Chapter 9
Ben gestured for Rhoda to precede him down the porch steps, hanging back to collect his thoughts. All during their time on the porch he’d felt this young woman watching his every move, hanging on his every word . . . gazing at him like a love-struck puppy. And a sweet, lovable puppy she was, too, but he couldn’t let Rhoda follow him around with that moony-eyed look on her face. Couldn’t let her friends in the Sweet Seasons make fun of her for doing special things for him. Couldn’t let her believe he was the answer to all her prayers.
At twenty-one, Rhoda Lantz must feel her clock ticking, especially with her twin sister getting married soon. He’d watched a couple of his younger sisters go through crushes like this—love at first sight for fellows who had no intention whatsoever of loving them back, if they even had a clue about how Gracie and Bess felt about them. Boys could be so heartless . . . even when they got to be Hiram Knepp’s age.
But Ben set aside all thoughts about the bishop. Plenty of time tomorrow to deal with that man. As he strolled along the gravel driveway toward the dark smithy and café, he prepared himself for whatever might happen.
Lord God, help me be the man ya created me to be . . . honorable and kind and up-front about situations like this. And if I’m behavin’ this same lost-puppy way toward Miriam, not readin’ her right, will ya please give me a
gut
swift kick before I do somethin’ stupid?
“It’s mighty nice of you gals to let me stay in your new apartment,” he said to break the awkward silence as they walked. “Right kind of you to ask me what I’d like for breakfast, too. You’re a sweet girl, Rhoda. Very thoughtful.”
Her smile beamed up at him and then she focused on the pale gravel path with the strip of grass down its center. Rhoda walked closer to him then, with her head lowered shyly, so that Ben saw how the moonlight glimmered on her kapp. Someday, when she filled out, she’d be as attractive as her
mamm
.
When they reached the side door of the blacksmith shop, Rhoda fumbled beneath a flowerpot for the key. “We didn’t lock this place when Dat had his business here,” she remarked. “But what with all the traffic on the county road, and the way word got around about Micah fixin’ us rooms where the loft used to be, we just figured it to be safer.”
“Three women alone have to be careful,” he agreed.
“Come on up. Will ya be all right on the stairs, or shall I fetch the lamp from the bakery?”
Ben stepped inside the blacksmith shop and allowed his eyes to adjust to the dark until he could make out the shapes of the big forge and the bins full of horseshoes and tools. “I’m
gut
in the dark if you are.”
Wrong thing to say! You’ve got to do better than that, Hooley!
“Oh, I’m fine. I know my way around down here, and the stairs have a handrail,” she pointed out as she took hold of it. “Rachel’s Micah did a real nice job of puttin’ this place together for us, and I’m excited about movin’ in after they get hitched.”
“Even though you’ve had a room next to your sister’s all your life? It’ll be different, livin’ here in this little place with your
mamm
.”
Rhoda turned on the stairs to face him. “How would ya know about that, Ben Hooley?” she whispered. “Ya seem to understand so much about me even though we just met.”
He cleared his throat. Any more little honeybee remarks like that one would swarm him if he didn’t swat them down—gently—from the start. “I have sisters myself. And since there were only two of them amongst us six boys, they were thick as thieves, too,” he remarked. “When Gracie got married, Bess wandered around the place for days lookin’ like she’d lost her best friend.”
Rhoda turned the key in the door at the top of the stairs and they stepped into a set of rooms that still smelled of fresh paint, varnish, and new wood. “I’ll light the lamp now, so ya can pick which room ya want and see what-all Micah’s rigged up for us,” she said proudly. “A couple months ago, on our birthday, we unveiled this little place and he got a lot of orders for wall systems like he built here.”
When the flame caught and the lamp revealed a tidy, simply furnished set of rooms, Ben smiled. “It looks better than the back of my wagon, for sure! And you’re pullin’ that wall forward on a track!”
Rhoda chuckled. “
Jah
, that’s the amazin’ part. Durin’ the day you’ve got a nice sittin’ room and the kitchen nook, and when ya shift this wall forward, ya make a bedroom with book cases along the wall. And the beds pull down when you’re ready for them, too.”
