“I don’t have to worry about being pregnant,” she told him.
“You went to the doctor?” he asked, and then he reddened. “Sorry, maybe you found out another way.”
She shook her head. “I had a talk with Michael.” She closed her eyes in remembered embarrassment.
He released her hand. “I see. So he wants to marry you.”
“Nee.” She clutched her hands in her lap. “This is hard to tell you.”
“What is it? Oh, Rachel Ann, don’t tell me you’re getting an abortion.”
Shocked, she shook her head. “Abram, I feel like such a fool. I told you I had a beer that night on an empty stomach. He said I fell asleep and nothing happened. I couldn’t remember anything, so I thought the worst.”
She got to her feet and paced. “After he dropped me off at home, I managed to walk inside and crawled into bed, and when I woke up, my kapp was gone and my hair was down and I panicked.”
“Rachel Ann, calm down. It’s understandable. You’re a young, innocent maedel.”
“He made me feel stupid.” She sank down into the chair again.
“You’re not stupid.”
Silence stretched between them. The horses munched their feed. Allie, the barn cat who divided her time between the two barns, woke and strolled over to wind herself between Abram’s legs. He scratched her head absently and seemed lost in thought.
“What are you thinking?” she asked him at last.
“I have to admit I’m kind of disappointed.”
“Disappointed?”
He lifted his head and looked at her. “I wouldn’t have minded marrying you. Raising a kind together.”
Emotion welled up in her. She shook her head. “I’m not sure I could have allowed you to make such a sacrifice.”
“Don’t call it a sacrifice,” he said brusquely.
Her eyes widened.
“You’re a woman any man would want for a fraa. If I hadn’t dragged my feet maybe I’d have—” he broke off.
“You’d have what?”
“I’d have asked to date you. But then you met Michael.”
She absorbed what he’d said. What would have happened if she hadn’t just seen him as a friend and she’d traveled down a different path?
“Is it too late?” she found herself asking.
He looked at her. “Too late?”
“To see if we can be more than really good friends.”
“But what about—”
“I’m not seeing him anymore,” she said definitely. “I haven’t talked to him yet, but it’s over.”
Abram raised his eyebrows. “When did you decide this?”
Rachel Ann shrugged. “Today. It’s taken me some time, but I think I’m seeing more clearly lately. So what do you say?”
“Are you asking me if I want to date you?”
She bit back a smile. “Ya.”
“How soon can we start?”
She laughed and stood. “Why don’t we go out to supper tomorrow night?”
“It’s a date.”
11
Rachel Ann eyed the scraps of dough left after she cut out another batch of gingerbread people. There wasn’t enough left to cut out more cookies, but she had an idea.
She found some parchment paper and scissors and cut out a smaller gingerbread shape. Then she rolled out the scraps and cut out the smaller cookie with a knife. She placed them on a baking sheet and kept a careful eye on the time since the cookies were so small. After they were done and cooled, she decorated them and put them into a box.
Later, when she got to Stitches in Time, she found Naomi and presented her with the box. “I brought something for the display window.”
Naomi opened the box, looked inside, and gave her a delighted smile. “For the tea party!”
Rachel Ann watched as Naomi placed the little gingerbread cookies on a child-sized table set with teacups and plates. Amish dolls made by Leah sat around the table in one corner of the display window. Naomi had sewn a quilt in Christmas greens and reds with fat white snowflakes. Tote bags woven by Mary Katherine sat stuffed with presents wrapped in brightly colored paper. Several teddy bears wore Anna’s popular knitted baby caps, cardigan sweaters, and mittens made in festive holiday colors and patterns.
Hers was a small contribution to the window but a cute touch. Naomi made a little sign proclaiming the cookies were from the bakery and propped it on the table.
“Now there’s something from all of us in the window,” Naomi said.
Rachel Ann found an idea forming as she stared at the cookies. She put her purse and lunch tote up. There was a lull in customers—many tourists took the time for a leisurely lunch at one of the local Amish restaurants—so she hurried to the bolts of fabric to select one of brown felt.
The bolt made a clunking noise as she unfolded it on the cutting table. A couple of yards should do it, she decided as she cut what she needed. Then she picked up one of the woven shopping baskets and walked over to the notions aisle. She chose white rickrack, buttons in several colors, and fabric braid. A package of foam pillow stuffing completed her purchases.
She cut a gingerbread man shape about a foot and a half tall and a foot wide during a break, and after she ate a quick sandwich at lunch, she sewed it up on one of the shop’s sewing machines. Turning the material inside out she stuffed it and basted the small opening shut. It was fun to decorate the pillow with rickrack to look like a jacket and cute colored ball buttons to resemble gumdrop buttons, the same way she decorated gingerbread cookies.
“Why Rachel Ann, this is quite clever,” Leah said. “I had no idea you did this sort of thing.”
Startled, Rachel Ann looked up. She’d been so absorbed in sewing on shiny black buttons for eyes she hadn’t heard the older woman approach.
“I’m making it for Sam for Christmas.”
“I’d like to see you make some for the shop. They’d sell well right now, but you’re working so much . . . where would you get the time?”
