Forever Amish (21 page)

CHAPTER 28

The next day I enjoyed working in the secondhand shop more than I thought I would, even if I were fretting about Pops. When I'd left the house in the foggy morning, he was still bedridden. Or so he'd said. Rhoda had promised to call from the shanty phone if his condition worsened.

I helped customers and learned the art of running a consignment shop. An Amish woman who said she often brought Mrs. Martin merchandise arrived with several vintage quilts already priced, but beyond that, I was helpless to stock anything. Mrs. Martin finally called and attempted to answer my questions about pricing a box of used books. She told me to do my best and thanked me profusely, but I warned her she'd need to find my replacement in the near future.

As the hours meandered by, I wasn't surprised when the bishop's wife strolled in and looked the place over. I assumed she was scouting for Lizzie, but she made pleasant conversation and remembered my name, making me wonder if Bishop Troyer had discussed my father. “You may call me Lillian,” she said.

“Thank you, Lillian.” She was the only customer at the time, so I gathered my courage and said, “I don't suppose you know anything about my mother, Mavis Miller?”

Her frame went rigid. “I recall your dat, but—”

The bell on the door clanked and several women entered the store, zeroed in on the new quilts, and inquired about their prices and history. “They should be marked,” I said, hoping the women would be on their way so I could speak to Lillian again. But the next time I looked up, she'd departed.

Throughout the day the fog lifted, exposing an azure sky with small tufts of feather-like clouds, reminding me of an impressionist painting. Warm air was moving in from the south, melting most of the snow that had nearly paralyzed the county yesterday. Yet I had no desire to hop in the Mustang and head home. While nibbling the sandwich Rhoda had packed for me, I pondered whether I could be content living in this world of horse and buggy, where life moved at half time.

Hours later, at five, I closed the shop. I locked the persnickety front door and gave it an extra tug. I recalled my first evening here, helping Lizzie coax the lock, and was glad she'd come home from the Singing the previous night with Armin and me. Apparently, her dreamboat hadn't been there.

At that moment, I spied a blue Chevy compact motoring in my direction. As it passed I noticed a missing hubcap and recognized the dent on its fender. I could make out Joe's profile and a non-Amish brunette cuddled next to him. He must not have seen me, because he slowed and lifted a bottle to his mouth, then kissed her before speeding away.

Now what? Should I tell Lizzie? If I did, would she believe me? She was not a young woman easily deterred, and might even find Joe more desirable if someone else also wanted him.

Jeremy should have been waiting for me in the parking lot as Reuben had dictated to him this morning. But I was delighted when I rounded the building and spotted Armin standing by his open buggy and Thunder.

Ginger belted out a bark. I'd left her at Armin's. He and Lizzie had promised to look after her, and the veterinarian was scheduled to come by in the afternoon. Armin assured me Zach would check her over thoroughly.

Armin proffered his hand and helped me climb in next to Ginger and a boisterous mutt—a handsome collie mix with a black muzzle.

“I'd like you to meet my Rascal.” The large dog waved his plumed tail. “He came around my brother's today looking for me. I knew Rascal would come home eventually.”

“That's wonderful.” I flattened my palm for the dog to sniff.

“He and Ginger have been playing together like they've been buddies their whole lives.” Armin untied Thunder and the horse tossed its luxurious mane. His glossy coat looked to be recently brushed.

“So, Rascal, you came home to your master.” The dog seemed congenial.

“Yah, here to stay.” Armin gripped the reins to steady Thunder.

“What's to keep him from running way again?”

“He never will. Not with Ginger and you here to keep him company.” Rascal jumped behind us and draped his neck over the seat's back. Ginger remained snuggled next to me.

“Did the vet show up today?” I asked.

“Yah.” Armin's lips curved into a smile.

“What did he say about Ginger?” She nosed into me for attention, and I stroked her under the chin.

“Zach Fleming is full of himself, but he knows his stuff. He said Ginger is expecting a small litter in two weeks.”

“I can't believe it. That means the puppies' sire must be Mr. Big.” I felt like weeping for joy.

“What kind of Hund was your Mr. Big?” Armin asked. “A Great Dane?”

