Her Restless Heart (19 page)

"What was it like growing up with so many females in your house?"

He leaned back in his chair and grinned. "Part of me wanted to be the big brother and protect them and part of me wanted to drive them crazy."

"Which did you do most often?"

"Drive them crazy, of course." He grinned.

She laughed. "I thought you'd say that."

"Don't worry, they did their share to me, too, ganging up on me because there were more of them. And Rebecca's done her share of giving me a hard time, too."

"I wanted to stop by and thank you again for bringing the flowers to my mother. She loves sitting out on the porch and looking at them."

"No need to thank me. Your mother invited me to supper so often when I was younger, she probably thought she had a second child."

"She loved doing it. Even though she never said much about it, I think she wanted more children. I'm sure my father wanted a son."

He nodded. "Some men do. Some are happy with what God wills."

A buggy rolled past, and one of his neighbors waved. Jacob waved back. "So, have you had supper?"

She shook her head. "I just came from the shop."

When she took a deep breath, Jacob wondered what she was about to tell him.

"It's last minute, but I thought if you hadn't eaten you might like to go for pizza."

Relief flooded him, but he didn't let on.

"Jamie and Ben are going," she said quickly.

He lifted his eyebrows. "Chaperones?"

She blushed. "Of course not. They—seem to be seeing a lot of each other."

He nodded. "I know. I'm not sure why."

"Jamie's a sweet girl—"

"I know," he said quickly, holding up his hand. "But where can it lead? He's Amish, she's
Englisch."
He paused. "Very
Englisch."

"We've had
Englisch
join our church. Jenny Bontrager and Chris Matlock, remember? And it's worked out well for them." She shrugged. "Anyway, Jamie says he's just a friend."

"There's a lot of that going on lately," he said, rising and checking his pockets for cash.

"It's my treat for saving me from the storm that day."

"There's no need—"

"It's my treat," she told him firmly.

"Yes, ma'am," he said. "I'll go hitch up the buggy. Lock the front door for me?"

"Sure."

She stood and walked to the door, opened it, and turned the lock. After she closed it, she jiggled the doorknob to make sure it was locked.

Jacob started down the stairs and saw another buggy rolling past. Josiah leaned out his window and stared at them. Jacob waved, but all he got was a frown from the old man. Well, he wasn't surprised. He'd known Josiah all his life, and he'd seldom seen him without a frown. His mother had told him on more than one occasion that if he screwed up his face it might freeze that way one day. He'd heard other mothers say something similar. Jacob figured maybe Josiah's had done that.

Mary Katherine knew she was playing with fire.

So she was careful to sit as close to her door as possible. She didn't think she could ever forget how she felt sitting so close to Jacob, to feel that sexual pull. Although she'd never kissed a man, never even been as physically close to one as she had been that rainy day, she knew what went on between a man and a woman. After all, she'd grown up on a farm. Like she'd told Jamie, she was Amish, not stupid.

It was a heady feeling, knowing that a man wanted you.

It was scary, wanting him back.

She was so restless, so unsure of what she wanted now that she was old enough to be able to reach for it. Her work had almost fallen into her lap. Oh, she had worked for it, had studied it and practiced it and been humble enough to keep trying for perfection, and she knew she was very lucky to be doing it.

No, she didn't believe in luck. The Amish didn't. What a person did well—it was a gift from God to be humble about.

And she'd had the friendship of this man who understood her so well. That was a gift as well, to be understood. Only a few people had ever really understood her.

What if she was wrong about how he felt about her? She glanced sideways at him and found him watching her.

There it was again . . . that look of desire. She wasn't wrong about that.

And even her grandmother and her cousins thought he was the right man for her.

Had God dropped the man he'd set aside for her into her lap and she hadn't been watching, hadn't been listening to Him?

"You okay? You're quiet."

"Busy day. I'll be glad to relax. And eat lots of pizza." She glanced at the fields of a neighbor of Jacob's. "When do you start your planting?"

