by Amy Lillard
“Here we are.” Nadine bopped back into the room, a too-large smile on her face. Her arms were loaded with quilts, sheets, and pillows.
Amos knocked his knuckles against the tabletop and gave Charlotte what he hoped was a smile. It felt more like a grimace. He adjusted his teeth, and it felt worse, so he stopped altogether. “Danki for the pie,” he said. “And the coffee. And letting me stay in the barn.”
But Charlotte was too deep into her own thoughts—or maybe it was misery—to acknowledge his words.
Arms still full of various bedding items, Nadine tugged on his sleeve. “Come.”
He followed her out of the house and into the dark barn.
“There’s a flashlight by the door,” she said as they entered the structure. “To the left.”
It took only a moment in the black-as-pitch interior to find the light she was talking about and switch it on. As far as illumination went, it wasn’t the best, but it would help him find a place to pass the night.
Nadine set the bedding down on a hay bale and took the flashlight from him. She swung it around, apparently looking for a place for him.
“Why not there?” he suggested, pointing toward the very same hay bale.
“It’s too small.”
“I’ll go up to the loft and toss another one down. Then I can push them together and make a bed. Shine the light for me so I can see.”
She did as he asked, and he cautiously climbed the ladder into the hayloft.
“That was easy,” she said just as he got to the top.
“What was?” He found a bale without any problem. “Look out below!” he called, then tossed it down to the main floor.
“How many times have you done this?”
“Pitched a hay bale?” he asked. “Too many to count.” He started back down the ladder.
“Spent the night in a lady’s barn because your buggy doesn’t have lights and it got dark on you?”
He reached the bottom and turned to face her. He had to hold up a hand to block the light. It was shining directly into his face.
“Sorry.” She pointed it away.
“This is the only time. But I did travel for a while when I was younger. There are a lot of Amish in Missouri and a lot of Englisch farmers. So I went from place to place and worked for various farmers and slept in their barn before heading out the next day.”
“And that gave you the experience, huh?”
“Jah.” He moved the second hay bale closer to the first. “Shine that light over here so I can see what I’m doing.”
She did as he asked, and in less than two minutes, he had the perfect bed made up. Well, maybe not completely perfect, but barn perfect to be sure.
“Here.” She handed him the flashlight and started to turn away.
“Thank you, Nadine.”
“For what?”
“Taking care of me. Being here. Being my friend.” The hokiest thing he had ever said, but the fact was that it was the truest as well.
“You’re welcome,” she said, and without looking back, she left him and the barn behind.
Chapter Fifteen
Apparently word of their fishing trip, their dunk into the lake, and Amos spending the night in their barn had gotten around Wells Landing.
That didn’t take long, Amos thought. They had walked into the seniors’ meeting the following evening, and all eyes had been on them. He wasn’t sure how everyone knew, but it was obvious that they did. He hadn’t told anyone, and he was fairly certain Nadine wouldn’t have said anything. But such was the way with small communities. Word just got around.
“Everyone is staring,” Nadine said through her smile. Her lips barely moved.
“Act natural and maybe they won’t strike,” he said in the same manner.
She whirled around. “You should be thankful that I’m Amish, Amos Fisher, or I might have socked you in the nose for that. This is no laughing matter.”
He touched his nose gently as if she had made good on her threat. “I am glad you’re Amish, but this is definitely something to laugh about.”
They had gathered in the back room at Kauffman Family Restaurant for what Effie Byler had called a “fun and interesting surprise.” Then she had promised everyone slices of Cora Ann’s pies for a snack. Amos was certain most had shown up for the pie over the “fun and interesting” surprise.
“Everyone here thinks there’s something going on between us.”
“Why does that bother you?”
She stopped. “I don’t know. It doesn’t. But—”
She didn’t have time to finish.
Effie Byler clapped her hands to direct everyone’s attention to her. “It’s time to get started.”
“What are we doing again?” someone called. Amos wasn’t sure, but he thought it was Cleon.
“Speed dating.” Effie smiled wide as if it was the best idea known to man.
“What exactly does that mean?” Amos called.
Nadine elbowed him in the ribs.
“It means we don’t spend enough time getting to know each other,” Effie explained.
“What if there’s no one here I want to date?” Nadine asked.
Amos leaned close for only her to hear. “You’re overcompensating.”
“Hush,” she said back.
“Not real dating; just talking,” Effie explained.
“Speed talking,” someone called. Amos couldn’t tell who it was.
“Hold on,” Effie returned, obviously losing her crowd. “Hold on. This is just for fun.”
“I was told there would be pie,” another man hollered. That was single males over sixty, worried about where their next home-baked dessert was coming from.
“Calm down. There is pie, but after our little exercise.”
There were grumbles all around.
But Effie persevered. She explained how the women would be sitting at the tables, and the men were to move down the line talking to each woman for five minutes only. After two rounds, they would have pie. Then go for another two rounds.
“I heard Effie’s grandson in Ohio left the Amish. Maybe that’s where she got this cockamamie idea,” Verna Yutzy grumbled to Kate Fisher. Everyone called Kate “The Widow Kate” as if she were the only one.
