by Leslie Gould
“That’s not my worry,” I said. Because he’d just turned defensive on me—after I thought he had a sense of humor—I wasn’t sure about going, not at all. “Can I let you know tomorrow?”
“Sure,” he said.
As he walked down the back steps, Levi’s buggy turned the corner. Pete kept on going, into the dark night, toward the showroom.
By the time I was back inside, pulling the door closed behind me, Betsy was bounding up the stairs and then throwing the door wide open.
She burst through. “Why’d you let him leave already?” Her Kapp was askew and her face was red.
“He wanted to get some work done,” I answered, starting the hot water for the glasses.
“I was hoping we could all visit.”
“I’m going to bed after I finish these dishes. Dat poured lemonade for you and Levi.” I gestured toward the table, but Betsy wasn’t interested.
“So did you have a good time?” Betsy’s eyes shone brightly as she turned her attention back to me.
“Jah,” I answered.
“And you two are courting? Right?”
I frowned. “He asked me to go kayaking on Saturday, so . . . maybe.” If he got over his little fit.
Betsy gave me a quick hug and then rushed out the back door to find Levi. After I finished washing the glasses, I told Dat good night.
“Pete’s a hard worker, jah? Wanting to get a head start on tomorrow. That’s admirable.”
I nodded.
“He’s a good man, Cate.” Dat stood. “I’m sure he’s the one.”
“Ach, don’t say that.” I stepped away. “You can’t know.”
“We’ll see,” he answered, a smile spreading across his face.
My feet landed heavily on the stairs on my way to bed, still disturbed at the way Pete had reacted and then by his escape down to the showroom to work. I hadn’t expected him to be so thin-skinned.
I continued to mull over Pete’s behavior the next morning, but I didn’t seek him out to see how he was. Dat had gone into Lancaster for a business meeting, leaving Pete alone on the showroom floor. Several contractors stopped in during the morning, mostly doing remodels, which he seemed to handle just fine. Unlike me, he was gifted at small talk. He also wasn’t afraid to offer his ideas, whether it saved the customer money or cost a little more.
Just before noon he knocked on my office door, opening it quickly. “Can you help me out?”
I tucked my pencil behind my ear, pushed the spreadsheet to the center of my desk, and followed him into the showroom.
An Englisch woman, probably in her midthirties, was leaned over the counter, scanning a catalog. She wore a tight pair of jeans and a skimpy shirt.
“This is Cate,” Pete said. “She knows a whole lot more about this than I do.”
“What can I help you with?” I stepped to the other side of the counter.
“Oh.” She looked from me to Pete and then stood up straight, pulling her handbag to her side.
“I’ll be back in a minute,” Pete said, striding out the back door. I watched him until, to my surprise, he turned and smiled at me. Then he pulled the door shut.
The woman cleared her throat, and I turned my attention to her, feeling a little flustered. “I wondered if these came with a pullout pantry,” she said, flipping the catalog pages to the maple cabinets.
They all did. Pete knew that. I turned the binder around. “Yes, they do. We can customize these shelves to your exact specifications as far as the widths and heights of the shelves, how many you want, how deep you want them, and what type.”
She leaned a little closer, but not as far as she had been.
“We have several pullouts in our kitchen,” I said.
“You live here?”
“Jah,” I answered.
She smiled a little. “So you and Pete are married.”
“Oh, no.” My face grew warm.
She smiled more. “Oh, I see. Well, then, you look at him like you’d like to be. And he’s obviously fond of you.”
I blushed and glanced toward the closed door, hoping Pete wasn’t on the other side, listening to our conversation.
She shrugged. “I thought maybe you and he were the owners.”
I shook my head.
“Cute guy.”
My face grew even warmer. I wasn’t used to a stranger being so forward. I stuttered, “W-w-ould . . .” I swallowed hard and got my sentence out on the second try. “Would you like me to show you anything else?”
