Then she’d found out that Katie had just been pretending to care about them. She’d never intended to go to trade school with Holly. She’d never intended to one day be roommates like she’d promised. She’d never intended to ever fall in love with Brandon.
No, she was Amish.
To Holly’s dismay, Brandon still carried a torch for Katie. And now she was the only person he wanted to see. So Holly was swallowing her pride and doing everything she could to contact Katie.
Even though, really, Holly couldn’t care less whether she ever saw Katie again. She didn’t appreciate being used.
As the machines clicked and sighed around her brother, Holly nodded to the nurse on duty, then walked to the hospital’s front lobby and posted the letter.
The irony of the address didn’t escape her. The truth was, even though she’d felt she had become best friends with Katie, the fact remained that really, she hadn’t known her very well at all. She didn’t know where she lived, only that she shopped at the McClusky General Store.
Oh, and that Katie had lied to them all. About who she was and what her dreams were. About who she loved and what she wanted to be.
As Holly watched the envelope slide down the glass mail slot, she wondered what Katie would do when she saw it. Not wanting to put Brandon’s news in the letter, Holly had asked Katie to meet her at the Brown Dog Café. Part of her hoped Katie would ignore the note.
But even though Holly wished that, she hoped and prayed that Katie would rush to Brandon’s side. He wanted to see her. He needed to see Katie.
And so, Holly knew she would do whatever it took to give him what he wanted. Even reaching out to the girl she’d hoped to never see again.
Chapter 3
“I know my brother Jonathan’s intentions are true. They are without reproach, and without any ulterior motives. Katie’s presence is surely needed.”
With a sense of alarm, Katie looked at her mother, who was busy frying chicken. Beside her Anna was peeling potatoes. She, herself, was rolling out pie crust. Winnie was pressing some napkins for the evening’s meal at the inn.
Though the tasks were mundane and their hands busy and useful, the conversation certainly was not. It seemed to bump along and halt like a wheel stuck in a rut, stopping and starting in rough movements.
Anna looked so ill at ease that she’d most likely peeled more potatoes than they would need over the coming week.
Katie felt her own nerves being pulled as the silence stretched on. “Mamm?” she said. “Did you hear?”
“Ach. Yes.” With a frown, her mother glanced up from the frying pan. “Things are not as simple as you make them seem, Winnie.”
“Sometimes they are,” Winnie fired back. She placed the hot iron she’d been using back in its holder. Chin up, she looked at them all, her light blue eyes shining, the perfect contrast to her dark-as-night brows and hair. “I think you may be making things too difficult. Jonathan and I need help. That is all. We need another pair of hands.”
“You are not asking for only our hands, Winnie. You are asking Katie to live with you.”
Katie’s cheeks heated. She knew that tone in her mother’s voice. It plainly said her patience was wearing thin and to tread lightly.
It was obvious Winnie heard no such warning. Still ignoring her pile of ironing, she crossed her arms over her chest. “I thought your offers of assistance were genuine when Sarah passed on.”
Anna groaned and grabbed another potato.
Katie sucked in a breath. Winnie’s words were mighty harsh. Of course all of the Brennemans had offered to help back at Sarah’s funeral. But helping when they were able and her living with Jonathan were two different things.
“My offer was indeed genuine, Winnie,” Mamm said quietly. “I have helped your family out time and again over the last year and a half.”
Katie kept her head down, concentrating on fluting the pie crust’s edges. Oh, her mother was in a fine state. Winnie shouldn’t push so.
But still, she did. “It would just be for two months. Let’s see, it’s the first of November now. In two months, it will be the beginning of January.” She pointed to the frosty windowpane, evidence that the weather outside was finally getting colder. “What’s two months, after all? The spring crocuses won’t even have started to bloom.”
“Two months can be a long time if it’s the wrong situation.”
“I’ve waited a long time to meet the right man,” Winnie said.
Katie’s mother clucked. “You will find the right man sooner or later.”
