“Wow, I never knew Nick was so cheap,” Katura added. “It’s a gut thing he never asked to be my suitor. I wouldn’t have abided by someone who couldn’t even treat me to supper.”
“It’s not because he’s cheap,” Lucy said protectively. “It’s because he has to work on the—” She stopped herself just in time. This wasn’t the first instance when her temper had caused her to speak rashly. She ducked into the pantry hoping to change the subject. “Do we have any paper napkins?” she asked.
“Second shelf,” Katura answered. “Nick has to work on what?”
Lucy feigned innocence. “Hmm?”
“You started to say Nick had to work on something tonight. I thought the two of you were going out.”
“We are,” Lucy insisted. “But we want to eat on the way because we’re, uh... We’re going to be on the road for a while to get to where...where we want to go—and before you ask me, I’m not going to tell you where that is. I deserve some privacy, you know.”
Now Lucy’s father emerged from the mudroom. Lucy hadn’t heard him come in. “At the risk of invading that privacy, what do you mean you’re going to be on the road for a while? It’s only flurrying out there now, but it might keep up.”
“Jah, but horses can maneuver much better in the snow than cars can.”
“Exactly. That’s why I don’t want you on the road with the cars.”
Entering the room, Betty asked, “Do you think it’s too slick for the girls to go out tonight?”
Katura, Mildred and Lucy simultaneously voiced their protests until Marvin grumpily conceded. Lucy planted a kiss on his cheek. “Denki for thinking about our safety, Daed, but we won’t take any unnecessary risks and we’re in the Lord’s care.”
Marvin hugged his daughter and replied, “Nick had better not take any unnecessary risks with you or he’ll have to answer to me.” Then he shuffled into the parlor to read while Betty began setting the table so they could eat the meal Lucy had prepared.
“Nick won’t take any risks?” Betty shook her head. “That would be a first. Unless you’ve already tamed him, Lucy.”
Lucy was indignant. “He’s not a wild horse!”
“Neh, but you’re so sensible I figured maybe some of it rubbed off on him.”
Although Lucy suspected her stepmother was giving her a compliment, once again she felt like she was being called boring. But, since she’d gotten her way about going out, she shrugged it off and went to change her cape and apron. She was so eager for Nick to arrive she waited outside so she could see his horse coming up the lane.
* * *
Nick whistled as he sped toward Lucy’s house on Friday evening, again grateful for how swiftly Penny cantered, despite the light coating of snow on the roads. After leaving work, Nick had made a quick stop at the Englisch candy shop, where he bought a box of Christmas candy for Lucy. Since she’d prepared their supper, the least he wanted to do was get her something special for dessert.
He selected an assortment of the kinds of treats they used to receive after their childhood Christmas pageants at school, including peppermint bark, Christmas tree nougats, peanut brittle, chocolate-covered orange slices and ribbon candy. The school performances traditionally included singing hymns and carols—even then Nick only mouthed the words—and reciting the Bible Nativity story from memory. Afterward, each child always received a small but treasured box of candy from their teacher and the school board.
As Nick recalled, Lucy usually had the longest passage of Scripture to recite and he even remembered one year his parents remarked what a clear voice she’d used; they were surprised someone so small could project so well. That same year, he’d witnessed two of his older friends snatch Lucy’s box of candy when she set it down on the landing near the entrance of the school so she could dash back inside to retrieve her scarf. Nick had been certain he’d be accused of taking it, since he was nearby when it happened, but he had hesitated to squeal on his friends. Upon returning, Lucy’s expression had wilted when she discovered her box missing, but apparently she never said a word about it to anyone. Or if she did, Nick never found out.
I hope she still likes peppermint bark, he thought as he spied her loitering on the porch. He halted the buggy quickly and jumped out to help her with the cumbersome basket she was carrying. Since romantic relationships were supposedly private, it wasn’t a custom for young suitors to go inside the houses of the women they were courting, but Nick wished Lucy didn’t always wait outside for him. It made him wonder if she didn’t want her father to see her in Nick’s company. Everyone knew Marvin Knepp was as upright and respected a man as could be, and Nick hoped he approved of Nick courting his daughter.
