by Marta Perry
Wondering about Mary Alice and pondering her own future kept her thoughts busy, even if she didn’t come to any useful conclusions. It was a jolt to discover that she’d covered the route automatically and was already in sight of the greenhouses.
Trying to steel herself for her task, she walked quickly, only to be halted by the sight of Michael. He was rounding the corner of the greenhouse by the bench—the bench where he’d held her hand and she’d felt her heart melt.
Even now, Cathy could feel heat rising in her cheeks. She longed for a few minutes to compose herself, but it was too late. Michael had seen her and was already coming toward her.
She pressed her hands to her cheeks. He wouldn’t notice. And if he did, he’d think it was from the warm day. He’d come from a world where casual touching was commonplace. He couldn’t imagine the effect it had had on her.
“Cathy, what are you doing here? Or are you on your way home already?”
She drew in a steadying breath. “Your aunt sent me to pick up some more flowers to plant at the school. She decided she hadn’t brought enough.” She got the words out all right, but she probably looked as guilty as a kid with her hand in the cookie jar.
“I see.” The way he was studying her face flustered her. “Come along, then, and we’ll load some up.”
Avoiding his eyes, she hurried ahead of him, pulling the wagon behind her. With a sudden step he reached her and took the wagon handle from her, his fingers brushing hers and sending a shimmer of warmth along her skin.
“Anything in particular you want?”
She stared at him blankly, not sure what he meant.
His lips twitched. “I mean, marigolds? Zinnias? Sunflowers?”
“Yah, right.” Now she was sure she was blushing. “Marigolds, I think. And some zinnias.”
Michael didn’t move. He stood in front of her, a frown slowly drawing his dark eyebrows together. “You may as well tell me what’s going on, Cathy. That face of yours was never designed for fooling anyone.”
She tried frantically to think of something short of the whole story, but it was useless.
Glancing from her to the wagon, he nodded. “I see. That’s Ruthie’s wagon—the one she and Allie were playing with. I don’t have to look very far for the explanation. This is some plan of my sister’s, isn’t it?”
When she didn’t answer, he clasped her wrists in a firm grip, bringing her gaze to his face.
“What’s Sarah trying to do, Cathy?”
It was no use. It never had been. “Your daad is there—at the school. She thought, if you helped me bring the flowers, you two would see each other in a—a neutral situation. Don’t be angry, Michael. She meant it for the best. This rift with your father is hurting her so much.”
She could see that penetrate—see the way he recoiled from the idea that he was causing his sister pain.
Letting go of her wrists, he rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. “I didn’t think.” His face twisted. “I never even considered how my return was affecting her. All this time I’ve been accepting her love and her help, and not giving a thought to how it affected her.”
He turned away with a single abrupt movement. Grabbing the wagon, he pulled it to the flower racks and started loading.
Cathy’s throat was tight with pain for him. For Sarah, too, and even for Josiah. What a tangle it was, and her efforts to help had only made it worse.
Silently she helped him load the flowers. When the wagon was full, she found her voice.
“Denke. I’ll take it back. If you want, I could just say that I couldn’t get you to come.”
Amusement flickered in Michael’s face. “You won’t be any more convincing with Sarah than you were with me.”
Surprise put a lift in her voice. “You’re not angry?”
“Not with you.” He grimaced. “Not really with Sarah either. Just mad at the whole situation.” He seized the handle. “Let’s go by the road. It’ll be easier than trying to pull a child’s wagon on the path.”
She was finally able to smile again. “I did it.”
“When it was empty.” He pulled it effortlessly to the driveway. “Let’s go.”
Almost afraid to believe her eyes, Cathy walked beside him. “You’re coming, then?”
“I’ll help you get the wagon there. That’s all I’m promising.”
It was something, if not all that Sarah had hoped. She’d have to be content with it. Although, knowing Sarah, she doubted it.
They walked in silence for a few minutes. Then he shot a sideways glance at her. “Now, why do you look so apprehensive? I’m not going to make a scene.”
“I know. I was just wondering what Sarah would come up with next.”
“She always did have tons of half-baked ideas.”
“As I recall, she claims she was the one who followed you into mischief.”
“I’d say the blame was about equally divided. Although Daad always figured I could have stopped her.” The somber expression came back. “You said Daad was there. How does he look?”
The question took her by surprise. “You have to remember that I’ve been seeing him every week or so for the years you were away. Any changes would be gradual.” She tried to organize her thoughts. Michael deserved a better answer than that. “He’s still quite strong—does a full day’s work from what I’ve heard. When I left he was raking grass in the ball field while Lige mowed.”
“I haven’t asked Sarah much.” He stared straight ahead, but she didn’t think he saw the gentle curve in the road or the purple spurge along the ditch. “Thought it would be awkward. But that didn’t mean I’m not interested.”
“I’m sorry.” She felt as guilty as if it were her fault. “I suppose everyone hesitates to bring it up. He’s well, I’m sure. He runs the dairy farm with your brothers to help.”
“I thought maybe Jonah would be married by now and taking over.”
