by Marta Perry
He took a step back, but before he could turn away, he realized someone was coming down the stairs. In a moment the door swung open.
“Caleb. I thought it was you.” Katie sounded friendly enough. “Komm in.”
“I won’t stay. I just wanted to be sure that Rhoda is all right.”
Katie glanced up the stairs. “She seems to be feeling better now that we’ve talked it over. It’s hard for her to bear the idea of people gossiping about her, and probably exaggerating the story every time they repeat it.” Katie had lowered her voice. She stepped out onto the porch and pulled the door behind her, leaving it ajar.
“I’m sorry.” That wasn’t enough. “I wasn’t the one who—”
Katie touched his arm, silencing him. “I know you well enough to know that, Caleb.”
Her words set up an echo inside him. That was how he felt, as well. How was it that they’d grown to know each other so well in such a short time?
“She told me you were ser kind to her, bringing her home and talking to her,” she said. “Denke.”
“It’s nothing. I would have done much more to keep this from happening.” He shook his head, determined to get the words said, even if they came out wrong. “I know I didn’t like Becky’s friendship with Rhoda at first. But I’ve seen how much it means to Becky.”
“It’s important to Rhoda, as well. She told me how Becky stood up to those other girls for her.”
“She did? I hadn’t heard that part of it.” He felt a smile tug at his lips, despite the situation. “I wish I’d seen our little Becky being that brave.”
“That was the only bright spot for Rhoda, Becky defending her like that.” Katie looked up at him, her face a pale oval in the fading light. “And your kindness.”
He was silent for a moment, but the words pushed at his lips. “I knew how she felt. I know what it is to have people thinking the worst of you, not wanting to listen to your side, even if you could tell them.”
He stopped, aghast at what he’d nearly revealed. He didn’t talk about Mattie. Not to anyone.
“You went through it,” Katie said gravely. “You do understand, don’t you?” She looked at him, and it was as if she could see past the barriers he had put up, past the front he’d built to hide his feelings. “You . . . It wasn’t true, was it? What people said about you?”
His jaw tightened almost to the breaking point. “Mattie and I were sweethearts. She went away. She was pregnant, but she wouldn’t marry me.”
He tried to turn away, but Katie held him there, her hand on his arm. He could have pulled loose, but he didn’t.
“That’s what I was told,” she said slowly. “That’s what people believe. But that’s not all of it, is it?”
“I don’t know what you mean.” He had to armor himself against the caring in her face.
Her breath seemed to catch. “I’ve tried and tried to make sense of it. Out of you being here while your child is out there someplace in the world. But I couldn’t, because it’s not true, is it? The baby was not yours.”
He could only stare at her. How could she know the one thing he’d never said to a living soul except Mattie?
He should deny her words. He should walk away. But he couldn’t. Everything . . . the very air he breathed, pressured him to say the truth, just this once.
“It was not my child.” Pain mingled with relief. “How did you know?”
“Because if it were, you wouldn’t be here.”
So simple. If Mattie had carried his child, he would not be here, whether she’d married him or not.
He blew out a breath that wasn’t quite steady. “Ja.” He shook his head. “You can’t talk about this, not to anyone.”
“But why?” Distress filled her face. “You have a right to be free of the past, don’t you?”
“Not at the cost of hurting someone else.” He nearly choked on the words, but he forced himself to go on. “Mattie made her choice, but her parents still live here. Her brothers and sisters, too. They went through enough grief already. How could I bring it all up again? It would be unkind, and would do no gut, anyway. People will believe what they want.”
“But you . . . You live as if you were guilty. You always seem apart, even when you’re with the rest of the church. That isn’t fair.”
“That’s the way it is.”
“But it doesn’t have to be.” Her grip tightened. “Caleb, you know you didn’t do anything wrong. Even if other people never know it, you don’t have to stand back, looking at life as if you can’t be a part of it.”
He shook his head, suddenly exhausted, as if saying it out loud to her had taken everything out of him. “Maybe you’re right, Katie. But I’ve been living this way for so long that I don’t know any other way.”
