“I can't tonight, I'm sorry. Ada has the bishop and his fraa coming for the evening meal. It's a good chance for me to meet him before the meeting on Sunday.”
“Jah, quite right.” Wilma turned back and put the kettle on the stove.
Then she sat down with them. “Tell me, what have you been doing today?”
“I wanted to get a few things. Florence has been so kind as to show me around the markets.”
“Oh, that's good. Is that all you did?”
Florence could tell Wilma liked Ezekiel by the way she was talking. “We also had lunch at one of the cafes and I think that's all.” Wilma’s obvious approval made Florence more comfortable with him. Now she felt like she was one half of a couple. It was a nice feeling to have. “Where is everyone?” Florence noticed the absence of Favor and Hope.
“I've got them working upstairs cleaning the windows.”
“That's good. Does that mean everything on the list is finished?”
“All the cooking that needed to be done has been done. And we can always do more after dinner if the girls come home and tell us they’re short of something.”
“Of course.”
“Sounds like you've got a highly organized team here, Wilma.”
“We have to be highly organized. Otherwise nothing would get done,” Wilma said.
“That's right.” Florence agreed. “The girls would just stand around talking to each other and laughing all the daylong if we didn’t have a plan and a routine to follow.”
“It’s good that they all get along so well.”
Florence and Mamm exchanged smiles. “Most of the time they do,” Florence said.
Once he had finished his coffee, Ezekiel was ready to leave. Florence walked him out to his buggy. As she stood watching him drive away, she realized if she’d written down a list of the qualities she needed in a man, he would’ve fulfilled every one of them.
Chapter 8
Now that her big day with Ezekiel was over, Florence figured she had about twenty minutes of daylight left. She walked back into the house, took hold of her warm hand-knitted shawl, threw it around her shoulders, and then skipped down the porch steps. It had been a big day with Ezekiel and she’d enjoyed it, but at the same time being with one person all day had been a little overwhelming.
When she reached the first row of trees, the soft outline of the moon had already appeared in the pale gray sky. As she walked between the rows of apple trees, many scenarios about her potential future with Ezekiel played out in her mind. Then her thoughts turned to her parents. What guidance would they have given if they’d been alive?
“Florence.”
Florence was jolted from her daydreams. It was Carter’s voice. She was nearly at the border of her property and his.
“Hello,” she called out to him as he leaned on the wooden fence post that held five strands of wire to keep his cattle on his side of the property line.
“How are you?”
“Fine.” She walked closer, knowing he wanted to talk.
When she was a few feet away, he began, “I was sitting in my kitchen—my new kitchen—and when I looked out the window I saw you.”
She frowned when he stopped at that. “You saw me where?”
“In a buggy. But, it wasn’t your buggy. I know the two horses you use and it wasn’t either of those. A man was driving it, which also led me to the conclusion it wasn’t your buggy.”
“Ah, that would've been Ezekiel.”
He stood up straight, and now one hand rested lightly atop the post.
She wished he wasn’t so handsome. Even in old jeans and a pullover he looked good. His hair had been cut short—which, she noted in her musings, particularly suited him.
“A friend of yours?”
“Yes. A new friend. He’s a farmer.”
“What kind of a farm does he have?”
She had been so hoping he wouldn’t ask that question. “A pig farm.”
“He’s hardly suited to be your friend since you don’t have any pigs. Does he have anything to do with apples?”
“I don’t think so, apart from liking to eat them. I met him recently.”
“Yes, you said that already.”
“He’s from another community. It’s not too far away.”
He slowly nodded while not taking his eyes from hers. “Are you going to marry this man who spends his day with pigs?”
She tried not to laugh at the expression on his face. It was half disgust and half shock. “It’s a bit soon to think about things like that.”
His eyebrows rose. “Is it? One of your sisters married someone not too long ago and then there’s Honor, the escapee. We both know she fled the scene when she wasn’t allowed to marry the man she loves. Even though he was a jerk, I’m sure her feelings were real.”
Secretly she was pleased he held the same opinion of Jonathon as her own. “It wasn’t that she 'wasn’t allowed.' She will be allowed when she’s older.”
“I’m not talking about them, I’m talking about you.” He shook his head. “Tell me you’re not in love with a pig farmer.” His lips were open just slightly as though he was about to say something else.
Was he jealous? It didn’t matter. It couldn’t matter. There was no point stringing him along. She could never be with a man like him, so whatever was between them had to stop. This seemed like a Gott-given opportunity to end their friendship in case it developed into more. “Who knows? I might end up marrying him. We’re very similar in many ways.”
He tilted his head to one side. “How so?”
"He works with his family on his farm just as I work with my family on the orchard. His farm is as important to him as my orchard is to me.”
“And that’s a basis for marriage? If that were the case you’d be suited to every unmarried farmer in the whole countryside and beyond.”
