Courting Cate (22 page)

A horn honked, then another. A taxi zipped by.

Thinking the way was clear, I stepped from the curb and then startled as Pete yelled, “Cate!” As another taxi careened around the corner, he grabbed my arm and yanked me back onto the sidewalk, the yellow blur of the vehicle just inches from me.

“Denki,” I whispered, my heart galloping.

We continued on in complete silence after that, all the way to Wes’s car. He was waiting for us, leaning against the car, appearing anxious for us to be on our way.

The men chatted about the appointment with the publisher and then Wes’s meeting with his friend, who was an editor, as we left the city.

“He said the deal sounded good,” Wes said. “But I’ll talk it over with my lawyer and get back to you.”

“And then I’ll need some time to think and pray about it,”
Pete said. “I’ve been known to be impulsive. I don’t want to make a bad decision.”

I placed my hand over my heart as if I’d been stabbed, knowing he meant his decision to marry me.

Around ten, Wes said we’d be back at the farm by three or so.

“Will you stay at Mamm and Dat’s?” Pete asked him.

He shook his head. “I don’t think your mother would be happy to find me on the couch in the morning. She still hasn’t seemed to forgive me for not joining the Amish church. I’ll drive to Bert’s.”

It seemed that Esther had tried to control a wide variety of people for many years. I settled against the seat and closed my eyes, but sleep wouldn’t come. I became lost in my thoughts, listening to the hum of the wheels on the road through the window that was open just a crack, letting in the cool night air. I thought about the pending business deal. Of the walk in the park. Of the sassy actress and the burly actor. Of Pete pulling me away from the taxi. I sank farther into the back seat, shifting my weight against the vinyl, my heart contracting. Still, I breathed a prayer of thanks. The day had been an unexpected gift.

Wes commented that Bert seemed to be doing well, and then asked Pete about his other siblings. Pete went down the list one by one.

“And how about John? Any children for him and his new bride?”

I couldn’t hear Pete’s answer, and I didn’t open my eyes to see if he was shaking his head.

“Pardon?” Wes asked.

“No.”

“Any on the way?”

I was surprised at how forward Wes was, and not surprised when Pete didn’t answer.

“Well, maybe you and Cate will have the next grandchild.”

Neither said anything for a long moment. I imagined Pete staring straight ahead out the windshield, not giving anything away with his stoic expression.

“What’s her family like?” Wes finally asked.

“Just a sister and their father. Her Dat is a good man, the sort who brings out the best in people.”

I held as still as I could.

“Sounds like good stock,” Wes said. “And Cate seems like a good match for you. Smart. Adventuresome. Patient.”

Pete chuckled.

“Well, she is living on the farm.”

“That’s true,” Pete said. “And she’s been amazingly gracious about it.”

My heart swelled.

But then the front seat shifted a little, and Pete said to Wes, “What have you been reading lately?”

It was Wes’s turn to chuckle. “Don’t want to talk about your own life?”

Pete’s voice was firm. “I finished
Pilgrim’s Progress
a while ago. First time. I’m between books right now, though. I’ve been too busy.”

Wes bit, surely knowing full well the hook had been baited. As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t stay awake.

Sometime later I drifted out of sleep to hear Pete say, “I’m sure she reads more than anyone I’ve ever met. I knew right away she was a smart one. That was what first attracted me.”

Inwardly I groaned at him repeating the same made-up spiel he’d pitched to his brothers, sisters-in-law, and parents, not sure why he was saying it again when he didn’t have to.

When I awoke again, the car had stopped.

“We’re here,” Wes announced.

I opened my eyes and Pete stirred. It was clear he’d fallen asleep too.

“Will you be okay driving to Bert’s?”

“Sure,” Wes said. “It’s not much farther. I’ll be in touch when I’ve decided what to do.”

I managed to tell him thank you. The moon was nearly full and shone brightly over the yard. I headed straight to the outhouse and then to the back door, aware that Pete was still talking with Wes. I entered the house in a sleepy fog and plodded up the stairs to the bedroom, closing the door firmly behind me.