Winnie nibbled on a bottom lip. “None of the boys I talked to at singings interested me. No one since, either. Before long, I’m going to be en altmaedel.”
Katie chuckled in spite of the serious conversation. “You are not an old maid, Winnie. You are hardly more than two years older than me.”
“You can’t deny it has been a long time since we used to look forward to our Sunday singings. We are not so young anymore.”
Katie did remember how much fun she and Winnie used to have together. They’d go to the singings on Sunday evenings, eager to meet other teenagers. Eager to find a special boy.
Unfortunately, neither ever had found anyone special. As the years passed and they attended other friends’ weddings, they’d begun to drift apart.
“I feel like an old maid, and that is the truth,” Winnie proclaimed. Turning to Katie’s mother again, she said, “Are you worried about the girls? Mary can be a handful, but she’s a sweet girl at heart.”
“It’s not the children that concern me, Winnie.”
“Then what?” Winnie turned to Anna. “What do you think? This is my time to actually meet Malcolm. I figured you, if no one else, would understand the obstacles I am facing. It is hard to learn about someone from mere letters.”
Anna blushed but said nothing. Only the potato peels flying onto the counter at a frantic pace gave notice to her discomfort.
Words warred inside of Katie. She yearned to push her mother to give in. To let her live with the Lundys. But, she didn’t like how Winnie was pressing them, either. Guilt and obligation didn’t make a fitting pair.
Once all the chicken was drying on a copy of the Budget, her mother sighed. “Tell me about this young man you are writing to.”
“He’s a Troyer. Malcolm’s great-grandmother was Ruth Troyer. Do you know of the family?”
Grudgingly, her mother nodded. “I do. They’re good stock.”
“I knew it.” Winnie’s smile, with those perfect dimples, lit up the room. “I could tell from the way he described his family that they were people I would like to know and would get along with.”
“Now, I didn’t say that, Winnie.”
Winnie waved a hand dismissively. “You’ve said enough. Besides, I know Malcolm quite well now. We’ve been corresponding for some time.”
“Letters don’t always tell what matters about a person,” Anna interrupted. “It’s hard to get a real sense of what a person is like from just a few words, or even a few meetings.”
“Malcolm’s letters are more than brief messages,” Winnie replied. “They’re truly thoughtful notes revealing his heart and soul.”
Katie bit her lip as she noticed Anna and her mother exchange amused glances.
Seemingly encouraged, Winnie continued. “Our notes to each other are personal and heartfelt. Like there’s something between us that’s special.” She glanced toward Anna, and then finally to Katie. “You both know what that’s like, don’tcha?”
“I do,” Anna answered as a faint blush stained her cheeks. “Henry and I have written a few notes to each other.”
This was news to Katie. “When did my brother write to you?”
“When we were apart.” Turning to Winnie, Anna said, “But, Winnie, I must say that nothing takes the place of conversations face-to-face. Whenever Henry is pleased, he gets this crease in between his brows. Now I know when he’s tired because he will favor his right leg a bit.”
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“It never did heal up right after that horse kicked him,” Katie’s mother commented.
Anna’s expression became tender. “Now that Henry and I have gotten to know each other better, I know he and I will make each other happy when we are married. Because we’ve taken the time to get to know each other better. I…I’ve never felt this way before.”
Winnie flicked a snowy white cloth in the air to snap it open. “See, Mrs. Brenneman? I need to be near Malcolm. I need the time with him, face-to-face.”
“I hear what you are saying.”
Winnie turned to Katie. “What about you? Have you ever been in love?”
Katie jabbed another pie crust with a fork. “You know I’m not courtin’ anyone.” Her words exposed everything she’d always wanted to hide deep inside of her. Frustration, wistfulness. Regret.
But Winnie, too intent on her own problems, didn’t take notice. “Not even during the singings? Or afterward? I seem to remember you spent quite a bit of time out and about during your rum—”
“No,” Katie said quickly, cutting Winnie off before she could say a thing about Katie’s running-around years. Of her rumspringa.