“Well … he’s Amish, too.”
He ignored that comment, which was—in all honesty—her main point, and looked over at his cows placidly eating their hay. “How can someone be around animals and then slaughter them for food?” He shook his head and looked down.
“He treats his pigs humanely. They wander the fields and …”
He raised his hand to stop her there. “I’d rather not think about it.”
“It’s because you’re from the city. If you’d been raised in the country, you wouldn’t think twice about it. It seems you city-folk don’t even know where your food comes from. You wouldn’t survive a day if you were suddenly thrust into the wilds of a forest.”
He pressed his lips together hard. “How would it work if you married him? Would you have to be subservient and leave your apple trees?”
That was a concern. It would’ve been much easier to find a man in her area, so if she couldn’t live on the land of the orchard, she’d maybe still have the chance to be there every day. “If it’s God’s will, He’ll work things out.”
“You’re leaving your future to chance?”
From his comment, and from his aghast expression, she knew he had no belief whatsoever in God. Her mouth opened, and then she closed it. She had words, but they were many and all jumbled up, and there was no point getting into a discussion with him. He was too opinionated and, she guessed, narrow-minded.
Then he waved a hand in the air dismissing their previous conversation. “All that aside, why have you been avoiding me?”
Chapter 9
“I haven’t been avoiding you.” Her tongue made the denial before she had a chance to realize she wasn’t being honest.
“I never see you anymore.”
Feeling she was choking, she loosened her prayer kapp strings underneath her chin. “I’ve been busy.”
“With what?” he shot back.
“Oh, just the usual things that need to be done around the place.” He often talked about them having no man there, so she used that. “As you know there’s no man around the house, so I’m the one who has to do all the odd jobs and
there are a lot of those.”
He grinned, softening his face and, she hoped, his mood too. “Is there anything you can’t do?”
She relaxed a little. “There are many things I can’t do.”
“But I’d reckon you’d learn pretty quickly if the need arose. I can see a lot of determination in the startling depths of those blue eyes.”
Another compliment. It pleased her, but she wasn’t going to allow him to see it. “What have you been doing lately?” She hoped she’d find out about that woman she'd seen there the other day. Nodding toward his house, she added, “Have you done any more renovations?”
“After talking to you about that, I decided to put things on hold. I agree with you about keeping the old character of the place. They say every house has a soul and each person who lives in it contributes a little piece of themselves.”
Slowly, she nodded at his ramblings. That ruled out the woman being any kind of consultant for the renovations, or an interior designer. “What part of yourself have you contributed?”
He chuckled. “I’ve added some soul of the city. Physically, a little bit of modernization, and in turn it’s breathed new life into it so it can keep breathing new life.”
She frowned wondering if that made sense. He's adding physical things and calls that a soul?
“How’s your wayward sister?” he asked, before she could respond about his house.
Florence giggled. “Which one?”
“The one that was sent away in disgrace. Not the runaway.”
“Oh, Cherish—she’s fine, I think. She writes to Mom every other day, pleading to come home.”
The smile left his face. “That’s heart-breaking.”
“No, it’s not!” She shook her head. “If you knew her you wouldn’t think so.”
“It seems harsh. Why can’t the girl come home if she’s having such a miserable time?”
“She did some things she shouldn’t have done and would’ve gotten herself into big trouble if we didn’t do something drastic. She tried to run away. It seems she had a crush on the same man as Honor and she was on her way to find him.”
He threw his head back and laughed. “You’ve had two runaways?”
“We have.”
“It must’ve been a hard decision—which one to send away. The thing you must be concerned about, though, is why they don’t want to stay.”
Her fingertips flew to her mouth. She’d never considered that. Was home-life so dreadful for her sisters they saw marriage as their only escape? “There’s a simple answer. They want to grow up too fast. Oh, and something else you don’t know. Jonathon is back and he’s apologized.”
“That’s the one I met when I drove you to get Honor?”
Florence nodded.
“Just like that, everything’s okay? He’s been forgiven, just like that?”
When Florence nodded, confusion covered his face and she was pleased that he felt the same as she. “Well, my mother has now said they can marry when she turns eighteen. They have to wait nearly a year.”
He shook his head. “Is that your stepmother?”
She nodded. “Yes, that’s right.”
“Hmmm. Seems odd that she’d reward them for what they did.”
“It’s not like that. She figures when Honor’s eighteen, she won’t be able to stand in their way so it's better to give her blessing, with that limitation. By telling them they’re approved of, they won’t feel the need to run away again. At least, I’m sure that’s what she’s thinking.”
“How old were you when your mother died? If you don’t mind me asking.”
“I was only two, and she died from heart inflammation caused by some kind of virus. My father was left with me and my two older brothers.”
“I’m sorry. That’s terribly sad.”