I’d changed into my nightgown and was climbing into bed by the light of the moon shining in the window, when I saw an envelope on the bedside table. I lit the lamp. It was addressed in Betsy’s flowery handwriting to
Mr. and Mrs. Pete Treger
.

I opened it quickly.

She was getting married in four weeks. The first of September, just after she turned eighteen. Earlier than most fall weddings, but not as soon as I thought she might. I’d been gone eight weeks—had she confessed her sins immediately and been under the Bann until now? If she was pregnant and the bishop knew, the wedding day would probably be curtailed. No evening meal, nor as many people attending.

I stuffed the invitation back into the envelope. I’d tell Pete about it tomorrow.

A few minutes later he stepped into the room, wearing a thin T-shirt and his long underwear bottoms. I turned toward the wall as he spread out his sleeping bag, shook out the sheet he’d been using because it was so hot, and lay down.

After a while his breathing slowed, so I rolled back and
peeked over the side of the bed. He slept with his arm under his head, his face turned toward me, the sheet pulled up to his chest. With the full moon there was enough light to make out his features. I draped my hand over the bed, my fingers just inches from his face. My heart contracted again and then did a full flip, radiating an odd warmth through my core, one reminiscent of what I’d felt when Pete put his arm around me when we sat on the log together around the campfire, so long ago.

I jerked my hand back up onto the bed as if I’d touched a fiery coal.

Rolling away from the edge, my head found my pillow again, as I was overcome with actual pain. It was a feeling much worse than being unlovable.

It was the agony of unrequited love—and it
hurt.

I loved a man who would never love me back. A man who would never love me because, just as I’d always expected, I was unlovable. Because I was a shrew.

I squeezed my eyes against the moonlight, but a single tear still escaped.

Since deciding to marry Pete, I’d assumed a marriage of convenience would be my curse.

Now I knew I’d been wrong. Me loving him, never to have it returned, was much, much worse.

I woke to Esther pounding on the door. Pete was long gone.

As I crawled out of bed, my head throbbed. I felt as if I’d been crying for hours. Perhaps I had—in my sleep.

By the time I managed to get washed up, the oatmeal was cold. Esther and Walter sat at the table, waiting for me. After the silent prayer, I expected them to ask me about New York, but they didn’t. And neither asked about the envelope from Lancaster. I yawned several times, but they didn’t comment on that either. After I finished eating, Esther took a folded piece of paper from the pocket of her apron.

“Pete asked me to give this to you.”

My heart raced as I took it. I turned it over, yearning for some sort of message of endearment, but if that was so, Esther could have easily read it.

I unfolded it. It wasn’t so.

Cate,

Would you please take the horse and buggy and go to the library in Randolph? Get everything you can on running a business.

Pete

I read the message again, noting
please.
Granted my husband didn’t love me, but at least he was acting like a gentleman again.

I looked up at Esther. “He wants me to go to Randolph.”

“So he said.”

“Is it all right if I take the horse and buggy?”

Esther pointed to Walter.

He nodded. “It’s fine with me.”

If we were returning to Lancaster soon there wasn’t much point in going to the library, but the thought of taking the horse and buggy anywhere was more than I could pass up.

“Do you need anything from the store?”

“More coffee,” Esther said. “And some thread.”

I finished the dishes and weeded in the garden for an hour and then hitched up the buggy. I didn’t want to arrive in Randolph much earlier than the library opened—just enough to look around and do the little bit of needed shopping. But I did want to get going before it got too hot.

The horse walked slowly up the driveway. I searched the neighbor’s field for Pete but didn’t see him, but when I reached the highway I heard him holler, “Howdy!”

I strained my neck. He was driving a wagon heaped with hay. I waved back and smiled but then realized he wasn’t calling out to me. His boss stood by the barn.

As I turned onto the asphalt, the weight of my emotions came crashing down, as if released by gravity itself. I struggled to compose myself as I passed Jana and John’s house. Perhaps if I could actually meet her I would feel better. I stared as I drove by but didn’t see anyone in the yard or through the windows. I kept driving. I didn’t have the nerve to stop.