“This is good for now. I’ll be back once I’m ready to make a decision.” She headed toward the exit as I closed the binder. I glanced up, expecting her to be gone. Instead she stood in the doorway. “If I was a nice young Amish woman like you, I’d snag that guy in a heartbeat. You’d be crazy not to.”
I put my hand to my face to hide my smile, but I think she saw it anyway because she grinned back at me, then flicked her long hair over her shoulder and strode out to the parking lot. I liked her—and felt a little sorry for her too. There were so many things I appreciated about being Amish, and the way we dressed was definitely one of them. Being immodest was never a consideration. Or using the way we dressed to push ourselves on others.
Pete must have been waiting for her to leave because he came in through the back a minute later.
“Denki,” he said.
“You seem to have a way with the ladies.”
He stepped past me, saying, “Only certain ones, I’m afraid.”
I wanted to tell him I wouldn’t be too sure of that but decided that seemed too forward.
“I’m grateful for your help.” He dipped his head.
“She’ll probably be back.”
He groaned.
“Maybe my Dat can help her,” I said.
He laughed. “She’d probably hit on him too.”
As I left the showroom, I couldn’t help but think of the story of Joseph in the Bible and how he fled from Potiphar’s wife. It was hard for me to admit it, but Pete seemed more and more trustworthy each day.
A half hour later, as I walked up to the house for lunch, Addie stood with Betsy on the edge of the herb garden, chatting away. Uncle Cap, in his overprotective role, didn’t like her to come over when the crew was around.
Just as I reached the girls, the shop door opened and Mervin and Martin spilled out, followed by a few of the other crew members. It was a chilly day, a little too cold to eat outside, with dark clouds threatening more April showers.
Mervin and Marvin came to a halt at the sight of Addie and Betsy together. I could guess what they were thinking. Another girl as cute as Betsy. Even though Addie was seventeen, her parents didn’t allow her to go to singings yet, and because they were in different districts, and their families were at odds, M&M probably hadn’t seen her in quite a while.
Personally I thought my aunt and uncle were asking for trouble by prohibiting Addie from having a normal social life. No one talked about it much, but when it came to Addie, they were the most controlling parents I knew.
Mervin turned to Pete, who was coming around the exterior of the showroom. “What were you saying about going kayaking on Saturday?”
Pete shot me a glance and I shrugged.
“Could we make it an outing? Like the hike?” Mervin clenched his hands together, as if pleading.
“What do you say, Cate?”
I shrugged again. Two weeks ago I wouldn’t have wanted to go anywhere with M&M, but the hike hadn’t been that bad, except for the comments about my cooking. And Pete seemed entirely over his odd episode after the singing. I was willing to give it another try.
“I guess,” I said, intentionally sounding noncommittal. I didn’t want all of them to think I was too eager.
Mervin clapped his hands together. “Levi!” he called out, heading back into the shop.
Betsy whispered something to Addie, and then the two laughed. It looked as if there would be three of us couples going. Pete and me. Betsy and Levi. And M
ervin and Addie, if Uncle Cap would allow it. That left Martin as the odd man out, or perhaps he’d come along on his own.
The thought of going kayaking made me both nervous and excited. The river was probably high and fast. I’d never been kayaking, although I had seen one on top of a buggy before. I wondered if paddling down the river would give me the same thrill as racing Thunder. That, I was excited about. Going on another outing without Dat and Nan was what made me nervous.
For the first time in my life I felt close to belonging to a group, but I couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that it wouldn’t last.
CHAPTER
8
My anticipation built as the week passed by. Pete continued to be kind and attentive, greeting me every morning and seeking me out every evening after he put in a couple of hours of work after quitting time. When I checked his time card, I discovered he’d been clocking out at the normal time and then going back to the showroom to teach himself more about the business.
By Thursday morning, I admitted to myself that I’d reached a stage of cautious optimism, something I hadn’t felt for the last two years. I longed for it to keep growing.
