Katie's Way (18 page)

Katie's trying to insist on paying him—well, that was just an example of her way of doing things. Independent. Determined to stand on her own two feet.

He wasn't going to cooperate with her on this one. She would have her shelves, just like his. He and William would see to that.

Caleb stood for a moment, looking around the cellar. Was he ever going to come down here without reliving the moment when he'd kissed her? Maybe not. But that didn't mean he had to dwell on it.

Since what had happened with Mattie Weaver, he'd steered clear of getting too close to anyone, at first because it was just too painful. Eventually . . . well, he'd realized it was safer that way, safer not to let anyone in, especially not another woman.

Besides, most of the community thought the worst of him for what had happened with Mattie. He couldn't entangle someone else in that gossip, even if he found a woman he wanted.

He started up the stairs. Funny. From the moment Katie Miller had rented the shop, he'd thought that having a woman sharing the space would cause problems. He sure hadn't figured on this kind of problem.

Caleb went through to his shop. Everything was quiet and in order, the front door locked, the shade down. Becky had taken care of that before she left. She'd done some rearranging, too, he noticed. He studied the way she'd grouped some of the pieces, putting a small table between two rockers, as if they invited a person to sit down. Nice, that was. Better than the way he'd lined pieces up in rows.

All was quiet on Katie's side, as well. Looked as if he wouldn't be talking to her again today, and maybe that was best. Give the memory of those moments in the cellar a chance to fade for both of them.

He pulled the back door shut behind him and stepped onto the porch. The crew Bishop Mose had brought in must have finished for the day. They'd left an open trench, and were probably planning to lay pipe in it tomorrow. Katie's mare would have to stay in the stable until that was finished.

The bishop stood by the plastic tape that blocked off the area, gesturing as he talked to Katie, who stood next to him. He must be explaining the work, judging by the gestures. Katie nodded, and the breeze that had come up after the rain lifted a loose strand of her hair. She smoothed it back into place with her hand. For an instant Caleb's palm tingled, as if he had done it, feeling the silky texture of her hair against his fingers.

It would definitely be better if he'd been able to avoid seeing her for a few days. With most women in the community he felt that there was an invisible barrier in place between them. They knew about him, about Mattie. Whether they still blamed him or not, the knowledge was in their eyes when they looked at him.

Katie was different. Of course, she'd been told what most folks believed, but it didn't seem to affect her. Maybe that was why . . .

He snapped that thought off before it could go any further. Sure, there was plenty to admire about Katie. He liked the obvious pleasure she took in running her shop and the interest she showed in every person who walked through her door. That interest was genuine, and people could tell. He'd never succeed in talking to folks that easily, even if it did lead to more sales.

He'd been standing here too long, and they'd be wondering about him. He couldn't just leave without stopping to talk. He started toward them, the ground still soggy under his feet.

“Caleb, gut. What do you think of the work so far?” Bishop Mose gestured toward the trench.

“I can't say I know much about it.” He studied the trench in preference to looking at Katie and maybe having the bishop's wise eyes detecting his feelings. “It seems like it would keep the water from pooling close to the building, though.”

“Ja, that's the idea. I was just explaining to Katie.” Bishop Mose shook his head. “I wouldn't have had this happen for the world. If there's anything that was damaged, you chust tell me, and I'll make it gut.”

“No need for that,” Katie said quickly. “It was the push I needed to get the rest of my boxes sorted, that's all. And everyone has been so helpful.”

There was something—a quick flash of what might have been sorrow—in her eyes. Then it was gone, and Katie was smiling.

“Ja, for me as well,” Caleb said. “Nothing was damaged. When I got here, Katie and Rhoda were already moving my things up on the shelves.”

He paused, but maybe saying it in front of the bishop would seal the plan so Katie would stop arguing. “William and I will build shelves on Katie's side of the cellar. I've got some pine boards in the attic that will work fine for that.”

“I'll pay—” Katie began, of course.

“Indeed you will not,” Bishop Mose said. “The responsibility is mine, and I will pay to have shelves put in.”