The horse kept a steady pace past the firehouse and then down the steep hill. Going up the next incline was another
matter. I wondered halfway up if we were going to make it, but we did.

I felt my spirits lift a little at just being in the buggy and on my way to a library. I’d missed my freedom immensely.

The day was clear and bright, hardly muggy at all. Birds chirped in the trees. The wind rustled through fields of corn. A stream gurgled beneath a bridge. It was a beautiful morning, and so peaceful. I was sure there were tourists who visited the Amish communities in New York too, but they hadn’t found their way to this back road. No one was driving by gawking. No one was leaning out the window, determined to snap a photo of me. It wasn’t like home, at all.

But by the time I reached Randolph, it was hot. The grocery store was on the main road, and I stopped there first, watering and feeding the horse from the bucket and jug I’d brought along.

As I entered, I considered that the store might not carry thread. They did, but then I wondered if it was the right kind. I should have asked Esther for particulars but decided to get it anyway. The coffee was easy—I grabbed a can identical to the big red one Esther pulled out of the cupboard every morning.

I asked the clerk where the library was. It turned out to be just a block off Main Street.

“It’s open on Friday mornings,” she said. “It’s your lucky day.”

I’d assumed it would be open every morning. As it turned out, according to the sign, most days it was only open in the afternoon. I walked up the steps of the brick building and entered, appreciating the cool interior but mostly reveling in the sight of all the books, shelf after shelf. I ambled down the first aisle, my hand trailing along the spines of the novels.

“May I help you find something?” The librarian was standing at the beginning of the next aisle.

I stopped, not quite ready to end my walk-through. “Business books. Where would I find those?”

“Last row, middle shelf.”

I thanked her and continued touching each book as I passed by, stopping when I reached my destination. There wasn’t much of a selection, but I pulled what they had. One on bookkeeping, another on making a business plan, and a third on Internet marketing.

Then I found the biographies, but there wasn’t one on Ulysses S. Grant or Julia Grant. I scanned the shelves for quite a while, taking out a book and looking at it, putting it back, then moving on to another. In the end I decided not to check out any more than the business ones. We—or at least I—would be leaving for Betsy’s wedding soon enough. After that, I had no idea where we would be.

I was surprised at how trusting the librarian was about giving me a card. She said she knew I would bring the books back. She smiled as she checked out the Internet one but didn’t ask any questions.

On the way home, I felt as if I were hanging in the balance between Cattaraugus County and Lancaster County, between New York and Pennsylvania. I needed to talk to Pete about going home for Betsy’s wedding. I wanted to find out what Pete’s plans were for a business, which I knew depended on Wes’s decision. I longed to know where he wanted us to live permanently.

And I needed to know if there would be a chance he would ever love me. . . . That made me think of what he said when I dropped him at the Bergs’ for the singing, the line about the two raging fires meeting and then consuming what fed
their fury. I wondered what exactly it was that fed my fury. Being bullied? Mocked? Used? Feeling unlovable? Or out of control? And what it was that fed his.

That put my mind back on Jana, and I contemplated stopping to introduce myself. I wondered what Jana did all day with her husband gone. I went cold for a moment. What if Pete went to see her during the day, while John was away?

I shook my head, chastising myself for my suspicions. Pete wouldn’t do that—surely not.

I crested the biggest hill and passed the fire station. The horse was going extra slow on the long straight stretch, poor thing, exhausted from the heat and the trip. As the horse conquered the smaller hill and we neared Jana and John’s, I bit my lower lip. To stop or not to stop? The horse slowed even more. I checked for traffic. Nothing was in sight, either way. I pulled the reins to the left, across the highway, and into Jana and John’s short driveway, parking the buggy under the shade of a gigantic elm.

I smiled on the way to the front door, practicing my congenial look, although I still hadn’t decided what I would say. Maybe something like,
I was passing by and haven’t had a chance to meet you yet, so I thought I’d stop.

Something like that.

I just wanted to meet the woman who holds my husband’s heart.

No, not that.