Katie hated to be reminded of that time. Of the things she’d done. Primly, she put a stop to Winnie’s sly insinuations. “Everyone experiments a bit during their running-around years. I did nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing.”
Winnie looked at her in surprise. “I didn’t say you did.”
“I was baptized and joined the church in June, you know.”
“I know.” With a half smile, Winnie said, “I was there, remember?”
Just as Katie began to think that perhaps all talk of her past was behind her, Winnie pressed again. “But what about your time among the English?” she pressed, her voice light and full of mirth. “Tell us the truth. Didn’t you ever find an English boy attractive?”
Katie felt all three pairs of eyes turn her way, capturing her with direct stares. Her mother’s regard felt hot, like Winnie’s forgotten iron, searing the layers of lies she’d cloaked over herself. Anna merely looked curious.
She shifted uncomfortably and stayed focused on the poor pie shell, which had done nothing to deserve her harsh treatment with the fork.
“Do you intend to answer, Katie?” Winnie asked.
“There was no one special.”
Winnie raised a brow. “Indeed? I could have sworn I heard you keeping company with a certain Englischer with raven black hair. A terribly handsome English boy.”
“That is just gossip, of course,” Katie said quickly. Afraid to lie and bring her past sins into the present, she added, “I’m happy to be among the Amish. This is where I belong.”
“We all realize that, Katie.” With a snap of a freshly starched napkin, Winnie closed her trap. “Since there’s no one keeping you, and you’re so happy and all, won’t you please consider helping Jonathan and me, then? I’ve never had my chance for love, what with Sarah passing on at such a young age.”
“The decision was never mine, it was my parents’.”
Unperturbed, Winnie turned to her mother. “Okay, then. Mrs. Brenneman, will you and John please reconsider? The girls would be truly happy to have Katie’s company, and her presence would solve a fair amount of problems for both Jonathan and me.” She paused. “He has been working very hard at the lumber factory. It is a good job. He can’t afford to miss any time off work.”
“I am glad he is doing so well at the lumberyard. And I do understand that he can not take days off to tend to the girls.”
Anna bit her lip and looked down when Katie tried to catch her eye.
Winnie seemed to take the moment as a good sign. “Please?”
“I’ll talk to John,” her mother finally said, breaking the silence. “Perhaps we can come to some agreement, after all.”
Cheeks as rosy as a spring day, Winnie beamed. “Danke.” She turned to Katie. “And, thank you, too, Katie. There’s no one else I would trust to care for the girls.” Setting down the iron again, she said, “I’ll write to Malcolm today and tell them that there is still hope.”
“Nothing is decided, Winnie.”
“But nothing is not decided, either.” Moments later, Winnie Lundy left them, twenty napkins neatly pressed, but at least half that many more left to do.
Irritation sliced through Katie as she glared at the chore. Surely the least she could have done was finish what she started! Oh, that was so like Winnie—determined and scatterbrained. More than one teacher had said it was a regrettable combination. “Well, now I must finish Winnie’s chore.”
“That girl doesn’t give up, does she?” Anna said with a laugh. “I thought she was going to start digging her heels right through the wood floor.”
Her mother chuckled. “She never was one to give up. Not even in a blue moon.” Crossing the kitchen, her mother sneaked up behind Katie and gave her a squeeze. “I’ll make everything all right, dear Daughter. Don’t fret.”
As always, her mother’s touch made her feel better. “I won’t.”
“Gut. Now you two finish dinner preparations. I’m going to go check on things in the front parlor. This latest batch of visitors is a handful, I’ll tell you that.” She bustled out of the kitchen.
When they were alone, Anna looked at Katie with concern in her eyes. “Katie, are you okay?”
She did not feel okay at all. Instead she felt dizzy and flushed, like she’d been bent over too long picking beans from the garden. “Jah. Sure. Why?”