That afternoon, Levi announced he had to go with his father and brothers to a barn raising in their district on Saturday so he couldn’t go kayaking with us. Several times that afternoon he and Betsy conversed by the rose garden. Levi was supposedly teaching her how to take care of the bushes, but it was obvious as they stared into each other’s eyes they were talking about other things. After work she told me Levi was fine with her going with the group, and that Martin would be going too.
That evening Dat and Pete went over to the property where Nan lived, to repair the leaky pipe and fix the cabinets in the main house. When Dat got home, he said Pete was as handy with tools as he was good at sales. “He continues to impress me,” Dat said, his voice full of cheer.
I hid my smile, not wanting to add to my father’s hopes. But I couldn’t help but feel the same way about Pete.
On Friday Uncle Cap came over to talk with Dat about the outing. I could hear them outside my open office door. Dat assured him Pete was responsible and that all of us would be wearing life jackets.
“I don’t know about those twins,” Uncle Cap said.
“They’ve been working for me for nearly a year,” Dat said. “I haven’t had a bit of trouble with them.”
Then Uncle Cap asked three times if I would be going along, and then a fourth time said, “You’re sure Cate will be there?”
“Jah,” Dat said. “She enjoyed the hike last Saturday with the same people. I can’t see any reason why she wouldn’t go tomorrow.”
A second later the two bustled into my office. Dat was tall but my uncle was nearly a giant. He was at least six and a half feet tall and almost as broad as our barn. His gray hair stuck up around his head, making his face look even rounder than usual. Although he was my Mamm’s brother, I couldn’t imagine the two ever looked anything alike. He was only a few years older than Dat but looked as if he were a decade older, at least.
“You’re going tomorrow, right?” Dat asked.
I nodded.
“For sure, Cate?” Uncle Cap stepped around Dat.
“Jah.”
“And you think it’s fine if I let Addie go? These boys—”
“They’re fine,” I said, hardly believing I was vouching for M&M. “I’ll look after her.”
“Denki,” Uncle Cap said, although his voice still sounded a little unsure. “I’ll let her go, then.”
He followed Dat back out and shut the door. I wasn’t sure if Uncle Cap’s motivation to worry was because he had a grudge against M&M’s family or because his older boys were wild. His oldest three had quite a reputation for raising trouble. I understood why he would worry about how boys might treat his daughter.
The next day, we left after lunch. Again Pete and M&M carried backpacks, and I carried a bag with a change of clothes for myself, Betsy, and Addie wrapped in plastic bags, just in case we capsized. I assumed the men each carried an extra change of clothes too. And perhaps a snack. We had the same van and driver as before, but this time he sat up front alone and we paired off on the three benches, with Pete and me on the first one. With Levi not along, now that he had the chance, Martin sat by Betsy in the back, leaving Mervin and Addie in the middle. We bypassed the city of Lancaster, heading south and then west toward the river. Betsy and Addie did most of the talking, although M&M interrupted from time to time.
The morning had been overcast with a drizzle of rain, but as we traveled the sun poked through the clouds. The leaves of the trees fluttered, displaying every shade of green imaginable. The faded tulips bent toward colorful annuals lining flowerbeds and spilling over pots and window boxes. Garden after garden showcased rows of seedlings, and the calves danced around their mothers, across the brilliant green grass in the pastures. The landscape sparkled with new life in a way I didn’t remember from other springs.
We passed a campground and then a state park. The driver slowed and pulled into a parking lot.
Pete handled the details of renting the three kayaks, the helmets, and the life jackets. He then asked the van driver to return at nine o’clock.
“Does Uncle Cap know?” I asked, a little alarmed.
“Oh, jah. Of course,” Pete said. “We cleared it with your Dat too.” Then he explained as we all headed down to the dock that the man from the rental place would pick us up downriver and bring us back to meet our driver.