Ben ran an admiring hand over the glossy oak woodwork. It was hard to believe how many room combinations could be made in this cozy nest by shifting segments of the walls across the main space.
“So . . . which bedroom are ya takin’, Ben?”
He chuckled. “That’s another one of those questions that says a lot about a fella, ain’t so?”
“I already know all I need to.”
Ben closed his eyes. Rhoda was getting bolder . . . standing close enough that her skirt brushed his pant leg.
“Pale green walls or light blue?” Ben murmured, stalling until he figured out how to set Rhoda straight without hurting her feelings.
And how will ya do that? She’s been seein’ all these perty pictures in her mind and it’ll be a big letdown, no matter how ya go about it. Watch out, now!
Rhoda had grasped a handle on the side of another set of shelves, to lower a Murphy bed into place. Sheets and all. Surely Miriam Lantz’s girl wouldn’t play the jezebel with him . . .
“The green room’s yours, ain’t so?” he murmured. “I can find my way around now, Rhoda. Everythin’ a man could possibly need is here—”
“Ben, you’re the fella I’ve been waitin’ for all my life,” she murmured. “I’d almost given up ever findin’ somebody who can make me as happy as Micah makes Rachel, but—but here ya are!”
He slowly let out his breath. “Rhoda, ya have no idea about—”
“Don’t be goin’ modest on me now, or gettin’ shy!” She came up to stand in front of him, mere inches away, with her face lifted up for a kiss. Her eyes sparkled in the dimness. “I’ve been courted by my share of fellas—”
“That’s no surprise, but—”
“—but none of them come close to bein’ the man
you
are, Ben Hooley,” she continued earnestly. “Ya probably think it’s too soon for me to be sayin’ this, but nobody’s ever made me feel this way!”
Ben groaned inwardly. “Ya don’t know what you’re—”
“I’m twenty-one, Ben. Plenty old enough to know a lot of things.” She stepped closer, smiling so sweetly it broke his heart.
He reminded himself how crushed Bess and Gracie had been; for days after each of them had been ignored or ridiculed by the men they’d set their hearts on, there was no living with their red eyes and long faces. And their brothers had shown them no mercy, either—nor had their
dat
, who’d told them all along they were headed for heartbreak.
When Rhoda stood on tiptoe to brush his cheek with a kiss, Ben stepped back. He took hold of her arms before they wound around his neck and gently pushed her away.
“Rhoda, you’ve got to hear me out now,” he said firmly. “Ya don’t want to fall for me on account of—”
“It’ll be so perfect, Ben!” she insisted. “Mamma thinks you’re gonna be
her
fella, but she’s way too old for ya! Folks’ll squawk about her makin’ a fool of herself—”
“How old do ya think I am, Rhoda?” He hadn’t intended to sound so gruff, but it was the only way he knew to make her pay attention.
Her brow puckered. Oh, but Ben could believe she’d given a few of the local fellows the what for! Rhoda Lantz was so far ahead of them in so many ways, they didn’t know how lacking they were. “Why does that matter?” she demanded. “Older fellas marry younger gals all the time.”
“Like the bishop wantin’ to hitch up with your
mamm?
”
“That’s disgustin’! You think so, too!” Rhoda retorted. “Why are ya tryin’ to—”
“If Hiram’s fifty-five and your mother’s forty, that’s fifteen years between them,” Ben calculated aloud.
“It’s not so much his age as his
attitude
that makes Hiram Knepp an old goat!”
Ben tried not to laugh at the disrespectful remark she’d just made. He hated to burst this pretty girl’s bubble, but she needed a strong dose of reality. “So that means if you’re twenty-one and I’m well into bein’ thirty-five,” he countered, keeping his voice as kind as he could, “what’s that tell ya?”
Rhoda’s eyes looked the size of salad plates. “You’re just sayin’ that to get rid of me!” She backed away, her lip quivering. “That’s the meanest—Ben Hooley, any woman with eyes can see you’re not more than twenty-five! Ya can’t be!”