“Oh, I don’t know. It just seems that you’re not as happy as I thought you’d be.” Softly, she said, “I thought you liked Jonathan.”
“I do.”
“Then why aren’t you happier? You heard your mother. You’re about to get what you want.”
She was happy. But how could she admit all her insecurities to someone like Anna, who had experienced so much and now was just months away from marriage? “It’s…it’s just that Winnie and her bossy nature is vexing. We used to be such good friends.” Picking up a dishcloth, she bent and swiped up a bit of flour that had fallen to the wooden floor. “I don’t remember her always being so pushy. It’s like she doesn’t even want to listen to anyone but herself.”
“She does sound desperate,” Anna agreed. “But maybe it’s just because she finally feels like it’s her time for love and she’s afraid to let the moment slip by.” Moving across the kitchen to Katie’s side, Anna picked up Katie’s finished pie shell and carried it to the oven. “I bet she’s still the same person you always knew underneath. Sometimes circumstances can change a person, you know?”
“I know.”
Taking two bowls to the sink, Anna said, “Actually you are the one who sounds strange. Ever since I’ve known you, you’ve had an eye on Jonathan Lundy. Now, though, you seem far more wary of him. Did something happen between the two of you?”
“No. Nothing has ever happened.” Or was ever likely to.
Of course, that was the problem. Longingly, Katie looked toward the door. Oh, how she wanted to get away from everyone, for just a little while.
“Well, then, are you embarrassed around Winnie? Do you think she knows about your feelings for her brother?”
“No,” Katie said. She wished that Anna would just stop. Stop. Her feelings for Jonathan were too mixed up. Especially now.
“If you were embarrassed, I’d understand. It’s hard admitting to having a fancy for someone’s brother.”
“I don’t fancy him, Anna.” The words came out harsher than she intended, but for the life of her, Katie wouldn’t take them back. She was tired of being seen as only a silly girl. She was more than that. Why, if everyone only knew the things she’d done…
They would be mighty surprised, for sure.
Eyes wide, Anna stepped back. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to press.”
Katie was sorry for her words, too. But she didn’t feel like apologizing. Yet, she knew she must. “I’m the one who is sorry, Anna. Please for
give my sharp words.”
Green eyes blinked. “Is there anything that I can help you with?”
“No.”
“Is it me? Does my being here bother you?”
Finally she could speak the truth about something. “No, Anna. Your being here is wonderful gut. Truly. Now let’s do what we’re supposed to do, jah? We have to finish preparing dinner, cleaning the kitchen, and ironing napkins, just like Maam said.”
Anna chuckled. “I’ll finish up those napkins, Katie.”
Later that day, after they’d served dinner, the kitchen had been cleaned and the animals tended to, after her father had read from the Bible and they all said good night, Katie was alone with only little Roman for company, snug in his basket with his favorite blanket that he liked to chew.
Carefully she opened the chest of drawers and pulled out a box from her past. A fancy papered box left from her time with the English. Like a fugitive, she’d smuggled it into the house, deathly afraid her mother would find it. Would ask why such a gaudy piece of work was in her possession.
Katie couldn’t rightly say. All she did know was that she couldn’t bear to part with the memories.
Not even the bad ones.
With a furtive glance toward the door, Katie carried the box to her bed and settled in. And then she lifted the lid. The heady fragrance of her secret life roared out of the enclosure like the spirit of Christmas past.
She blinked away the memories each scent envisioned.
Mint. A crushed rose. A tiny stuffed bear. Several fancy store-bought cards. With a sigh, Katie picked up the little brown bear and rubbed it against her cheek. If she closed her eyes, she could remember receiving it. Remember the joy she’d felt. The longing for things that couldn’t be.
Of things she shouldn’t want.
As if burned, Katie hastily tucked it back into the box and closed it. But still the scent lingered. Remnants of another time. A time that unfortunately wasn’t so long ago.
Wanted Page 3