“Nobody will pay,” Caleb said, exasperated. “The wood is free, and so is our work. It's a simple thing to do for a neighbor.”

Bishop Mose studied Caleb's face for a moment, and it wondered him what the bishop was thinking.

Then Bishop Mose nodded. “Gut. That's settled, then. And we'll all be plenty busy these next couple of weeks if Lisa Macklin's idea goes well.”

“Lisa Macklin?” Caleb knew the Englisch woman, of course, just like he knew all the merchants in Pleasant Valley. But what was the bishop talking about?

“Ja, the idea to have special sale days the beginning of June. Didn't she stop by to see you two yet?”

Caleb shook his head, but Katie nodded. “I knew a little about it,” she said. “Lisa asked if I would go in on an ad she was planning. I said I would, as long as Bishop Mose didn't object, and he said it was all right.”

“Ja, I told Mrs. Macklin I thought it was a fine idea, so long as she didn't use the word
Amish
to advertise. I've seen enough of that in places like Lancaster County, where they get a lot of tourists. And you can be sure that any shop that puts Amish in its name isn't run by Amish folks.”

“I've seen that, too,” Caleb said, thinking of the trip he'd made to visit Daad's distant cousins in Lancaster after Mattie left.

“Well, that's not going to happen here,” Bishop Mose said, his tone brisk. “But like Mrs. Macklin says, we all need people to buy things from us if we're going to stay in business.”

“Ja, that's what I think.” Katie's face grew animated. “Lisa says that advertising the special sale days in those tourist papers they put out in Lewisburg and Mifflinburg will bring shoppers in. And if they like what they see, maybe they'll return.”

“We can all use that.” Bishop Mose nudged Caleb with his elbow. “Don't you agree?”

“I guess so.” He managed a smile. “I'm not so gut a salesperson as you two are, I think.”

Bishop Mose chuckled, turning toward the lane. “That little niece of yours is coming right along, though. I asked her about the nice display she made in your window, and she said Katie gave her the idea.”

“Ja?” He'd have to go and look at his own window. “I guess I hadn't noticed that, but she has been keeping the place sparkling, and she even rearranged pieces so the shop looks more homey and friendly.”

Maybe that idea of Becky's had come from Katie, as well. He wasn't sure how he felt about that.

“I didn't tell her what to do,” Katie said quickly. She walked alongside the bishop, but her gaze flickered to Caleb. “She was watching me arrange a display in my window, and we talked about what makes an appealing one. The idea for Caleb's window was hers.”

“Gut for her.” Bishop Mose's eyes twinkled. “Our Caleb needs someone to freshen up that shop of his.”

Maybe so, maybe not, but Caleb wasn't going to discourage Becky from taking an interest. “I'm glad to see Becky so excited about the shop.”

“Gut, gut.” Bishop Mose lifted his hand in good-bye. “I will stop by tomorrow to see how the work is going.” He went on out the lane.

“I must be on my way, too.” Caleb headed for the stable, only to find that Katie was beside him.

“I wasn't trying to interfere in your shop,” she said, her smooth brow furrowing. “I just wanted to encourage Becky.”

He stopped, his hand on the harness he was about to lift down. “I know. That doesn't upset me.”

Her lips curved in a slight smile, but her eyes still looked a bit worried. “I thought that something did. Upset you, I mean.”

“Nothing.” He wrenched his gaze away from her, staring at the harness. There was something that should be said, and maybe then things would be easier between them. “I wasn't upset . . . I was just thinking about what happened between us. I mean—”

“I know what you mean.” She rushed the words, as if to keep him from spelling it out. “It's all right.”

“I should apologize,” he said, although he had a suspicion he didn't really regret that kiss. “I shouldn't have—”

“It's all right,” she said again, her cheeks flooding with color that made her so pretty he wanted to kiss her again. “We should just pretend it didn't happen, ain't so?”

“Ja, we should.”

But he didn't think he'd be forgetting anytime soon.

