by Marta Perry
Whether Katie believed it or not, he still bore the taint of what had happened. He couldn’t expect someone else to join him under his cloud, could he?
He sensed Katie drawing back even before she pulled her hand free.
“I’m sure you’re right.” Katie’s voice was brittle, and he felt as if he had failed a test. “I’ll try not to be so foolish. You just caught me in a weak moment.”
“Not you.” He tried to smile, tried to regain the easy, teasing spirit between them, and knew he couldn’t.
“What is this?” She nodded toward the envelopes he’d dropped on the table.
“Sorry, I’m forgetting. The mail. Rhoda asked me to bring it out.”
Katie picked up the envelopes, maybe glad of something to distract her from Caleb. She leafed through them quickly and then stopped, staring. She put the others down, caressing one envelope.
“What is it?” He couldn’t help asking the question, even though it was none of his business.
“I had sent a note to my friend Jessica,” she said, her voice slowing. “I thought it was time—past time—that I showed her I am over what happened between us. Here is her answer.”
“Aren’t you going to open it?” Or maybe she was waiting to be alone. “I should leave anyway—”
“No, stay,” she said quickly. She looked a little embarrassed. “I wouldn’t mind having some moral support right now.”
“Courage,” he said, gripping her shoulder briefly. “It will be all right. Like Rhoda and Becky.”
Katie smiled a little at the reminder. She ripped open the envelope. Its contents dropped onto the table, and she stared. He did, as well. The woman had sent Katie’s note back, unopened.
“I’m sorry,” he began, taking a step closer, longing to comfort her and not knowing how. “She didn’t mean it. I’m sure she regrets it already.”
“I don’t think so.” Katie picked up the envelope, her fingers shaking a little. “She doesn’t forgive me. I left it too late, and now Jessica can’t forgive me.”
“Katie—” His heart overflowed with pity and concern for her. “You can’t . . .”
She shook her head, holding up her hand as if to silence him. “Don’t, Caleb.”
She rose, seeming a little unsteady for a moment. Then she turned and fled inside, leaving her lunch lying on the table. And leaving him with nothing to do about the pain he felt in his heart.
Katie had put the envelope out of sight in a drawer, but she couldn’t put it out of her mind. Forgiveness. The word kept echoing in her heart as she replayed everything she’d heard Bishop Mose say about it.
She’d recognized that she was doing wrong. She’d tried to change. But Jessica had thrown her effort right back in her face. Katie felt as if she’d been slapped.
She automatically set up the room for the quilting group. She knew the church’s teaching on forgiveness was right. But what did you do when your forgiveness wasn’t accepted?
It was a relief when the quilters began to arrive. She couldn’t think of herself when she was busy with them.
In just a few meetings, they’d settled into a routine—some working on the machines while others pinned and cut, stopping to help each other almost before she noticed that help was needed.
Donna came in right on time, but with a discontented expression on her face. She held up her forefinger, looking at Katie accusingly. “I have paint on my hand from your new window frames.”
“I’m so sorry.” Katie hurried to get her paper towels. “I’m sure it will wipe right off. If not, I’ll get some paint thinner.” But she couldn’t help reflecting that it looked as if Donna had touched the paint to see if it was dry.
“That’s funny,” Lisa said innocently, glancing up from her work. “I was sure there was a Wet Paint sign out there.”
For a moment the two adversaries glared at each other. Katie held her breath. How could this group become what she wanted if these two were always fratching?
Suddenly Donna threw back her head with a hearty laugh. “All right, you got me,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m the person who can never resist testing a Wet Paint sign for myself.”
The others chuckled, perhaps with relief.
“Ach, I do that as well,” Emma admitted. “Some of us are just made that way.”
Donna had barely settled to her work when Melanie came rushing in, a bit late as always. Surely the hardware store couldn’t always become busy just when she had to leave, could it?
“I’m sorry,” Melanie said, her cheeks bright pink. “Don’t let me interrupt you.”