And he would dare to say that everyone there was a widow save him.
But if the stories that were told were true, Kate had been widowed at a very young age and never married again. She had no children and had said that the man she’d married had been the love of her life and there was no one else out there for her. Her soul mate, he believed they called it.
Kind of like someone else he knew.
He searched around the room for Nadine. Someone had set up the banquet room with two long tables pushed close to the opposite walls. The women were settling into the chairs, their backs to the walls. Nadine was sitting toward the end with Verna Yutzy on one side and Maddie Kauffman on the other.
Just perfect. She was between a dedicated single senior and the town grump.
“Why are we doing this again?” Aubie Hershberger asked him.
“Because Effie said so,” Cleon chimed in.
“Pie,” John Yoder said. “Definitely for the pie.”
“I heard Cora Ann has come up with a new chocolate caramel chess pie,” Cleon said. His eyes were lit up like the town square at Christmastime.
“Maybe she’ll have some of that,” John mused and moved away as if in preparation for what was to come.
Effie stood in the middle of the room, gave everyone a rundown once again, then blew a whistle for everyone to start.
But there were twice as many men in the group as there were women, so many men were without a “date.” It was like picking sides on softball and leaving someone out. Those men wandered around and waited for the bell to ring and signify a change in conversation partners.
Amos had never noticed the imbalance of numbers. If asked, he would have said it should be the other way around. Didn’t women live longer than men?
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Maybe it was because a woman’s work truly never ended. Most all of the men there had turned their farms over to their children. But women, no matter their age, still cooked meals, canned vegetables, planted gardens, and washed clothes. They were busier than the men perhaps, and instead of needing entertainment on Monday night, they needed a rest.
Hmm . . . he might have to ask Nadine what she thought about his theory.
Until then, Amos wondered if he might be able to sneak out to the restaurant and find his own slice of pie, but he figured if Nadine caught him, she would forget all about being a pacifist and punch him in the nose for real.
* * *
Nadine practically wilted with relief when Amos finally found his way to the chair in front of her.
“Hi,” he said. “Have we met? I’m Amos Fisher.”
“If you get up from there when she blows that whistle, I will never speak to you again.”
He seemed to think about it, and she wanted to kick him under the table, but she was a good Amish woman and kept her feet to herself.
“Fine,” she continued. “Then I won’t help you get the recipe for Charlotte’s coconut cake.”
Amos had asked Charlotte no less than three times to share the secrets of her coconut cake. Every time, she agreed, with the stipulation that he could not share it with Esther Fitch. He promised nine ways to Sunday, but each time passed without him actually getting his hands on the list of ingredients.
“Okay,” Amos said, but he was grinning like the cat who had eaten the canary. “Has it been that bad?”
“Aubie Hershberger came by and talked for two rounds about fishing. I think he was hinting. Then Dale Esh came by and wanted to know if I would go fishing with him and so did Cleon. It’s way past break time.”
“I believe Effie is hoping that the event is so successful that no one cares about the time limits.”
Nadine sat back in her seat and crossed her arms. “I care. I mean, what’s up with Aubie? Isn’t he—?” She motioned her head to one side. The side where Verna Yutzy was sitting.
Amos leaned closer and cupped one hand over his mouth. “I think he might be trying to make someone jealous.”
“I heard that, Amos Fisher.” Verna didn’t take her gaze from John Yoder, the man sitting in front of her.
“I’ll teach you how to fish,” John said, but his attention was centered on Nadine.
Amos’s ears turned a bit pink, but for the life of her, Nadine couldn’t figure out why. “If there’s one thing I can tell you, it’s that this little lady can fish. If she were to go fishing with you—and I’m not saying she will or should—there will be more for her to teach you than the other way around.”
“Jah?” John looked completely nonplussed as Amos’s ears continued to darken in color until they looked as if he had been working in the field on the hottest day of summer without a hat.
The way they were talking, and Amos’s obvious annoyance, made her wonder if “fishing” was a code for something more.
“She’s my fishing buddy,” Amos said. “And she fishes with me.”
Nadine didn’t know whether to be grateful or completely tell Amos off. His emphatic words definitely put a stamp on her that told all of the men in the room to stay away. And it was all of them. Everyone had stopped, and all were listening in on the conversation taking place between the four of them. Three, really, seeing as how Verna had scooted her chair away as far as possible without sitting completely in Mabel Ebersol’s lap.
Who did he think he was, telling Nadine who she could fish with and who she could not?
But with so many eyes watching, she bit her tongue. That conversation—whatever her decision would be—was better saved for a time when they were alone.
* * *
“You know everyone is talking about it right now. They went home to their families and started telling about how you practically put a sign around my neck warning others not to talk to me.”
“Not all the others,” Amos said. The rat even managed a sly grin. “Just the men.”
“You had no right to do that. We’re just friends.”
“That’s right.”
“So cut it out.”
“Tell me, Nadine, why are you so angry? Is it because I told other men to leave you alone?” he asked. “I don’t know how many times you’ve told me that you don’t want to get married again. After tonight, any would-be suitors will think twice before asking you on a date. You should be thanking me.”
