by Ruth Reid
“No need to apologize.” Hearing his deep sigh, she turned to Cocoa and gave the mare a pat on her neck. “You don’t need to worry. I won’t be so bold as to propose to you again.”
The clanging sound of a metal bucket skittering across the barn’s cement floor drew her attention. She spun around to find Zach’s mouth hanging open in stunned silence.
“Sorry.” Elijah stepped out from the shadow of the equipment room. “I tripped over a grain bucket.”
“You were spying on us!” Catherine rasped.
“Well, nay. Nett intentionally.” He pointed his thumb over his shoulder in the door’s direction. “It’s freezing out there.”
“I left you a blanket,” Zach snapped.
“It’s wet, and . . .” He looked at Catherine with those penetrating blue-gray eyes of his, which had a way of seeing straight through her. “I, ah . . . I think I’ll . . .”
Silence hung between them before Zach snipped, “You’ll what?”
Elijah stared a half second longer at Catherine before turning his attention to Zach. “I’m gonna walk the rest of the way to Mammi’s.”
Catherine couldn’t do much about how puffy and blotchy her eyes must look, but she stood straighter and squared her shoulders. “You don’t have to walk home. Zach was just leaving.”
She stormed past Zach, then Elijah—the two men who had broken her heart.
Elijah trudged through the snow toward the sleigh alongside Zach. “What was that all about?”
“Nothing.”
It wasn’t nothing. Elijah climbed onto the sleigh and sat on the bench. “You made her cry.”
“Like you haven’t?” Zach ground the words under his breath, but Elijah knew enough to clamp his mouth shut and leave things alone. He didn’t need anyone reminding him how badly he’d hurt Catherine. Past decisions had plagued him with daily reminders. Still, it pained him to see tears clinging to her lashes—especially when she was trying so hard not to show her emotions.
Elijah wished now he hadn’t gone to The Amish Table for the get-together. Other than his parents and mammi, Catherine and Zach were the main people he wanted to see, and neither of them offered much welcome. Now he wished he had slipped into the district, spent a few days visiting his family, then hopped the first bus out of town without seeing anyone else.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kumm into the barn,” Elijah said.
Zach tapped the reins and the sleigh lurched forward.
Something was eating at his friend, but Elijah wasn’t sure if he should bring it out in the open or leave things alone. Besides, it wasn’t like he could offer relationship advice; he’d certainly made a mess of his life.
“I think the temperature has dropped more.”
“Probably,” Zach muttered.
Neither spoke until they reached Mammi’s farm, and then Zach only muttered something about the tracks leading into the ditch as he stopped the sleigh. Without verbalizing his thoughts, he unhooked the lantern and climbed off the bench.
Elijah circled around the back of the sleigh. “What do you think?”
Zach shone the lantern over the area. “Doesn’t look damaged.”
“That’s gut.” The old buggy had seen better days. The worn top was cracked to the point of seeing snow flurries inside the buggy before the accident, and he couldn’t imagine riding in it during a rainstorm. Even so, he would have felt awful if he had bent a wheel or done major damage. His grandmother didn’t go out by herself anymore, but she did lend the horse and buggy to neighboring youth who offered to go into town for her groceries and supplies.
“I don’t think it’ll be difficult to pull it out. I’ll kumm by tomorrow,” Zach said.
“Danki, I appreciate it.”
“It won’t be early. I have someone coming by the shop in the morning to pick up an order.”
“So, you’re open on New Year’s Day?”
“Every day but Sunday.”
“Nett much free time.”
Zach snorted. “It’s the only way to build a business.”
Elijah hadn’t meant to sound judgmental. Lately he had too much free time on his hands. He wished he had clear goals again— and a horse training business to build.
Thankfully when Catherine went into the house all was quiet. Her older brother, George, and his wife, Gwyneth, had already put the children to bed and had turned in themselves. Otherwise they would have been full of questions. Especially Gwen, since earlier Catherine, in her excitement, had slipped and shared how she hoped Zach would propose tonight during their sleigh ride.
