Cassie sat up gingerly and let Mamm help her put on the back brace that fit tightly around her like a corset. Then she carefully put on her pants. Mamm frowned but didn’t say a word about the jeans or the collared blouse or the white Nikes with fluorescent pink trim. She even knelt down and helped Cassie put her shoes on. In the days following the accident, her mamm had somehow come to terms with Cassie’s decision not to be baptized. Mamm hadn’t said a word about the church or Cassie’s wickedness in all her time spent in Cassie’s hospital room. She even cheerfully bore Zach’s presence even though he wasn’t Elmer Lee. Cassie was proud of her for making an effort.
A near-death experience could do that to a person.
Every moment Zach wasn’t working had been spent by Cassie’s side. She finally had to put her foot down—which was hard because she couldn’t even get out of bed—and insist that Zach go home and get a good night’s sleep. He’d done it reluctantly, but she held firm. She wasn’t about to let him catch pneumonia on her account.
A few days ago, his mom had come to town, and her presence had helped Cassie rest much easier. Not only had his mom taken over the job of monitoring Zach’s sleeping habits, but she had lifted some of the burden from Zach’s shoulders. She took shifts worrying about Cassie so Zach could get some rest.
Zach’s mom was just as Cassie had imagined her: loving, no-nonsense, devoted to her son and God. She had to have been a remarkable woman to have raised such a remarkable son.
At the times Cassie was lucid, she and Zach had talked about her accident and his newfound faith. He told her of his dream and his despair and Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. She told him of her decision to leave the community and her desperation to get to him after reading his letter.
They rejoiced in God’s tender mercies. And Zach smiled. A lot.
The visits and cookies and flowers from Amish and church friends never ceased. Mammi and Dawdi were at the hospital almost as much as Zach was, and her brothers and sisters and other relatives visited regularly. The doctor finally had to set strict rules about visitors. Cassie wouldn’t have gotten any rest.
The doctor said she could live just fine without a spleen, and some physical therapy on her back was all that was required for her to function normally again. Lord willing, she’d be good as new in a few short months.
“You’ll need your scarf and jacket,” Mamm said as she took Cassie’s hospital gown and folded it at the foot of the bed.
Someone knocked on the door to her room.
“Come in,” Cassie called, smoothing down her blouse. Mammi ambled into the room carrying a fuzzy pink sweater. “This is for you,” she said, holding out the sweater so Cassie could get a better look.
Cassie sighed and ran her fingers along the tightly knitted yarn. It felt silky soft, like a newborn buplie’s hair or a bunny rabbit’s fur. The yarn was light, feminine pink that Cassie knew would bring out the color in her cheeks.
“Mammi, this is beautiful.”
Mammi beamed even wider. “A beautiful sweater for a beautiful girl.”
“Don’t encourage vanity,” Mamm said, before clamping her lips shut. She looked as if she were biting her tongue.
Mammi raised an eyebrow. “God made Cassie beautiful, like the lilies of the field. Even the lilies wear petals.”
Mammi helped Cassie pull the sweater over her head and put her arms through the sleeves. It fit perfectly. The sleeves were long and the neck was high. A modified cable pattern ran down the front of the sweater. The collar of her blouse peeked out of the top and gave her a very tailored look. She liked it. “When did you make this?”
“I whipped it out whenever you weren’t around and stuffed it into my bag when you were home. I was sneaky. I knew the doctor would eventually work up the courage to ask you on a date. I had to be ready.”
Cassie giggled. Zach had been standing in the hall outside her room this morning when he dialed her cell phone. He had apologized profusely for calling a number she had only given him so he could check on Mammi’s foot, then proceeded to ask her on a date. Their first date. He told her he would pick her up at the hospital doors as soon as she was discharged.
Was it bad for her health that her heart raced as if it would trip over itself?
Cassie gave her mammi a kiss on the cheek. “Oh, Mammi. I’m so happy.”
“I am too. You’re number eight for me.”
“Number eight?”