“Well, I’m not.”
“What’s all the racket out here?” Charlotte came to the door. In her arms, she held the cutest little golden ball of fur Nadine had ever seen, but she wasn’t in the mood to gush over a puppy.
Then the truth hit her. “Where did you get that?”
“It’s one of Obie Brenneman’s pups. Isn’t she adorable?”
Yes, she was, but Nadine had other concerns on her mind. “Why did you get a dog?” And why didn’t you talk to me about it?
“I told you: protection.”
“That fluff puff isn’t going to protect us from mice.” Protection, my foot! This was about loneliness. But Nadine wasn’t going to sit at home just because Charlotte chose to. Charlotte needed to get out more, but telling her that would serve no purpose.
“Mice.” Amos chuckled.
Nadine rounded on him. “I think you should go home, Amos Fisher. And you have lights on your tractor, so get.”
“As you wish,” he said and started his tractor. “Tomorrow night?” he asked. But he was looking at Charlotte, not Nadine.
“Of course.”
“Tomorrow night what?” Nadine asked. Why did it feel as if, once again, her life was slipping out of her control?
“Amos is going to bring over his kettle pot, and we’re going to fry up those fish.”
“Are you serious?” Nadine screeched. She sounded like a banshee, crazy and wild. It was something she didn’t like in herself, but she seemed powerless to stop it.
“You know it.” Amos waved and chugged down the lane.
“A fish fry. Tomorrow? And you don’t ask me? A dog? You don’t ask me about that either? Ugh!” She didn’t allow Charlotte time to answer. Instead, she slammed into the house and went straight to her room. Some fun evening this had turned out to be.
* * *
A knock sounded on her door early the next morning.
“Come in,” Nadine called, pushing herself up to a sitting position but not getting out of bed. This was going to be one of those days, and she wasn’t sure she was ready to face it yet.
“I brought you some coffee,” Charlotte said in an almost cooing, apologetic voice. She set the coffee on the nightstand next to the bed and eased into the armchair in the corner.
Nadine looked at the coffee and grunted. It seemed Charlotte remembered how she took her coffee—lots of cream and lots of sugar. Nadine had been trying to cut back these past couple of months—on the cream and sugar, not necessarily the coffee—but now was not a good time for another change. She took a sip to test the temperature, then gave Charlotte a nod of thanks. “Where’s the dog?”
“Goldie is out back on a lead. I thought you and I might need to talk without the distraction.”
Distraction was right. The poor thing had cried all night, whining and howling and generally keeping everyone awake.
“Ah.”
“I know you don’t like her, but she had a rough first night. That’s all it was. Tonight will be completely different.”
Of course it will. But Nadine swallowed back those sarcastic words. She was in a mood, that was for sure, but she shouldn’t be taking it out on Charlotte. It wasn’t all her fault. Some of the blame lay with Amos and his big announcement last night. How much belonged to whom was another matter entirely.
“It’s not that I don’t like the dog,” Nadine finally said. “I don’t like that you brought her into our home without consulting me.”
Charlotte shook her head. “I
would feel better having a dog around. In case of intruders.”
“We’ve lived here almost a year, and this is the first time that I’ve heard about any intruders. What has you frightened all of a sudden? Did something happen?”
Charlotte paused, swallowed hard, then shook her head. “You can say all you want that there’s nothing between you and Amos, but that last night . . .”
“That was an argument, and as far as I’m concerned, if I never see Amos Fisher again, it will be too soon.” But her stomach dropped as she said the words. Must be the coffee. Charlotte had added a little too much sugar that was all.
“He’s coming over tonight.”
“About this fish fry,” Nadine started. “When did the two of you plan this?”
“When he was cleaning the fish.”
“And I was taking a bath.” Washing the pond water off and doctoring the cut on her leg that still smarted, even this morning.
“Don’t you think you should have let me help make that decision?”
Tears welled in Charlotte’s eyes. “Why is it bad? You caught the fish. At least that’s what he said. And I thought you would have a good time having a fish fry with the whole family.”
That was Charlotte—once she got an idea, she ran with it, not caring what anyone else might think or feel. “The whole family?”
“I invited the Kings and the Lamberts.”
Nadine sighed.
“I couldn’t very well go over there and invite Jenna without including Buddy. And if I invited Buddy, I had to invite Titus and Abbie.”
“And if you invited Titus and Abbie, you had to invite Priscilla and Emmanuel.”
“Jah.”
They sat in silence for a moment. Then Nadine spoke. “I’m not mad. I’m just surprised is all. A lot happened at the seniors’ meeting last night, and I may have overreacted. I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry too.”
Another moment of silence descended between them.
“Goldie, huh?”
Charlotte smiled. “She really is a good dog. Why don’t you get dressed and come downstairs? I’ll make you some pancakes, and you can meet her proper.”
“Deal.”
Forty-five minutes later, Nadine was staring at the mass of broken stems, tangled roots, and bruised flower petals that had once been a beautiful crop of daisies mixed with colorful Indian paintbrushes.
