Reuben didn’t know what to say. Surely Esther and Sadie would have to have a talk about it sometime. “Okay,” was all he could muster.
“I’m still burning my blanket,” Esther said, giving Reuben what must have been the stink eye. He couldn’t be sure. He couldn’t see much of the rest of her face. She slammed the door, and even though it had been open only three inches, the force rattled the front window. The forsythia bushes trembled with fear.
Reuben let out the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, and Fern sighed and grinned at him as if they’d just been to the amusement park and ridden the roller coaster. “At least one of us is enjoying herself,” he said.
Her giggle sounded as if it had been waiting a long time to escape. “You’re so cute.”
Reuben groaned. “No boy wants to be told he’s cute.”
“It’s just that you’re so sincere and so kind, and these girls can’t help but like you. It’s going to be like taking candy from a baby.”
“It hasn’t felt that way so far.”
As they strolled along, she reached up and laid a hand on his shoulder. It was a sisterly gesture, and Reuben liked how comfortable he felt next to her. “You’re doing even better than I could have hoped.”
“Meaning you thought I would really mess it up?”
Laughter always seemed to trip so easily out of her mouth. “Nae, but I was afraid I might have to smooth things over more. You really are a wonder, Reuben Helmuth.”
He didn’t know why, but her praise made him feel better somehow, as if her approval was the only thing that mattered. “Don’t tell me that. You’ll tempt me to pride.”
“You’re already proud. A word or two from me isn’t going to make much difference.”
It made more difference than she realized. Reuben had just realized it himself.
In the fading light, they ambled through a grove of aspens, with their stark white bark and fuzzy spring buds. Reuben smiled. “Do you remember that time when you, Katie, and Lavina hiked too far into the woods and carved your initials into that big aspen tree?”
Fern turned her face from him, but he could see the hint of a blush on her cheeks. “Mamm thought we were lost and sent you and John to find us. I got in big trouble for hurting the tree and using Mamm’s gute paring knife.”
“You carved F and H.” Reuben chuckled. “Me and John never did figure out who H was.”
Fern’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “John was sure it was Henry Beiler.”
“Was it?”
“Henry Beiler used to chase me at recess and try to kiss me. I kicked him in the shins once. It wasn’t Henry.”
“Then who?”
She fingered her kapp strings. “I’ll never tell.”
Reuben grabbed her hand and pulled her to a stop. “Is it someone you still like, maybe?”
She slipped her hand from his grasp, turned, and kept walking. “Maybe.”
Reuben wasn’t ready for the pang of annoyance that poked at his gut. It shouldn’t surprise him that Fern had a boy waiting for her at home—she probably had eight or nine boys waiting for her—but he knew without even having to know who they were that none of them were good enough for Fern. She might have been a poor pig farmer’s daughter, but she was pretty and fun and aggravatingly, adorably cheerful. Reuben made a mental list of all the boys in Sugarcreek. None of them measured up.
“Don’t settle for just anybody,” he said, trying to keep his tone light, even though it was Fern’s future they were talking about. She shouldn’t throw it away on someone unworthy of her.
With half-lidded eyes, she seemed to skip over the ground, moving farther and farther away as he tried to keep up. “Ach, you don’t have to worry. H is very nice.”
Reuben caught up and loomed over her like a storm cloud. “Is he?”
“Oh, jah,” she said lightly, as if she didn’t even care that H might be her future husband. “He’s in wonderful-gute shape. He rides his bike to the RV factory every day, where he works scraping glue off toilet seats. He comes home and clips his nose hairs every night but never combs his hair because it’s just too long and gets tangled in his fingers.”
Reuben drew his brows together until they were nearly touching. He never heard of an Amish boy with long hair.
She tripped lightly over the damp ground, and the lovesick lilt in her voice was unmistakable. “He’s very handsome, even with the wart, and he doesn’t smell as bad as some of the boys in the gmayna.” She raised her eyebrows as if she were teasing him. “He had my name tattooed on his arm. It’s next to the tattoo of the spider crawling out of a skull. Isn’t that romantic?”
Reuben’s mouth fell open. There were no words. For sure and certain he’d talk her out of that boy right quick. “Just a minute, Fern. No almost-little-sister of mine is going to get mixed up with a stinky tattooed boy.”
