by Marta Perry
Katie’s lips pressed together, her eyes narrowing. “There won’t be,” she said sharply, and turned away.
CHAPTER THREE
Katie couldn’t shake off the warning in Caleb’s words. All through supper, even as she and Rhoda washed and dried the dishes, she fretted over it, wondering whether she should say anything to her sister.
The pan Rhoda was drying clattered to the countertop. “You don’t want me here.” The words burst out as if Rhoda couldn’t hold them back. “It’s not as if I had a choice, either.”
“Rhoda, what are you talking about?” Katie dried her hands on the dish towel and reached toward her little sister.
Rhoda jerked back as if she’d been stung, brown eyes snapping with anger. “You might as well admit it. Daad and Mamm wanted to be rid of me, so they pushed me off on you. And you don’t want me, either.”
“That’s not true. Mamm and Daadi . . .” Katie hesitated, not sure what to say. “Well, maybe they thought you’d do better here.”
“You mean Mamm was afraid I’d embarrass Louise and her precious Jonas.”
Since that was just about what Mamm had said, Katie could hardly deny it. She tried to smile. “Ach, you know how excited Mamm is about getting one of her daughters married off, after being disappointed by me. We just have to be patient with her.”
Rhoda’s lips trembled, and she pressed them together, scowling. “Everything’s always about Louise. I’m sick of hearing about her, and the bishop’s son, and all the plans for the wedding.”
Rhoda sounded fierce, but Katie could read the hurt behind her anger.
“I know.” She reached out tentatively to touch her sister’s arm. It was stiff and rigid, but at least Rhoda didn’t pull away again. “I know it’s hard. That’s probably how Rachel and Kathy Ann feel about you.”
“Them?” Rhoda dismissed the mention of their two youngest sisters with a sniff.
“Don’t you think they envy you, starting your rumspringa?”
Rhoda considered. “Maybe. But nobody’s telling them they have to be good, and be careful, and don’t draw attention, and don’t do anything to embarrass Louise.”
A wave of sympathy rippled through Katie. Mamm loved all five of her daughters, but she had trouble showing that love when they weren’t doing what she wanted. Katie had felt the same way Rhoda did only too often herself.
“Komm, now.” She put an arm around Rhoda’s shoulders. “That’s only Mamm worrying. You know that.”
“Maybe.” Rhoda’s voice wavered a bit. “But she said I’d have to stay with you, and now you don’t want me, either.”
Careful. She was responsible for her little sister, and she didn’t want to make a mistake. “Why would you say that?”
“You hardly said a word to me all through supper,” Rhoda pointed out. “And you looked like you were a million miles away.”
Not a million miles. Just down in Caleb’s shop, feeling that astonishing warmth between them. Warmth that had turned too quickly to ice when he’d said what he did about her sister.
“Ach, you mustn’t mind me.” Katie tried to make her tone light. “Since I moved into the apartment I’ve been so busy getting the shop ready to open, I haven’t thought about anything else. I guess I’ve gotten into the habit of being quiet. It’s not that I don’t want you here, that’s certain-sure.”
Rhoda looked at her as if measuring the truth of what she said. She must have been convincing, because Rhoda’s heart-shaped face relaxed a little. “You’re sure?”
“Ja, I am.”
“It seems like a fine place to be.” Rhoda’s gesture seemed to take in the four-room apartment. “I’d love to live like this, having my own place right above the street where you can look out and see what’s happening if you want. Or be quiet if you want. With Rachel and Kathy Ann around, I don’t get enough peace to think for a minute.”
Katie decided to ignore the comment about their little sisters, who were a bit noisy, come to think of it. “The apartment is nice.” She couldn’t deny that she enjoyed having a place of her own, even if it was only rented from Bishop Mose. “I can concentrate on the shop for now. But you know, I found it was getting a little lonely, too. Now that you’re here, I don’t have to worry about that.”
“Are you sure?” Some of Rhoda’s natural liveliness came back into her face.