What am I thinking? I’m not courting Lucy! Nick reminded himself as he aided her into the buggy. Once they were situated, she began telling him about how she’d run into Sandra Nelson in Schrock’s Shop.
“Can you believe it?” Lucy exclaimed. “Isn’t that odd that we’re both indirectly involved with helping the Nelsons have a happy Grischtdaag celebration? Of course, I got paid for my efforts, whereas you’re doing yours out of true generosity.”
Even though he was wearing gloves, Nick reflexively wiped his palms against his lap. “You didn’t, uh, say anything to her, did you? I mean, let on you knew I was making the repairs?”
Lucy turned toward him, crinkling her forehead. “Of course not. Why would I do that? But it’s a gut thing I was there because Melinda Schrock started questioning Mrs. Nelson about whether the cabin would be ready in time. I didn’t realize Melinda knew there’d been a fire. Although I guess that shouldn’t surprise me.”
Nick’s pulse drummed like hoofbeats in his ears. “So Melinda mentioned the fire to Mrs. Nelson?”
“She started to, but don’t worry. I cut her off.” Lucy giggled. “I suddenly developed a terrific coughing fit. Melinda had to get me a cup of water, and I cornered her in the back room until Mrs. Nelson left the shop.”
Nick’s shoulders relaxed, but only a little. He wasn’t merely worried about Mrs. Nelson finding out about the fire—he was worried Lucy would learn the fire was Kevin’s fault. Melinda hadn’t been at the party that night, but by now word had probably gotten around that there’d been a fire. Granted, as long as Kevin kept his mouth shut, none of the Amish would know Nick was the one making the repairs, but Nick couldn’t allow Lucy to find out that he hadn’t been entirely forthcoming with her in the first place. What would she think of him if she knew he wasn’t really as helpful or as generous as she thought he was?
“Melinda didn’t say anything else?” he questioned.
“Neh, I didn’t even let her finish her sentence, so Mrs. Nelson’s none the wiser.” Lucy gave his arm a nudge. “Why are you being such a nervous Nellie?”
Nick released a big sigh. “I don’t know. I guess I wonder how Melinda found out about the fire, that’s all.”
“Who knows? I don’t think much gets past her,” Lucy said.
“Jah, that’s why it was perfect when we were kissing at the Planks’ haus. I mean, it was perfect Melinda was the one who saw us. It wasn’t perfect that we were kissing. I mean, there wasn’t anything wrong with our kiss, just—” The fact he’d even referenced their kissing aloud made Nick so flustered he couldn’t recover enough to complete his thought.
Fortunately, Lucy was gracious enough to say, “It’s okay, I know what you meant. Our plan worked perfectly, and I think Melinda finally accepts it that we’re courting.”
Even if we’re not, Nick thought, but he bit the inside of his cheek. He didn’t want to make a bigger fool of himself than he already had.
“Do you want to take a few minutes to eat here in the buggy?” Lucy asked when they pulled into the parking lot by the café. “I probably shouldn’t bring food inside. Besides, it’s so pretty with the snow. I always think the first snowfall is the prettiest.”
&n
bsp; “That would be wunderbaar,” Nick agreed. His stomach was rumbling. Or were those very loud butterflies?
“I hope you like yumasetta because—” Lucy stopped midsentence and pointed at the darkened building. “Look. The lights are out. It can’t be closed. It’s Friday night.”
Nick squinted. It was definitely dark inside the café. He climbed down to read the sign posted in the window. When he returned he explained, “The café is closed because they’re having a staff Grischtdaag party off-site.”
“Oh, neh,” Lucy protested. Then she suggested, “I suppose I could sit in the fast-food restaurant down the road. I think they’ll let me stay for a few hours if I buy something, won’t they?”
Nick was skeptical about the shabby little restaurant. He didn’t want to take the chance someone there might harass Lucy. “I could take you to the bookstore on the border of Highland Springs,” he suggested.