“It’s fine,” Molly assured her. “We are just getting started. You are all flushed, Melanie. Are you all right?”
“I’m . . . I’m fine,” she said, her color deepening still more. “I didn’t want to be late so I ran, that’s all.”
Wanting to draw attention away from Melanie, Katie began demonstrating the technique of chain sewing, a shortcut most experienced quilters used when working on the machine. She’d taken to demonstrating a different technique each week, hoping that would keep things interesting, even though it was old stuff for the experienced quilters.
Soon everyone was deep into her work and just as deep into conversation. Katie loved hearing that—it was the sound of a quilting circle that was melding the women so that they were becoming friends even as they worked.
And then she realized that Donna’s voice had risen. “I’m sure you mean well,” she said to Lisa, “but the last thing we need in Pleasant Valley is a lot of outsiders. Tourists. We live here because we like it the way it is. Of course, you are a relative newcomer.”
And what did that make her? Katie wondered. Lisa had been here for several years.
“That’s rather shortsighted,” Lisa said tartly. “There are plenty of people in town who are struggling to keep their businesses open. If they all have to close down for lack of business, what will Pleasant Valley be like then?”
Donna flushed dangerously. “I know a little more about this community than you do. Things will even out. They always do. In the meantime—”
“In the meantime, people are hurting,” Lisa snapped.
Katie had to intervene before the argument escalated, but how? Before she could think of an answer, Melanie did it for her. Across the combatants’ voices, she spoke to Molly.
“I love that pattern you’re doing, Molly. What is it?” Molly jumped in right away, holding up her work almost in Donna’s face. “This is a Log Cabin, an old, old design. There are as many variations of it as there are quilters, ain’t so, Naomi?”
“Ach, ja,” Naomi said. “It means something different to everyone, I think. That’s the way it is with the old patterns.”
Melanie looked intrigued. “How can a quilt pattern mean something different?”
Molly smiled, touching her fabric. “I picked this pattern because my husband had to work away for so long. Now that he is settled in a gut job here, this quilt will remind me how happy I am that we have a home.”
“Ja,” Naomi said softly. “It was hard on you, on any married couple, to be separated that way. It’s not how things are meant to be.”
Melanie leaned forward, her expression serious. “You Amish get married awfully young, don’t you?”
“Not always,” Molly said. “But often we are ready by the time we’re twenty or twenty-one.”
“That means you’re going to be together for a long time. I mean, I know you don’t believe in divorce.”
“Marriage is forever,” Emma said. “When you have troubles, you just have to work them out.” Her eyes twinkled. “My husband was the most stubborn man in the world, and there were times I didn’t speak to him for days. But we always made up.”
“He was stubborn?” Naomi looked fondly at her friend. “You are every bit as stubborn as he was, that’s certain-sure.”
“Well, maybe so. He put up with a lot, all those years I was catching babies.” Emma seemed to glance into the past and
smile at what she saw there.
“You must know your heart,” Naomi added. “That’s what I told my children. Know this is the person for you, because you are married forever.”
“Ja,” Myra said softly. “You want to marry someone who is a gut friend, like my Joseph. That’s important.”
Melanie stared at her, a mix of emotions on her face. Katie realized that the Crazy Quilt pattern was crumpled in her hands.
“Melanie? Is something wrong?”
Melanie wiped tears from her cheeks. She smoothed out the fabric. “I just . . . Maybe I have prewedding jitters.” Her smile was a little wobbly. “Everybody says that’s natural.”
To Katie’s surprise, it was Donna who came and put her arm around Melanie’s shoulders. “I’m sure it is. But if you have doubts, there’s nothing wrong with waiting.”
“That’s right.” Lisa put her hand over Melanie’s. “There’s no need to rush into anything.”
“I shouldn’t have said that.” Melanie seemed to realize just how much she’d confided in them. Her cheeks flushed. “Really, everything is okay. Please, forget what I said.”