“He’s just eighteen, although he’s courting Becky Fisher. You wouldn’t remember her. She’s Sam Fisher’s youngest girl.”
He nodded. “I hope it works out for him.” His smile flickered. “In one way, it seems impossible he could be courting age. When I left, he was just the kid brother who wanted to do everything I did.” The smile vanished. “Glad he didn’t.”
There was nothing useful she could say to that, she realized.
“So Daad was there working. Allie went with Verna. Is he... Did he show any interest in her?”
“I think Verna was being careful not to push them together, which was wise.” She remembered the way Josiah had gazed over her shoulder when they were talking together. “He knew who Allie was, of course. He didn’t go over to her, but I saw that he kept looking that way...watching her running around with Ruthie.”
His face tightened. “He was curious.”
Cathy corrected him gently. “He couldn’t take his eyes off her.”
They’d nearly reached the school, and Michael still wore that closed-off expression, as if he had a big no-trespassing sign in front of him. If he went in like that, who would dare to approach him? Didn’t he see that he had to give a little?
The answer to that was clear—no. He didn’t.
* * *
MICHAEL’S TENSION GREW as they neared the school. People were scattered around the school yard, busy with cleanup projects. Looked like a lot of chatter going on, too, but he noticed the talk ceasing as people turned to look at him. Then they looked away, trying not to stare, trying to pick up their interrupted conversations. Maybe it was his imagination that said they were having trouble with that.
These were people he knew—people who had known him since he was a child. He’d spent more years here than he had away, and still, he wasn’t sure how they were going to react.
He tried to focus on the schoolhouse, not the people. He’d been
here with Allie, but suddenly he was assaulted by memories. He saw himself going in that doorway for the first time, lagging behind his mother, unwilling to begin what she insisted would be an adventure.
So it had, in a way. Mammi had promised he’d be fine once he got used to it, and he was. Maybe a little too fine, since he’d quickly earned a reputation for mischief.
He’d found a kindred spirit in Jacob King, just his age and just as ready to get into any sort of devilment. That had lasted well into their teens, but when Michael had started hanging out with the Englisch, Jacob hadn’t liked it. That had been the first real quarrel they’d ever had. And the last.
Cathy cleared her throat, reminding him of her presence. “We’re getting things ready for all the spring events at school.” She seemed to be trying to make this easier by talking. “I can’t believe how quickly the school year is going.”
Poor Cathy. She didn’t want to be involved. The least he could do was try to talk naturally to her.
“I know. Picnic lunches and the end-of-the-year program. Is it still hard to get them to learn their parts?”
“Much harder than for the Christmas program. They’re too distracted by wanting to get outside.” She managed a smile. “Not that we were ever like that.”
“Speak for yourself. I couldn’t wait for school to be over. You have many eighth graders to graduate this year?”
“Three, all boys. They’re a fine group. John is going to be an apprentice at the machine shop, and Caleb will help his older brother in the harness shop. Joshua’s father has a dairy farm, so he has a future mapped out. I just hope he keeps his mind on the cows better than he did on his schoolwork.”
He was really just listening to the sound of her voice, letting it soothe his frazzled nerves. But he ought to reply. “You’re short of girls this year, ain’t so?”
“Yah, but I’ll have four next year.” She hesitated. “If I’m still here, that is.”
That penetrated his absorption. “You mean the school board still hasn’t given you a contract?”
“Not yet.” She didn’t meet his eyes.
“You’re a terrific teacher. They’d be ferhoodled not to beg you to stay on.”
She just shrugged.
“I’d tell them so, but I guess that would do more harm than good.” Then he realized why she wasn’t looking at him. Just being involved with him to this extent was probably not doing her any good either.
They reached the school yard, and his sister came hurrying to meet them.
“Denke, Michael. I don’t know why we didn’t think to bring more plants over.”
“Forget it, Sarah. I know just what you’re up to, so don’t act innocent with me.”
He saw her gaze dart toward Cathy, and he shook his head. “Don’t think about blaming Cathy. She did her best. You forget I know exactly what kind of sneaky plans you get up to.”
“You should.” Sarah’s eyes crinkled. “I learned from you, ain’t so?”
“Not all of it. What were you thinking to involve Cathy in your plans? Being seen with me isn’t going to do her reputation with the school board any good.”
Shock widened Sarah’s eyes, and he regretted speaking so sharply. She honestly hadn’t thought of it. That was Sarah, so wrapped up in her plan she didn’t see anything else.
“Don’t...” Cathy began.
“Cathy, I’m sorry.” Sarah swung to her. “I never thought.”
“It’s all right.” Cathy seized the wagon handle. “Let’s get these planted. We can’t just stand here.”
She was right. Carrying on as if everything was normal—that was the only way to handle it. He took the handle back and dragged the heavy wagon to the spot Sarah indicated along the side of the schoolhouse. Once it was in position, he dropped the handle.
“There, flowers delivered. I’ll be going.”
Sarah grabbed his arm. “Ach, Michael, I’m sorry. But don’t rush away. Please. Give people a chance.”
