When their server, a sweet mother of four named Angelica, heard they were visiting from Florida, she exclaimed about the Amish restaurant with the pies.
“I saw it on a travel show once, the guy ate a whole pie, I think,” she said, nodding.
“It’s the place. Our homes aren’t too far from the restaurant.”
“Oh. You’re not together? I thought you were . . . ah, a couple.”
Rochelle wanted a cushion to crawl under and hide. “No, no.” Her face burned, but she kept her composure. Of course, someone would assume they were married, seeing them together.
A half-grin grew on one side of Silas’s face and transformed into a full smile after the waitress took their check.
But he said nothing until he found his phone and checked the time. “We have about thirty minutes to stretch our legs some more and walk off some of the dessert before the car arrives.”
“It feels like we just arrived,” she said.
“It does, doesn’t it?”
So now, they found themselves strolling back toward the Mall at Peachtree, discussing the buildings and how busy the city was, as well as the best parts of the meal tonight.
“The food reminded me of Pinecraft. Comforting,” Rochelle observed. “I have to admit I’m glad the other fancy-pants place lost our reservation.”
“I am, too.” He glanced down at her arm.
Was he going to try to hold her hand? She had a flashback to the old courting days.
No, it was in the past. The present couldn’t be built on former heartache and heartbreak. This wouldn’t do.
Although Rochelle realized part of her wouldn’t mind traveling the road ahead of them and seeing what happened with Silas.
Yet, she didn’t know how long he’d be in Pinecraft. She knew she would likely go, someday, for a mission trip at the least. But the sunny neighborhood was her home. Silas’s home lay on another continent.
“Are you sure you don’t want to go to the mall?” he asked. “We could grab a coffee.”
“I’m fine. I drank so much water with supper, I think I could float.”
He chuckled. “That’s my Chelle, telling it like it is.”
My Chelle.
She chose to ignore the “my.” Only the nieces called her Chelle.
“Thank you for the lovely birthday present. I never expected to get a chance to fly, and the supper was fun. I can tell my friends how I went to Atlanta for supper one evening and then back to Pinecraft again.”
“You’re welcome. Aren’t you glad you flew?”
“Yes, I am. It’s good preparation for the future.”
“The future?”
“I’m going to apply to a medical missions board and go overseas for some short-term projects after I earn my RN.”
“But your business . . .”
“I’m thinking of selling the business.” She shrugged. The idea simultaneously thrilled and frightened her. To no longer be responsible for other people’s messes. To be somewhere else besides Pinecraft, if for a short time, say one or two years.
“Selling,” he repeated. “I think, one day, I’ll be back piloting for missions. But piloting right now for the Kingsleys, which is almost like missions work. Yes, they’ve probably got more money than I’d know what to do with, but even they have needs.”
“I noticed that. I hope and pray their little boy is able to go home, soon. What will you do when they don’t need you to fly them anywhere?”
“I’m sure I’ll get a contract with someone else.”
A few more minutes, and they stood at the place where the hired car had picked them up, and right on time, the car returned again, this time without the Kingsleys.
They arrived back at the airport, and twilight had come and gone. Rochelle hadn’t considered the probability of them flying home in the dark. She swallowed hard as she stepped up into the plane while Silas proceeded to make his preflight checks once again.
The interior of the plane was dimly lit, and Rochelle tried not to yawn. She shifted on the supple leather seat. She wouldn’t be able to study much on the way home.
Her phone buzzed. Emma, always the one to phone more quickly than Betsy.
“Aenti Chelle, how was your first flight and supper?”
“Very good, it’s all been wonderful. I’m a little tired, though. We had a nice walk downtown. You’d not believe the size of the buildings. I’ve seen skyscrapers in pictures, but never in person.”
“I can’t wait until you’re home again. It feels like you’ve been gone a week.”
Rochelle had to laugh. “It’s only been an afternoon.”
Silas pounded up the steps and entered the cabin. The look on his face made her pause.
