Letters to Katie (21 page)
But what would Katherine think? And his family? He’d made such a big deal about being
successful as a horse farmer. Even though he wasn’t seriously considering signing
the Wagners’ offer, he also couldn’t bring himself to say no. But if he partnered
with them, the business wouldn’t be his.
And yet if he agreed to their terms, he wouldn’t have to worry about the future. He
wouldn’t have to scour Middlefield
looking for a job, like he and his father and Caleb were doing. Last week he’d gotten
his last check and worked his last day for Bender. He wouldn’t live hand-to-mouth,
which was the life he was facing right now. He could provide a comfortable life for
him and Katherine—if she still cared about him.
“You need some time,” Lois said, her cheerful demeanor returning. “I’ll leave this
with you.” She patted the sketch. “You take a look at it. Then let us know in a couple
of days what you decide.” She stood, grabbing her handbag from the floor.
“Just don’t take too long.” Wagner also rose, standing close to his wife. “We’ve driven
around Middlefield. There are plenty of properties for sale around here, properties
that would be just right for this type of business.” He grinned at Johnny. “But since
you came to us, we feel it’s only fair to offer you the opportunity first.”
Johnny nodded. “I’ll give it some thought.” Even saying the words out loud made him
ill. But maybe Lois was right. Maybe he’d have to give up one dream to pursue a better
one.
He just wished he didn’t feel so apprehensive about it.
Cora sat outside the Bylers’ home, in the swing where she’d fallen asleep the day
she first arrived. During the day while Sawyer was at work, she’d been spending more
time outside. The longer she stayed here, the more her body seemed to crave the fresh
air. The warmth of the sun. She seemed to get cold more easily lately. She would wrap
her scarf closer to her neck,
put on her cashmere sweater, and swing, trying to keep her mind more focused on the
present than the past. Too many bitter memories there.
Yet there were times when she didn’t think about anything. Her mind, her heart, became
quiet. Almost still.
She chalked it up to boredom. Or at least tried to.
The cell phone in her pocket rang. She retrieved it and looked at the screen. Her
attorney. She pressed the green answer button. “Kenneth.”
“Hello, Cora. Just checking in.”
“Nothing to report. I’ve only been here a few days.”
“Are you at least trying to enjoy yourself? I hear Amish country is lovely this time
of year.”
Cora scowled. “What do you know of Amish country? You were born and raised in Manhattan.”
“I did a bit of reading about the area. May have to visit there myself. If I ever
get a vacation.”
“Is that a dig, Kenneth?”
“Of course not.” He chuckled. “A joke, Cora. You had a sense of humor once upon a
time.”
Years ago
. “What do you need, Kenneth?”
“I was wondering if you had a return date in mind. I’ve done all I can with your assets,
but there are still a few documents that need your signature. And . . .” He hesitated.
“I want you to be certain you want to do this.”
“I’m certain. As for when I’m coming home, I’m still not sure.” She looked up to see
Anna coming out of the house, carrying two glasses. “I have to go, Kenneth. I’ll be
in touch.”
“Cora—”
She clicked off the phone. Anna smiled as she approached.
“Mind if I join you?” Anna asked. “I brought us some lemonade.”
Cora gestured to the empty seat beside her. She accepted the glass Anna offered but
didn’t say anything.
The two women sat in silence for a few moments, surrounded by the soft sounds of chirping
birds. Cora looked down at her lemonade. No ice. Pieces of pulp floating around. Fresh
squeezed, no doubt by Anna herself. She turned to the woman who called herself Sawyer’s
mother. “How do you stand it?”
Anna frowned, her blue eyes squinting in the bright sunlight. “What do you mean?”
“This.” She held up the glass. “Squeezing your own juice. Milking your own cows. Dusting
your own tables.” At Anna’s incredulous look, she added, “How do you manage to live
like a drudge?”
To Cora’s surprise, Anna laughed. “I never thought I was a drudge. I’m just living
my life. Like you live yours.”
“But your life is so . . . difficult.” Cora looked at her manicured nails, comparing
them to Anna’s stubby ones. “And, dare I say, dull? Housework day in and day out,
baking, sewing clothes.” She shook her head. “Don’t you think you’re destined for
more?”
“Like the business world?”
“Perhaps. Or at least a job outside the house. Why do you choose to be tethered like
the horse that pulls your buggy?”
Anna stared out at the green lawn in front of them. “I used
to own a business. Me and
mei mamm
. It’s what brought us to Middlefield.”
Cora’s mouth dropped. “You did?”
“
Ya
. A gift shop. I met Lukas when he came into the store before we opened. He helped
us fix up the building, which is near the flea market. We sold all kinds of Amish
goods, including small toys and crafts Lukas and his
bruders
made in their shop.”
Stunned, Cora angled toward her. “What happened to the business?”
“A short while after Lukas and I married, I sold it.
Mei
mamm
and her
schwoger
moved back to Maryland, where I’m originally from.”
“Do you miss it?”
“Maryland?
Ya
, sometimes.”