“You mean it?”
Leah regarded her with kind eyes. “About liking it?”
“Ya.”
“I think it’s clever the way you combined your talent for baking with sewing. And I do think we could sell some. It’s just a shame, but I don’t think you have time to make any with the shop busy and you working two jobs.”
Rachel Ann nodded. “Maybe I can make a few on my day off.”
Leah patted her shoulder. “Just don’t wear yourself out. When you’re not working two jobs you could make them for next Christmas.”
“True.”
“You could think of other shapes, too. Maybe other storybook characters or shapes like cupcakes or something.”
Her mind whirled. “Danki for the encouragement. And the ideas.”
Leah nodded and smiled. “You have more in you than you think, kind.” A customer hailed her, and she hurried to help her.
Rachel Ann stared after her. What did she mean?
She had to set the pillow aside as customers began streaming in after their midday meals, full of Amish food and Christmas cheer. They left with shopping bags full of gifts and craft kits.
The cramps hit just before the shop closed. Rachel Ann kept what she needed in her purse during the last week or two of the month when she expected her period, so she wasn’t caught unaware. In a shop full of women, though, she knew there were emergency supplies in a cupboard in the back room.
She slipped into the bathroom with her purse and then went into the back room to take some aspirin with a glass of water. The cramps were so bad she sank into a chair and wondered if she’d get through the last half hour of work.
“Are you allrecht?” Leah asked as she walked into the room.
“Ya.” She got to her feet and tried not to wince.
“Nee, you’re not. What’s wrong?”
“It’s just cramps. I took something. I’ll be fine in a few minutes.”
“Sit, I think we could both use a cup o
f tea,” Leah said and set about making it. “Things have slowed down. Rain’s coming.”
So they sat and drank their tea, and within a few minutes they heard the patter of rain against the window.
Leah sighed. “We had a gut day. I wish the rain had held off until we got home. Oh well, God has a reason for it now.”
When they walked back into the shop Naomi and Mary Katherine were finishing up with customers. When they left, Leah locked the door. Everyone collected their things and waited by the door for their rides.
As she rode home, miserable with her cramps, Rachel Ann pressed a hand to her abdomen and wished she could be home already. She wanted to crawl into a ball under the quilts on her bed and will the cramps away.
Then she remembered she was supposed to go out to supper with Abram. She sighed. So much for starting the new direction of their relationship this evening.
* * *
Abram happened to be in the front yard when Rachel Ann came home.
Allrecht, so it wasn’t a coincidence. He knew what time she usually arrived home after work.
She saw him and waved, so he walked over.
The minute he got closer, he saw something was wrong. Her face looked pinched and pale, her eyes a little puffy as if she’d been crying.
“Are you allrecht?” he asked, mentally kicking himself. Of course she wasn’t.
“I’m sorry, Abram, but I’m not feeling well. I can’t go out with you this evening.”
He tried to hide his disappointment. “No problem. I’m sorry you’re not feeling well. Is there anything I can do?”
She shook her head. “Nee. Danki,” she added. “I just need to take some aspirin and get in bed.”
Abram nodded and walked her to her door. “Feel better. See you tomorrow.”
“’Night.”
He walked back to his house. His mother stood at the sink washing dishes. “Back already? I thought you were going out with Rachel Ann.”
“She’s not feeling well. I don’t know what’s wrong. Maybe a headache. Or a stomachache. She had her hand on her waist and looked like she’d been crying.”
“Men. So dense,” his mother said, shaking her head.
“What?”
“Think about it.”
Puzzled, he just stared at her.
“Abram, maybe it’s her time of the month.”
“Oh,” he said slowly, suddenly understanding. He felt his face flush. “Uh, should it be bothering her so much?”
“Ya, some maedels have a hard time.”
“But she’ll be allrecht tomorrow, right?”
“Maybe, maybe not.”
“Oh.” He stood there for a moment, wondering what he was going to do with a suddenly free evening. He did not want to spend it the way he always did—doing more work.
Abram walked into the living room, pawed through several issues of a farming magazine, and chose one. He threw himself into the easy chair before the fire. He thought about how his mother had teased him about not guessing why Rachel Ann didn’t feel well. Did she think unmarried men knew about such things? Especially when they didn’t have a wife or a girlfriend?
He thought about the timing of . . . Rachel Ann’s problem. If it had happened a few days earlier it would have relieved her mind so much about her fear she was pregnant. She’d also have avoided what she said had been an embarrassing talk with Michael.
So, both of them had been told they didn’t know much about certain things. Boyfriend or mother, it was a little sobering to know you didn’t know about such things.
He shrugged and tossed the magazine aside. Oh well, if his mother wasn’t teasing him about this it would be about something else because she loved to joke. They had an easy relationship where they could talk about almost anything. She even occasionally prodded him about finding a fraa. Many Amish parents kept out of their children’s lives when it came to dating. They often didn’t know their sohns or dochders were engaged until the announcement of their pending marriage was made in church.