After strapping on a life jacket and then the helmet over my Kapp, I eyed the vessel, wondering how hard it would be to step into it in a dress, but as I watched the man get Betsy and Martin situated in the first kayak it didn’t look too difficult. Next Addie and Mervin stepped into theirs, and then Pete and I, with my bag over my shoulder, climbed into the last kayak on the other side of the dock. I quickly slid my free hand down the back of my skirt and tucked the length of it under my legs as I sat, covering the seat. Then I positioned the bag of clothes at my feet.
Between the man from the rental place and Pete, we had all sorts of information coming at us.
We were to keep our weight centered in the craft. If we capsized, we were supposed to not panic, stay with the kayak, find our paddle, and float on our backs.
We told the man good-bye and started on our way.
The other two couples began to paddle in circles ahead of us. Pete told them to wait. On our first try the paddles moved in sync, from left to right. In the water on one side and out; in on the other side and then out. Back to the left; back to the right again. Our movement felt practically effortless.
Once we caught up with the others, Pete coached them through the strokes, telling Betsy she needed to let Martin, who was in the back, take the lead. And then telling Mervin he needed to take charge too.
Addie and Mervin moved ahead a little ways, but we soon caught up with and then passed them. I felt like Sacagawea, leading the way on an epic expedition. The spring sunshine warmed my face and hands. Ahead a blue heron took off from the shore, flying low, his talons dangling over the water. Pete asked if I saw it.
“Jah,” I said. “He’s beautiful.”
The current grew faster. An otter splashed to the right of us, and a flock of returning geese flew overhead.
I looked back at Pete. His shirtsleeves were rolled to the elbow and then pushed up on his arm. With each stroke, his muscles rippled, contracting and then relaxing. The geese began to honk as their leader started toward the marshy area on the other side of the river.
When I turned back to face the front, I couldn’t help but smile, with no one to see me.
“Pete!” Martin shouted from behind. I looked back again. He and Betsy were getting the hang of the kayak and paddling hard. Not far behind them were Addie and Mervin. “Wait for us—and then we can have a proper race, down to the bend.”
“That okay with you?” Pete asked.
I nodded, pleased he asked my opinion.
/> We slowed until they all caught up, and we formed a line straight across the river, as best we could.
Betsy called out, “On your mark. Ready? Set. Go!”
Off we went. It was obvious within a few strokes that Pete and I were going to win. I knew the others would chalk it up to the fact that Pete had kayaked before. Or maybe that I loved to race. But the truth was, we made a good team. Plus we were probably both a little more competitive than we should have been.
As we reached the bend, Pete shouted in victory. I turned toward him, and he reached forward with his paddle. I raised mine and he tapped it, a huge smile on his face. “Way to go!” His eyes locked on mine. “You’re a great sportswoman.”
I blushed but took it as a compliment.
We both looked behind us. Addie and Mervin were gaining on Betsy and Martin, and when they pulled up beside them, Martin poked at Mervin with his oar. Mervin grabbed it and yanked it out of his hands.
“Let’s go,” Pete said.
“What if they knock each other over?”
“They have life jackets.”
“I told Uncle Cap I’d watch out for Addie.”
“Knock it off!” Betsy’s voice was harsh.
“I’ll have to tell Levi he didn’t have to worry about Betsy going off without him.” Pete laughed. “I think she’s getting annoyed with M&M.”
I smiled that he used my nickname for the twins and rowed all the harder.
As it turned out, the kayaks stayed upright—at least for a while.
Around four o’clock, we docked for a snack at a state park. A group of Englisch having a picnic gawked at us the whole time, so we soon headed back to the kayaks for the last leg of our journey. Addie fed a few crackers to the ducks paddling along, while both Martin and Mervin flirted with Betsy.
“You take the back,” Pete said as we strapped our life vests back on.
I did, gladly, stepping in quickly and again slipping my hands under my skirt to pull it beneath my legs. Pete handed me the bag with the change of clothes, and I pushed it down between my feet. I easily steered us away from the dock before the others were back in their kayaks.
