Caroline's Secret (8 page)

Andrew rode back to the bakery with them, and Caroline was glad. Emma was tired from the afternoon’s activities. She sat quietly in Caroline’s lap all the way home, one thumb tucked in her mouth and the other hand fisted in Caroline’s
kapp
strings.

Andrew kept casting question-filled glances in Caroline’s direction, but she had no more idea what had happened than he did. Finally she mouthed that she would find out what was wrong as soon as she could and left the matter at that.

Finally, they arrived back on Main Street. Abe pulled the buggy to a stop and set the brake. Without waiting for any help, Esther slid the door open and hopped to the ground. “
Danki
for a lovely afternoon.” She gave a quick nod to Abe, then turned on her heel and made her way around the side of the building. Caroline was just stepping down with Andrew’s help when Esther disappeared around the back.

“Thanks for having us,” Caroline said, including Abe in her sentiment. She shifted to bring the exhausted Emma into a more secure hold.

Abe gave her a nod but otherwise looked as distant as he usually did. Caroline wasn’t sure if he really didn’t notice that Esther was upset or if he was choosing to pretend like he didn’t know. With a man like Abe Fitch, it was hard to say.

“Do you want me to take her around for you?” Andrew asked.

“Nay”.
Caroline shook her head. “I’m sure you have a lot to do at the farm.”

Andrew opened his mouth, then closed it again.
“Jah,”
he said. “Then I’ll see you later.”

“Jah.”

Andrew swung himself into the buggy next to his uncle.

With a smile and a wave, they were gone.

Caroline let herself into the apartment and sat Emma in the playpen. It was too early to put her straight to bed. She needed a bath and some supper, but first Caroline needed to talk to Esther and find out what had happened this afternoon.

She went into the kitchen, where the older woman was slamming cabinets and banging pans.

“You want to talk about it?”

Esther shook her head, then retrieved the flour from the cabinet above her head. “I guess it’s not right to ask for God’s help.”

Caroline hid her smile at the outburst and pulled out one of the dining chairs. She sat and waited for Esther to continue.

“I mean, there are so many more important issues that we should take to the Lord in prayer. Matters of the heart seem”—she shrugged—“trivial.”

“Maybe,” Caroline agreed. “But if it is important enough to you that you talk to God about it, then it’s important enough to Him that He’ll listen.”

“I don’t know.” Esther started measuring out flour, counting to herself as she spooned it into a large mixing bowl.

When Esther got upset, she baked. Looked like there would be a new bakery item on sale tomorrow. Last year, she’d had a problem with the bank and baked straight through the spring. Four new items were added to the menu, and Caroline had gained six pounds.

“Are you going to tell me what happened?”

“Nothing happened,” Esther said, but she didn’t meet Caroline’s steady gaze.

“Then why do I get the feeling that you’re not telling me the truth?”

Esther stopped counting scoops of sugar and sighed. “Abe Fitch has had over thirty years to fall in love with me. It’s a fool’s dream to think that he will at this time in our lives.”

Caroline slammed her hands onto her hips. “So you’re just giving up.”

“Jah,”
Esther answered, though Caroline’s words were more of a statement than a question.

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard.”

Esther shrugged one shoulder and started creaming together the brown sugar and butter.

“Take it back or I’ll go down to the furniture store tomorrow to tell him that you love him.”

Esther gasped. “You wouldn’t.”

Caroline raised one brow.

“You would.” Esther shook her head. “Fine,” she conceded. “I won’t give up. But I’m certainly not going to invite him to
nachtess
every night.”

“You just leave that to me.”

“How did you get to be so stubborn?” Esther asked.

Caroline smiled. “I learned from the best.”

Caroline penned her name to the bottom of the letter and willed herself not to cry. She had made choices, and she would stand by them. It was the only way.

“Goedemiddag.”

She looked up, shading her eyes from the sun as Andrew dropped down opposite her at the wooden picnic table.

“Hi, Andrew.” She folded the letter so it would fit in the envelope, then glanced over for a quick check on Emma before she sealed it.

“Where are the rest?”

“Lorie and Emily?” She shrugged. “Most times they are here before me. They must have gotten busy doing something else.”

“You looked pretty busy yourself.”

She shook her head. “Just writing a letter to my folks back home.”

“If you want to get it into the mail today, you’d better hurry. Fred Conrad was running early.”

“I would like to get it out as soon as possible, but . . .” She trailed off as she glanced toward her daughter.

“Go ahead,” Andrew said. “I’ll keep an eye on her.”

She bit her lip. “I don’t know . . .” It wasn’t so important that she should inconvenience Andrew. It could go out tomorrow.

“It’s just around the corner. You’ll be back before she even knows you’re gone.”

His words of the Sunday before came back to her. Why didn’t she trust anyone else with Emma? Maybe it was time she started. “Okay,” she said, pushing up from the narrow bench seat. “I’ll be right back.”

Of course, everyone else had the same thought as she, to hustle to the post office to get their letters and packages out before the truck left for Tulsa.