She looked so distressed that Katie hurried to reassure her. “We won’t say anything. It’s all right.”
Murmurs of agreement came from the others.
“Lots of secrets are shared at a quilting frolic,” Naomi said, her voice gentle. “That’s as it should be. When we work together, we share our thoughts, but everyone in the group will keep them private.”
Melanie’s smile trembled just a little. “Good. Because really, everything’s fine.”
Was it? Katie hoped so. Despite her hopes for the group, she hadn’t anticipated that the quilting circle would lead to that sort of sharing, especially from an Englisch person.
But Naomi was right . . . women became close over a quilt, and maybe it didn’t matter whether they were Englisch or Amish.
Everyone on Pleasant Valley’s main street was busy, it seemed to Katie, getting ready for Pennsylvania Dutch Days. The volunteer fire company even had its ladder truck out, hanging a banner welcoming visitors. Lisa had procured the banner, Katie wasn’t sure how, but it certainly did seem to make the project official.
Across the street and down a bit, Katie could see Melanie setting up tables in front of the hardware store. She watched the girl for a moment. Her bright green shirt and blue jeans were her usual cheerful attire, but she hadn’t been so cheerful yesterday.
Katie’s broom paused as she thought of that conversation. Melanie had brought up the subject of marriage a couple of times, almost as if she needed to talk about it. Was Melanie’s upset just prewedding jitters? That could happen to any bride, surely, no matter how happy she was.
Or was Melanie’s emotional display a sign of something more serious? Judging by Lisa’s and Donna’s reactions, they thought it possible.
Well, she couldn’t offer any advice. She certain-sure wasn’t an expert on the subject of engagements.
Melanie turned, saw her, and waved, smiling. Katie waved back, relieved at the smile. Whatever had caused Melanie’s mood yesterday seemed to have cleared up today.
One less thing to worry about. As for Caleb’s drawing away each time she got too close and Jessica’s rejection of her peace offering . . . well, she could do nothing about either of those, it seemed, no matter how much they hurt her heart.
She finished sweeping the sidewalk where she intended to place folding tables and paused again, looking down the street with a smile. Even those who had doubts about the success of the project were making an effort. As for those who were outright opposed . . . well, here came Donna now, probably intending to give her another lecture on the subject.
“Looks as if you’re getting ready, Katie. Like everyone else in town.” Donna glanced down Main Street with an expression of distaste.
Katie’s heart sank. “Ja, I’m doing what can be done today.” She tried to sound positive. “Much of getting ready will have to wait for morning.”
Donna nodded. Frowning a little, she looked at the folding tables that leaned against the building. “I just wanted to tell you something about tomorrow.”
Here it comes. Katie braced herself.
“If we do get a crowd of people tomorrow, or more likely on Saturday, I’ll be around most of the time. If you get rushed, you may need an extra person here to help.”
Katie was so surprised that it was a moment before she could speak. “Denke, Donna. That is ser kind of you.”
Donna waved that away. “I wouldn’t want to see anyone ripping you off when you were busy. You know, taking something without paying while you were tending to another customer. That’s the danger of an open-air sale like this.”
“I don’t . . .” Katie paused. There was no point in getting into an argument about people coming to the sale to steal. It did happen. Or cheat, like the woman who’d cheated Rhoda. Still, Katie didn’t ever want to reach the point where she’d expect that sort of behavior. “I don’t know how to thank you,” she said. “Your help would be very wilkom.”
Donna gave a short nod. “Least I can do,” she said gruffly, and walked off.
“What did she want?” Lisa, who seemed to be here, there, and everywhere today, came up to Katie as soon as Donna had gotten a little distance down the street. “To give you another forecast of doom and gloom?”
“She came to offer her help, anticipating that there might be vandals around. I’m ashamed to say that I feared another lecture, too.”
Lisa looked suitably surprised. “I guess we both shouldn’t jump to conclusions about Donna. I suspect you’ve had a good effect on her. And on me.”