“No, a Pembroke Welsh corgi like Ginger.”

Armin muffled a belly laugh. “Yet you called him Mr. Big?”

“Yup.” I couldn't wipe the grin off my face. “I named him Mr. Big for fun.”

“It's been a fine gut day all 'round.” Armin climbed into the buggy. “Mei Bruder, Nathaniel, and I got to talking, and we worked the whole thing out. His wife Esther's—well, her mother Anna's old vacant home—is legally mine. 'Tis in writing. I now own the house and barn and forty acres, without strings.”

“Congratulations,” I said. “That's fantastic.”

“And I've been thinking about you all day, Sally.”

“Did you worry I'd blow it at the secondhand shop?”

“Nee.” He took up the reins as Thunder pranced in place. “I was worried you'd like working there so much you'd never want to quit and stay home to become a housewife.”

“What—?” My words caught in my throat. “What are you talking about?”

“Isn't that what Englisch call a woman who stays home to cook and mind the children?”

This discussion was whizzing along too quickly. He couldn't be referring to the two of us.

“Are you having fun at my expense?” I tried to see what lay behind his coffee-brown eyes, into the depths of his soul.

He stared back without blinking. “I'm as serious as can be. I want to court you. I have since the moment I first laid eyes on you.”

“As in dating?”

“Yah. Serious dating.” His words were as sweet as cotton candy, but our relationship would never work for a myriad of reasons. His gaze fastened on to mine, practically devouring me. He leaned closer until I thought he might kiss me. I couldn't help but notice he had beautiful full lips, straight white teeth, a perfect mouth. But I must not become involved with him, I warned myself.

Thunder's hoof pawed the ground, splintering the fragile moment. “Whoa, now.” Armin jerked away to steady the horse. Then he steered the buggy out of the parking lot and onto the road.

With Armin working the reins, we rolled over asphalt still covered with patches of snow and ice. My thoughts leaped about like acrobats. Listening to the clip-clop, clip-clop, I inhaled the scent of impending spring: damp, fertilized soil, sprouts burrowing toward the light, farm animals—an intoxicating fragrance like no other. As it had been the night of my arrival. I wondered if the newly planted alfalfa had survived the snow. The trees' bare limbs seemed to bulge with new growth. Was it possible for leaves to push their way through the bark in one day? I'd always discounted love at first sight. Was it possible to fall in love with someone so quickly? No, I couldn't be falling for Armin, a near-stranger.

“Are you still planning to have supper with your brother and his wife tonight?” I hoped to change the subject.

“Yah, and I want you to come meet his Esther.”

“Are you sure that's a good idea?” Esther and Nathaniel would probably disapprove of anyone not Amish—not that I'd blame them.

“And wait until you see my new house after we eat supper,” Armin said. “Well, now, it's not new. It was in Esther's family for many a year. But it's as fine gut a house as you'll ever see.”

“When are you moving out of the cabin?”

“Tomorrow.”

“What will I do with Ginger?”

“Reuben said she could join the family in the house. It appears he's finally met a dog he's not allergic to.”

“Really? Are you sure?”

“Yah, he told me so himself.”

Ten minutes later, we arrived at the Zooks' farm and entered the barnyard. I was blown away to see my father lounging on a chair at the bottom of the steps, soaking up the last rays of the lingering sunlight. A quilt wrapped his shoulders and a blanket covered his legs. Pops raised a hand, and Armin slowed the buggy for me to jump out.

“You wait here with me, peewee,” Armin said to Ginger, and my dog obeyed.

I stood for a moment in indecision. I had no idea how to react to my father. All day, the bishop's words about forgiveness had wafted through my thoughts, but deep in my heart lingered a dormant seed of resentment like a wad of chewing gum in my stomach.

“Hi, Pops.” I noticed a folding chair next to him.

“Hey there, Sally girl.” His cheeks wore a healthy glow and his voice was strong—not the man I'd left this morning. “Sorry about the Mustang,” he said. “I replaced the battery.”

“But I gave the key to Armin.”

“I brought a spare one with me.”

“The roads are so slippery.”

“But not for a horse and buggy?”