“I’m sure.” She gave her little sister a hug. “It’s early yet. Komm, let’s walk down to the corner and get an ice cream for our dessert. To celebrate our first day in the shop together and having you here with me.” She needed to know what Rhoda had done that had so upset Mamm, but tonight wasn’t the time to ask. Tonight she’d just try to cement their relationship.
“You mean it?” Rhoda loved ice cream, but it was a rare treat at home, unless Daad got out the old ice-cream maker when the berries were ripe.
“I’ll tell you a secret,” Katie said, gathering her keys and money. “Having an ice-cream cone might be the best thing about living in town.”
Rhoda giggled. “I’ll take ice cream over another talk about Louise’s dower chest anytime. I guess Mamm has to be excited about it, being the first wedding that really—” She stopped, looking stricken. “I mean—”
“It’s all right.” Katie managed a smile and hoped it was convincing. “Really. That’s in the past.”
“You’re not still sad about Eli?”
“Not a bit.”
Sad wasn’t exactly the right word. She was still mourning the life they should have had together.
The truth was that she still loved Eli. The fact that he’d decided he didn’t love her couldn’t alter her feelings.
She followed Rhoda down the stairs, unable to prevent herself from glancing into the dim interior of Caleb’s shop. Those moments when she’d touched him, when she’d thought she felt something—well, that was a mistake. She couldn’t feel anything for anyone else because her heart belonged to Eli, and it always would.
After a week, she and Rhoda had fallen into a comfortable pattern, Katie decided. She glanced toward the back room, where Becky was helping Rhoda clean. The two girls had formed a rather surprising friendship in such a short time, and when her work in Caleb’s shop was finished, Becky tended to show up in the quilt shop, lending a hand with whatever Rhoda was doing.
“Hanging out,” Rhoda called it, a term that no doubt came from those Englisch friends Mamm had deplored so much. Fortunately, there had been none of those problems here. The birthday party Becky had invited Rhoda to had gone smoothly, with no ruffles to annoy Caleb.
Katie felt her own little spurt of annoyance. Becky was such a shy, quiet little thing—certainly not a description anyone would apply to Rhoda. In Rhoda’s lively, talkative company, Becky seemed to come out of her shell a bit. Caleb ought to be happy about that, but Katie didn’t suppose he was.
She paused in rearranging fabric bolts to glance into Caleb’s shop. No one was in sight. Apparently he was upstairs in the second-floor workroom. Becky’s handiwork was evident, though. The floor was spotless, the front window shone, and every piece of furniture on display seemed to glow. Did Caleb appreciate all that his niece was doing? Manlike, he might not even notice.
Katie’s hand lingered on a length of flannelette she’d gotten in for folks making baby clothes and children’s nightgowns. The Amish wouldn’t buy quilts, since they either made them or received them as gifts. But they might start coming to her for their other fabric and sewing needs, instead of making the trip to Lewisburg or Mifflinburg to a fabric store.
The sale of quilts and quilted items depended on Englisch customers, and so far, her store traffic hadn’t been nearly what she’d hoped.
It had only been just over a week, she reminded herself. Things would pick up. She’d put an ad in a weekly shopping paper that other local Amish shops advertised in. That should help.
But the ad had cost more than she’d expected. Everything did, and when she’d sat down to reckon up her expenses on
Saturday evening, she’d been appalled at how quickly her savings were melting away.
The sound of footsteps crossing the other shop pulled her away from that depressing line of thought. Caleb. She’d already learned to recognize his firm stride.
He came through the archway carrying a large, paper-wrapped bundle in his arms.
“Katie.” He put the package carefully on the countertop. “There are three quilts here from my mamm to put up for sale in your shop.”
Relief made her smile warmer than it might otherwise have been. She’d heard nothing more from Naomi and begun to fear that she’d changed her mind.
“Denke, Caleb. That is wonderful gut. I hoped she’d bring some in. I understand from Molly that she is an accomplished quilter.”