“Number eight match.” She counted on her fingers. “Moses and Lia, Aden and Lily, Beth and Tyler, Gid and Dottie, Ben and Emma—they were together once already, but I got them back together. Lizzie and Mahlon—Felty says I can’t count them because they sort of got together on their own, but I’m counting them anyway, and Mandy and Noah. Though truly, Mandy and Noah are Felty’s match, and I should give credit where credit is due.”
Cassie’s jaw dropped to the floor. Her mamm’s did the same. “It was your plan to match me with the doctor?” Cassie said.
Cassie’s mamm looked momentarily indignant. “Mamm, how could you? He’s not even Amish. What about Elmer Lee?”
“Now, Esther. You know as well as I do that Elmer Lee was never going to work out for Cassie. Dr. Reynolds is a gute boy, and he makes Cassie very happy.”
Mamm’s expression softened to putty. She patted Cassie on the cheek. “The doctor is a gute man. He is not the one I would have chosen, but my Cassie deserves to be happy.”
“Jah,” Mammi said. “And he has such nice hair.”
Cassie hadn’t really wanted to ride in the wheelchair. She felt like enough of an invalid already. But the nurse insisted. Mamm and Mammi followed close behind as she was wheeled to the elevator and then out the sliding hospital doors.
Zach was leaning on the hood of his car with his arms folded, looking better than anyone had a right to look. Cassie took a deep breath and tried not to hyperventilate. This man, who had stepped straight out of a men’s fashion magazine, was taking her on a date.
He wore jeans and a navy blue sweater that had a pattern eerily similar to the one on the front of Cassie’s sweater. Another of Mammi’s creations?
He smiled as if he’d never really been happy until this very moment. “Hi,” he said.
“Hi.”
“You . . . I’ve never in my life . . . You look beautiful.” His eyes shone with admiration as he tried to find the words. He gestured at her sweater. “We match.”
She grinned. Mammi was a tricky one.
Zach opened the car door for her. She got into the car, trying not to wince. She was still very tender yet.
Zach grabbed a blanket from behind her seat and spread it over her legs, winking at her as he did. She held her breath and tried to calm her pulse. He’d feel bad if he caused her to have a heart attack.
Cassie waved goodbye to Mamm and Mammi as Zach pulled the car away from the curb and grabbed her hand. “Is this okay? Does it hurt?”
“It feels amazing,” she said.
“Yes, it does.” His smile was subtle, as if he were trying to contain all his happiness. “How are you feeling? Can I do anything to make you more comfortable?”
“I’m a little sore, but considering where I’ve been, I’d say I’m doing well.”
He squeezed her hand as if making sure she was still in the car. “I couldn’t be more grateful. I’m more than happy just seeing you out of the hospital. I’ll do my best to resist the urge to bury my fingers in your hair.”
“I should have worn a beanie.” She stifled a laugh. Laughing sent a sharp pain shooting through her chest. “So what have you planned for our first date?”
“The first plan is that it’s going to last about fifteen minutes. You need your rest.”
She frowned in mock disappointment. “I had hoped you’d take me hiking or kayaking. Or bowling is a good first date.”
“I’ve planned something less likely to put you back in the hospital. We’re having a gourmet lunch followed by a long nap.”
“For me
or for you?” She caressed his cheek with her hand. “You look tired.”
“Who can sleep when all I can think about is you?” Zach twisted his mouth into a grin and glanced sideways at her as he drove his car up the lane to Huckleberry Hill.
Cassie tried not to grimace. “A gourmet lunch at my mammi’s house?” Mammi’s cooking was worse than hospital food, and she was famished.
“Don’t worry. I did the cooking,” Zach said, his eyes dancing as he watched her face for a reaction.
The only thing worse than Mammi’s cooking was Zach’s cooking. He knew how to boil water and turn on the microwave. She might starve. “Oh, that’s nice,” she said, trying to infuse her voice with a hint of enthusiasm.
He chuckled. “Don’t be alarmed. I made an emergency trip to McDonald’s. I hope you like Big Macs.”
She smiled. “I love ’em.”