“That’s miles away. You’ll lose any time you may have saved by picking me up early.”
Nick rubbed his chin. His face felt chapped from the raw wind. Lucy was sniffling from the cold, too. “If you’re willing you could kumme to the cabin with me. I’ve cleaned up the sawdust and I only have some very light sanding to do. It’s warm inside and we can have supper there. That is, unless you’ll find the noise too distracting.”
* * *
The noise? That was the least of Lucy’s distractions. Nick’s earlier reference to their kissing had made it nearly impossible for Lucy to speak coherently all the way here, and it was still flitting through her mind. She had to keep focused.
“That sounds like a gut plan. This way, you can work as late as you need to because you won’t have to worry about the café closing at ten.” Lucy’s stomach was twirling circles. Somehow eating at the cabin with Nick felt much closer to being courted than eating in the buggy. But she reminded herself it was a far cry from him actually taking her out for supper, as Katura had indirectly pointed out.
“Great. Just one more dilemma,” Nick said. “I can either keep Penny to an even trot, in which case, we might be cold by the time we get there because it will take longer. Or, I can push her to a run, in which case we’ll get there faster but we’ll definitely be colder along the way from the breeze. Which do you prefer?”
“Do you really have to ask?”
Grinning, Nick pushed his hat farther down on his head and lifted the reins. And then they were sailing, their momentum matching the elation of Lucy’s mood. With the snow falling around them the scenery was so pristine and romantic Lucy felt like she was dreaming. Only this was better, because she wasn’t.
At the house Nick switched on the lights. “I don’t like to turn up their heat when I’m here, but I’m happy to build a fire.”
“Great,” Lucy said. “While you’re doing that, I’ll get our supper ready. How about if we eat here on the floor in front of the fireplace? I’m chilly.”
“It will be like a picnic,” Nick agreed.
He made the room cozy warm in no time and then removed two oversize pillows from the sofa for Lucy and him to sit on. She asked him to say grace and when he was finished, she served him a heaping plate of yumasetta. Whatever awkwardness she had felt earlier dissipated as she dug into the hot meal. She was finishing her second helping of the meaty casserole and her third roll when Nick laughed.
“What’s so funny?” she asked.
“For someone so petite, you sure can pack it in!” he guffawed.
Lucy blushed. She’d been called short before and she’d been called a shrimp. Once someone even referred to her as a runt. But somehow having a man call her petite felt... Well, it made her feel more feminine. It made her feel womanly instead of girlish.
“I haven’t even gotten started on dessert yet,” she admitted.
“Ach! Dessert! I’ll be right back.” Nick dashed out the door without his coat and returned clutching a large gold box tied with a satiny red bow. “For you.”
Eagerly Lucy untied the ribbon and lifted the lid to find peanut brittle and gumdrops, ribbon candy and peppermint bark. “These are all my favorites,” she said, suddenly self-conscious that he’d given her a gift. “We always used to get a little box of these after our school Grischtdaag pageants.”
“That’s why I got them,” Nick admitted without the slightest hesitation. “To remind you of when we were young.”
Lucy laughed. “Most people would say we’re still young.” She extended the box to Nick so he could take a piece, but a shadow crossed his face and he shook his head, refusing the candy.
“I was there the night Noah and Nathan Miller took yours when you went back into the schoolhouse to collect your belongings.”
Lucy didn’t know what he was talking about. Then it occurred to her, something she had to dig into the hazy recess of her memory to recall. “Oh, those poor buwe,” she lamented.
“Poor buwe? They stole from you.”
“Jah, but they ended up getting tummy aches and missing Grischtdaag dinner. Or so their mamm told me when she brought them over to apologize a few days later.”
“That’s justice well deserved,” Nick said. “But I should talk. I got off scot-free. I saw what they did, and I didn’t stop them or speak up.”
“They were older than you and they were your friends. Stopping them or tattling would have been a difficult thing for a young bu to do.”
