A Plain Man (10 page)

“I haven't had pigtails since I was a little girl,” said Sarah.

“And there's good reason for that—you're not a child anymore.” The male voice from the other end of the porch nearly knocked both women off the swing.

Sarah turned to see Adam Troyer striding toward them with his coat buttoned up to his throat. “I didn't hear your buggy drive up. Where did you park?”

“I tied my horse in the front yard since a car blocked the driveway. I had no idea who would be visiting the Beachys on a Saturday afternoon.” His stare rotated between Sarah's uncovered head and Michelle Moore like a pendulum. Judging by his expression, neither sight made him happy. “Where is your
kapp,
Sarah?”

“Right here.” She held up the starched piece of white cotton. “Adam, this is Michelle Moore, the fiancée of Caleb's friend, Pete Taylor.”

“From Cleveland?” he asked.

“Lakewood, to be exact. How do you do? I gather you're Sarah's beau. You are a lucky man, to be sure.” Michelle extended her well-manicured fingers.

Adam's manners returned in the nick of time. He swept his felt hat from his head and shook her hand. “Pleased to meet you. And yes, God blessed me generously when I met Sarah.” Embarrassment turned his cheeks a healthy shade of pink. His gaze shifted back to Sarah. “Why is your hair down?” he asked, settling into a rocker.

Sarah quickly coiled the two long braids around and secured them with pins. Nimbly she covered her head with the
kapp.
“Michelle was curious about Amish hair. Since we were alone on the porch, I saw no harm in showing her mine. I hope you don't think me vain.” She folded her hands primly.

“No, I know you too well to think that, but Amish hair is no different than any other.” Adam focused on the
Englisch
guest. “Did you drive to Fredericksburg by yourself?”

Michelle dropped the brush onto the pile next to her handbag. “Oh, no, Pete came to visit his old friend, Cal, just to make sure everything was all right.”

“Why wouldn't things be all right? Caleb is back where he belongs with his people.” Adam stared at the spilled contents of her purse. His frown returned for a second appearance. “You brought
a camera
to an Amish home?” He glared at Sarah. “Did you allow yourself to be photographed?”

Sarah inhaled through her nostrils as her temper flared. “You know me better than that. That camera hasn't left her purse. Please don't give Miss Moore the impression that Caleb's family is bad-mannered and inhospitable,” she snapped.

Silence gripped the porch.

Michelle and Pete didn't stay long after that.

Adam tried to finagle an invitation to supper to no avail. If he could behave rudely, then so could Sarah. When she refused to budge, he finally returned to his buggy with his tail between his legs. By the time Elizabeth and Katie returned from their quilting bee, not one of the Beachys was smiling—not Eli, not Caleb, and certainly not Sarah.

“Goodness,
ehemann
, are you sure you're not making a mountain out of a molehill?” Elizabeth peered over the top of her glasses, her sewing momentarily forgotten.

Eli shook his head. “You weren't there while Caleb was having lunch with those
Englischers.
He seemed to hang onto every word that woman said.”

“Maybe Pete's fiancée was telling a fascinating story, and you walked in too late.” His
fraa
returned to her needlework.

“She was describing her three-ring circus of a wedding. What Amish man would be interested in that?” Finally alone with his wife, Eli began to pace the kitchen floor. After Caleb left for an evening walk, he'd thought his girls would never go upstairs to their room.

“Sit down, Eli. I'm growing exhausted just watching you. Katie and I seemed to have stumbled into a hornets' nest instead of coming home to our family. All four of you glowering and pouting like
kinner
.”

“I don't pout.” Eli paused. “Four? What could Rebekah be riled up about? She wasn't even home during their visit.”

Elizabeth winked at him. “That's just it—Rebekah is miffed because she missed the excitement. She believes Sarah planned for her to stay at the B&B.”

