Seeds of Deception: A Kate Burkholder Short Story (2 page)

The second boy said something beneath his breath and the two broke into laughter.

“Don’t pay any attention to my friend Gavin.” Billy smiled appreciatively at Mattie, his eyes bold as they skimmed over her body. “So what are you girls doing here, anyway?”

“Um, picking apples?” Mattie replied, adding a generous dollop of smart-ass to her voice.

“I reckon you’re not going to let me off the hook until I apologize, are you?” he asked, trying to charm her.

Turning away, Mattie resumed picking apples. “I don’t really care.”

Billy addressed his friend without taking his eyes off of Mattie. “Hey, Gav, why don’t you head down to the other end and get started on that branch? I’ll meet you there in a few minutes.”

“You got it, Bill.”

Gavin climbed onto the ATV and started the engine. Giving the two girls a mock salute, he put the vehicle in gear and roared away.

When he was out of sight, Billy crossed to the girls, his focus riveted on Mattie. Katie didn’t mind. She didn’t like being the center of attention. And she didn’t much care for the likes of Billy Marquart. He might be attractive, but he was also coarse and foul-mouthed, and she was relieved she wasn’t the object of his affection.

“So, are you going to forgive me or what?” he cooed.

Mattie didn’t even look at him. “Why would I do such a thing?”

Billy rolled his eyes in a self-deprecating way that might’ve been charming if it hadn’t been so rehearsed. “Because I’m irresistible?”

Now it was Mattie’s turn to laugh. “If I had a mirror, I’d give it to you so you could admire yourself all day.”

Shaking his head, he shifted his attention to Katie. “What about you?”

Katie liked to believe she was worldly enough to converse with an English boy, even an obnoxious one like Billy. But there was something in the way he looked at her that made her uneasy. Like he was privy to some secret joke that had been made at her expense—and only he understood the punch line.

Instead of coming back with some sharp, Mattie-esque retort, Katie found herself dry-mouthed and tongue-tied. “Mattie didn’t spit in your hot chocolate,” she managed, “and she doesn’t want to trade spit with you.”

“Yeah?” Billy assumed an amused countenance. “That’s not what I heard.”

“You should apologize to her,” Katie said, “and mean it when you do.”

“I did—”

“No, you didn’t,” Mattie cut in.

Wishing he’d go away, Katie yanked a scarred apple off the nearest branch and tossed it into her basket.

Smiling, Billy moved closer to Mattie and got down on one knee, as if he were about to ask her to marry him. “Will you forgive me?” he asked.

Mattie threw her head back and laughed a little cruelly, then picked another piece of fruit. “You’re an idiot.”

“I admit it. I’m an idiot. A big, stupid one. Now will you forgive me? Please?”

Mattie slanted him a look over her shoulder, her eyes alight with interest. “What are you going to do for me?”

Looking around, he shrugged. “Hey, I got cigs if you want one.” He glanced toward Katie. “You, too. I got a whole pack.”

Mattie looked intrigued by the idea.
Too
intrigued. Katie knew a bad idea when she heard one. If her brother didn’t smell smoke on her, Mamm would. Her punishment would surely be something unpleasant, like mucking stalls for the next year or two.

“Jacob is working just a few rows over,” Katie said. “And I have to get these baskets filled.”

Mattie clucked. “Come on, Katie. Don’t be such a stick in the mud. Just one?”

Shaking her head, Katie plucked another apple from the tree. “Can’t.”

Her friend shifted her attention to Billy and turned on the charm with a smile. Katie almost felt sorry for Billy; he didn’t know it, but he wasn’t nearly as smart as Mattie. He didn’t stand a chance.

“Well, we can’t smoke out here in the open,” Mattie pronounced.

He motioned toward Zimmerman’s old barn, a run-down structure tucked into the corner of the field. “No one ever goes in the barn. The old man keeps the tractor and hay inside. I’m in there all the time.” He passed her a cigarette. “Here you go.”

“Going to cost you more than one.” Turning up her nose at the proffered cigarette, Mattie held out her hand. “The whole pack.”

Katie smiled inwardly at her friend’s pluck and experienced a moment of envy that she didn’t have the same confidence.

Billy shook out a couple for himself and set the pack in her hand. “You drive a hard bargain for an Amish girl.”