Caroline shifted impatiently from one foot to the other, glancing every few seconds at the large industrial clock on the wall.

It was only minutes before she had her turn, buying a stamp and sending her letter on its way.

In no time at all, she was down the street and back to the park.

But Andrew and Emma were nowhere to be found.

She sucked in a deep breath as her heart began to pound. They couldn’t have gone far. The restaurant . . . the bakery . . .

Caroline dashed across the street, ignoring the car horn that followed after her.

If something had happened to Emma . . .

She burst through the bakery doors, the bell above the door tinkling furiously with her entrance. It was lunchtime, and the place was empty, just a couple of
Englisch
patrons looking for cakes and such for their special occasions.

She sucked in another breath, trying to calm her erratic fears as she spotted them. Emma was sitting on the table top, her thumb in her mouth and tears on her cheeks. Andrew was seated before her, his head bent over his task.

“Why are you here?” Her voice sounded shrill even to her own ears. She sucked in more air and tried to calm her nerves.

Andrew turned calmly toward her, and that was when she saw the blood.

She uttered a quick prayer as she rushed toward her baby.

“She fell,” Andrew said as he continued to dab at the wound with a disinfectant. He blew on it as Emma started to whimper from the sting.

“Were you not watching her?”

He jerked as if she had slapped him. “I was. I watched her stand, start to run, then trip and fall.”

Caroline scooped Emma up and away from Andrew. “And you did nothing to stop it?”

“There wasn’t anything I could do. She fell that fast.” He snapped his fingers.

Once she had seen her mother, Emma’s bravery fled, and she dissolved into tears once again.

“Here,” he said, reaching out to Emma. “Let me.”

Caroline, heart still pounding, adrenaline pumping, turned away from him. “I think you’ve done enough for one day.”

Andrew watched helplessly as Caroline walked away, cradling the crying Emma to her.

He hadn’t done anything wrong. It was an accident. Caroline was completely overreacting.

“She’s very protective where the
boppli
is concerned.”

He could only agree with the truth in Esther Lapp’s words. Caroline was more than protective; she was sheltering and obsessing.

“Now, I shouldn’t say anything, but I can tell you this. As far as I know, that baby is the only person she has left in this world.”

He shook his head. “She told me her parents are still alive in Tennessee.”

“That may be, but I have yet to meet them. She hasn’t gone any farther than Tulsa since she got off that bus two years ago.”

“What are you saying, Esther?”

“Just give her some time, Andrew Fitch. She’ll come around.”

Caroline had finally stopped shaking by the time Esther locked the doors on the bakery and they headed toward their backroom apartment.

Emma’s knee was bruised and cut, but she seemed not to notice the wound as she ran ahead of Caroline.

“She seems no worse for wear,” Esther said casually. A little too casually. Caroline hadn’t lived with her friend for the past two years and not come to know that when Esther used that tone, she had something on her mind. Caroline would know what it was soon enough.

“Kids are resilient,” she replied.

“Fifteen-month-old babies are always falling.”

Caroline closed the door behind them as Esther headed for the kitchen. “And that means what?”

Esther shrugged, and she started the soup for their supper. “Just what I said; fifteen-month-old babies fall a lot.”

She eyed her friend. “Best get whatever it is off your mind, Esther.”

“Yelling at Andrew was not the way to handle the situation. He was trying to help the child.”

“But—I mean . . .” Caroline realized she wasn’t angry with Andrew, but with herself. She had left them alone. She should have been there for her daughter. Yes, accidents would happen. “I overreacted today.”

Esther unwrapped the loaf of crusty sourdough bread they would have with their dinner. “That you did.”

She had hollered at Andrew, made it seem like the accident was all his fault. He was her friend and she should have never treated him so poorly.

And most of all, she owed Andrew a big, big apology.

“Andrew, there’s someone here for you.”

He looked up from the project he was sanding to find his cousin standing in the doorway of the shop. His eyes felt gritty and sleep deprived. He hadn’t rested more than a couple of hours during the night, tossing and turning as he recalled the anger in Caroline’s eyes.

He pulled off the safety glasses and resisted the urge to wipe his face on his sleeve. There was enough sawdust on his clothes to fill his eyes with grit for real.

“I’ll be right there.”

“You might want to, uh . . .” Danny took a step toward him, dusting his clothes. Then he shook his head as if it were a hopeless endeavor. “Take a bath,” he finished.

“No time.” Andrew pushed past his cousin and stepped into the main showroom of the furniture store. He had to finish this project for the First Methodist Church. They had said for them to take their time, then called back to put a rush on the order. Evidently the new pastor was to arrive in Wells Landing two weeks early.

But once he saw her, he wished that he had taken the time to clean up a bit more, at least get the wood shavings out of his hair. But it was too late; she had already seen him.

Caroline.

She shifted from one foot to the other, chewing on her lip as she waited for him to come near. “I came to apologize for yesterday.”

“Good afternoon to you too,” he said, doing his best to keep his grin at bay. After yesterday, he was afraid she would never talk to him again.