“That's ridiculous. Sarah couldn't have known they would visit.” Slumping into a chair, Eli released a sound similar to a growl. “First, Caleb getting excited about those
Englischers'
wedding, then Sarah disgracing herself with Miss Moore.”

She dropped her sewing atop the basket. “Sarah said she simply showed the woman her hair and then Michelle decided to brush it. True, that shouldn't have happened outdoors, but Sarah believed they were alone. Why was Adam Troyer sneaking around the bushes like a prowling tomcat?”

“You're as bad as our daughter. Adam didn't sneak. He was calling on Sarah on his way home from work. Granted, he shouldn't have taken his reaction out on Caleb's guests, but he has a right to be concerned about Sarah's behavior. Aren't they announcing their engagement soon?” His tone dropped to the barest whisper.

“You know better than to ask me. We'll see this summer.” Elizabeth reached for her cup of tea. “I'm glad you realized Pete and Michelle were Caleb's guests. According to our son, you treated them like house burglars caught red-handed in the strong box. Is that true?”

Eli pursed his lips. “I made no one turn out their pockets or empty their purse. But
jah
, I suppose I overreacted to their showing up unannounced.”

“Were they supposed to
call
first?” She sipped her tea without taking her eyes off him.

“I don't know,
fraa,
but I'm afraid we'll lose Caleb back to their world of temptation.”

“Then let's not drive him away with our lack of trust and faith in his judgment.”

Weary beyond description, Eli nodded on his way up the steps. “I will try.” He voiced the words, but in his heart he hadn't the slightest idea how.

5

Sorrowing I shall be in spirit,

Till released from flesh and sin

C
aleb's second week on Eli's roofing crew started out very much like the first. By Wednesday, however, his
mamm
inadvertently provided the fly destined to embed itself in the family ointment. At their normal breakfast of toast and oatmeal, she entered the kitchen carrying a heavy, black wool coat.

“Look what I found for you secondhand—a still serviceable winter coat.” She held out the garment for his inspection. “I lengthened the sleeves, mended a few moth holes, and cleaned it the best I could. What do you think?”

Caleb peered over his coffee cup at the fairly worn-out Amish jacket. “Looks fine.
Danki.
Where did you come across it?”

“Beatrice Black's husband passed away, so he had no further need of it. She was getting rid of most of Abraham's clothes at a rummage sale.”

Caleb wished he hadn't asked.
A moth-eaten coat from a dead man at least half a foot shorter than me?
Knowing she meant well, he gritted his teeth and smiled at his mother. “It will come in handy for the rest of the season. By next fall I'll be able to buy a new coat.”

“It won't be a perfect fit, but I couldn't see it going to waste. Abraham would be happy it was put to good use.” Elizabeth bustled between the counter and the refrigerator as she packed their lunches.

His father listened to their exchange but said nothing. His silence ended when Caleb downed his remaining coffee and lifted his Carhartt from the hall peg. “Why are you taking that? Your
mamm
repaired a perfectly fine Plain coat.”

“Which I intend to wear.” Caleb spoke softly while shrugging on his mother's handiwork. Two inches of wrist dangled beneath the sleeves. “Since I don't need this one any longer I might as well give it away.” He walked outside just as Jack pulled up the driveway.

“Sounds
gut.
” Eli stomped down the porch steps, lugging his briefcase of papers, lunch cooler, and thermos.

Caleb followed him, carrying the
Englisch
coat and the last shreds of his dignity. He climbed into the back while his
daed
sat up front as usual. Caleb waited until they turned onto the state highway to address their driver. “I'm putting this Carhartt atop your toolbox, Jack, because I don't need it anymore and you're about the same size as me.”

Jack repositioned the rearview mirror to meet his gaze. “Thanks, Cal. How much do you want for it?”

“Nothing. It's a gift. I bought it on
rumschpringe
while up in Cleveland.” While he spoke Caleb noticed an overlooked moth hole in his sleeve.

“Your Carhartt looked brand new. Besides, you already gave me your Sawzall and Bob your cordless circular saw. I wouldn't mind paying a fair price for the jacket—that brand lasts forever.”