She looked at him in wide-eyed innocence, batted her eyelashes, and started to giggle. Ach, du lieva. He didn’t know whether to growl or shout for joy. She was teasing.
He folded his arms and gazed at her in mock indignation. “You had me all worked up for nothing.”
“I’m glad to know that you still like me enough to get worked up about something.”
“I like you fine, but sometimes, I can’t stand you.”
Fern smiled like she always did when he said something like that. Nope. He couldn’t ruffle that girl’s feathers. “I think you were a little jealous until I mentioned H’s wart.”
“I didn’t want you hanging around a boy with tattoos. I was afraid he’d get you to try a cigarette, and I wouldn’t want to see you addicted.”
Fern laughed. “He probably would have convinced me to get a tattoo. I’d get a butterfly on my ankle.”
“You wouldn’t, and you won’t.”
“If I wore stockings all the time, you’d never know.”
He curled one side of his mouth. “Too bad you go barefoot so often. You’d never be able to hide it.” They started walking again. Reuben was eager to beat the sunset. They wouldn’t be able to find their way in these woods when it got dark. “You still haven’t told me who H was. Or is.”
Fern concentrated very hard on the path in front of her. “Was. He loves someone else, and I’m not in love with anybody.”
“Well, gute, because I would never take another boy’s girlfriend to dinner.”
“You’re taking me to dinner?”
“McDonald’s.”
“Ach, Reuben, I can’t afford McDonald’s.”
“I’m taking you to dinner. That means it’s my treat.”
Her face lit up like a fast-food heat lamp. “Can I get a Big Mac?”
“Two Big Macs and a large fry.”
“And lemonade? I love lemonade.”
He could never say no to that face. He didn’t even want to.
Chapter Eleven
Esther had not been lying. Her dog was the stinkiest thing Fern had ever had the misfortune of smelling. Sweetie Pie smelled worse than Anna Helmuth’s oyster and water chestnut salad or her deviled Spam sandwiches. Sweetie Pie smelled like skunk, rotten tomatoes, and dog poop. Fern gladly let Reuben get close to the dog. She would stand aside and hold the soap bottle and the garden hose.
Sweetie Pie was a large, yellow dog with curly fur and paws the size of saucers. And she absolutely, positively did not want to take a bath.
Fern giggled and held her nose as Reuben chased Sweetie Pie around Esther’s front yard and finally caught her by the neck. Half hugging, half coaxing her, he dragged Esther’s dog to the washtub and lifted her in. Poor Reuben! After being that close to the dog, he was going to stink to high heaven. Fern might have to spray him down before they were finished.
“Keep hold of her collar or she’ll run away,” Esther called from her perch on the camp chair she had brought outside to sit on. It was clear she had no intention of helping Reuben and Fern wash her dog. Reuben was doing penance, and Esther intended to enjoy it.
“I’ve got her,” Reuben said, trying to catch his breath as he clutched Sweetie Pie’s collar and wet her fur at the same time. He looked up and nearly knocked Fern over with the force of his smile. Despite the stinky dog, he was in a very gute mood. “Can I get a little water over here?”
Fern shook her head even as she took a few steps closer to the washtub. “I’d rather not get too close to the smell.”
“She’s wonderful ripe,” Reuben said.
“She killed a skunk last week,” Esther said. “The whole house smells bad.”
Making a mental note not to set foot in Esther’s house, Fern let the ice-cold water splash over Sweetie Pie’s fur. Sweetie Pie tried to shake it off. Reuben held her firm. Fern poured a generous amount of soap over the dog’s back, and Reuben worked it into a lather with his free hand.
“Get his belly too, Reuben,” Esther called. “Haven’t you ever washed a dog before?”
“Never,” Reuben said, smiling as if he’d just discovered his new favorite hobby.
“I used to wash the hogs when we took them to auction,” Fern said.
Reuben wrapped his fingers around Sweetie Pie’s tail. “I should have helped you all those years. I can tell I’ve missed out on a lot of fun.”
Fern poured more soap on the wiggly dog. “Except hogs mostly hold still, and they don’t smell half as bad.”