A smile wavered on her lips, and he loved the rosy pink color that rose into her cheeks.

“Why is it that I seem to be constantly messing up where you are concerned?”

Andrew shrugged. “Just luck, I guess.”

“I guess,” she echoed. “I brought you a pie.”

He glanced down to the perfectly browned pastry she held in her hands.

“It looks good.”

“It’s cherry.”

“I love cherry pie.”

A strange little heartbeat stretched between them. An awkward moment in which Andrew wasn’t sure what to say . . . what to do. He shifted, suddenly uncomfortable in his own shoes.

“I’m not one to turn down dessert, but you didn’t have to do this.”

“
Jah
, I did. I overreacted yesterday. I know you wouldn’t let anything happen to Emma on purpose.”

He gave a nod, then realized Danny was staring at them, not even bothering to pretend that he wasn’t hanging on their every word.

“I’ll only accept on one condition.”

“Jah?”

“That you share it with me.”

Caroline smiled, revealing the sweet dimple in her right cheek. “I would love to.”

“I’ll be back in a few,” he told Danny.

“But what about the Methodists’ table?”

“I’ll stay late tonight.” Right now, he had amends to make.

They walked down Main Street, stopping in the bakery for a couple of spoons before taking the pie across the street and into the park.

“Where’s Emma?” he asked as they settled down at one of the picnic tables and prepared to cut the pie.

“Napping.”

Andrew turned the pie this way and that, searching for the best spot to cut.

“We should have brought some plates,” Caroline said.

“And a knife?”

She smiled. “Definitely.”

Andrew chuckled. “I’m not going to let that stop me.” He buried his spoon in the center of the pie and managed to carve a jagged line to the outside crust. Spooning up a big bite, he shoveled it in, not realizing until that moment that he had postponed lunch in order to work on the table, and now he was more than hungry.

He scooped up another bite, his stomach rumbling with appreciation. “You know what this needs?”

Caroline licked the remains of her last bite from the spoon. “What?”

“Some of
Onkle
’s homemade vanilla ice cream.”

“Yum,” she agreed.

Andrew felt the tension drain out of his shoulders as they sat there in the park, the warm sun shining on his face and a
gut freind
across from him. The pie was just an added plus.

Her friendship had come to mean so much to him over the last couple of weeks. And he was so relieved that Caroline was no longer upset about the accident with Emma.

He scraped another bite together before asking, “How’s Emma’s knee?”

“It’s fine.” She stopped. “Andrew, I’m truly sorry about yesterday.”

“Forget it.”

She reached across the table and laid her hand on top of his. “I shouldn’t have talked to you that way.”

He patted her hand, resisted the instinct to turn it over and trace the lines on her palm. One thing was certain: He didn’t want to let her go.

“I’ve already forgotten.”

“You’re a
gut freind
, Andrew Fitch.”

“As are you, Caroline Hostetler. As are you.”

“So . . .” She pulled her hand away as yet another awkward moment stretched between them. Did she feel it too? Maybe it was just him trying to work through all the feelings he’d held for Beth. “Are we back on for dinner tomorrow night?”

He’d been so upset over the fact that Caroline was angry that he had completely forgotten about their plans to get Abe and Esther to fall in love.
“Jah, jah,”
he said as he chewed the last bite of pie. “Your
haus
or mine?”

A small frown puckered her brow.

“I heard it in a movie once.”

“A movie?”

“A motion picture show.”

“I know what one is,” Caroline answered, “I just didn’t know any districts that allowed them.”

Andrew chuckled. “It’s not like that. I only saw one on my
rumspringa
. Best thing ever.”

“Really?”

“It’s the only thing about the
Englisch
world I could really get used to.”

“Why is that?”

“I don’t know really. It was just amazing. You walk into this big room and the lights are dim and the picture is so big. It’s like being in a completely different world.”

“Now I can see why they are banned.”

Andrew shrugged. “It would definitely take a body’s attention away from God. What was your favorite part of
rumspringa
?”

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “I’d better get this pie plate back to the bakery before it’s a stuck-on mess.”

He reached out to stop her from walking away. “You don’t want to talk about your
rumspringa
?”

She shook her head, her eyes on the empty pie plate she held. “My district doesn’t condone a run-around time for the youth.”

“Really? I mean, I have heard of that, just never met someone who was in such a district.” He resisted the crazy urge to clasp her hands in his once more and rub his thumb across the smooth skin.

“They really exist.”

“But how do you know if you want to join the church?”

“The bishop feels you either do or you don’t. No amount of tasting the pleasures of the world is going to settle down a heart that wants what is on the outside.”

“Is that how you ended up here?”

Caroline shook her head. “That’s a long story.”

For sure and for certain, she didn’t want to talk about it. He could tell.

Andrew gestured toward the plate in her hands. “I suppose that’s becoming a stuck-on mess.”

“It is at that.”

“Some other time then?”

“Jah.”

Andrew watched her go, wondering what she was trying to hide.