She’d have been thrilled if she knew he’d proposed he and Rachel Ann get married. He knew his mother loved her like a daughter. And the possibility of having another grandchild? He couldn’t think of a word to express the magnitude of how she’d feel about it. She had four from his bruders and schwesders, but he knew she’d love more. The Amish loved children, and the people he knew who had grandchildren cherished them even more.
For now, it felt like he rattled around in this big house. It’s why he didn’t mind having her living here, although she spent most of her time in the dawdi haus in the rear of it.
Restless, he got up, shrugged into his jacket, and walked out onto the porch. The wind was cool, snaking down the back of his neck. A light snow had fallen all day. He pulled the collar up and wondered if the weather forecast of an unusually cold winter would prove true.
Abram glanced at Rachel Ann’s house, finding her bedroom window and noting it was dark. He hoped she was feeling better.
He made a last check of the horses and shut the barn door. Still feeling a little restless, he went back into the house, washed up the percolator and his coffee mug, and set them to drain on the counter. He knew if he didn’t do this and his mother happened to come into kitchen later in the night she’d be cleaning up in the middle of the night. The woman was obsessive about cleaning.
Finally, he went to bed and read a novel. He was usually too tired to read more than a few pages before he fell asleep. Tonight, he managed nearly forty pages before the book slipped from his hands and he fell asleep.
He woke when he heard a vehicle pull into the drive of Rachel Ann’s house before dawn. She was evidently going to work at the bakery, so he guessed she must feel better. On the other hand, Rachel Ann was a hard worker. It would take a lot to make her stay home.
As he moved through his day doing chores and working on the trinket boxes and driving his mother to a doctor’s appointment, he thought about calling Rachel Ann at the shop to find out if she wanted to go out for supper. But he remembered that his mother had said Rachel Ann might not feel well for more than a day. So he decided he would wait for her to let him know when she was ready.
He didn’t see her for two more days.
She surprised him with a visit to the barn when she came home from work. He could see she still carried her purse and lunch tote, so she hadn’t gone into her house yet.
“Feeling better?” he asked.
She nodded. “Ya, danki. Maybe we can go out for supper one evening this week. If you’re still interested, I mean.”
“Of course I’m interested. If you said let’s go now, I’d be hitching up the buggy before you could blink.”
“Really?”
He set down the cloth he’d been using to polish a finished keepsake box. “Really.”
“I’ll take your dare,” she said. “Let’s go. I’ll tell Mamm I won’t be having supper with the family, and you can hitch up your buggy.”
He grinned as she turned on her heel and started toward the barn door.
They went to a little family-style restaurant the locals patronized—Rachel Ann’s choice. “They have the best fried chicken. Don’t tell my mamm it’s better than hers.”
“I’ve eaten here,” he told her. “It’s better than my mamm’s, too.”
The place was busy for a weekday night, filled with customers who were probably going out to do Christmas shopping after work.
The hostess seated them in a booth, and they ordered fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and biscuits.
“Mmm,” Rachel Ann said, and she sighed as she wiped her fingers on a paper napkin.
“You like eating someplace like this more than somewhere fancy?”
She nodded. “I’ve never been a fancy person.”
“But I want to take you someplace nice sometime.”
“This is nice.”
“You know, the kind of place where we treat ourselves to a special meal and it feels like—” he stopped f
or words.
“Like a date,” she finished for him.
“Ya.”
“I know the kind of place you mean and it’ll be nice sometime. But this is still a treat after a long day. And it’s still our first date.”
She met his gaze and smiled, and he found himself smiling back. For a long moment, the sounds of people talking and eating around them faded away, and he felt something shift between them. They were actually making a change in their relationship.
A child wailed at a nearby table and brought them back to the present.
“So how’s work going?”
“Baking lots of Christmas cookies at the bakery and selling a lot of Christmas gifts at the shop.”
She told him about Leah’s reaction to the pillow she was making for Sam for Christmas and how she could sell some at the shop. He heard the surprise in her voice. She not only didn’t talk about it with hochmut—pride, not encouraged in their community—she seemed a little shy and insecure about the idea of selling a craft at the shop.
“You talk like this was totally unexpected.”
“The women at the shop are so talented,” she said with a tone of wonder in her voice.
“You’re talented,” he told her.
“I’m good at baking, but I’ve never been good at anything to do with sewing.”
“Maybe you’ve just never given yourself a chance.”
“You always know just what to say.”
Abram was glad the server walked up and asked if they wanted dessert, because he didn’t know what to say to her just then.
* * *
Rachel Ann filled a glass with water from the tap and swallowed two ibuprofen.
“Are you still having cramps?” her mother asked her.
“Ya.” It had been a long week. She sat at the kitchen table wishing she could skip church. She loved church, but the thought of sitting three hours on a hard bench was taking a lot of effort this morning.
Her mother set a plate of toast and a cup of coffee in front of her. “I know you’re not fond of coffee, but try some this morning. It always helped me.”
“I remember you told me you used to have bad cramps,” Rachel Ann said as she stirred some sugar into her coffee.
“Maybe it’s time to go see the doctor.”
One True Path Page 11