I glared down at him; I would not be sidetracked by his banter.

He patted the other seat. “Rhoda insisted I come outside for a bit. She's in the kitchen. She's been stuffing me with food all day.”

I lowered myself next to him. “I'm surprised you're still here. Why didn't you head home?”

“My parents—Leah and Leonard—insisted I let Rhoda nurse me back to health. If anyone can, it's my
Schweschder
.” The fact my father was speaking Pennsylvania Dutch hit me like a rainsquall on a cloudless day.

“Rhodie called my doctor in Danbury and is having my medical records sent to a local clinic in Lancaster.” His eyes pooled with moisture. “I'll go see him later this week.”

“I could drive you,” I said.

“She's already arranged for a van to take us. A Mennonite driver.”

“That's good. Do you want me to come with you?”

“Naw, I'll be fine. And while Rhoda was in the phone shanty, I used my cell phone to call Ralph.” His voice cracked. “Ralph said he and his wife and sons will run the car lot for as long as I need.” He pinched between his eyes. “I asked Ralph to be my business partner, and he agreed. I should have done it years ago.”

From a distance, I watched Armin detach the buggy's wooden shafts from Thunder. Ginger seemed content to hang out with Rascal, who tailed Armin and Thunder into the barn. “I'm planning to stick around here until the end of the week if the Zooks will have me,” I said. “Or I'll sleep in the back room at the store where I work.”

“What's your real motive for staying?” He cocooned into the quilt. “Trying to track down your mother?”

“I guess, partly.” I still held hopes Pops knew where she lived. I waited for a few moments, wishing he'd come clean. But no such luck.

“Armin says he wants to spend time with me,” I finally said. “Hard to do long-distance dating when the man drives a horse and buggy.”

“Knock me over with a feather.” He slapped at his knee. “You prefer an Amishman over big-shot Donald? Now I've heard everything.”

I crossed my legs, then uncrossed them. “Would you be opposed?”

“I suppose I like Armin better. But if you married Armin, you'd have to join the church. Unless he doesn't join.”

“I think he will.”

Pops clasped the quilt to his rib cage. “I'm the last man on earth who has a right to give out spiritual counsel, but you're jumping into this too quickly. Think of all you'd be giving up.”

“If you could do it all over again, would you have left?” I asked.

“No use fretting about the past when we can't change it. You, on the other hand, have your whole future ahead of you. Don't commit to a man and a lifestyle you know nothing about.”

“I'm not planning to marry him tomorrow.” As the sun lowered behind the forested hills, I gazed at the remnants of the sun's radiance. “I like Rhoda so much.” And Armin. He'd captured my heart. The jury was still out when it came to Lizzie. No, I liked her in spite of what Pops would label her monkey business. She and Pops shared several dubious character traits. Somehow, she'd reeled me into her home, landed me a job, and introduced me to Armin, a man few women could resist.

As I watched Armin exit the barn, I felt a knot coiling at the back of my throat. I'd almost married the wrong man. I shouldn't walk off a cliff blindfolded unless I knew for certain a safety net was at the bottom to catch me. I hadn't even broken off Donald's and my engagement. I needed to return his ring in person.

But I couldn't leave Pops. “Maybe I should drive us both home,” I said to him.

“No, I'm sticking around, since it's all arranged.”

“You're comfortable living under Reuben's roof?”

He crossed his legs at the ankles. “After tomorrow, if I'm strong enough, I'll sleep in Armin's cabin.”

“No way. It's too cold.” I hugged myself to ward off the chill air.

“Nee, it isn't. He has a woodstove. Besides, spring's right around the corner. Remember, I grew up without electricity.”

“How can I remember something I never knew?” The prickly feeling I'd lived with most of my life besieged me like a case of poison ivy. I needed space. “Fine, you do what you want. I need to drive home next weekend to take care of some unfinished business.”

“How will you get there?” Pops cocked his head. “That Mustang belongs to me.”

“But you gave me permission to use it.”

“That was then and this is now.”

As Armin strode toward Pops and me, I felt a magnetic pull. He came to a stop several yards away, Ginger and Rascal at his side.