He turned away, feeling her hand drop from his arm, and walked to the buggy.
It was nearly one o’clock the next day, and Rhoda still hadn’t come down to the shop. When Katie had rushed upstairs for an early lunch in anticipation of the quilting group’s arrival that afternoon, Rhoda’s bedroom door had been closed.
Katie glanced at the stairs. Should she go and check on her? Or would Rhoda resent being looked in on as if she were a child?
If Mammi were here . . . Katie stopped that line of thought. Mammi was not here. Mammi had shifted responsibility for Rhoda to Katie, and all Katie could do was follow her instincts.
Unfortunately, those instincts didn’t seem to be telling her much, either about Rhoda or about Caleb. Katie’s heart ached for each of them, but she didn’t see what she could do to help.
That lay at the core of her frustration, she knew. She shoved a bolt of fabric into place with a quick movement. She wanted to do something, anything, that would ease their pain.
Caleb was in his shop. She’d felt his firm footsteps vibrating through the floorboards in the stillness. But he hadn’t so much as nodded to her. After letting her see his pain, he’d withdrawn from her, just as he withdrew from life.
Perhaps she’d seen that withdrawal all along, but she hadn’t recognized it until the words had come out of her mouth. Amish were called to live in the world but not be a part of the world. Even if he didn’t intend it, Caleb lived a life in the Amish community but was not part of it. He pulled back from the very people who would help him.
Or would they? Katie’s thoughts worried at the question even as she prepared the back room for the quilters. In the immediate aftermath of Mattie’s leaving, people may well have given him reason to feel he wasn’t welcome. But he was forgiven, even though that forgiveness was mistaken. He could take part in life again, but he’d chosen not to. No one could change his role but Caleb himself.
The sound of light footsteps brought her hurrying to the front room. It was Rhoda carrying a tray with coffee and cups, and Katie’s heart gave a little leap at the sight of her. Rhoda was maybe a bit pale yet, but she was forcing herself to act normally, and Katie was glad.
“Should I bring some cookies down as well?” Rhoda set the coffee tray down on the small table.
She was making an effort to sound as if nothing was wrong, and all Katie could do was the same. “Let’s wait until folks start to arrive, ja? Do you think I have the sewing machines in the best place?” She had set up two treadle machines in the back room for those who wanted to machine piece their quilt tops.
Rhoda moved to the door to look. “Ja, there’s plenty of light from the windows.” She seemed to make an effort to think of something else to say. “Do you think everyone will come back?”
“I hope so.” Katie had already seen an increase in the number of Englisch customers, maybe because of Lisa and Donna talking about the shop.
She hesitated. Should she tell Rhoda she didn’t need to stay downstairs when the quilters began to arrive? Or was it better for her sister to be around other people right now?
Before she could make up her mind, the bell over the front door jingled.
Rachel, Molly, and Myra came inside i
n a chattering group, each of them with a baby. Before Katie could react, Molly was calling to Rhoda.
“Ach, Rhoda, gut. I hoped you would be here. You’re so gut with the kinder . . . can you give us a hand?”
Katie didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Molly, with her usual quickness, had decided that involving Rhoda with the little ones was a cure for a bruised spirit. Well, maybe Molly had it right, because Rhoda’s face lit with a smile when Myra’s little Anna Grace held out chubby hands to her.
“Komm here, you sweet girl.” Rhoda scooped the boppli into her arms, the strain leaving her face. “Give me a kiss.”
Katie felt her own tension melting away at the sight. With the two younger babies asleep, Rhoda could devote herself to Anna Grace and be soothed by the child’s loving spirit. God seemed to give His Down’s syndrome children that extra measure of sweetness, maybe to reward those who cared for them.
Katie hurried forward to greet everyone. “So we will have a houseful of babies today. Rhoda, you’ll have your hands full if they all wake at the same time.”
Rhoda’s smile flashed, and it seemed she’d regained some of her sparkle. “That will be fun.”