 

 

In
Pleasant Valley, Wednesday was an early closing day for shops. No one quite seemed to know why, as far as Katie could tell, but everyone did it. So she flipped her sign to CLOSED, pulled down the shade, and tried to ignore the fact that Caleb was doing exactly the same thing.

They'd agreed to forget what had happened between them. She knew that was for the best. Unfortunately, she was finding it more difficult than she'd have believed possible.

Spending the afternoon with Molly making rhubarb and strawberry jam was just the distraction she needed. And since the shop was closed, she didn't have to worry about leaving Rhoda in charge.

“Is Rhoda about ready to go?” Caleb asked. He didn't seem to have had any trouble getting back to normal toward her, and for a fleeting moment she resented that.

“Ja, here I am.” Feet clattered on the stairs, and Rhoda rushed across the shop. “Denke, Caleb.”

Rhoda was spending the afternoon with Becky, so Caleb had said he'd drive her there when he went home. The plan was for Katie to pick her up after supper.

“Have a gut time.” Katie bit her lip to keep from adding Mamm's usual warnings to behave properly and not embarrass the family.

“I will.” Rhoda sparkled at the prospect of a break in routine. “And you, too. Say hello to Cousin Molly for me.”

“Ja.” Katie gave Rhoda a quick hug, and then watched as the two of them walked out the back. Silly, maybe, but she'd let them get on their way before she went out to harness the mare. It would mean one less conversation with Caleb.

She busied herself putting a bag of sugar in a basket along with jars and jar lids. Molly was providing the rhubarb and strawberries. The least she could do was supply some of the sugar they'd need.

In a few more minutes, she was on her way. The steady clop of the mare's hooves combined with the warm breeze and the scent of growing plants to ease her heart. It was foolish to be anxious when God had given her so many blessings. The hay looked near ready for a cutting in the fields, and dogwood blossoms brightened the woods. A dairy herd grazed, contented, in a pasture near the road.

By the time Katie reached Molly's, the stress of the past few days had slipped away, and she was glad to see it go.

Molly, her sleeves turned back, was busy at the sink washing the long pink stalks of rhubarb. Sarah Mast stood nearby, chopping the stalks.

“Ach, you are way ahead of me already.” Katie set her basket on the table. “Sarah, I'm ser glad you are here. So, no babies decided to arrive today?”

“Not yet,” Sarah said, the knife pausing in its chopping. “But tomorrow night is the full moon, so it wouldn't surprise me to see a spate of them in the next few days.”

“At least it's not snowing, like it was when our Jacob was born. I will never forget that.” Molly sent a fond glance toward the playpen where young Jacob was pushing himself up on chubby arms.

“Ach, look at that fine strong boy.” Katie knelt to smile at him. “He'll be crawling all over the place before you know it. Molly, he has dimples just like yours.”

Molly grinned, her own dimples showing. “His daadi says the girls will be chasing him, for sure.”

“They grow so fast,” Sarah said, and Katie thought she caught a twinge of sorrow in her tone. And that was definitely a wistful look in her face.

“You and Aaron might . . .” Molly began, but she let the words trail away. Sarah would marry Aaron, Molly's oldest brother, come November. It was common knowledge that Sarah's first marriage hadn't produced any children.

“Ja. Maybe.” Sarah moved over so that Katie could join the assembly line, putting the chopped rhubarb into a bowl and stirring in sugar.

“I try not to think about it too much,” Sarah continued. Her lips trembled for a moment, and she pressed them together. “I would like to have Aaron's boppli, but it will be as God wills.”

“I understand.” Katie tried to concentrate on the movement of the wooden spoon in the heavy earthenware bowl, but it was no use. Sarah's words spoke too much to her own heart. And she knew these two as well as she knew anyone in Pleasant Valley—well enough to feel sure she could say anything to them. “I think about that sometimes. I don't regret not marrying, but it sorrows me to think of never having a child.”

“You could still marry,” Sarah said. “Look at me. I surely thought marrying again was out of the question. Who would want to wed a midwife and put up with all the crazy hours? And one who was probably barren, besides? But Aaron changed my mind.” Her face softened, seeming to glow with an inner joy.