Katie shook her head, disclaiming any influence. “I know that people do bad things. But how sad it must be to always expect the worst of others.”
“You have a point there. It’s no way to live.” Lisa smiled, gaze straying to the clipboard she carried. “I just stopped to see if you need anything for tomorrow.”
“We are fine, I think. Rhoda is inside organizing the things we’ll put out in the morning. Otherwise, we’re all set.”
“Good, good.” Lisa checked something off the list she carried. “I’d better keep on going if I’m going to finish on time. I’ll see you later.”
Katie nodded, watching Lisa stride off briskly. The woman certainly seemed to thrive on busyness. Was she, maybe, trying to fill the hole left in her life after her husband’s death?
Carrying the broom, Katie went inside, to be pounced on by both the girls. “Komm, schnell.” Rhoda tugged her hand. “We want to show you what we’ve done.”
“Ja, komm,” Becky echoed, her eyes dancing.
“Are you sure I want to see?” Katie said, teasing. “What are you up to?”
“Look.” Rhoda propelled her to the archway between the shops.
The entire area was filled with quilt racks, maybe a dozen of them, their wood polished to a gleam, all hung with table runners and baby quilts.
“Isn’t it great?” Becky was practically bouncing with excitement. “I brought down all the quilt racks that Cousin William has finished and polished them.”
“And once they were dry, we sorted out the quilted items to hang on them,” Rhoda said. “And everything is clearly marked, so there won’t be any mistakes,” she added. “So, do you like it?”
“I love it,” Katie said. “But maybe Caleb doesn’t want—”
“What doesn’t Caleb want?” Caleb asked, surfacing from behind the back counter.
Katie’s breath caught, and she felt her heart beating somewhere in her throat at the sight of him. “I just ... I just wanted to be sure you approved of this.”
“Ja, Becky and Rhoda asked me before they did anything. They wanted it to be a surprise for you.”
“It’s a wonderful-gut surprise,” Katie said warmly, smiling at the girls. “Denke. We’ll put them out first thing in the morning, and I’m sure they’ll attract buyers.”
“That’s what we thought,
” Becky said. She glanced out the window and squealed. “Rhoda, look, there’s Rachel, and she’s brought the baby. And Myra, with little Anna Grace. Let’s go help them.”
The two of them rushed outside, and Katie waved through the window at Rachel and Myra. Surrendering babies to the two girls, they set about unloading tables off the wagon.
“I should go and help them.” But Katie didn’t move. Somehow she couldn’t, not when Caleb was standing so close, looking at her with such affection in his eyes.
“It seems they’ve brought their husbands to help.” Caleb’s hand closed around her wrist. “You can spare a little time for yourself, you know. You’ve been rushing around for days, getting ready for the sale. Have you taken care of everything you need?”
She gave a breathless chuckle. “Seems like those two girls have done that. I do have to get a few more small items down. They’re gut to draw people in and get them looking at the more expensive quilts.”
“Ja, teacher, I remember that from your lecture. We are doing a display of bookends and such-like outside just for that reason.” Caleb seemed so relaxed today, smiling down at her, that she couldn’t help but smile back.
Once again her breath caught. Once again their gazes met. But this time Caleb didn’t flee. This time he looked deep into her eyes. And then he bent and kissed her, heedless of anyone who might be looking in the shop window.
And she was even more shameless, because her arms went around him as if it were the most natural thing ever, and the world slipped away until she didn’t care if all of Pleasant Valley stood outside the window looking at them.
Finally Caleb drew back. To her dismay, she saw the caring in his gaze replaced with that familiar denial.
“I shouldn’t. I’m sorry.” He turned away.
“No,” she said, before she lost her courage. She caught him by the arms so firmly that he couldn’t pull away without hurting her, and she knew he wouldn’t do that. “Stop, Caleb. This is ridiculous. We are both of age, and if we want to kiss . . .” She knew she was blushing, and she didn’t care. “. . . well, then, it’s nobody’s business but ours.”
