Katie's Choice (18 page)

It was after three before the last of the churchgoers left. A clique or two of teenagers still hung around, eager to get to tonight’s singing. Katie Rose smiled remembering the times she had waited for Samuel Beachy to come pick her up for the Sunday singing.

She folded up another of the tables and balanced one side on the ground until John Paul came over to lift it and take it into the barn. Tonight’s festivities would be fun and loud, couples discovering each other and hoping to make a place in the community for themselves. The couples destined to be married this year had already stated their intentions, but next year’s couples were as of yet unspoken. Tonight a few of those pairs might state intentions to each other, promises they would keep a secret for the entire time of their courtship. That was the Amish way.

But it was just as fun to watch for pairings of the boys and girls. Many of those happened after they left her classroom, but the following year when the students who had graduated returned for their German lessons, the pairing began. Katie Rose could almost see them in advance. How ironic that she had not been able to see the truth about Samuel Beachy when it was right before her eyes, and yet she could tell the intentions of others.

John Paul took the weight of the next table and nodded toward the barn. Caleb and Lilly stood there, talking quietly while everyone else drank the rest of the lemonade and chased the kittens around.

“There’s a match if’n I ever saw one.”

Katie Rose shook her head. “Maybe as far as Caleb was concerned, but Lilly wants to stretch her legs a bit more before folding them down to join up with the church.”

He shook his head with a jaunty wink. “I’ll bet you a strawberry rhubarb pie they’ll end up married this time next year.”

Katie Rose let him take the table, then propped her hands on her hips, aware that as she did so she probably looked remarkably like their mother. “First of all, John Paul Fisher, it is a sin to place wagers, and second of all, where are you going to get a pie?” She raised her brows at him and tapped her foot waiting on the answer.

John Paul smiled in his crooked way that got him nearly everything he could want from life. The boy was too charming by far. “I don’t think the bishop or the deacon could find fault with a friendly little wager, sister dear, and I won’t need one, seein’ as I’m right. They’ll be married soon enough. If not this year, then surely the next.”

“They’re too young,” she said. “For this year or the next.” Caleb, the bishop’s youngest son had just turned sixteen in the summer. And Lilly Grace Miller was only now out of Katie Rose’s classroom.

Still, she could tell the young man had his choice of a wife already picked out and that lucky girl was Lilly. If Lilly were truly lucky, Samuel Beachy’s younger brother would find his
rumspringa
complete when the time came to bow before the church, and he wouldn’t go traipsing off to see more of the world.

She pushed down that uncharitable thought. Now was not the time to bring up ghosts from the past. It was a beautiful day, a singing was about to begin, and there was work to be done.

Katie Rose stood on her parents’ porch and gazed up at the stars that decorated the night sky. She had stayed after the service to help get ready for the singing. Her mother had been through her last cancer treatment weeks ago, but the medications and radiation had taken a toll on her overall health. They only had a few more weeks to go before
Mamm
would be declared cancer free, and the time couldn’t pass quickly enough for Katie Rose. Not that she minded the extra work. Amish life was full of needs for family and community, but she looked forward to the day when her mother would start to feel like herself again. The light had gone out in her mother’s eyes, and Katie Rose knew that every day she fought with the needs of her body versus the needs of her family. Her body was winning, but no one could convince her to take it easy. She wasn’t about to let her family down, let anyone do without because she was not feeling as well as could be. No, Ruth Fisher continued on like nothing had ever happened.

A perfect example would be today’s church service. Several families had offered to host the service in order to let her parents have a break from the responsibilities, but Ruth wouldn’t even talk about it. When someone brought it up, she ignored them and went to the kitchen to bake another loaf of bread for the occasion.

Finally everyone just stopped talking and started helping instead.

Now that it was nearly done, Katie Rose breathed a sigh of relief. Their duty was over—until it was Gabe’s turn to hold the service—but with the Lord’s help, her mother would be long past her mending before his time came around.

She glanced toward the barn, the light coming through the crack between the doors showing no signs of going out anytime soon. Strange music floated on the cool, gentle breeze, as if someone had brought in some type of battery-powered radio. She supposed she should go out there and stop them, but since most of those still left were living in their run-around years, she decided against it. Better they figure out their path now than weeks before their time to join the church.

As she stared out into the night, letting her thoughts skip from topic to topic as it would, two figures rounded the corner of the barn and started toward her.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go?” John Paul asked.

That could only mean the other shadowy silhouette belonged to . . .

“There’s no way I’m riding in that car with you ever again.”

“Suit yourself.” John Paul clapped Zane Carson on the back and headed across to the field behind the phone shanty where
Dat
made her
bruder
keep his car.

As far as she was concerned, John Paul was taking his
rumspringa
a bit too seriously. He hadn’t even made out like he was seeking the company of a young girl with hopes that she would one day be his wife. Instead he left the house at all hours of the night, going who knows where and doing who knows what for hours on end.
Rumspringa
was one thing, but Katie Rose had a feeling that had her mother not been ill, her father would have not let John Paul’s
rumspringa
be so . . . liberal. Especially since her sister, Megan, had left to see the world, much like Samuel Beachy. And like Samuel, Megan Fisher had yet to return. Katie Rose had been unable to find her missing sister to tell her of their mother’s illness. Not that it would bring her back—no one had spoken to Meg in years. Yet despite the heartache she had caused, Katie Rose hoped her sister was faring well in the
Englisch
world.