"Tomorrow." He glanced at her. "So Ben better eat lots of pizza tonight so he has energy,
ya?"

"
Ya."
She laughed.

The restaurant was crowded, noisy, and full of the delicious aromas that drew people in despite its being crowded and your almost needing to yell to be heard even when sitting in a tiny booth.

Mary Katherine exchanged a look with Jacob when they approached the booth where Jamie and Ben sat very close together. When Ben looked up and saw Jacob, he reddened and put distance between them.

"Look who I brought," Mary Katherine said lightly as Jacob gestured for her to slide into the booth before he seated himself.

"Glad you could come," Jamie said. "We ordered a pepperoni pizza. If that's not what you want, you can order one that you like. We can always take the leftovers from ours home."

"Ben, on the way here Jacob said you should eat lots of pizza to have energy to plant tomorrow."

Ben grinned. "I intend to."

A waitress came to place a pizza in front of them.

"I don't think there'll be leftovers," Jamie said, picking up a slice of pizza. "I intend to eat a lot of it, and I'm not planting tomorrow."

Mary Katherine chose a slice of pizza and began eating. It felt so good to be out with friends, not having to walk around tense at her parents' house. Normal. Things were getting back to normal.

They talked about jobs and local events and how nice it was that spring had finally come. Another pizza came and was demolished along with pitchers of soft drinks.

"I can't move," Mary Katherine said. "Why did I eat so much?"

"Let's go to the little girls' room," Jamie said.

"Why do they call it that?" Ben asked.

"Euphemism," they heard Jacob say behind them.

"Huh?" Ben said.

"You remember. Our parents and our teacher spent a lot of time teaching us about finding something different to say at times, like not taking the Lord's name in vain and choosing another word. Maybe Jamie didn't want to say 'restroom.' Now, don't even think about taking that last slice. It's mine, remember?"

Jamie slipped her arm through Mary Katherine's as they walked toward the restrooms. "So great to hear your mom's doing well and you're back at your grandma's and the shop. So, when are you and Jacob going to announce your engagement? You call it that, right?"

"We're not getting engaged. Have you been talking to my cousins?"

"Of course." She went into a stall and shut the door. "So, when?"

Mary Katherine held her hands under the faucet and water began to flow. Such an amazing thing. You didn't even need to turn on the faucet. What would the
Englisch
think of next?

"Well?" Jamie called out.

"Can't hear you. Water's running."

The toilet flushed, and Jamie came out, pumped some hand soap, and lathered up. She glanced over. "Having fun?"

"The
Englisch
world . . ." she shook her head.

Jamie rinsed her hands, reached for some paper towels, and handed Mary Katherine one. She leaned back against the sink and met Mary Katherine's gaze. "You know, you're fascinated by stuff in my world, but I think you're just having a temporary dissatisfaction with things that have nothing to do with you really wanting to leave your community."

"Oh?"

"I've known a lot of Amish and the ones who leave . . . well, they're attracted to so many things. The technology. The freedom. Cars. Music. Sometimes alcohol and stuff like that. None of those things seem to interest you. I'm your only
Englisch
friend. And the fact that you're drawn to Jacob . . . well, you'll never find a great guy like that in my world."

"That's pretty cynical, don't you think? Just because your last boyfriend—"

"Let's not talk about him." She tossed her crumpled-up towel in the trash can, then took Mary Katherine's and did the same with it.

"So is that why you're attracted to Ben?"

"He's a friend."

"You looked pretty . . . friendly with him when we walked in."

"A close friend," Jamie said with a grin. Then her grin faded. "He hasn't joined the church yet, but he's a fish out of water like you. Well, guess we better get back before they wonder what we're up to. They had this funny skit on TV once where the men were trying to guess what women did when they spent so much time in the ladies' room," she told Mary Katherine on the way out of the restroom. "The guys figured we had a spa in here."

"A spa?"

Jamie patted her back. "Facials, massages, manicures. Fancy stuff. I'm just a working girl. I wouldn't know about all that."