“Emma, I’ll be home soon. I’ll let you know everything.”
“Gut. I’m looking forward to it.”
The look on Silas’s face, however, made Rochelle’s stomach give a flutter. “What is it, Silas?”
“One of the gauges isn’t working properly. The maintenance man on duty tonight pulled the gauge and is testing it for me, to see if it’s the real problem. If it is, we need to replace it.”
“Can we still fly tonight?”
“I’m not sure. If we need a replacement part, then we have to wait until morning. If not, we might not be able to get out of here until tomorrow morning, anyway, if we lose our place in the flight lineup.”
“Tomorrow morning,” she repeated. “But . . . where will we sleep?” Surely not on the plane. And, of course, not in a shared room or space of any kind. Rochelle wanted to scurry down the steps and go into the airport terminal.
“I’ve let Mr. Kingsley know of the problem, and he’s prepared to put us up overnight here in Atlanta. We won’t be stuck here on the tarmac.”
“A hotel?” Rochelle shook her head. She’d rather sleep in the terminal and use her sweater as a makeshift blanket and her tote bag as a pillow.
“Not together, of course. He’s prepared to book separate rooms for us.”
Rochelle tried not to shudder. What would people say, about her and Silas remaining in Atlanta overnight? It wasn’t like it was their fault. Silas needed to stay to fix the plane. She wouldn’t impose by asking about a commercial flight to Sarasota, either, even if she could afford the cost. Driving the hundreds of miles overnight was impractical.
She wanted to call the nieces, but knew Emma would spin into a tizzy once she heard the news and be full of questions Rochelle couldn’t answer right now.
Today had been a sweet time, her and Silas together, just the two of them. It had been easy to pretend he was only a new friend. Now, though, she wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep up pretending.
* * *
Silas regretted being the bearer of bad news and causing a crease to appear in Rochelle’s forehead. However, he couldn’t think of any way around the two of them having to stay in Atlanta tonight.
Even if he could find a flight to Sarasota for Rochelle this evening, it would be expensive and he knew she didn’t want to be any trouble to the Kingsleys. Even if the gauge issue was resolved tonight, they’d lost their spot in the flight lineup. So here they were.
Ted had understood about the mechanical issue with the gauge.
“Better safe than sorry,” he said. “Find a mechanic, get the part, figure it out. Have them bill me.”
But the maintenance staff was tied up with another plane, a commercial flight, and Silas had to wait his turn. And if a part was needed, they likely couldn’t get it until the morning. Unless they had a gauge waiting around the hangar somewhere.
He left Rochelle fretting in the cabin, after trying to assure her he was doing everything he could. He had to see to the plane first.
Smitty, the on-duty mechanic this evening, approached. He wiped his hands on a greasy rag. “We can get another gauge and replace it, but not until first thing in the morning. Sorry you’re stuck here instead of in Florida.”
“It’s not your fault. Not t
he first time I’ve had an unplanned overnight stop. What time in the morning?”
“Morning shift comes in around seven. We put the order in, gauge should be here first thing.” Smitty squinted at the plane. “It’s the best we can do tonight.”
“I understand. I’ll be back here around seven and file another plan for noon tomorrow. It ought to be enough time to get the gauge tested, then get ready to fly.”
“Sounds like a good idea. We’ll see you back here in the morning.”
Silas shook hands with the man, then paused at the bottom of the plane’s steps when his phone warbled. Ted Kingsley.
“Hello, sir.”
“I’ve booked a pair of rooms for you at Hospitality Suites, same place you stayed in last time. I’m sending a cab for you, whenever you’re ready. I’d be staying there as well, but I want to spend time with Amanda and Benjamin tonight.”
“I understand. I’ll reimburse you for the expense of Rochelle’s room.”
“Nonsense. This wasn’t your fault. Call me when you have a status tomorrow, and I’ll let you know when we need to be picked up next week.”
“I will. Have a good evening.”
“You too, Silas.”