Rachel chuckled as she moved little Josiah’s carriage along the aisle. “Fun, ja. Much as I love my four, some days are not so much fun.”
“Ach, you know full well you love every minute of it,” Myra said. “And your Gideon is such a gut daadi.”
“You are fortunate to have him no farther away than the shop most of the time,” Molly declared. She led them into the back room and pushed little Jacob’s buggy into the corner, setting down the basket that held her work. “I thank the gut Lord every day that Jacob doesn’t have to work away any longer, now that he has such a fine job with the construction company in Fisherdale.”
There was a murmur of agreement. Everyone knew it became harder each year for the young men to find work that kept them close to home. Thank goodness Molly’s Jacob worked nearby now.
The bell announced another arrival. Katie turned to see Donna and Lisa coming in, talking together. She breathed a sigh of relief. There had been that bit of antagonism between them over Lisa’s plans to bring more shoppers to Pleasant Valley, and Katie was glad to see it seemed to be forgotten.
“Katie, I was just telling Lisa she ought to do an easier design for her wall hanging,” Donna said. “Help me convince her.”
Donna, it seemed, liked to have a say in what others were doing. This would take careful handling, Katie feared.
“There’s no convincing about it.” Lisa’s tone was a little tart. “I want to do this leaf pattern in fall colors. If I can find the time to work on it, I should have the table runner done by autumn, you see.”
Donna was right, in a way. There were simpler patterns for beginners, like the one-patch she was doing, but the choice was Lisa’s.
“I’ve already mentioned to Lisa that the leaf pattern is a bit complicated.” Katie ushered them toward the back room. “But it is her project, so she must decide.” She nodded toward Donna’s handwork bag, done in a lovely crewel design. “Have you made up your mind on the fabric for your one-patch? That print material you were looking at is so pretty.”
Distracted, Donna began talking about the colors she’d picked. Katie relaxed slightly. Keeping these two happy was going to take an effort.
“We are not late, I hope.” Naomi and Emma came through from Caleb’s shop, with Becky right behind them.
“Not at all. We’re just getting started.” Katie was relieved to see Becky head straight for Rhoda and the babies. In a moment the two girls were spreading a hooked rug on the floor and sitting down with Anna Grace between them.
Katie breathed a silent prayer of thanks. Time with her friend was just what Rhoda needed right now.
With everyone there, work got going quickly. No, not everyone, Katie corrected herself. Melanie hadn’t arrived yet. The young woman had seemed so enthusiastic—surely she hadn’t decided to drop out already.
In a few minutes, Emma had taken over one of the sewing machines. Katie stopped to admire the patches she was chain stitching.
“Sunshine and Shadows,” she said. “That is one of my favorites.”
“I have not made a quilt other than the ones we make for the sales in”—Emma’s foot eased off the treadle—“goodness, I don’t know how long.”
“You were too busy with the midwife practice.” Naomi sat near her friend, working on the patches for her Tumbling Blocks quilt by hand. “It’s nice you have more time now that Sarah is working with you.”
“Ach, I’m not used to having time, and that’s the truth of it,” Emma said. “I like being useful.”
“You are useful,” Naomi said placidly. “Sarah could not do without you in the practice. I’ve heard her say so more than once.”
“Making a quilt is useful, for sure,” Katie added. “Is this one to keep or for a gift?”
“I haven’t decided.” Emma’s brows drew together in her strong face. She looked like a woman who was seldom undecided about anything. Maybe her uncertainty was a result of the mini-stroke that had caused Emma to turn catching babies over to her niece. It must be hard for a woman like Emma to feel she was no longer contributing.
“Sunshine and Shadows,” Naomi said softly. “The patterns of life. I have been in the shadows for a time, Emma, with my life turned upside down. I’m starting to komm into the sunshine. You will, too.”
Katie slipped away, her eyes stinging with tears. It sounded as if Naomi was just what Emma needed now.