"Me, either," Mary Katherine said. "This restroom is as fancy as I've ever seen."

It was dark by the time they left the restaurant. The stars were out, and the road was empty of cars.

"Cold?"

"I'm fine."

"Thank you for supper." He glanced over at her. "It's the first time I've been taken to supper by a woman."

"I remember a lot of girls hung around you when we went to
schul."

He laughed. "Back then I didn't have much time for them. Not after
Dat
died."

"But that's been years."

"I guess I just had this sense that I'd know when the time was right." He glanced at her. "For a while there I thought that I might have misread something."

"Misread?" Her heart began thumping.

"I thought you were interested in Daniel. But you're not, are you?"

She shook her head, not entirely sure where this was going.

He glanced behind him and then pulled over. "Are you any closer to making a decision about joining the church?"

Then, before she could speak, he shook his head and waved a hand. "No, it's not right to ask that. I don't want to pressure you."

Her heart felt like it skipped a beat. "Not yet. It's such a big decision."

"Decision?" he asked. "Just one?"

14

A
nother church service, and God hadn't talked to her.

Mary Katherine sighed as she watched the women sitting around her get up and leave the room.

She supposed it was ridiculous to expect God to talk to her while others were—while the lay ministers talked and everyone sang and attention was generally on other things.

Maybe He just wasn't interested in communicating with her when she hadn't talked to him much in a long time. But she'd had a good reason. He hadn't listened to her when she'd been so unhappy on her parents' farm. She'd prayed and prayed and prayed, and the only reason she was out of there was because her grandmother had come to ask her parents if she could live with her and help her there and at the shop.

Funny, she thought now. It was the first time she'd seen her grandmother act . . . old and say that she needed help. But her grandmother still insisted on doing her own housework— Mary Katherine got to help only because she insisted—and any helping at the shop? She'd been encouraged to spend a lot of her time there working on her weaving.

"You're looking thoughtful."

Mary Katherine looked up and saw Jenny Bontrager smiling down at her. "I . . . guess."

"May I?" Jenny gestured at the chair beside her.

Nodding, she watched the other woman take a seat.

"I should help with the food, but I thought I'd say hello. I wanted to tell you that the pillows I bought from you are really pretty in my living room. I thought I'd order another set in blue for my friend, Joy."

"I'm so glad you like them. And thanks for the order. I can have the new ones to you in a week. Is that okay?"

"Two weeks is fine. They're for her birthday next month, so there's time."

Mary Katherine withdrew a notebook from her purse and jotted a note to herself about the order.

The bishop walked into the room, stopped, and looked at them over the tops of his wire-rimmed glasses, then walked out, his hands clasped behind him.

Jenny shivered, and then she grimaced. "I'm sorry, that was irreverent. No, make that disrespectful. He's the bishop, after all. But he just kind of scares me, he's so stern. I liked the bishop we had when I joined the church."

She tilted her head and stared at the doorway the man had exited through. "He reminds me a little of Josiah, the elder who wasn't very happy about me coming to this community or joining the church."

"The bishop isn't happy that I'm taking so long to join the church."

"But it's not like you're old!"

"True." She hesitated, then took a deep breath. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

Before Mary Katherine could frame the question, Matthew, Jenny's husband, appeared in the doorway. She held up two fingers in some kind of signal he understood, and he left them.

"I'm sorry, this isn't a good time for you."

Jenny smiled. "It's a fine time. What's your question?"

"How did you make your decision to become Amish? I mean, you'd been
Englisch
all your life."

"I always felt very comfortable here." Jenny brushed at imaginary lint on the skirt of her dress. "My father grew up here, and though he chose not to become Amish and stay in the community, he let me come here during the summers to visit my grandmother."

Several men came in and began moving the chairs around for the snack that would be served.

"Let's go out onto the porch, shall we?"

Mary Katherine followed her there, and they stood out of the way of people coming and going.