He glanced behind him at Esther and winked at Fern. “Denki for coming today,” he said, quietly enough that Esther couldn’t hear. “I don’t think I could have managed this alone.”
“I don’t mind, but I don’t know if I’ll want to sit next to you on the way home. You’re going to smell like something dead and rotting.”
He chuckled and ran his soapy hand down one of Sweetie Pie’s front legs. “Don’t complain, or I’ll give you a hug and share my good fortune.”
Reuben had picked her up this morning in Anna and Felty’s courting buggy, a two-seater, open to the air. She’d probably be able to endure the smell temporarily.
Fern had made sure to be waiting for him in front of the Schmuckers’ house when he’d arrived this morning. The less Reuben knew about her living situation, the better. She was already quite low in Reuben’s estimation because of John and Linda Sue. It would be better if Reuben didn’t know how much further she’d sunk. She was in Bonduel to cheer Reuben up. She couldn’t have any influence on him if he found her repulsive. She was low enough already, thank you very much.
The same went for her new job. Let Reuben guess all he wanted. She’d never tell him that she was being paid to scrub toilets. There was only so much a boy could endure.
Sweetie Pie was a fluffy ball of fur and foam. Reuben had even scrubbed her ears. “Okay, Fern,” he said. “You can spray her down.”
“Don’t spray too hard,” Esther called. “She’s got very delicate skin.”
Fern and Reuben shared a private smile. If Sweetie Pie had sensitive skin, Fern would like to see what Esther thought was tough. That dog looked like she could eat garbage for breakfast and come out licking her chops. “Step away from her so you don’t get wet,” Fern said, holding her hose at the ready.
“She’ll get away if I let go. You’ll just have to do your best to miss me.”
She raised an eyebrow. “And you trust me with that job?”
He made a face. “Nae. Not really.”
“You’re already wet,” Esther said. “Sweetie Pie will run straight for the compost pile if you let go, and she’ll be dirtier than when you started.”
Reuben nodded to Esther and then looked daggers at Fern with a grin twitching at his lips. “Remember, I’m bigger than you. Any mischief and I’ll get even. It would be wonderful chilly in a soggy dress.”
Fern pretended to think it over. Much as she would have liked to dowse Reuben with her hose, it was only April and there was still a taste of frost in the air. She didn’t want Reuben to catch a cold, and she certainly couldn’t afford to get sick.
She stepped closer and let the water trickle down Sweetie Pie’s back while Reuben rubbed her fur and wiped the soap away. They did his head and his legs, working together like a team of well-trained horses. Reuben’s long, deft fingers splayed along Sweetie Pie’s back and up across her neck. Fern’s hands ached with the cold water. His must be freezing. Fern loved Reuben’s fingers. They were attached to strong and competent hands and hard, muscular arms. Reuben might be stuck-up and rich, but he wasn’t lazy or soft like many of the Englisch boys who did nothing but sit in their basements and play video games all day. Reuben knew how to work, and he had the arms to prove it.
Reuben held tight to Sweetie Pie’s collar but stepped as far away as he could as Fern gave the dog one last rinse. “Okay,” she said. “You can let go.”
Reuben released the dog, and she immediately jumped out of the washtub.
“Look out!” Esther squeaked. Showing more life than she had all morning, she leaped from her camp chair and ran into the house.
Sweetie Pie trotted up to Reuben as if she wanted a pat on the head, gave him a smile, and shook herself from head to toe. A rainbow of water droplets flew from Sweetie Pie’s fur, soaking everyone and everything in its wide arc, but mostly Reuben, who sucked in his breath, wrapped his arms around his head, and tried to jump out of the way. Fern ran for the trees, but water drops pelted her like rain.
“Ach, du lieva,” she cried as the cold water trickled down her neck and stole her breath away.
The rain stopped falling, and she turned to see Reuben swiping water from his face, which had gotten wet despite his best efforts. Water dripped from his dark hair and trickled down his neck, and his shirt, which had already gotten wet from Sweetie Pie’s bath, was completely soaked. He grinned at Fern and shook the water from his hands. “Denki, Sweetie Pie,” he said, sounding very ungrateful and giving the dog a token pat on the head.