Cora shook her head. “Owning a business. Having something you can call your own, that
you can be successful at.”
Anna waved a hand at her surroundings. “This is mine. Well, not completely. It’s a
gift from God.” She smiled. “This is
mei
job, to take care of
mei familye
. And I don’t consider it drudgery. It’s a privilege.” She took a drink of her lemonade
and stood. “Speaking of work, I have bread in the oven I need to check on.”
Cora watched Anna walk back to the house. She had answered Cora’s questions honestly
and with kindness. For a fleeting moment, she thought about Kerry. Her daughter would
approve of Anna Byler.
They might even have been friends.
Later that afternoon Katherine still hadn’t left the couch. Bekah was sitting with
her, reading a book. Katherine’s headache hadn’t lessened. If anything, it was getting
worse. But she wasn’t about to admit it. Instead she closed her eyes and pretended
she was asleep.
A knock sounded at the door. Katherine’s eyes flew open.
Bekah had already jumped out of her seat. “I’ll get it.”
Katherine slowly sat up, the throbbing in her head intensifying. She’d tried aspirin.
Mamm’s
tea. Neither had worked, and she didn’t know what to do. Maybe she’d have to go to
the dreaded doctor after all.
Bekah’s voice came from the doorway. “Oh. Hi, Johnny.”
Katherine jerked her head toward the doorway, which didn’t help her neck or head pain.
Johnny? What was he doing here?
Bekah turned and mouthed those exact words to Katherine. Katherine shrugged, and Bekah
stepped aside to let him in.
Johnny came in looking spit-shined and polished, not dirty and dusty from working
outside, as he had the other day. He had obviously taken special care with his appearance.
Despite the raging headache, Katherine couldn’t help noticing how handsome he was.
She pushed the unwelcome thought aside. Whatever reason Johnny had for coming here,
or why he’d spiffed up in the middle of the day, it had nothing to do with her.
Then his gaze met hers. His chocolate-brown eyes grew soft. “How are you feeling?”
She frowned. “How did you know I was sick?”
“I stopped by Mary Yoder’s, and they said you’d called off work.”
Despite her resolve to give up on Johnny Mullet forever, Katherine felt her heart
flip. What had he been doing at her workplace? Then she saw the bag in his hands.
Her quilted bag, the one she’d brought to his house when she’d fixed supper for him
and his friends.
He was here to return her bag, that was all. Not because he cared about her, not because
he wanted to see her. Not any of the things she had wished for—
“I wondered if I could talk to you,” he said, shifting from one foot to the other
He glanced at the floor, then at Bekah. When Bekah didn’t move, he added, “Privately.”
He looked at Katherine. “If you’re up to it, that is.”
Bekah turned to Katherine, giving her a questioning lift of her brow. Katherine nodded.
“It’s okay.”
“I’ll
geh
help
Mamm
in the kitchen.”
Katherine hoped her sister had enough sense not to tell their mother that Johnny was
here. If she did, her mother would probably come storming out and demand that Johnny
leave. Katherine didn’t want that. She needed to know what he wanted to talk about.
Johnny stood there for a moment, as if unsure what to do. Then he walked over to her,
holding out her bag. “You forgot this the other
daag
.”
“Danki.”
She took the bag from him and set it on the floor beside her feet. When he didn’t
move, she gestured to the chair across from her. “You can sit down, if you want.”
“Oh.
Ya
.” He gave her a half smile and took the chair. He swiped his hands over his knees
as she waited for him to speak. But now he didn’t seem in any hurry to talk.
The silence echoed in her aching head. Finally she couldn’t stand it anymore. “You
said you wanted to talk to me?”
“I—um . . .” He looked away again, color reddening his cheeks. She’d never seen him
act shy around her like this before. Even when she was at his house, after a few short,
awkward moments they had settled into being comfortable with each other. Now he looked
ready to leap out of his skin.
A sharp pain rattled her head. She touched her fingertips to her temples and closed
her eyes.
“Katherine?”
She opened her eyes at his tender tone. He was leaning forward, almost to the point
where he was slipping off the chair.
“Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” But the pain intensified.
“You don’t look fine.” He searched her face, concern furrowing his brow. Then he got
up and sat next to her. “How long have you felt like this?”
“Long enough.” Her head and neck hurt so fiercely that she didn’t have the energy
to figure out why he was sitting so close to her. Worse, she couldn’t even enjoy it.
Her stomach twisted like a baked pretzel.
“You’re pale,” he said.
“I’ll be all right.” She looked at him. Under normal circumstances she’d be ecstatic
that he was here, showing her such concern. But her headache, combined with her determination
to move on with her life, pushed her over the edge. “What did you want to talk about?”
“Maybe I should wait until you feel better.”
“Maybe you should let me decide that.” The words came out sharp as a knife, but she
couldn’t help it. She’d spent her whole life not being in control, especially where
Johnny was concerned. She’d had enough. “Is there something else you want from me?
Clean your
haus
or mend your clothes or cook your supper?” Sarcasm dripped from her words, but she
didn’t care. “Then you can kick me out when I’m done.”