"I fell in love with Matthew, the boy next door, so to speak, but I went away to college. Then I went overseas, was injured, and ended up back here."

She stared off at the fields, and Mary Katherine wondered what she was thinking.

"I came back to Paradise feeling like God had abandoned me. But then after a while it seemed like everything became clearer. While I was recuperating, it seemed like everything clicked."

"Especially with a certain man," Mary Katherine teased.

"Yes," Jenny said with a reminiscent smile. "But it's not an easy decision to change your faith to marry. Especially to this faith."

She glanced down at her Plain dress, then looked up as a buggy passed. "It was still a bit of a culture shock, even though I knew more about it than most
Englisch."

She looked at Mary Katherine. "Joining the church is a big decision. It can't be done quickly or lightly. I think most everyone understands that. Don't let the bishop or anyone else make you feel you have to do it by a certain time if you're not comfortable."

"Anyone else?"

"The Amish grapevine is at work," Jenny said with a grin. "Jacob's a nice man."

Mary Katherine rolled her eyes. "Not you, too."

Jenny patted her arm. "Sorry, I couldn't help myself. I remember what it was like to have Matthew's sister put in a good word for her brother, too. I haven't known Jacob as long as you, but he seems like a very good man."

The door opened, and she brightened when she saw Matthew exit the house and walk toward her. "But she was right. My sister-in-law, I mean."

"Feeling
allrecht?"
he asked, his expression concerned.

Jenny covered a big yawn with her hand and then placed it on her rounded abdomen. "Yes, but I sure could use a nap."

"I'll get the
kinner
and the buggy."

He strode away, a tall, handsome man who reminded her a little of Jacob. She remembered that they were distant cousins, third or fourth, something like that.

"Anything else you want to ask me?"

Mary Katherine shook her head. "No. Thanks."

Jenny touched her hand. "No, thank
you."

"Me? For what?"

"For reminding me of all I have to be grateful for now."

Mary Katherine jumped when she heard a squeal from the other end of the porch.

She looked up and saw a little boy who was the image of Matthew come toddling toward them with outstretched arms.

"There he is!" Jenny exclaimed, chuckling. "Mr. Mischief!" She turned to Mary Katherine. "He kept us up with teething pain last night and then was out of his crib this morning playing with the cat."

Mary Katherine sat there for a long time after Jenny left, thinking about what she'd said. Then she realized that she should have been helping the other women with the food.

But the bishop was probably still inside. Sighing, she squared her shoulders and headed for the kitchen.

"I think someone's looking for you," her grandmother told her as she entered the kitchen.

"Oh?" Mary Katherine's shoulders slumped.

"In there," Leah said, jerking her head toward the living room.

With a feeling of dread, she started out of the room.

"Here, take this with you." Leah handed her a plate.

"Like I'm going to be able to eat," she muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing."

But when she walked into the room, instead of the bishop, she found her mother laughing and talking with her next-door neighbor.

"We came in late, so we sat in the back," her mother said. "I saw you talking to Jenny. Such a nice woman." She glanced at the plate in Mary Katherine's hand. "That looks good. Lizzie, we should get something to eat."

"This is for you." She handed her the plate and kissed her on her cheek. "What would you like to drink?"

"That iced tea looks good," she said, jerking her head toward the woman at the next table who was drinking it. "Are you going to join us?"

"Sure. Let me go get your tea and some food for myself."

Her mind on the surprise, she didn't see someone in front of her until she ran into him.

"Oh, sorry!"

"No problem," Jacob said, grinning. "I was just looking for you."

"I'm getting my mother something to drink," she told him.

His eyebrows went up. "She's here? I'll go say hello. Then maybe we can talk?" He turned, then glanced over his shoulder, and there was that look on his face—that look he'd been giving her—before he strode away.

Her face felt warm as she moved toward the kitchen.

The kitchen was crowded with women preparing the meal. Her cousin Naomi stood at the counter pouring glasses of iced tea.

"Can I get some iced tea for my mother?"

"
Schur."

