by Laura Hilton
“Commendable. I’ll give you a ride home when you finish, then.”
Shanna kept her back to him. “Danki.” She heard him walk toward the barn. Ride home with Amos Kropf? Suddenly, she wanted to run away. Maybe back to Matthew and the frolic. She gritted her teeth. She would stay here until the work was done.
When all of the clothes had been folded, she carried the basket inside, then cleared up the supper dishes, making sure the kitchen would be clean for the next day. Would Amos do the grocery shopping? Or did he expect her to, as the maud? She’d have to ask.
She felt a tug on her dress. “Read me a story?” It was the littlest bu. He handed her a worn copy of a book. Overdue to the library, according to the date on the white slip.
She pulled out a kitchen chair, checked the area for spiders, and then sat, cuddling the bu in her lap. “What’s your name?”
“Daed calls me the wee one, but my teacher calls me Samuel.”
Shanna smiled. “Samuel it is.” She opened the book. “Once upon a time….”
It was well past dark when Amos finally stopped the buggy at the end of Daed’s drive, a courting tradition Shanna was glad he’d chosen to observe, because Matthew wouldn’t see who had brought her home. If he was still awake. He’d probably gone to bed hours ago. She glanced at the house and didn’t see any lamps glowing. She’d planned to sit with the family for devotions tonight, as she had when she’d still been at home, but that hadn’t happened. Instead, she’d had devotions with the Kropfs and waited while most of the buwe had been tucked in before Amos had hitched up the buggy to take her home.
He came around to her side and helped her out, his thumb grazing the top of her hand as he did. She resisted the urge to yank her arm away. “Danki, Shanna. Appreciate your help. You’ll be a gut fr—maud.”
Had he started to say “frau”? As in, his frau? Shanna shuddered. Frau. Right. She then remembered what she’d wanted to ask him. “You’re out of groceries. Were you going to do the shopping, or would you like me to?”
He hesitated a second. “I hired Janna Kauffman to do all the shopping. She is an Amish woman for hire for the infirm and widowers in the community. Lives down the road, and,” he chuckled, “loves to shop. Her buggy is always loaded full. She should be by the haus tomorrow with my order.”
Shanna stepped away. “Do you want me to kum back tomorrow? I have to work second shift at the restaurant, but I could kum to your haus afterward.” On second thought, she’d promised Matthew she’d go fishing with him and his friends.
Amos eyed her clothes. “I thought you’d returned.”
She raised her eyebrows but didn’t respond.
Finally, he shook his head. “Monday will be gut. Whenever you have the time.”
Shanna nodded, turned, and hurried through the darkness down the drive toward the barn.
When she slipped inside, a form moved out of the shadows near her apartment door. She froze.
Her heartbeat escalated when she saw that the door to her apartment loft was open.
A scream started to materialize, but a hand slid over her mouth, muffling the sound.
Chapter 18
Matthew tightened his grip on Shanna’s mouth. He didn’t want her to scream. It would scare the livestock and possibly wake the other members of the family, if they were even asleep. They’d been pretty concerned when they’d found out that Shanna had gone missing during the frolic. Deborah had made a brief reference to the time she’d run away, and she’d looked extremely worried, but Levi had assured her that Shanna was probably fine.
Now, Shanna twisted violently in his arms. She hit him hard in the stomach with something—maybe her elbow—and stomped down on his bare toes with a tennis-shoe-clad foot. When her palm slammed into his nose, mercifully not head-on, Matthew clamped his lips together to keep from howling in pain. He released her quickly, his hands flying to his nose to stanch the inevitable flow of blood. “What was that for, Shanna?” Pressing his nostrils shut with one hand, he reached with the other inside his pocket and whipped out his handkerchief.
“Matthew?”
“Who’d you think I was?” He brought the handkerchief to his nose, hoping she’d heard the peevishness in his voice.
“What are you doing skulking around out here in the dark? You could have gotten hurt.”
Could have? He supposed a blow to the stomach and a bloody nose didn’t count. He pressed the handkerchief more firmly against his nostrils. Thankfully, the bleeding was not excessive. Good thing her aim had been slightly off. Though he might end up with a black eye or a bruised cheek. “I was worried when you disappeared. Your family was concerned, too.”
“I needed space to think.” He sensed rather than saw her shrug.
“Jah, but it’s still not safe for a woman to roam around alone after dark. Even if you do seem more than capable of protecting yourself.” He certainly hadn’t been prepared for her counterattack.
“I took a series of self-defense classes when I moved away. Bad part of town, you know.” She fell silent, and he heard her hand patting the wall. A moment later, she flicked the lights on. Matthew shut his eyes to block out the sudden brightness.
“Why was my apartment door open, anyway?” Shanna frowned at him, then glanced up the stairs. “Joseph?”
“You’re blinding me.” Her brother had his hands over his eyes. “We were checking to see if you’d snuck in. When you started beating Matthew, I decided to stay up here.”
“Wimp. He’s lucky I didn’t SING.”
Matthew frowned. “Sing? Why would you sing?”
Joseph frowned. “Right. Your singing is pretty awful.” He scooted past them. “I’d best be getting back to the haus. Gut nacht.”