Catherine tiptoed upstairs and went into her bedroom. The moment she stepped into the room, she flopped onto her bed and buried her face in the feather pillow to muffle her sobs.
Lord, I’m so confused. If I’m nett to marry Zach, then what is mei purpose? To cook at The Amish Table the rest of mei life? She cried harder as the prospect of her thoughts coming true cemented in her mind.
“Closing is for the best.” Faith’s words mocked Catherine. Only moments ago she’d whined about being a cook the rest of her life— forgetting that she was jobless. Ungrateful. She sobbed harder. Now how would she be able to help George with the bills? He’d taken the brunt of their mother’s financial responsibility when complications from diabetes had claimed her foot, then her leg, and finally her life. At least the money Catherine had earned working at The Amish Table helped pay the household expenses.
She reached for the box of tissues on her bedside table and yanked one out, then blew her nose. “No job. No bu. No purpose. Nau what?”
Catherine pushed off the bed, changed into her nightdress, then crawled back into bed, burying herself under the covers. Her eyes filled with tears once more, and the tissue couldn’t absorb them fast enough.
The door creaked open, and her five-year-old niece poked her head inside. “Aenti Catherine, are you awake?”
Catherine coughed to push down the lump clogging her throat. “Jah, kumm in, Julie.”
The child padded over to the bed.
“Are you nett feeling well?” Her niece had been feverish earlier. Catherine placed her hand on the child’s forehead. “You don’t feel as hot as you did earlier.”
“I heard a noise. Can I sleep with you, Aenti?”
Catherine flipped back multiple layers of blankets and patted the mattress. “Kumm nau, before you wake your parents.”
Her niece snuggled next to her under the covers, warming her cold feet on Catherine’s legs.
“Where are your socks, child?”
Julie simply giggled and wiggled her toes more against Catherine’s skin. Her playful gesture brought a smile to Catherine’s face. At least her niece seemed to be feeling better. It wasn’t long before Julie fell asleep.
Catherine wished she could close her eyes and not see the scorn on Zach’s face. After the blunder she’d made, she wished she could move to another district and start a new life—if only that were possible.
Chapter 3
The following morning Catherine slipped out from under the bedcovers and gasped at the sudden chill. Sleeping next to Julie had been like sleeping next to the cookstove. The poor child’s fever still lingered, even after a night of alternating sweats and chills.
Catherine sat on the edge of the mattress with her feet dangling to postpone the initial contact of her bare feet on the plank floor. Cold winter mornings such as today made her wish she could crawl back under the covers and stay put the entire day.
Yawning, Catherine glanced over her shoulder at Julie. Her niece had ended up tossing in her sleep for several hours, not settling until her tiny arms were wrapped around Catherine’s neck and she was blowing wisps of nasal-clogged breaths next to Catherine’s ear. She studied the girl’s rosy cheeks and red lips. Thankfully she hadn’t awakened Julie when she untangled herself from the child’s grip.
Catherine eased her toes onto the floor first, then tiptoed over to the chair where she had removed her wool socks and
left them to dry last night. Shivering, she shoved her feet into the woolen footwear. While some people splashed cold water on their faces in the morning to get their blood flowing, all she had to do was step on the chilly floor.
Catherine changed out of her nightclothes without opening the curtain or lighting a lantern to illuminate the darkened room. She wasn’t even sure what dress she had selected off the wall peg, but it didn’t matter. She wasn’t going into work today. It wasn’t important to look her Sunday best. Then again, if Zach dropped by for a visit—and he probably would, to apologize for his brash response last night—she would want to look presentable. After all, he would have had time to think about her proposal, and perhaps he changed his mind.
Catherine opened the curtains and took a good look at what she was wearing, then decided to change into a better dress. She carefully brushed her hair and formed it into a bun, then fastened her prayer kapp in place. Yes, she wanted to be ready when Zach came calling.