She moved to the table to help Lisa cut out the final pieces for her leaf design. “Be sure the edges are exactly even,” she cautioned before Lisa could make a too-hasty snip. “The cutting is the most important part, I think. If the pieces are not true from the beginning, there will be trouble later.”
Lisa flashed her a smile and lined the fabric up more carefully. “I’m always in a hurry, it seems.”
“You are making this for the pleasure it gives you,” Katie said. “There’s no need to hurry.”
Donna chuckled at Lisa’s expression. “The Amish don’t live by the clock, Lisa.”
“Well, why should we? It will all get done.” Katie wasn’t sure whether the woman had meant that in a derogatory way or not, and she cautioned herself not to read meaning into a casual comment. “The old saying is true enough. The hurrier I go, the be-hinder I get.”
A gentle wave of chuckles greeted that, some more rueful than others. Maybe hers was the most rueful of all, Katie realized. How often was she guilty of thinking she had to manage everything—her shop, the sales, Rhoda’s happiness? It was in the gut Lord’s hands, not hers. She must simply do the best she could with what He had given her. She glanced at the pieces for her Lancaster Rose quilt, laid out on the table. What difference did it make whether she worked on it today or tomorrow?
“Is Melanie not coming today?” Myra asked, her tone gentle. “I thought she was enjoying herself last week.”
“I haven’t heard anything from her,” Katie said. She’d thought Melanie had enjoyed herself, too. Maybe she’d been wrong.
“Young people are always busy,” Donna said. “My kids have such hectic lives I don’t hear from them from one week to the next.”
“Your children don’t live here?” Rachel asked.
“Scattered across the country,” Donna replied. “Well, it’s only natural. Their professions take them away. My son is a heart surgeon in Dallas, and my daughter manages a big advertising agency in Chicago.”
“You must be proud of them,” Lisa said, with perhaps a little wistfulness in her tone. Lisa didn’t have children, Katie remembered. And with her husband gone, she seemed very alone. Maybe that was why she threw herself into her business so much.
“Very proud,” Donna said. “Very.”
She seemed to mean that, but Katie couldn’t help but think that, in her own way, Donna was lonely, too.
“I stopped by the hardware sto
re this week,” Donna said abruptly. “It seems like that fiancé of Melanie’s keeps her working pretty hard. We were just passing the time of day when he butted in and gave her something to do. I can’t say I liked that.”
No, Donna wouldn’t. Of course, from what Katie had seen, Melanie and her fiancé ran the hardware store by themselves.
“Maybe something came up that Melanie couldn’t leave work this afternoon,” she said.
“Mike, most likely,” Donna muttered.
Katie turned that over in her mind. Surely the man . . . Mike, his name was . . . didn’t object to Melanie’s joining their group. Maybe he’d felt that Donna was wasting Melanie’s time with her talking.
If so, he needed to understand a bit more about running a store in a small place like Pleasant Valley. Chatting with customers was never a waste of time. Even if they didn’t buy anything today, they might well be back to buy tomorrow.
Melanie herself put an end to the speculation by rushing in, carrying her wall hanging materials in a shopping bag with the name of a department store emblazoned on it.
“Sorry I’m so late, everyone.” She was breathless, her face flushed with embarrassment. “We got busy in the store.”
Katie ignored a snort from Donna. “We understand. It’s not a problem at all. Show me how you’re coming with the wall hanging.” Melanie had decided on a Crazy Quilt pattern, saying maybe her mistakes wouldn’t show so much then.
“I haven’t had much time to work on it this week,” Melanie said, hurriedly getting out her supplies. “We’ve been so busy.”
“Your store must be doing better than anyone’s then,” Lisa said. “I don’t mind admitting trade’s been pretty quiet for me this week.”
“Oh, well.” Melanie’s flush deepened. “Everybody needs things from the hardware store, I guess.”
“Komm, I’ll help you,” Katie said, intervening. “We’ll figure out the matching, and then it will be easier to work on.”
Beginners sometimes thought they understood, only to find themselves at a loss when they tried to follow the instructions on their own. Perhaps Melanie just didn’t want to admit that.