Sweetie Pie gave him a “you’re welcome” bark before trotting into the woods, no doubt to undo all the work Reuben had just done.
It was no wonder that dog smelled like three days of garbage.
Fern smoothed her hand over the front of her apron. It was damp but not dripping. The back of her dress and apron were damper, but she had been far enough away to avoid the drenching Reuben had received. A drop of water fell on her cheek, and she pressed her hand to her head. Her scarf was the wettest thing on her. She tugged it off her head, wrung it out, and knotted it back in place around her hair.
She looked up to see Reuben studying her intently, with an unreadable expression on his face. He quickly averted his eyes as if he shouldn’t be looking, but she saw a grin playing at his lips as he tried to wring out his shirt while still wearing it.
“Did you get soaked?” he said.
“Not as badly as you did. I’m damp.”
He swiped his wet, unruly hair out of his eyes. “You’re going to get cold.”
She loved how he watched out for her, even though he was in much worse shape than she was. “You’re going to freeze.”
Esther opened her front door just wide enough to stick her head out. She obviously didn’t like cracking that door any farther than she absolutely had to. “I told you to watch out. Sweetie Pie always shakes the water off after a bath.”
“I’ll remember that,” Reuben said, his lips twitching with a stifled grin.
“You need to clip her hair next,” Esther said. “And then do the other dogs and my horses.” Fern had only known Esther for a few weeks, but she could tell that ordering people around gave Esther a great deal of pleasure. She seemed to enjoy being in charge, and she plainly loved being in charge of Reuben.
Esther wasn’t likely to let Reuben off easily or soon. He might be toiling for Esther all summer. He had promised Esther that he’d work until Esther was satisfied, but it made Fern a little irritated that Esther would take advantage of his gute heart.
Reuben smiled, not at Esther, but at Fern—a private smile that said he knew exactly what Esther was doing. “Have you go
t clippers?”
Esther finally dragged herself out of the house and shut the door. “You can’t clip Sweetie Pie now. She’s all wet.” For the first time since Fern had known her, Esther seemed to be uncertain of herself. She wrung her hands as if she didn’t know what to do with them and sort of peered at Reuben out of the corner of her eye. “You’ll have to come back tomorrow.”
Fern clamped her lips together and tried not to let her eyes widen in surprise. Esther, in her own abrasive way, was interested in Reuben. Fern’s heart did a flip, and she felt as if one of her brothers had just given her a good shove. She had a wonderful-strange way of showing it, but Esther liked Reuben.
Of course she did.
Fern didn’t know why it surprised her. Reuben was handsome and good-natured and as fun as a whole litter of puppies.
Reuben was looking at Fern as if expecting her to say something. Had he asked a question? “Can you come tomorrow?” he said.
As Fern expected, Esther wasn’t enthusiastic about Fern tagging along with Reuben. “She doesn’t need to bother. I can help you clip Sweetie Pie.”
Well. Maybe Fern wanted to tag along. She always had at home when Reuben and her brother went on adventures and she hadn’t wanted to be left out. But the decision was Reuben’s. If he wanted to clip dog fur alone with Esther, Fern shouldn’t interfere. Although Esther was abrasive and blunt, Fern couldn’t be absolutely sure that Esther didn’t strike Reuben’s fancy. She didn’t like the thought of Reuben and Esther together, but if that was what Reuben wanted, Fern would stay away—no matter how her chest tightened at the thought.
Reuben did a gute job of looking disappointed. “I can’t come tomorrow.” His face lit up, as if a gute idea had just landed on him. “I can come on Friday with Fern. It will go faster with three of us.”
Fern had told Reuben that she worked Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. She had blocked out Monday, Wednesday, and Friday because of the knitting group.
Her heart did a little dance that it had no business doing, and she immediately tamped down any excitement that might be brewing there. This didn’t mean he wanted to spend time with her. How silly of her to entertain that idea for even a second. He didn’t want to spend time alone with prickly Esther, that was all. Poor Esther. It seemed her hopes for Reuben were in vain, at least for the time being. Reuben might still fall in love with her, but he’d have to do it with Fern standing by. But he didn’t seem to mind.
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