I reached the door and knocked lightly. No one answered. I knocked again, a little louder. I heard a voice. I put my ear to the wood, sure I’d heard, “Come in.” I heard it again, so I tried the knob. It was unlocked. I eased the door open.

The interior was dark with the drapes pulled, probably to keep the house cooler.

“Who’s there?” The voice came from my left.

“It’s Cate. Pete’s wife.” My eyes hadn’t adjusted entirely, but I could tell someone was resting on the sofa. “Jana?”

“Jah,” she answered.

I stepped closer, starting to say my line, “I haven’t had a chance to meet you. I wanted to intro—”

Her legs were flopping back and forth, actually
writhing,
something I hadn’t seen before but had read about. And there was something on her stomach.

“Are you all right?” I squinted to try to see better.

“My head hurts.” She groaned. “And my back.” Her Kapp was off and her blond hair flowed loose on the pillow. She writhed again.

“How long have you felt this way?” I opened the drapes a crack, enough so I could see her better.

“Since morning.” Her face was puffy, and so was the hand that was clutching the pillow. I stepped closer. It wasn’t a pillow. It was her belly.

“Jana, are you pregnant?”

“Jah.”

I grew cold, even in the warm room. “How far along?”

“About seven months.”

They’d married last December. It was the end of July. I quickly counted the months.
Seven.
But her mound of belly looked much further along than that.

“When was the last time you saw your doctor?”

“I haven’t yet.”

“Okay. Are you having contractions?”

She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

“Can you sit up?”

She shook her head.

Headache. Swelling. Pain in the side.
I thought through the book I’d read on pregnancy. It didn’t sound like labor. There was the condition that had to do with hypertension, and I knew, from other medical books I’d read, that a headache could be a symptom of high blood pressure.

I couldn’t remember what the condition was called. Toxemia? Preeclampsia? Something like that.

“Should I go get John?”

She shook her head.

“Where does your Mamm live?”

“About five miles away.” She started thrashing her legs again.

If her blood pressure was high, it could cause her to start labor. I needed to call 9-1-1.

“Where’s the closest phone?”

“The firehouse.”

For a second I considered getting Jana out to the buggy and hauling her down to the station, but that wouldn’t do—what if her blood pressure was high enough to cause a stroke?

“I’ll be right back,” I said.

“Don’t leave.”

“I’m going to get the paramedics.” I rushed out the door without waiting for her response, sick to my stomach as I ran to the buggy, trying to figure out why Jana hadn’t seen a doctor yet.

There was no way she was only seven months along. I’d been around plenty of women in the days before they delivered. If I was allowed to bet, I’d have wagered the Treger farm that Jana was nine months along, and even if she wasn’t actually in labor, she was really close to having her Bobli.

I untied the horse and jumped into the buggy. As I pulled
out onto the highway, my face flushed in the heat but also at my racing thoughts, and I again counted the months backward to December, when Jana and John had wed. Still seven
.
Chances were she was pregnant before then. Chances were she was pregnant before Pete ever left—

I stopped myself. Right now that wasn’t my concern. The well-being of Jana and her Bobli was all that mattered. I urged the horse to go faster and then faster still, leaning forward as I did, but it seemed as if we were going in slow motion.

Heat rose up from the asphalt. I wiped the sweat from my face with my apron, using one hand. The cows in the field stood statue-still. A bird fluttered up out of a poplar tree and then back down, as if moving at all had been a bad idea. Each time I began counting the months again, I forced myself to concentrate on the landscape.

When I finally reached the station, I yelled as I turned into the driveway. “Help!” I called out again as I pulled the horse to a stop.

A man wearing a baseball hat and a blue T-shirt appeared. I quickly told him what was going on and that the house was the first one on the left, up the highway. “I’m going to go get her husband,” I said. I knew it was probably a volunteer station and he would need to call for help.

“No,” he said. “Go back to the house. I’ll send someone to get him. At the Treger farm, right? Just down the way?”

“Jah,” I called out, turning the horse around.

John arrived in a pickup truck with an Englisch man just as the paramedics loaded Jana into the ambulance. He left with them, riding up front.