She padded down the stairs, the warm air greeting her as she neared the kitchen. Her sister-in-law had already stoked the cookstove and was busy preparing breakfast when Catherine joined her.
“Well?” Gwen stirred pancake batter. “I want to hear all about your evening. Did he ask?”
Catherine shook her head. She wasn’t prepared to share that she’d been the one to propose to Zach, or how he promptly rejected her.
“I’m sorry.”
“Jah, me too.” She opened the cabinet door and removed a stack of plates, then counted out the utensils for the three adults and three children.
“How was the get-together? I suppose everyone showed up but us.”
Everyone plus one unexpected out-of-towner. “It was better that you stayed home with Julie. It ended early because of the weather.” Catherine went to the window and glanced at the snow blowing across the driveway.
Gwen came up behind her and peered over her shoulder. “Do you see George?”
“Nay,” she said with a yawn. “I was just interested in how much snow had fallen overnight. It’s gotta be below zero. If you listen closely, you can hear the wind howling.”
“Poor George. I’m sure even with all the hay insulating the barn, he’s still kalt. I probably should have made oatmeal.”
“We still have time. Do you want me to put a pot of water on to boil?”
“Nay, I already mixed the pancake batter, and there’s no sense making both.” Gwen covered her mouth with her hand as she yawned. “Your yawning is catchy. I take it you didn’t get much sleep last nacht. What time did you get home?”
“Early.” She went to the stove to check the percolator. She needed a mug of coffee to wake her up. In time, she would tell Gwen. Then again, Zach would stop by later, and they would be able to smooth things over between them.
Gwen placed the cast-iron griddle on the stove and added a few pats of butter while Catherine filled two mugs with coffee. She handed a mug to her sister-in-law. “Would you like me to wake the kinner?”
“Nay, let’s give them a few extra minutes.” Gwen took a sip of coffee, then set her mug back down on the counter while she worked the melting butter over the surface of the skillet. Once the pan was coated, she poured the pancake batter.
The kitchen door opened and George stepped into the house, bringing in a gust of cold air with him. Clumps of snow fell from his boots as he stomped them on the rug. Even so, snow trailed his stocky frame over to the counter where he placed the galvanized milk canister. “It’s another kalt day. The milk is already chilled.” He removed his coat, gloves, and hat and hung them on the wall hook. George glanced around the kitchen with a frown, then poked his head into the sitting room. “Where are the kinner?”
“I thought they could use more sleep.” Gwen readied her husband’s plate with a stack of golden pancakes.
George’s frown deepened. “Are they all sick nau?”
Catherine couldn’t help but wonder if the worry lines marking her brother’s forehead were of a financial nature. George had worried almost nonstop ever since the crops failed. It was bad enough to lose them to drought the season before last, but this year the harvest yield wasn’t enough to feed the livestock all winter let alone bring in extra money. The crop catastrophe on top of Mamm’s unpaid hospital bills had put a hardship on the family and was probably what caused her brother’s hair to gray prematurely. Catherine had gladly offered her paycheck each week to help with the household expenses, but her brother rarely took it all. He insisted she have spending money of her own.
“Jimmy started coughing and became feverish in the middle of the nacht,” Gwen said, stacking the golden pancakes on a platter. “I think this bug is going to run through the entire household before it’s over.”
Lord, let it nett be so.
George washed his hands at the sink. Her brother was a stickler for the entire family getting up at sunrise and sharing the morning chores, whether it be assisting Gwen and herself with meal preparations, as ten-year-old Leah was tasked to do while five-year-old Julie wiped the table, or bringing firewood in from the woodshed, as seven-year-old Jimmy did each day. By the time George finished the morning milking, hands were washed, breakfast was on the table, and everyone was ready to eat.
George took his place at the table, and Gwen was quick to place the plate of pancakes before him along with a small jar of warm maple syrup.
Catherine poured him a mug of coffee, then sat next to Gwen. They bowed their heads in unison and silently asked the Lord’s blessing over the food. Catherine asked for the children to be healed of the flu and a made a special request that she find another job. Because, unlike Faith, she wasn’t planning a wedding, and it wasn’t as if she had pot holders to sew for her already-full hope chest.