She watched her brother cross the paved county road toward his car, and said a tiny prayer as he hopped in and sped away. Then she turned back to find Zane Carson approaching her through the night.

Part of Katie Rose wanted to tuck tail and head back into the warmth of the house. Her father could take care of the young people left singing in the barn, but nothing called for her return home. By now Gabe had put the children to bed, all but Mary Elizabeth. Secretly, Katie Rose was glad when these opportunities arose.

As much as she loved taking care of her brother and his children, she wondered if perhaps her presence in his household had kept them both from reaching for the lives that should have been theirs. Or at least his. Katie Rose knew that Gabe had loved Rebecca with all of his heart. Everything not given to God was offered up to his wife and family. When she died, a part of Gabe died with her. Unlike Gideon, Gabriel hid his grief, called her fateful childbirth God’s will, and moved on. But only part way. Instead of remarrying, like most Amish men, he simply relied on Katie Rose to care for his family.

She had waited too long. Zane Carson now stood at the foot of the porch, gazing up at her face.

“Hi, there.”

She hoped that the night shadows hid her expression from him. She didn’t want him to see how happy she was that he’d come to find her. “Good night to you, Zane Carson.”

He hooked his fingers through his suspenders and rocked back on his heels. “Come walk with me, Katie Rose.”

She shook her head.

“Why not?”

“An Amish gentleman is never so bold as to ask a lady to walk with him after dark.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not Amish.”

Ach
, she had noticed all right. That was most of the problem. Too much time spent with him, and she was for sure and for certain when he left town he’d take a big hunk of her heart with him. It was better by far to leave it this way.

“Where’d you get those pants, Zane Carson?”

He looked down at his too-short pants as if seeing them for the first time. “I believe they are a gift from your father. A lesson in humility.”

She couldn’t stop herself and laughed at his joke, her defenses crumbling around her. Amish were never good at that anyway. They were not fighters. How could she be expected to keep these feelings at bay? She had warned herself against those deep brown eyes, against that dimpled smile, but his sense of humor and good spirit? She had no fortifications for that.

“Are you going to walk with me or not?”

“And if I say
nay
?”

“Then I might call you a chicken.”

Katie Rose smiled into the night. “And if that doesn’t work?”

“Then I’ll ask again, even nicer this time.”

“And if the answer is still
nay
?”

“Then I might resort to begging.”

She stopped and stared at him through the darkness of the night.

“Are you going to make me beg, Katie Rose?”

She shook her head. When had his tone changed from funny banter to funeral serious? She should tell him no. All the common sense she had told her to say
nay
, then gather up a flashlight and run home as fast as she could. “I will not let you beg. Nor will I walk with you. It is time I went home, Zane Carson.”

“Then I’ll walk you there.”

She shook her head.

“Surely that’s an Amish enough virtue, to not let a lady walk home in the dark unprotected.”

He would protect her, she knew that without a doubt, but who was going to protect her heart from him and those deep brown eyes? She sighed. “All right, then.”

She went back into the house and told her father good night. Her mother had long since gone to bed, the extra effort of hosting the church service taking most of her energy.

Katie Rose’s heart thumped loudly in her chest as she made her way back out onto the porch. Zane was still standing where she’d left him, like an anxious suitor awaiting his love. But he was
Englisch
not Amish. She had heard tales of
Englisch
men and their lack of morals, their disregard for the holy, their wild desires when it came to matters of the flesh.

She shivered, then pulled her shawl a little closer around her. She should have brought a coat. And she should have never agreed to walk home with Zane Carson.

He didn’t say a word as they headed for the road, moonlight and the stars shining almost as brightly as the light he carried.

“There are so many more stars here than in Chicago,” he said, gazing up at the sky.

Katie Rose kept her arms wrapped around her, but tilted her face upward to the darkened sky. “How can that be, Zane Carson? The sky only changes at the bottom of the world.”

He lifted one shoulder in half a shrug. “City lights, I guess. Block out the light from the stars. Or maybe the stars are there, but the lights distract everybody from noticing.”

She couldn’t imagine living in a big city like that. Her visits to Tulsa were enough to make her head spin.

They walked a few more minutes, slower than average so they could study the stars. Katie Rose wished she knew what he was thinking. What did he see when he looked at the heavens?

“Are you cold?” He nodded toward her arms still folded around her.

“A little,” she admitted. The night had a definite chill in the air. Fall was well on its way.

“If I had a coat, I’d lend it to you.”

She nodded, secretly glad he didn’t. It would smell like him, and she didn’t think she could stand walking home wrapped in his scent. Just having him beside her was chore enough.

“Why didn’t you ever get married, Katie Rose?”

She gave a halfhearted shrug. No one had ever asked her that before. “It just never came up.”

“Because of Samuel Beachy?”

She turned to look at him, but his face was in shadow, his expression hidden by the night. “Who told you about Samuel?”

“John Paul may have mentioned it a time or two.”

Katie Rose shook her head. “It is a sin to speak ill of others, but John Paul is almost as chatty as Beth Troyer.”

“Now I know who to talk to when I need information.”

She smiled. “You don’t want to hear my tale.”

“Actually, I do.”

She watched the rise and fall of his broad shoulders, before she answered. “John Paul told Mary Elizabeth that you are gettin’ married when you return to Chicago.”

“He is a chatterbox.”

“I think
rumspringa
has loosened his tongue.”