“SING: stomach, instep, nose, groin—”
“I get the picture.” Matthew winced. “You need more practice. Your aim was off on two out of the three. But don’t practice on me anymore, okay? Gut nacht.”
Shanna laughed. “Gut nacht.” She touched his hand. “Danki for being concerned about me. You’re so sweet.”
That wasn’t the sort of statement he’d been fishing for. He shook his head. “Glad you’re back. Did you have a gut walk?”
She sighed. “Nein. I went across the fields, and I didn’t know where I was. Then, I saw Amos Kropf’s haus across the way, and the laundry was still on the line, flapping in the breeze. So, I went over there to fold the clothes and clean the supper dishes, and—”
“Shanna.” It wasn’t his place to tell her to stay away from Amos Kropf. He needed to choose his words carefully. “You aren’t his maud.”
“I am, just until I’ve worked enough to pay off the damage I did to his buggy. Then, I’ll owe you for paying the driver who came to haul him and his horse and buggy back home. How much did that cost, anyway?”
Matthew shook his head. “Never mind. Doesn’t matter.”
“But it does. I want to pay my debts. Before the summer’s over, so I can leave with a clear conscience.”
The pain in his heart stung worse than his nose. “Jah, I can see why that’s important.” He paused. “But I still wish you’d stay.”
She leaned against the open door. “Speaking of which, I owe you an apology. I like you, Matthew. Maybe too much. That scares me. I don’t know whether to run away or to stay and see where this goes. And that makes me uncomfortable, because I walked out of the Amish lifestyle, and I was ready to throw it away forever.” She waved a hand at the surroundings. “I embraced the Englisch life. So, it’s difficult for me to imagine giving up my dreams for something I hated.”
“Hated?” He tried to keep his voice sounding noncommittal, to disguise the pain her word caused him.
“Okay, maybe ‘hated’ is a bit strong. But….” She hesitated and licked her lips, drawing his attention to them. He forced his gaze away. “I guess it isn’t as bad as I remembered. I’ve actually enjoyed being home, helping Mamm in the kitchen and the garden, even doing the laundry. Not to mention, rid
ing in buggies again is…kind of romantic, with the right person.” She grinned, but her smile quickly faded. “Still, I’m not sure.”
Matthew raised his eyebrows. “I guess my job is clear, then: convince you that I’m worth returning for.” He fought the hopeful sensation that swelled within him. No point in getting his heart trampled on if he scared her off again.
Shanna looked thoughtful for a moment. “It’s the rules, I think. I don’t want to be forced to obey the Ordnung, and some of those rules vary, depending on the local bishop. I mean, in one district, you’re allowed only a woodstove and a water pump in the haus. The women have to heat water to do dishes. Can you imagine how hot those kitchens would get in the summer? Intolerable. Plus, whenever you wanted to take a bath, you’d have to heat the water and fill a metal tub. And what if we get a new bishop who wants to change things?” She shook her head. “And being told I have to fix my hair a certain way, only to wear it covered under my kapp? One district requires the women to twist their hair over their ears. It’s like everyone has to wear a uniform, to be cookie-cutter copies of each other. Maybe that’s what I hate the most.”
“Those rules serve a purpose, though,” Matthew reminded her. “If you wore fancier clothes or fixed your hair in a showy manner, you might be tempted by pride. But I do agree that some bishops are more progressive than others. Back in Pennsylvania, I was allowed to ride a bike or use a scooter to get around. Here, it’s against the Ordnung.” He did miss his bike.
“Exactly.”
A smile tickled the corners of his mouth. “Well then, Shanna Stoltzfus, I’m going to take myself off to bed. You still want to go fishing tomorrow?”
“Jah, I might like to.”
Matthew chuckled. “Then, I might take you.” He reached up and trailed a fingertip along her soft cheek. Somehow, he resisted the urge to kiss it. “Gut nacht, Shanna.”
***
The next morning, Shanna put in four hours of work at McDonald’s. When she came home, several cars were parked in front of the house, and a sign hung on the front door that read, in Mamm’s handwriting, “Kum in.” Shanna hurried toward the barn to get out of her work uniform and shower before anyone saw her. A coworker had dumped a container of hot grease into the sink, and she’d been within splattering distance. Her arms were speckled with minute yet painful burn marks.
When she was clean and dressed in an Amish dress, she exited the bathroom and heard noises coming from the barn below. She peeked out the loft door, looking for Matthew, but found only Judah, cleaning out one of the horse stalls.
The shop would be closed unless Daed had a special order come in, so she headed to the house. Four or five Englisch couples stood in front of the kitchen table, which Mamm had shoved against the wall and filled with a display of jams, jellies, breads, pies, and cookies. Daed leaned against the hutch, silently looking on, while Mamm sat at the head of the table with her money box and answered the occasional question from one of the Englischers.
Desperate to escape the customers’ prying eyes, Shanna scooted around the corner into the living room. Funny how different it felt to be scrutinized in one’s own home versus in town. Matthew sat in a straight-back chair, a fishing pole in his hand and a reel of line beside him.