One of the best in the valley, Molly had implied, but Amish humility didn’t allow you to claim to be better than your neighbors. You did things to the best of your ability and for the good of the community, as was pleasing to God.
Caleb’s firm expression actually relaxed into a half smile for a moment before it tightened again. Did he regret the absence of a married-man’s beard to help hide his emotions and that appealing cleft in his chin? He certainly didn’t want to show his feelings, at least not to her.
“I think Mamm’s only regret in her children was the lack of daughters,” he said. “She wanted someone to pass her gift to.”
“Your sister-in-law doesn’t quilt, I understand.”
“No, Nancy claims she doesn’t have the patience for it. Becky seems to take an interest, but I’m not sure she has the love for it that Mamm does.” He glanced toward the door into the back room as he spoke.
“Those girls are talking as fast as they work,” Katie said, interpreting his look. “That’s certain-sure. If you need Becky ...”
“No, no, let her stay, as long as she’s being useful and not a hindrance.”
“That she is.” Katie began unwrapping the quilts. “Those two are cleaning out the back room for me at the moment.”
The paper fell away, and Katie’s breath caught. Here was artistry for sure—a Sunshine and Shadows quilt done in such a combination of colors slipping from dark to light that the pattern actually seemed to move when you looked at it. Named for the alternating patterns of sunlight and shadows across the land, the design seemed also to reflect the happy and sad times in life.
“This is lovely. There aren’t many quilters with such an eye for the effects of color.” She smoothed her palm over the quilt and glanced up at him. “Are you all right with my having your mamm’s quilts to sell?”
Caleb looked honestly taken aback. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“When I opened, you didn’t seem exactly happy to have a quilting shop next door to you.”
That might actually be embarrassment in his deep brown eyes as he glanced away from her. “Maybe I thought a quilt shop wasn’t a gut mix with my shop.” He shrugged. “But it’s not so bad.”
She smiled at the grudging admission. “Ach, you were afraid the place would be full of chattering women, ain’t so?”
His gaze met hers again, and his face relaxed into the first real smile she’d seen from him, crinkling his eyes and making him look years younger all at once. Her heart seemed to give a few extra beats. She’d think a smile like that would have women lining up to relieve Caleb of his single state.
“Looks like I didn’t do such a gut job of hiding my feelings.”
“Not very.” She ought to wipe the silly grin from her face, but she couldn’t seem to manage it. “I could use a few chattering women in here. It’s been quieter than I expected.”
“For me, as well.” He leaned against the counter, crossing his arms across his broad chest. “It seems like most folks are a bit more cautious with their money these days, Englisch and Amish.”
She nodded. The Amish tried to live as independently as possible, but everyone was affected by the economy, especially those in business.
“Maybe this wasn’t the best of times for starting a new business,” she admitted. “But the opportunity opened up, and I was ready for a new challenge.”
He was studying her face with an intentness that made her nervous, as if he was trying to see through to her motives. “You like a challenge, do you, Katie?”
“I do.” She lifted her chin. “I’d rather start my own place and fail than spend my life wondering what would have happened if I’d not tried.”
He tilted his head a little, as if weighing her words. “Weren’t you in business with your mamm before?”
“I worked in her shop. But it was hers, not mine.” Could he possibly understand the difference?
He nodded slowly. “Ja. You wanted to see how your ideas would work.”
“Exactly.” She found herself more in charity with Caleb than she had since the day they’d met. “But if I don’t get some more Englisch coming in here, I’m afraid all the ideas in the world won’t help me.”
“Englisch?” He looked startled for a moment, but then he nodded. “Ja, I see. Amish aren’t likely to buy a quilt from a shop.”
“They’re the sellers. Like your mamm.” She lifted the top quilt off, revealing a baby quilt done in the softest of pinks, blues, and yellows. “Ach, this baby quilt would sell for sure, if only we get some tourists coming through this summer.”
She carried the first quilt toward the bed on which she displayed quilts, and was a little surprised when Caleb moved to help her.