Caleb didn't have a chance to argue, or decide upon a price for a used garment, or anything else. His father jumped into the discussion as though Caleb had been struck mute.

“No, just take it off our hands,” said Eli. “It's a daily reminder of a place my son needs to forget. How about if Caleb foregoes his share of the gas money during the project in exchange for the tools?”

Jack glanced into the rearview mirror at him. “Sounds fair to me, if it's okay with Cal. But I'm still getting the better end of the deal.”

Caleb stared out the window, not meeting Jack's eye. With two other Amish men in the van, he didn't wish to disagree with his father. “Deal sounds fair.” Three words, barely audible, but it was the best he could do at the moment.

At the Millersburg job site Eli remained on the ground poring over blueprints and specifications, or on his cell phone ordering materials, or lining up their next project. Caleb and the rest of the crew worked unsupervised. All seven men were diligent and relatively
proficient—the
Englischers
more so than the Amish, due to their experience. During their lunch break, Jack and Bob headed across the street to McDonald's while Eli met another contractor in a local diner. Caleb saw a chance to broach a subject that had been needling him with his fellow Amishmen. “I've noticed you continue to speak
Deutsch
even when Jack and Bob are with us. Don't you think we should speak English out of common courtesy?” He glanced around the group where everyone munched on sandwiches or pieces of cold fried chicken. All food consumption halted, sandwiches held aloft in midair.

Four sets of eyes focused on Josiah, Caleb's roofing partner. “I had a feeling that has been bothering you,” he said. The Killbuck carpenter, a father of six with a seventh on the way, spoke in a calm manner. “We thought the same when we started working for your
daed.
So we spoke English in the van, at lunch, or anyplace else
Englischers
were present.” Pausing, Josiah glanced around the group.

“Go on,” prodded Caleb. He set his egg salad sandwich down on the waxed paper. “What changed? Did you get mad at Jack or Bob?”

“Of course not.” Josiah looked bewildered. “Truth be told, Eli told us that on breaks and before or after work we should speak
Deutsch
and let Bob and Jack carry on their own conversations. Only when we're actually working with them should we converse in English.”

Caleb waited for someone to burst into laughter to indicate Josiah was pulling his leg, but no one did. He received only nods of acknowledgement when he scanned the faces. “He instructed you to speak a language that Bob and Jack don't understand?”

Josiah took a bite of sandwich and chewed. “Eli has nothing but respect for them, but I have the feeling he doesn't want his Amish employees”—he paused as though searching for a word—“fraternizing with the
Englisch.
”

“You've got to be kidding.” Caleb's comment wasn't a question.

“No, I'm not, but Jack and Bob don't mind. Everybody is happy on this crew, Cal. Don't try to fix something that's not broken.” Josiah locked eyes with him. “I'm offering brotherly advice from one Plain man to another.”

Caleb found the notion ridiculous, but he had no choice but to
agree. “All right. If you're sure we're not offending Bob and Jack, I won't rock the boat.”

Josiah rose to his feet and shoved his trash into his lunch bag. “I'm positive. Things are different here than what you're familiar with, but you'll learn Eli's ways eventually.” He patted Caleb's shoulder before heading toward the ladder to the roof.

You're not kidding they're different
, Caleb thought. But what choice did he have? Eli was his boss as well as his father, and Caleb was in no mood to look for another job.

During the afternoon, roof removal moved at a speed slower than a three-legged turtle. Jack and Bob, crew partners, worked on a section half a story higher than the other crews. Each time an Amish team needed something cut with the Sawzall, Bob or Jack had to climb down the ladder. No one but Caleb found this arrangement of teams ridiculous. But considering his last clash with Eli in front of the men, Caleb worked without comment. At quitting time, however, his patience ran out. “Can you clean up the site without me?” he asked Josiah. “I'd like to speak to my father a moment.”