He came around to her side of the car and opened the door for her. Then he took her arm and helped her ease out of the car. It was uncomfortable, but she could stand it. He put a firm arm around her back and pulled her close to him. He smelled like hickory smoke. He must have been helping Dawdi with the fire this morning. She resisted the urge to bury her face in his blue sweater and breathe him in. He might think that was a little weird.
“Are you okay?” he said. “I don’t mind carrying you.”
She nodded and leaned on his arm as they ambled to the house. She’d been off her feet too long. The short walk to the house felt like a 5K. Mammi’s kitchen table was spread with a cheery yellow tablecloth and set with lime green plates and fuchsia napkins. A dozen brightly colored balloons hovered over a bouquet of deep red roses in the middle of the table. There was also a large McDonald’s bag next to the roses.
“Gourmet lunch,” he said, grinning sheepishly.
“You might not believe this, but I love burgers, and the hospital food left a little to be desired.” She sat down gingerly, and he sat next to her. “Are we having a party?” She pointed to the helium balloons.
“Yes,” he said, “to observe the passing of your spleen and to celebrate the fact that we have matching scars.” He pulled down the collar of his sweater to reveal an inch-long scar near his collarbone. She’d never noticed it before.
Cassie still wore a bandage to cover the jagged four-inch scar that zigzagged from her neck to her collarbone where she had been skewered by a piece of wood.
“How did you get that scar?”
He shrugged. “I got cleated by a squirrely forward. Six stitches. The important thing is that we match.”
“You haven’t got a scar underneath your rib cage, have you?”
He looked crestfallen. “No, but I do have one where they took my appendix out.”
“We’re still a pretty good match.”
He smiled and gazed at her as if seeing her for the first time. “The best.”
His look made her shy and excited and feverish all at the same time. Sir Galahad himself couldn’t have been more charming or more wonderful.
Zach’s smile disappeared as quickly as it had come, and he looked almost nervous. “Before your next painkiller kicks in, I need to ask you something.”
“Okay?”
He slid off his chair and got down on one knee.
Ach, du lieva. She hoped she didn’t faint.
“Cassie, I have loved you since the moment I met you. You are smart, beautiful, wonderful in every way. Your snickerdoodles could probably give rise to world peace. If I had lost you, I don’t think anything would have been able to save me. Even God’s love.”
She trembled at the thought. The accident had taken him to the edge of despair. If she had anything to say about it, he would never be there again.
“Will you marry me?” he said, and he actually looked unsure of her answer. That had to be fixed immediately.
“Can you truly love someone without a spleen?” she said, smiling so hard her neck stitches hurt.
He smiled back. “Can you truly love someone who isn’t an Amish guy?”
She leaned over, took his face in her hands, and kissed him swiftly on the lips. “With all my heart.”
He actually caught his breath as if he’d seen a glimpse of a heavenly vision. Had anyone ever been as truly in love as she was at this moment?
Zach slipped his hand into his pocket and retrieved a ring. It had a gold band with a princess cut diamond in the center and two smaller diamonds on either side. “It’s my mother’s,” he said. “She wanted you to have it.”
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered.
With shaking hands, he slid the ring on her finger.
A tear made a trail down her cheek. She held out her hand to get a better look. She’d never be worthy of such happiness in a million lifetimes. “It’s so much, Zach. A ring this beautiful shouldn’t—”
He grinned. “It’s too late to back down now. Mom would be devastated if you didn’t want it. I don’t deserve you, but you’re stuck with me.”
She laced her fingers with his. “You’re stuck with me. Spleen-less and all.”
Zach rose to his feet. “Can you stand for a minute?” When she nodded, he took her hands and gently tugged her up. “I want to kiss you in the worst way, but I’m determined to follow the kissing rules. No kissing while sitting down.”
“I’m disappointed you’re so strict about your own rules,” she said.
He groaned. “It’s just about killing me.”
With restrained eagerness, he carefully slid his arms around her and pulled her to him, bringing his lips frustratingly close. “Am I hurting you?”
“Just kiss me,” she commanded breathlessly.