“Can’t say I’m eager to see any tourists,” he said, taking one end of the quilt and helping her spread it across the bed. “Peeking into windows and wanting to take your picture.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to point out the money tourists brought to the area, but maybe it would be best to back away from the subject. She didn’t want to destroy this new amity between them by arguing.
Seen spread out to its full width, the Sunshine and Shadows quilt was even more inspiring. “Wonderful,” she breathed. “Did your mamm make this recently?”
“Last year, I think. Mamm hasn’t done any quilting since the fall.”
“No? Winter is usually a fine time for quilting, once the other work is done.”
He hesitated, staring down at the quilt, and she had a sense he was wondering how much to say to her. She studied the strong, averted face with its broad cheekbones and square, hard jaw. A little muscle twitched under the skin near his mouth, a testament to his indecision, and she found she wanted him to speak.
“Daad passed in the fall,” he said finally. “Since then, Mamm has been . . .” He hesitated, plainly searching for the word. “A little lost, and not feeling well herself. She hadn’t taken an interest in much of anything until she heard about your shop.”
“I am sorry for your loss,” Katie said quietly, trying not to imagine what her life would be like without her daad’s steady presence. “You must be worried about your mamm.”
“Ja.” He paused again, still not looking at her. “I like it fine that she’s excited about quilting again. I just don’t want her to try to do too much.”
Was that comment aimed at her? Katie wasn’t sure. “I wouldn’t urge her to overdo,” she said cautiously. “But if she wants to quilt again, that’s a gut thing, for sure.”
She felt an urge to touch him, to reassure him, but she pressed her hands against her sides, remembering all too clearly what had happened the last time they’d touched.
“Ja,” he said finally. “I hope so.” He met her eyes then, his gaze probing and serious. He jerked his head toward the back room at a peal of laughter from the girls. “Your coming here has changed things, Katie Miller. I just hope all the changes are gut ones.”
Caleb took a step away from Katie, wondering at himself. Now, why had he said that? He was trying to stay away from the woman, not confide in her.
And telling her all his concerns about Mamm—well, how ferhoodled could he be? Katie was just a little too easy to talk to, with that quick interest that sprang to
life in her dark blue eyes and the warm sympathy that filled her face.
Maybe having her shop next door to his hadn’t presented some of the problems he’d expected, but it seemed Katie was creating new ones.
Katie cleared her throat, and he had the sense that she was looking for something less personal to talk about.
“Ach, I just remembered a question I wanted to ask you. I was wondering if you have any quilt racks in stock just now. Becky mentioned that you made one for her.”
He nodded. Quilt racks was a safer subject of conversation. “Ja, I have a couple of them.”
“Maybe you’d be interested in putting one of yours in the archway between the shops, and I could display a quilt on it.” The enthusiasm was back in her face again, and when her face lit that way, it was nearly beautiful. “It might draw the customers’ attention to both your wares and mine.”
Maybe she hadn’t believed him when he’d said he didn’t depend on gimmicks to sell his pieces. “I don’t think that I—” He stopped when the bell over her shop door jangled.
“We’ll talk about it later,” she said, all her attention focused on the man who came in. With his plaid shirt and tan pants, a ball cap pushed back on his bald head, he looked like an Englisch tourist ready to buy something.
Caleb knew better. He’d seen this particular Englischer before—Bennett Hargrove, his name was. He owned a couple of shops in bigger towns, and he came through Pleasant Valley a few times a year, looking to buy Amish-made goods to resell.
Katie approached the man, greeting him pleasantly in Englisch, asking if she could help him find something.
Caleb frowned. Seemed like Katie should know she was talking to a dealer, not just a casual shopper.
It wasn’t up to him to interfere. He kept it to himself. It was none of his business.
But he couldn’t quite manage to walk away, either. Hargrove was a shrewd bargainer, always intent on getting Amish-made goods as cheaply as possible. And Katie, for all her talk of the shop she’d helped her mother run, might find herself in difficulty dealing with him.
