soaking wet from a torrential downpour outside. She had looked more like a drowned rat than herself. Of course he didn’t remember her.

  But she remembered him. Vividly. A good-looking, athletic senior like Zach Reynolds tended to turn the heads of every wide-eyed freshman girl on campus. But that wasn’t why she remembered him.

  He had been one of those arrogant, devil-may-care premed students, like all the other arrogant premed students who treated girls as if they were as disposable as Kleenex.

  She’d rather not spend another minute rehashing her bad memories of college fraternities and heartbroken roommates. She could certainly steer clear of Zach Reynolds for a few weeks. It wasn’t as if they’d be running in the same circles.

  Guys like Zach Reynolds could
be incredibly charming. It was a testament to his powers with women that he’d been able to make her smile, even when she hated the very sight of him. It wasn’t in her disposition to be mean or sarcastic—but sometimes she wished it was. Her old roommate Tonya would have scolded her for not having the courage to put Zach Reynolds in his place with a clever insult.

  But was it so bad to try to be nice to everybody? She had worn a kapp and a Plain dress for her mamm in the name of harmony. Trying to get along was not a character flaw.

  Cassie took a deep breath and tried to think charitable thoughts about the doctor. He’d been wearing a very nice, homemade beanie and an expertly knitted scarf. He probably had a sweet grandmother somewhere who loved him dearly and knitted him ties for Christmas. If some cute little old lady could find it in her heart to love Zach, then he couldn’t be all bad.

  He had seemed very concerned about Rose Sue Fisher, but maybe it had all been an act. Cassie took the scarf from around her neck and stuffed it into her purse. As a doctor, he was paid to care.

  She decided not to risk the elevator. Mammi and Dawdi were only one flight up. She had dropped Mammi and Dawdi at the front before parking the car and encountering the arrogant and handsome Dr. Reynolds. She wouldn’t be caught off guard again.

  When Cassie got to the second floor, the nurse at the desk directed her to the room where they were prepping Mammi for her surgery. Mammi sat in a leather recliner wearing her prayer covering and a hospital gown and knitting, and Dawdi sat next to her reading Sports Illustrated.

  “Look at this tattoo, Annie,” he said, turning the magazine so Mammi could see it.

  “Oh,” Mammi said. “He’s got a spider crawling up his chest. Very nice.”

  “Is everything okay?” Cassie asked.

  Mammi laid her knitting in her lap. “Fine, dear. When they brought us back here, I worried you wouldn’t find us.”

  Cassie took off her coat and hung it on a hook near the door. “Parking the car took longer than expected.”

  “I’m glad you made it. You look so lovely today, and I was afraid you’d miss the doctor. He’s coming in to say hello before he cuts the cancer out of my foot.”