Rochelle looked up at him expectantly when he entered the cabin. “So?”
“We’re definitely staying the night. Mr. Kingsley has reserved two rooms for us at a hotel down the road, and he’s sending a cab to take us there. I’ve stayed there before. It’s nice. Free breakfast, too.”
She wrapped the strap of her tote bag around one finger. “How . . . how kind of him. Truly, to pay for rooms for us.”
He wanted to ease her discomfort, but didn’t have a clue on how to do it. “We’ll head straight back to Sarasota as soon as this issue is taken care of. I can keep in touch with you by phone, so you don’t have to wait here in the morning while they work on the plane.”
“No, I don’t mind. Whenever you leave in the morning, I’ll wait in the terminal. Or office.”
He opened his mouth to suggest she think of tonight like an adventure, but figured it wouldn’t help much. “Well, we do have leftovers to snack on tonight. And there’s always vending machines at the hotel.”
Rochelle nodded, her frown deepening. “I . . . I should call my nieces, let them know. I have a morning client. I need to figure something out. Betsy has the shop, and Emma has another client at the same time . . .” She clamped her mouth shut. “I’m sorry. I’m just thinking out loud.”
“It’s all right. You weren’t expecting to be stranded, and I know you have a business to run.”
Silas didn’t add how he understood she lived by a schedule. He’d learned years ago sometimes the schedule needed tossing out the proverbial window. He’d ended up stranded in much worse places, like in a remote village. A one-night stay turned into a week of wearing the same clothes while waiting on a part delivery. But this was the first time he’d ever been stranded anywhere with Rochelle Keim.
* * *
You’re a certifiable big baby, reacting like this to being stranded. Of course, when she’d spoken to Betsy, her great-niece’s tone registered nothing but shock at the idea her Aenti Chelle found herself stuck in Atlanta, hundreds of miles away from Sarasota.
“Ach, sometimes it’s better just to keep one’s feet on the ground, I think,” Betsy said. “I’m glad you had a nice time, though.”
Rochelle reassured her, of course, she and Silas had separate rooms. A tongue or two might wag, but surely nothing serious could come of this unfortunate delay in returning home.
Nothing romantic was going on with Silas, despite his aunt and uncle’s and other well-meaning friends’ subtle efforts to urge them to spend time with each other. The whole idea of courtship felt different now, especially with him a widower and her, well, her current age. Neither were starry-eyed youngsters.
She shook her head at the idea of Silas’s parents or someone else being a chaperone for them. She was careful not to ride in a car alone with him, and the open-air horseless buggy rides didn’t count. What did the “appearance of evil” mean, anyway? Was it evil that they were stranded overnight in a strange city and stayed at the same lodging?
It would have been silly for them to stay at two separate hotels, and how could she have even asked Silas to ask Mr. Kingsley, who graciously paid for not just Silas’s, but her hotel room?
No, this was overreacting. Like a little child.
She waited in the lobby of a lovely hotel, with marble floors and expensive-looking furniture. Silas stood at the mahogany reception desk. He nodded as he signed some papers and the woman behind the desk gave him the key cards for the rooms.
Then he turned and crossed the lobby to join her.
“Here’s your key. I only got one for each room.” He clutched a pair of small plastic bags. “And, here’s a bag with toothpaste, toothbrush, toiletries.”
“Thanks.”
He led her toward a set of elevators and punched a button. “She put us in adjoining rooms on the top floor, facing downtown for the view.”
The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. Rochelle stepped inside, ahead of Silas. As each minute passed, she felt like a country bumpkin even though she’d been a city girl her entire adult life. Pinecraft had a coziness and she’d nestled herself inside it as much as possible, except for visiting clients and an occasional trip to a flea market or to the beach.
“You’re awfully quiet,” Silas observed as the elevator glided up to the tenth floor.
“I’m a little tired, I guess.” She smiled and clutched her tote bag a little more tightly. “Emma is trying to find someone to help with a client tomorrow morning. Betsy can’t. And I’m here, of course.”