“It’s the least you can do after telling that big fat lie and getting me fired.”

“I take it all back, babes.” He stared at Mattie as if she were some exotic delicacy and he was famished. “Let’s go.”

Something in his eyes gave Katie pause. The flash of a thought or emotion she couldn’t identify, but she knew it wasn’t good. Fingers of worry kneaded the back of her neck as Mattie fell into step beside him.

“Mattie, I don’t think you should go,” she called out.

“Keep picking,” Mattie said breezily, completely unconcerned. “Toss a few apples in my basket, too, will you? I don’t want to fall behind.”

“
Er is en leshtah-diah maydel
,” Katie said emphatically. He’s a beast that blasphemes girls.

Mattie gave her an I-know-what-I’m-doing smile. “This won’t take long.”

Standing next to their wagons, Katie shook her head and watched her friend and Billy go through the gate, traverse the dirt track, and disappear inside the barn.

For an instant, she regretted not going with them. Not because she wanted to be in that dusty old barn with the likes of Billy Marquart, but because she didn’t want Mattie in there alone with him.

The logical side of Katie’s brain told her that Mattie knew how to handle herself, but the knowledge was little comfort; Katie also knew her friend didn’t always use the good judgment God had given her. Billy had a reputation for kissing and telling. If Mattie let him take things too far, everyone in town—including the bishop—would know about it.

Sighing, Katie watched them disappear into the shadows. “I hope you know what you’re doing,” she muttered.

She picked up both wagon handles and pulled them a few feet down the row. Keeping an eye on the barn, she went back to working, but her mind wasn’t on picking apples. There was a new presence dogging her now—worry—and Katie didn’t like it.

“Where’d you get that second wagon?”

Katie startled at the sound of her brother’s voice. She’d been so embroiled in her thoughts—so intent on watching the barn—that she hadn’t heard him approach. She turned to see him ducking beneath the low-slung branches of two trees.

“It’s Mattie’s,” she replied.

“Mattie Erb? No wonder you haven’t gotten much done.” He looked at her basket and shook his head. “Where is she?”

Katie blinked, her mind whirling. She was such a terrible liar … “Not that it’s any business of yours, but she went into the barn for a pee break.”

“Oh.” He glanced away, trying not to look embarrassed. Served him right for being so nosy, she thought. “I know how you two are when you’re together with all the talking,” he said. “I’ve already filled two baskets and you’ve barely filled one. Datt’ll be here shortly to pick us up.”

Katie tried to keep her eyes off the barn, but it wasn’t easy. She disliked lying to her brother—disliked lying to
anyone
—even if it was by omission. But there was no way Jacob would stand for Mattie going into the barn with a boy, especially Billy Marquart. If he found out, he’d surely tell their parents. Katie knew all too well that if that happened, she’d find herself in trouble, too, even though this time she hadn’t done anything wrong.

“The only one I hear talking too much is you,” Katie muttered.

Sending her a scowl, Jacob picked up one of her empty baskets and retreated toward the other end of the orchard.

For ten minutes Katie picked apples as quickly as she could. When the lower halves of the trees were picked clean, she moved the wagons farther down the row. She didn’t like the growing distance between her and the barn. Mattie had been gone for nearly fifteen minutes. How long did it take to smoke a cigarette? Not
that
long, a little voice whispered. What else were they doing? Talking? Something else?

The tiny seeds of worry from earlier had grown into something dark and unwieldy. Not only was Billy a troublemaker, but Katie had heard stories about his temper, too. Rumor had it, he’d gotten into a fight at Miller’s Pond last summer—and sent another boy from Coshocton County to the hospital.

The whisper of footsteps against the grass spun her around. Katie gasped. It was Billy walking fast, passing within a few feet of her. He didn’t look happy, didn’t make eye contact with her, and Katie was pretty sure he had a scratch on the side of his face.

“Where’s Mattie?” she called out.

“That little bitch is all yours.” He didn’t spare her a glance as he followed the tracks of the ATV. “I’m outta here.”

Katie watched him stalk away, alarm stealing through her. How did he get that scratch on his face? Where was Mattie? Had he done something to her?

She launched herself into a dead run toward the barn. “Mattie!”

She was midway there when her friend emerged. A quick once over told her Mattie was unharmed. But Katie didn’t miss the tuft of hair that had been pulled from her
kapp
. That the
kapp
itself was askew. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips devoid of the lipstick she’d put on minutes before going into the barn.