“How bad do you think the roads are?” Gwen asked once they were eating.
He shrugged. “The end of the driveway is drifted shut, but I noticed the Kings’ buggy heading toward town earlier and saw Bishop Zook going in the opposite direction. The county plows must have cleared the main roads. Do you need to go somewhere?”
“I was hoping you would be able to pick up a few things in town,” Gwen said.
“Does it have to be today? I don’t want to be away from Jasmine when she starts calving. We nearly lost her last time she delivered.”
Catherine poured maple syrup over her pancakes. “I can go. What is it you need?”
“I have a list started. Mainly cough and cold products for the kinner.”
“There’s supposed to be another snowstorm coming through later today,” George said between bites of food. “Another foot or two is what I heard.”
Catherine ate a little faster. More snow meant the roads would be slippery. If she waited too long, George would insist she stay home. She couldn’t risk the children going without medicine.
A few minutes later, her brother finished his pancakes, drained his mug of coffee, then pushed away from the table. He put his coat, hat, and gloves back on. “I’ll shovel the driveway and hitch the buggy for you.”
“Danki.” Catherine braced for the rush of cold air that swept inside with his exit. She sipped her coffee.
Gwen scooted across the room and came back to the table with pen and paper. “I’m adding a few packets of yeast to the list. If we’re going to get another storm, I don’t want to be without bread.” As she made the notation on paper, she said, “You never told me how your sleigh ride with Zach went.”
Catherine frowned. “He offered to drop Elijah Graber off at his mammi’s haus—and mei stop was the closest, so he dropped me off first.”
Her sister-in-law’s eyes widened at the mention of Elijah’s name, but as she opened her mouth to speak, Leah lumbered into the kitchen holding her belly and complaining of a sour stomach.
With Gwen distracted with checking her daughter’s forehead for a fever, Catherine stood and collected the dirty dishes.
Her nephew staggered into the kitchen next, yawning.
Catheri
ne set the dishes in the sink. She spotted George at the end of the driveway shoveling a path through the snow. It would be a while before she could leave. Catherine set the frying pan on the stove, added enough butter to coat the pan, then poured little pancakes from the leftover batter. “Your breakfast will be ready in a minute.”
“Nau Leah has a fever.” Gwen removed the liquid acetaminophen from the cabinet, eyed what little remained, then measured the dose and tossed the empty bottle into the trash.
Julie toddled into the kitchen and sat down just as Catherine was setting the pancakes on the table, but the children only picked at their meals.
Gwen sighed. “I think they’ll all be heading back to their sickbed for sure.” She winked at her youngest. “Maybe I’ll join them for a nap.”
“I hope you’re nett getting sick too,” Catherine said.
Gwen placed her hand on her belly. “Didn’t I say it would go through the haus?”
“I’m keeping mei distance,” Catherine teased, covering one hand over her nose and mouth and snatching the supply list off the table with her other. She went to the door and put on her boots, wool cloak, scarf, gloves, and winter bonnet. “I’ll try nett to be too long.”
Catherine gazed at the gray clouds hovering overhead. George was probably right about another storm looming. Snow crunched underfoot as she made her way to the buggy her brother had already hitched.
“Try to keep your eye on the weather.” George handed her the reins.
“Jah, I will.”
“Don’t give the horse too much rein, and don’t drive on the shoulder of the road where the snowplows have banked the snow.”
She knew those things. George was overly cautious. She’d been driving a buggy on the main road during sleet, snow, and heavy rain without any issues for more than fifteen years. But since Aenti Irma and Onkle Mordecai’s buggy accident last year, her brother had become increasingly more cautious.
Their narrow country road proved challenging, but once she reached the main road, the pavement had been plowed and salted. Their community was blessed to have one store open on New Year’s Day. Since the Yoders lived over the market, they were open year round except for Sundays and Christmas.