Ben sighed sadly. A tear had trickled down each of Rhoda’s cheeks and he didn’t dare wipe them away. “I wouldn’t lie to ya, Rhoda. My
mamm
and
dat
fooled a lot of folks into thinkin’ they were newlyweds well into their marriage—and
jah
, part of it was their attitude, their ability to enjoy life even though they had to work from sunup to sundown to keep us all clothed and fed.”
Rhoda planted her fists against her hips then, challenging him with another frown. “I don’t believe ya! You’re sayin’ that on account of how Mamma sweet-talked ya first, and—and ya think she’s got money—you’re hitchin’ your wagon to her star!” she blurted. “Is that how it goes?”
Ben removed his hat to sweep his hair back from his face. “Do I impress ya as a fella who’d chase after a woman so he could live off her?” he demanded in a low voice. “That hurts, Rhoda, to think ya see me in such a way.”
He stepped farther away from her, thinking fast. Trying to remain rational . . . knowing Miriam and Rachel would eventually be hearing Rhoda’s version of this story. “Ya better leave now—or I will. There’s gettin’ to be too many reasons for not stayin’ in this wee little room together.”
Rhoda swiped at her face, fighting a crying spell. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to—ya got me all
ferhoodled
, sayin’ ya were thirty-five.” Her voice sounded raw with disappointment as the truth settled over all the dreams she’d been weaving. “I can’t believe you’re only five years younger than Mamma! She’s so much older than you in so many ways—”
“We always see our parents as old, Rhoda,” Ben replied with a rueful smile. How could he prove his point without making her feel even worse? “I know how it hurts to have somebody turn ya down,” he murmured. “When I was about your age, I was courtin’ a girl—real serious about settlin’ down with her because she was just perfect for me. Next thing I heard around town, she was marryin’ a fella who’d come into some farmland and a house when his
dat
died.” He shrugged, not knowing what else to do.
Rhoda turned away, covering her face with her hands. “I’m soundin’ like a biddy hen, peckin’ at ya,” she said in a ragged voice. “I didn’t mean to—oh, I’d best be on my way before I do anythin’ else stupid. What would a fella like you possibly see in me?”
Rhoda hurried down the stairs then, the sounds of her sobs echoing in the shop below before she slammed the outside door.
Ben slumped, wishing he’d said kinder, more comforting words . . . wondering what Rhoda would tell her
mamm
, and if there might be any backlash from this little conversation.
Here less than two days and already ya broke somebody’s heart. You’ve got to do better if ya think Miriam’ll turn down other fellas, more established, in favor of settlin’ for you.
Miriam gazed into the moonlit night from her upstairs window, not really chaperoning Rhoda from afar yet watching, all the same. What a day they’d all had! She was exhausted and three o’clock would come too soon—not to mention a big order for breakfast rolls and pastries to be served at a retreat for some of the department heads at the college in Warrensburg. If Hiram had any idea how much the Sweet Seasons business had expanded beyond the Plain communities of Willow Ridge, Morning Star, and New Haven, he’d be taking her down a peg or two.
Puh! His own business depends on buyers from all over the country! Don’t be thinkin’ ya have to remain such a small, local shop—especially with winter comin’ on, cuttin’ down on the tourist business.
No doubt in her mind the bishop wasn’t finished coming after her, finding ways to steer her toward his own upkeep and family concerns. Had Ben not been resting against that apple tree, what might Hiram have done? Her shoulders still felt sore from where he’d grabbed her this afternoon.
The sound of sobbing came through her closed window, and here came Rhoda down the driveway, mopping her face while she walked at a fast, stiff gait toward the house. What had Ben Hooley done to her? Had he gotten caught up in Rhoda’s big blue eyes and the wishful look she’d worn ever since she’d met him? Had he behaved in a way that dishonored her daughter—
Just as Hiram’s behavior dishonors you!
Or had Rhoda been the one to start the sparks flying?