It wasn’t Sarah’s words that changed his mind; it was the expression on Cathy’s face. If it mattered that much to her, the least he could do was cooperate.
He nodded.
Sarah had sense enough not to talk about it. She handed him a trowel and together they started setting out the plants. Cathy, with a look of relief, moved off toward a group that was painting the swing uprights.
“Denke, Michael,” his sister murmured. “I know you didn’t want to stay.”
“I guess I ought to do my share. My daughter comes here to school, too.”
They worked along the side of the building in silence. When they’d reached the end, Michael leaned back, stretching, and got up. That was when he realized someone stood a few feet away, watching him.
Jacob King. It took a moment to be sure. The years between eighteen and twenty-eight meant changes, but Jacob still had that stubborn cowlick where his hair tried to curl. The laugh lines around his eyes were new. Even with his chin hidden by the short growth of beard, it was undoubtedly Jacob. Michael’s lips twitched when he saw that the beard had a tendency to curl as well. How Jacob must hate that.
“Well, Jacob.” He waited for the man who’d once been his best friend to act.
Finally a smile tugged at Jacob’s mouth, and he moved closer. “You’ve changed.” His tone was wary, but at least he was talking.
“So have you. You’re married now?”
“Esther Miller said she’d take me on. We have a boy in school, and another one ready to start in the fall. The little girl is still a baby.”
“So now you’re a responsible grown-up. Do you ever tell your boy about all the trouble you got into when you were in school?”
“That we got into, don’t you mean,” Jacob corrected him, and now the smile grew into something more like the one Michael remembered. “Seems to me you were the one with all the ideas, ain’t so? Like the time you hid all the chalk so the teacher couldn’t find it. How about I tell your little girl about that?”
Michael grinned and shook his head. “It wouldn’t matter how many ideas you gave her, Allie wouldn’t pull tricks on Teacher Cathy. She loves her.”
“Yah, so does my boy. She’s a little different from the teachers we had.”
“Different, but better,” Michael said quickly, relieved when Jacob nodded agreement.
“I better get back to work.” Jacob nodded toward the painting project. He hesitated and then clapped Michael on the shoulder. “Komm see us. Soon.”
Michael watched him. The same Jacob. And if not the same relationship, there was at least the promise of something good to be established.
He didn’t have time to decide what to do next, because Allie raced around the corner of the building, Ruthie in hot pursuit, and hurtled herself at his legs.
“Daadi, guess what?” She clutched him, tilting her head to look up.
“What?” He put a gentle hand on her silky hair.
“Ruthie says that’s our grandfather over there.” She pointed toward the ball field. “Hers and mine, too. Don’t you want to see him?”
He struggled for the right answer, noticing that Cathy was watching them. She’d have seen Allie pointing. She’d guess what Allie was saying.
“Please, Daadi.” She caught his hand.
“Let’s go.” Ruthie, dancing a little with impatience, grabbed his other hand. “Komm. We’ll see Grossdaadi. I’ll tell him who you are.”
He had to stifle a smile at that. His father knew only too well who he was. Knew, had seen him and hadn’t approached him. That didn’t bode well for any reunion.
He wouldn’t be a coward about it, but as he let the girls propel him along, a lead weight formed in his stomach. He could handle it if Daad were harsh, but what about Allie?
Daad saw them coming. He straightened, turning to face them. His face was shadowed by the
brim of his straw hat, so Michael couldn’t see his expression, but his stance was that of one braced for unpleasantness.
It felt like the longest walk he’d ever taken. People were watching—covertly, trying not to stare, but wanting to know. Was Josiah going to welcome back his prodigal son? If so, it would be a sign for them. If not...
He came to a halt a couple of feet from his father and met his stare. Daad’s eyes were like flint, and his face was fixed and forbidding—enough to scare anyone away.
But Ruthie reached out to grab his hand and tugged at it. “Grossdaadi, here are Allie and Onkel Michael. You are Allie’s grossdaadi, too, ain’t so?”
With what seemed an effort, Daad looked away from him, tilting his head to look down at Ruthie. Her lively face turned up to his, her eyes danced. “Ain’t so?” she said again. “Don’t you want to say hello to Allie?”
Michael felt his jaw turn to rock. If Daad did or said anything to hurt Allie...
Slowly, very slowly, Daad squatted down so that he was level with the two girls. He looked searchingly at Allie, and she returned the stare, her brown eyes serious and intent.
With the effect of ice breaking up, Daad smiled. His face warmed, and he reached out a tentative hand to Allie.
“So you are Allie. I am wonderful glad to meet you, Allie.”
For an instant, Allie’s shyness kept her silent. Then, at a nudge from Ruthie, she nodded. “I am wonderful glad to meet you, too.”
Daad blinked, as if he had something in his eyes. He touched her cheek, very gently. “You and Ruthie must come soon to see me, yah? We’ll have a picnic. Would you like that?”
She nodded but then glanced up at Michael. “And Daadi, too.”
Michael winced. His father rose to meet his eyes.
“You’ve come back at last.”
“Yah.” No point in trying to put a gloss on the reason. “Allie and I needed a home.”