Still handling her as if she were made of glass, he brought his lips down on hers and made her forget the pain. Basically, he made her forget everything except the need to be as close to him as possible. She breathed him in with every breath as the touch of his lips catapulted her to Paris and back again.
Three months ago, she never would have guessed that she’d be standing in Mammi’s kitchen kissing frat-boy Zach Reynolds. And now she couldn’t imagine life without him. He was everything to her, and she wanted to spend the rest of the life she’d been so graciously given loving him.
And the kissing wasn’t half bad either.
The problem with kissing while standing up was that your knees got weak and you were in danger of collapsing into a heap on the floor and popping all your stitches.
As soon as she got her reason back, she was going to rewrite those kissing rules.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Felty sat on the workbench sharpening his pruning shears while Anna lounged next to him reading a book. “How long do you think we need to hide in the barn?” Felty asked, tucking his coat more tightly around him.
Anna glanced up as she turned a page. “We need to give Dr. Reynolds enough time to propose to Cassie and give Cassie enough time to say yes. Do you remember what a disaster it was when we interrupted Tyler Yoder in the middle of his proposal? Beth dug in her heels and swore she wouldn’t have him.”
“I don’t think that will be a problem with Cassie and the doctor. Your sweaters did the trick, Annie Banannie.”
Anna smiled in perfect contentment. “Denki, Felty. It’s nice when people recognize my hard work.”
“I hope we don’t have to wait in the barn all day. Two people in love are apt to take their time.”
“These things can’t be rushed, dear.”
Felty finished with his pruning shears and started on the hoe. “What are you reading, Banannie? Another cookbook? The family sure is lucky to have a cook like you. The Helmuths eat better than the prince of Germany.”
Anna closed her book, set it on the bench between them, and clasped her hands together as if she were preparing for a very serious talk. “Felty dear, I’ve decided to take up crochet.”
“Crochet?”
She tapped the book in front of her. “If people get too much of a good thing, they don’t appreciate it.
I think die youngie are starting to take my knitting for granted.”
“That’s not true, Annie. I still see the excitement in the young folks’ eyes when you hand out your pot holders.”
Anna patted Felty’s knee. “Now, Felty, that’s because you always see the best in everyone. But I won’t be talked out of it, no matter how much you cherish my pot holders. I’m moving on to crocheted dishrags. That will stir things up a bit.”
Felty smiled. “And just who are you hoping to stir up yet?”
“We’ve made a lot of matches in our day, Felty, and some of them proved harder than getting a team of horses unstuck from the mud. But it’s time for our most challenging match yet.”
Felty put down his tools and fingered his beard. “And who would that be, Banannie?”
“I’m afraid we’ll never find just the right girl for him. He’s so trusting and sometimes so absentminded, like a turkey in the rain.”
“There’s someone for everyone, Annie, even Titus. Is that who you’re thinking of matching next?”
Anna nodded. “That boy is without guile, and if we’re not careful, we might unwittingly match him with a bossy, overbearing girl. It would break my heart to see sweet Titus get henpecked to death.”
Felty stroked his beard. “She’ll need to be sharp as a tack.”
“But we don’t want her to ever think she’s smarter than Titus.”
“Titus is smart enough. He just doesn’t flaunt it like some people.”
“Such a good boy,” Anna said, “but not in an obvious way. I’m going to have to become very proficient with a crochet hook. Shoddy work will not attract the right kind of girl.”
“What girl doesn’t love a crocheted dishrag?”
Anna sucked in her breath and grabbed Felty’s wrist. “Do you think it will be enough? Maybe I should take up painting. I could paint a lovely farm scene on a milk can.”
“What girl doesn’t love a decorative milk can of her very own?”
Anna pursed her lips. “There are so many ways of attracting a bride for Titus. I could grow flowers or cucumbers. I could cross-stitch a pillow or give her a puppy. Or write a poem for Titus to sing to her.” She held up a finger as another idea came to her. “We could give the girl a bale of hay to feed her horse.”
Huckleberry Hearts Page 33