“I imagine the way they acted was difficult for you,” Nick lamented.
He looked so guilt-stricken Lucy felt bad for him. Shrugging, she said, “It was only candy. Besides, this more than makes up for it—look how many pieces are in here!”
Nick laughed, but Lucy was being genuine. She offered the box to him again, but he shook his head a second time. “Those are for you. You don’t need to share. Besides, I’m so full if I eat another bite I won’t be able to move and I’ve got work to do.”
“You go ahead and get started, and I’ll clean this up,” Lucy said, motioning to their dishes. When she was finished, she asked if he’d prefer her to work in another room. She didn’t want to crowd him.
“I think you should stay here where it’s warm. Unless the noise bothers you.”
Touched by how thoughtful he was about her comfort, Lucy snuggled onto one end of the sofa beneath a bright light. The cabin’s electric lights shone brighter than the gaslamps in her home, affording her more precision as she embroidered. Even so, Lucy probably accomplished only half as much as she normally might have. She kept stopping to steal glances at Nick as he worked.
His hands were so capable and strong. She noticed he was something of a perfectionist, sanding a board and then eyeing the edge before sanding it a little more. He used the same meticulous approach when hanging the boards, too. She’d always known he was an energetic person, but until she observed him working, she hadn’t realized how patient he was. Watching him work was so mesmerizing she kept losing track of her stitching.
“What’s wrong?” he asked at one point, a couple hours later. “You’re frowning.”
“Am I? I was just thinking about how...I don’t know, how I’ve misjudged you. Or I did in the past. I thought you were this impulsive, careless bu, but come to find out, you’re actually quite thoughtful and particular and dedicated. I was really wrong. I suppose that’s why the Lord doesn’t want us to judge one another.”
* * *
Nick experienced a rush of pleasure and an equal amount of guilt over Lucy’s comments. On one hand, he was pleased by her compliments. On the other, he didn’t truly live up to her revised version of him, either. After all, he hadn’t been forthright about the reason behind the renovation.
“You probably judged me pretty accurately,” he said. “Just ask my eldre what I was like as a kind.”
Setting aside her embroidery, Lucy said, “Well, maybe in the past, when we were kinner, but not now. Not anymore.”
Standing, she stretched and she reminded him of a cat. A kitten. Then she walked over to his side and studied the wall as if looking at a sunset. “Your work is beautiful. How did you ever get the colors to match like that?”
Nick’s throat felt as if he’d swallowed a handful of pebbles. He was coming unhinged by her praise and her presence. “I had help. Hunter Schwartz gave me some hints.”
“You told him about the project?”
“Neh, I just asked him a few general questions about staining. I haven’t told anyone about the project. You’re the only one who knows,” he said.
“Except for the Nelson bu,” she reminded him.
Nick looked askance at her. “The Nelson bu?”
“Jah, schnickelfritz, the Nelson bu. You know, your friend whose family owns this cabin.” She angled her head up toward him, a saucy grin on her face. He knew he ought to correct her assumption, to tell her his friend was a female named Jenny, but somehow, all he could think about was removing her glasses and kissing her eyebrows, which rose in perfect arcs right above her lenses.
Suddenly afraid she could tell what he was thinking, he said, “You’ve seen my work, now can I see yours?”
The palest pink tinged her face. “Sure, if you really want to.”
She walked to the sofa and held up her embroidery hoop. Fastened within it was a linen napkin on which she’d embroidered an intricate snowflake pattern of white on white, with a hint of gold thread here and there. It reminded him exactly of how the snow looked falling in the moonlight outside the window.
He whistled. “Whoa. Someone’s going to bid a lot for a set of those.”
She bit her lip skeptically. “I hope so. I like it, but I’m afraid the Englischers won’t. Most of them tend to prefer more colorful patterns. But I chose this one because...well, because I think it’s beautiful in a surprising way. I mean it has a quiet kind of beauty, if you have eyes to see it.”
Her Amish Holiday Suitor (Amish Country Courtships Book 5) Page 12