“I don’t remember much about her, which is also sad. Two years later, my father married Wilma.”
“And they went on to have six girls together,” he said.
“That’s right. I remember I was pleased to have a mother because I wanted to be carried all the time.” She smiled at the hazy memory. “Wilma carried me around on her hip and that kept me happy.”
He smiled as he once again leaned on the wooden fencepost. “She wouldn’t have been able to carry you for long though, because those bonnet sisters would’ve been arriving thick and fast if there are six of them.”
“Don’t call us that.”
“I was calling them that, not you.”
She sighed.
“Okay. I’m sorry.”
She realized it was happening again. He was making her talk about herself and she still didn’t know anything about him. “You haven’t told me anything about your family.”
The smile left his face and he took his arm off the fence. “There’s nothing to tell.”
“Oh really? So, you just appeared in the vegetable patch one dark and stormy night? Maybe a beanstalk dropped you?”
“That’s right. Dropped me from a great height and I landed on my head.” He tapped his head with his knuckles.
She giggled, and then said, “Seriously, Carter, tell me about your family. I’ve told you lots about mine.”
He shrugged his shoulders and then his lips slightly curved upward. “Okay, I’ve got nothing to hide. I was an only child and never saw much of my parents. I told you that before.”
“I don’t think so. You only said you were by yourself and that could mean many things. Anyway, why didn’t you see much of your parents?”
“It’s a long story.” He grinned. “I might even tell you about it one day.”
“There’s a saying that I like. Never put off till tomorrow what you can do today.”
He ran a hand over his cropped dark hair. “I don’t want to bore you.”
“Unfair. You know everything about me and I know very little about you.”
His eyebrows raised. “You’d like to know more about me?”
“Well, you live next door and we’re neighbors, so yes. I’d like to know who’s living in the house my father once owned.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Do you have a job?”
“Not a job as such. It’s difficult to explain.”
“I’m sure I’ll understand. I do read the newspapers sometimes. I’m not totally cut-off from what’s happening in the world. I know there are jobs people do off-site without turning up to an office every day.” She took a stab in the dark. “Do you do something from home on your computer?” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw movement. A car was coming up his driveway. He looked around and saw it too.
“I have a visitor, it seems,” he mumbled, looking none too happy to see the car.
Florence stared at the car’s occupant. She was certain it was the same woman from the other day. “A member of your family?”
“No. Excuse me, Florence, I’ll have to speak with her.”
“Sure. That’s fine.”
He took two steps away and then swung around. “Will you come back tomorrow?”
She shrugged her shoulders. “I walk most days. It just depends which way I go.” He kept glancing over his shoulder, preoccupied rather than listening to her. “Bye, Carter.”
He faced her and gave her a quick smile. “Bye, Florence.”
She walked back to the safety of her apple trees grumbling about the bad timing of that woman. He’d been just about to tell her what he did for a living. When she reached the first tree, she looked back. The woman was out of the car and they were talking. He said something to her and then they walked into the house. If she wasn’t someone to do with his renovations, and she wasn’t a relative ... hmmm ...someone from his work, perhaps?
Chapter 10
Meanwhile, Joy and Honor were driving home from the markets in the buggy.
“I think I forgot to ask Florence if Isaac can come to dinner tonight.”
“It’ll be fine. I can't see why it wouldn't be. I won't be there, so there’ll be
one less place at the table.” She giggled. “One less mouth to feed.”
“Where are you going?”
“Out with Jonathon. Where else would I go?”
“Do Florence or Mamm know that?”
“I'm not sure. I told Mamm, but I never know if she's paying attention. Why? Do you think Florence will mind?”
“It's hard to say. I don't know what she'll be mad at any more. I don't think she's ever been mad at me.” Joy giggled.
“That's because you always do what they want you to do.”
“No, I do what I want to do and it just so happens to be that they don't mind me doing that.”
“You wouldn't do anything wrong anyway. So no one will ever be upset with you.”
“Good. Because that's the way I like it. Why would I want to upset anyone?”
Honor shook her head. “Don't worry. There are some things that you just don't understand.”
“What kind of things?”
“The kind of things like, how it feels to be in love.”
“I like Isaac a lot.”
“Jah, but are you in love with him?”
“You were the one who said I was earlier today. How would I know the difference?”
“If you have to ask that you're not in love with him.”
“How can you say that? You don't know what's in my heart.”
“Sounds like you could live without him. That means it’s not the same love that Jonathon and I have. Ours is so strong.”
Joy didn't want to get into an argument over whose relationship was better, so she changed the subject. “What do you think about Ezekiel?”
“I think he's lovely. He’ll suit Florence fine.”
“But what’ll happen if Florence leaves? We need her around. Mamm needs her, everyone needs her. She runs the place.”
A Simple Kiss (The Amish Bonnet Sisters Book 3) Page 5