“What about Lena? Maybe she could do it. I don’t think she has class tomorrow.”
“Oh, I hadn’t thought of asking her. Do you think she would?”
“I’m almost sure she will.”
The elevator stopped, then the bell chimed as the doors slid open. Rochelle stepped from the elevator.
“Which room again?” She glanced at the tiny envelope—marked 1015—then at the tiny brass wall signs covered with numbers.
“I’m in 1017.”
They went in the direction the arrow pointed until they reached a pair of doors, side by side. A suite.
“I imagine there’s an inner door separating the rooms.”
“I imagine.” She slid her card into the lock. “Well, what time do you plan to head to the airport in the morning.”
“Seven. It’s early, but I want to get the part ordered and installed asap.”
“I’ll be ready. Good night, Silas.”
“Good night,” he replied as she entered the room and let the door click shut behind her.
Someone had left a single light burning in the corner of the room, where a comfortable-looking easy chair and ottoman sat. A massive king-size bed took up a good portion of the opposite wall adjoining the inner door Silas had just mentioned.
Rochelle tossed her tote bag and the sundries bag on the bed and strode to the large door leading outside. She had a small balcony, it turned out, along with a sparkling view of downtown, miles away.
The night had a bit of a chill to it, so Rochelle turned on the room’s heater. She missed Florida and its warmth.
Strangely, after the doziness she felt while waiting inside the plane’s cabin, now she knew sleep would be a while in coming. And the two of them, having to be up and out early in the morning.
A cup of tea should do the trick, and Rochelle set about brewing a cup. Her phone rang, again. She ought to turn it off tonight, to save what remained of the battery.
Emma.
“Hello, Emma.”
“Aenti Chelle, I found someone to take the Baxters tomorrow. Lena said she could do it.”
“Oh, good. Silas mentioned the possibility a few minutes ago, but I was waiting to see if you found someone first.”
“Everyone is shocked you’re having to stay ov
ernight. The house is too quiet without you, aenti.”
Everyone is shocked. Did Emma tell everyone in the village she and Silas were stuck in Atlanta overnight?
“Ah, I’m glad you miss me. But, Emma, who did you tell?”
“Vera Byler, for one. I asked if she or Patience could help, but she said they couldn’t.”
Rochelle bit her lip. “Well, I’m glad this all worked out. I’m making a cup of tea right now, and then I’m going to turn my phone off to save the battery. In case you call me and wonder why I don’t pick up.”
“All right. Good night, Aenti Chelle.”
Rochelle tried not to groan as she turned the phone off. She set the alarm clock for five-thirty, then saw to her cup of tea. Now she knew she’d have a time trying to sleep. What would Vera Byler have to say about Rochelle’s unplanned overnight trip?
* * *
Rochelle, 19
Belinda shed no tears at John’s funeral. Hundreds from their community turned out for the service, including many strangers. Rochelle sat beside her best friend, and the two clenched hands during the service.
After the service’s closing, they all went to the town’s civic center, as the church’s fellowship hall had been deemed too small for the hundreds of Mennonites from the community who stayed for the potluck meal. Everyone understood how things were done. Rochelle suspected the Hershbergers would eat well for days to come.
Nobody sent meals or much comfort for Belinda. If she were John’s wife, the story would be entirely different.
Rochelle didn’t tell her friend this. Instead, they went through the food line together. A quiet murmur filled the church hall.
“I guess I should eat.” Belinda stared at her plate, full of the most comforting food, all suggested by Rochelle.
Rochelle swallowed the bite she’d been chewing. “Try something. The broccoli cheese casserole is especially good.”
“John always said cheese can make almost anything better.” A smile quirked one corner of Belinda’s mouth. She picked up her fork.
This made Rochelle smile, too. It sounded like something John would have said.
Someone pulled the chair out beside her. “Hello.” Silas nodded at both of them. “How are you managing, Belinda?”
A Promise of Grace Page 12