"Naomi!" A young man stuck his head in the doorway. "Let's go. Now."

"John! Say hello to Mary Katherine."

Looking reluctant, he moved closer. "Hello." He turned to Naomi. "Let's go."

"I'll be just a few more minutes," she said, handing Mary Katherine the glass of tea. "Why don't you wait on the porch?"

"Five minutes," he said and turned on his heel.

"He wants to take me to lunch in town," Naomi explained, shrugging. "Tell your mother I said hello. I'll stop by later this week to see her."

"Okay." Mary Katherine watched as Naomi hurried out of the kitchen.

After she fixed a plate of food, she picked up the glass of tea that Naomi had prepared but forgotten to give her. Anna hadn't particularly cared for John, and he certainly wasn't growing on Mary Katherine.

She found it hard to have a conversation with her mother when one person after another had to welcome her back after her absence, but it did Mary Katherine's heart good to see that her mother had been missed. Through the years, Miriam had been overshadowed by her husband's stronger personality; now, with him out of town on some errand, not being rushed off as was his habit to do after church, she clearly enjoyed the attention and knowledge that she'd been missed.

What Mary Katherine noticed was that few people asked Miriam about her husband's absence. Maybe it was because they knew the reason. Mary Katherine might not get along with her father, but she derived no pleasure in the fact that he didn't seem to get along all that well with others. It was sad, really.

"So you were talking really seriously with Jenny," her mother said when there was a lull in people stopping by to talk to her.

Mary Katherine found herself thinking about what Jenny had said.

Miriam cleared her throat. "That was a hint."

"Oh, sorry. We just chatted about this and that."

She was grateful when someone interrupted them and let her thoughts drift again. Maybe God hadn't talked directly to her. But maybe He'd put Jenny in her path today to talk to her instead. It was something to think about.

Her grandmother had once said that there was a reason why we weren't put on Earth by ourselves. We're supposed to learn something from other people, and they from us, she'd said.

She was in this community for a reason, she was coming to realize, even as it had caused a restlessness in her. This faith-filled community had shaped everything about her—given her stability, loving relationships—well, all but the one with her father. Here she'd grown up with a man who was a friend, then a best friend who understood her better than anyone she knew. A man who wanted a deeper relationship with her but was willing to set aside his own needs so that she could make her own decisions about faith and about their spending the rest of her life with him.

She relaxed and breathed in the peaceful atmosphere of after-church here in the house of one of her longtime friends, and when Jacob walked into the room and his eyes searched for her, she smiled and lifted her hand.

And felt the restlessness leaving her like the tide on a shore.

There were some things that couldn't be avoided. People, actually.

Apparently, the bishop was one of them.

He showed up again at the shop a few days later and was closeted with her grandmother in the back room for nearly half an hour. When he came out, he was frowning and her grandmother was smiling as she walked behind him.

Mary Katherine bit her lip so she wouldn't smile when the man turned and her grandmother quickly changed her expression.

"Think about what I said."

"Oh, I will," Leah told him pleasantly. "Thank you for stopping by."

Leah waited until he left, went to the store window to assure herself that he had walked out of sight, then turned back to her granddaughters, who were anxiously waiting to hear what had happened.

"He came in to grumble again about how he didn't think we were looking like we offered traditional Amish crafts and goods."

"My work, in other words. He means my work."

"Well, it doesn't matter whose things he's talking about," Leah said, smiling now. "He came in to grumble, but he can't do more. I'd heard he went to others in authority in the church, and they didn't agree with him. So we have nothing to worry about."

Mary Katherine breathed a sigh of relief. She'd been so upset when he came into the shop the first time and complained. She remembered what Jenny Bontrager said at church two weeks ago, about how she liked the last bishop better than this one, and had to agree.

Now she wondered if Jenny had heard about the bishop's visit and was trying to send her a subtle signal that things did change, even in their community.

Well, it didn't really matter. She felt easier about it all. Going to her loom, she sat and began working again.