“What happened?” Katie asked.

“Nothing happened, silly.”

“But I saw Billy,” she blurted. “He had a scratch on his face. He looked … upset.”

Mattie huffed. “Billy Marquart is dumber than a chicken.” Brushing hay from her dress, she headed for their wagons. “Looks like you’ve been busy.”

Katie wasn’t ready to let it go. “How did he get that scratch?”

“Probably ran into a tree.”

“Mattie, you were in the barn for fifteen minutes. What were you doing? Why was he so angry? Did you argue?”

“
Er harricht gut, awwer er foligt schlecht.
” He hears well, but obeys poorly. “So I put him in his place.

Katie paused. “What did he do?”

“If you must know…” Mattie swung around to face her. “He tried to kiss me.”

All Katie could do was put her hand over her mouth.

Mattie laughed. “Don’t worry,” she added. “I sent him packing.”

“You’re sure you’re okay?”

A slow smile spread across Mattie’s face, telling Katie she was not only unfazed by what had happened, but she’d enjoyed it. “Has anyone ever told you that you worry too much?” Mattie asked.

“Yeah,” Katie muttered. “Me.”

Elbowing her good-naturedly, Mattie motioned toward the wagons. “Come on. Let’s go work down at the other end with Jacob.”

“We’ve got plenty of apples to pick here,” Katie returned.

“I want to say hello to him.” Scooping up the wagon’s handle, Mattie started toward the opposite end of the orchard. “Are you coming?”

Grumbling beneath her breath, Katie followed, but she was only mildly annoyed. Mostly, she was glad Mattie was all right—and Billy Marquart was gone.

Neither girl spoke as they made their way down the row of apple trees, the wagons bumping over tufts of grass and uneven ground.

They’d only gone a few yards when Katie caught a whiff of something burning. “I think you smell like smoke,” she whispered.

Frowning, Mattie looked down at her clothes. “Do you have any perfume or hand lotion?”

“Did you really just ask me that?”

They’d nearly reached the end of the row when Katie spotted Jacob through the trees. A look at his baskets told her he’d already filled three—to her one.

“We’d best get picking,” she said.

The girls set to work, barely speaking now to make up for their lack of productivity. Katie was still pondering the scratch on Billy Marquart’s face and Mattie’s nonchalant attitude about what had happened in the barn. She loved Mattie, but there were times when she didn’t like her ways, especially when it came to boys. Mattie had known from the get-go that Billy was trouble, and yet she’d willingly gone into the barn with him. Worse, Katie didn’t think she was telling the whole story about what had happened. But what could she do?

She’d just twisted an apple from a branch when she caught another whiff of smoke. Not cigarette smoke, but something stronger carried on the breeze.

“Do you smell that?” Katie asked.

Pausing, Mattie sniffed. “I bet someone is burning trash or brush.”

The wind was from the south. Katie glanced that way. Uneasiness quivered through her when she spotted dark tendrils of smoke rising into the air. It seemed to be coming from the general direction of the barn.

“I think the barn’s on fire!” Katie exclaimed.

“
What
?” Dropping the fruit she’d been holding, Mattie spun and looked. “Oh no!”

As if by mutual agreement, the girls ran toward the barn. They’d gone only a few yards when Katie saw orange flames leaping twenty feet into the air. Through the open barn door, she saw a good-size fire blazing inside the structure.

“What’s going on?”

Both girls started at the sound of Jacob’s voice. Katie glanced at him, but his eyes were fastened to the flames licking at the sky thirty yards away.

“I’m going to get Mr. Zimmerman.” Jacob tossed a hard look at Katie. “Stay here. Do not get any closer to the fire. Do you understand?”

She nodded.

At that, he took off at a sprint toward the Zimmerman house.

Katie and Mattie watched the flames expand, the smoke pouring like a twisting, writhing tornado into the clear blue sky. Though they stood a safe distance away, Katie could feel the heat against her face, the acrid stink of the smoke climbing into her nostrils.

It seemed like an eternity before the wail of sirens sounded in the distance. Relief swept through her when the first fire truck rumbled through the gate, emergency lights flashing. Two firefighters clad in protective gear dragged a hose from the truck and began to spray water onto the flames.