He looked up with a smile. “Hey, Shanna. I’m getting this rod ready for you.”
Shanna frowned. She’d never been fishing before; Daed had taken only her brothers. She didn’t have the slightest idea how to handle a reel. But fishing was something Matthew obviously enjoyed. He’d probably show her what to do. “Danki.”
“Your mamm already said we’ll plan on fish for supper.”
“That assumes we’ll actually catch some.”
“We will. Your daed keeps the pond well stocked.”
He sounded confident. She wasn’t so sure.
“I’ve never been fishing before, you know.”
Matthew shrugged. “It’s not that hard. I’ll teach you.” He glanced at the battery-operated clock on the end table. “I’ll be finished soon, and then we can go.”
“Okay. Just let me know.” Shanna wandered over to the end table and picked up a library book that someone in the family must have been reading. She turned it over and read the back cover. An Amish mystery. Sounded interesting. She sat down in the chair next to Matthew and opened the book to the first page.
She’d read barely five pages when Matthew stood. “Are you ready? We’ll walk down.”
The pond wasn’t all that far from the house, but Shanna had envisioned another romantic buggy ride with Matthew. In reality, though, walking made the most sense. In the time it would take to hitch Cocoa to the buggy, they’d be there, or almost there, depending on their pace.
Shanna glanced at the top of the page to memorize the number, then set the book back where she’d found it. After slipping into her flip-flops, she followed Matthew through the kitchen, thankfully free of Englischers at the moment.
“Ach, wait. Do I need to pack us a picnic lunch?” Shanna hesitated, eyeing a plate of chocolate chip cookies that hadn’t been bought yet. Matthew’s favorite.
“Nein. We’ll be back for supper. Besides, I’m sure Becky will bring something. She usually does.”
A surge of jealousy raged through Shanna. Matthew would rather eat Becky’s cooking? But he hadn’t said that, exactly; only that she usually brought something.
“A couple of Cokes, then?” Shanna headed for the refrigerator.
Matthew didn’t respond, so Shanna spun around and said, “Let me guess. Becky brings that, too?”
He smiled. “Jah. Or, if Jacob takes her to McDonald’s, she brings cappuccinos. But they’re usually cold by the time she delivers them to us at the pond.”
Shanna wrinkled her nose and turned to Mamm, who counted out the money she’d made so far. “Bye, Mamm. Matthew says we’re bringing supper home.”
Mamm looked up with a smile. “Have fun. I already planned on coleslaw and hush puppies to go with the fish. Just as long as he cleans them first.”
“Shanna will have to clean her own.” Matthew winked at her, then opened the door just in time for Shanna to see a minivan pull to a stop outside. He headed for the far end of the porch and vaulted off, leaving her to walk down the steps and past the vehicle full of staring Englischers. She shuddered.
“Clean my own?” she called after him. “Wait just a second there, Matthew Yoder.” She hurried after him to the barn. “Didn’t I tell you that I don’t know anything about fishing?”
He grabbed his pole, which had been leaning against the wall, and picked up his tackle box. A grin split his face. “Just teasing. I might clean your catch.” He brushed past her. “If you ask nice enough.”
“Ach, so you won’t do it for me simply because I’m a girl? I have to ask ‘nice enough’?”
“My sisters could always fillet fish with the best of them.”
“Ach. Well, I’m not your sister.”
Matthew turned and studied her. His slow perusal made her blood heat. “Jah. I’m aware of that.”
His dimples flashed, which caused her to shiver.
Then, he spun around and set off in the direction of the pond.
She followed, daydreaming of kisses—lots of kisses—once they were out of view of the house.
Yet, after they’d rounded the corner of the barn and reached the top of the hill that led down to the pond, she saw Jacob’s buggy, already waiting down by the water, with the horse tethered and left to graze. So much for enjoying a moment of privacy. She assumed that Becky had spread a blanket under a grove of trees and placed the picnic basket on top of it, though she wouldn’t have packed a whole meal.
Sure enough, as they got closer to the pond, her prediction held true. Becky was seated on a blanket, reading a book. Jacob already had his line in the water.
As they came closer, Becky looked up and straightened her posture. “Hullo, Matthew. Hi, Shanna. Annie is here, too. She went into the woods to see if she could find
any wild strawberries.”
“Strawberry jam sounds gut.” Shanna dropped down beside her.
Matthew stood there for a moment, holding the two rods and his fishing equipment, and frowned. “You’re going to fish, ain’t so?”
***
Shanna leaned forward and whispered something to Becky, and then they both laughed. She smiled up at him. “If I don’t catch any fish, I won’t have to clean any.”
“There is that.” He stared down at her. “But you’ll miss all the fun.”
His stomach rumbled, and he glanced at the picnic basket. Was it too early for a snack? From past experience, Matthew knew Becky had probably packed fresh fruit, some individual fruit pies, and maybe some cookies, plus a big thermos of something to drink, along with cups, or soda cans. Unless she’d brought coffee. He looked around but didn’t see any of the brown cups from McDonald’s. He breathed a sigh of relief. The fancy cappuccinos were much too sweet, and Becky never seemed to remember to get him a plain old coffee.
