The Photograph (13 page)

Truth be known, she cherished this day. After the trauma of Lily's departure, such unexpected companionship was the salve her soul craved.

Then, thinking of Naomi and how frantic she had been to find Sammy—
like we are to find Lily
—Eva reconsidered Lily's unreasonable behavior, running off to no one knew where. And while Eva wanted to hold the day's memories close to heart, she began to question the wisdom of entertaining romantic notions about someone from so far away, no matter how kindhearted Jed Stutzman seemed.

W
EDNESDAY
MORNING
BEFORE
BREAKFAST
, but after a stiff cup of black coffee, Jed walked with Jonas Byler out to the carriage shop on Jonas's property. “Your shop looks bigger than Uncle Ervin's,” Jed remarked, eager to finally get a good look around.

“I'd say it's pretty typical for a workshop round here—two hundred feet by one hundred—but it's divided into four sections.”

“Are ya lookin' forward to retiring soon?” Jed slowed his pace to be respectful to the older man.

“Oh
jah
, I s'pose, but I'll always be workin' somewhere till the Lord calls me home
 . . .
helping one farmer or another, no doubt. Just not the day-to-day business of the carriage shop.” Jonas's chest rose and fell. “It's a shame none of my boys wanted to learn the trade. 'Tis mighty important to pass it down through the generations.”

Jed agreed.

“That's why I'm seriously thinkin' of selling.”

His sons must already be established
in their chosen work,
Jed assumed.

At Jonas's shop, Jed stepped inside and felt right at home, thanks to a layout similar to Uncle Ervin's. “Real nice and tidy,” he said.

“It's fairly well organized today,” Jonas said, wiping his beard. “Shoulda seen it last week.” He let out a chuckle. “Then again, it's a
gut
thing ya didn't!”

“There are just some days,
jah
?”

Jonas led the way to the impressively orderly back area, where workbenches were set up for building a buggy's wooden base. All across the wall hung hand tools like those Jed was accustomed to using.

Another large room was set aside for storing materials for manufacturing the buggy, including the bench seat in surreys and parts for the hacks or buckboards. The latter were similar to an
Englischer
's pickup truck, the area behind the seat providing a flat bed for hauling.

“Now, here's something. Ever see a dashboard like this?” Jonas pointed to a panel of inlaid wood with holes drilled for switches for inside and outside buggy lights, as well as turn signals.

Jed ran his hand over its smoothness. “Real fancy compared to some.”

Jonas shook his head, amused. “Makes me wonder what the owner's thinkin'—some of the nonsense we put in.
Ach
, the carpet colors, several years back, were downright loud. Just depends on what's allowed in a particular church district
 . . .
how strict the bishop is.” Jonas motioned toward the next area. “Say, do your Swartzentruber neighbors still use kerosene lanterns for their buggy lights?”

“They do.” Jed was surprised Jonas knew this.

The older man went on to say that the brakes, wheels, and spokes were all made less than ten miles from his shop. “I 'spect it's similar out there, ain't?”

“Probably closer to fifteen miles.”

“That far?”

Nodding, Jed found the shoptalk stimulating and was glad Uncle Ervin had suggested the visit with the great buggy maker.
And matchmaker, too.

Blackbirds pecked at one another in the field near the roadside as Eva and Frona set out for market Thursday morning. The skies were overcast and rain was predicted for later that afternoon.

“Hope we get home before a downpour,” Frona said, her attention on the road.

“I guess I don't care one way or the other,” Eva said.

“Well, ain't you somethin'?”

“Just glad for any chance of moisture. My garden could really use it.”

“
Your
garden?” Frona gave her a look.

Eva wasn't going to remind her that
she
had done the tilling and planting during her days in between working at The Sweet Tooth.
How could Frona
forget?
Of course, Frona had single-handedly done all the weeding here lately, so doubtless that's what she meant.

Striving to think pleasant thoughts, Eva peered out at the silvery windmill just ahead as the carriage rumbled along.

“
Just because a fella promises something, doesn't mean it'
ll happen,”
she remembered Mamma saying, and she wondered if Jed would show up today.

“You sure are deep in thought,” Frona said, interrupting her daydream. “Thinking 'bout your young man, maybe?”

Eva sighed. “He's not mine,
Schweschder
.”

“Oh, well, it's just a matter of time.” Frona didn't wait for a
response. “I saw how he looked at you at the auction—'tis a
gut
thing, too, what with Menno's plans. There's really only room for one of us when they move in, remember.”

Eva squelched a smile. Not only did Frona have Eva nearly hitched up with Jed, but poor Frona was still fretting about Menno's move.

The
good Lord will see to the future. And that's
that,
she thought.

The warmth of the morning sun and the strong scent of mown grass heightened Jed's anticipation for the day. He'd slept restlessly, caught up in the hope of seeing Eva Esch again. Truthfully, he hadn't felt such anticipation since Lydiann.

He caught a ride with Mose Byler, who was on his way to the east side of Quarryville to make a delivery for his father—ideal for Jed to get to market around opening time.

“You'll return on foot, then?” Mose asked, sitting tall in the driver's seat.

Jed nodded. “Mighty grateful for the lift.”

“Be sure an' take the umbrella,” offered Mose, pointing to the back of the buggy. “S'posed to pour cats and dogs later.”

Jed went around and opened the back. “
Denki!
”

“
Gem gschehne!
” Mose lifted the reins and clicked his tongue before heading out of the parking lot.

Inside the market, the place was already busy with folding tables being moved about and set up amidst vendors greeting each other. Jed didn't want to be in the way if he showed up too soon to Eva's table, so he wandered about, heading up the first long aisle. A large glass display case featuring homemade fudge caught his attention, and perusing the options, he considered a purchase. He thought of buying something for Eva but didn't want her to feel awkward.

Even so, he continued searching the fudge counter for a gift, recalling Lydiann's cravings for chocolate.

“
Ach
, you spoil me, Jed.”
Lydiann had smiled sweetly that day.
“But, of course, if
you really want to buy that chunk of chocolate, I
won't refuse.”

He'd whipped out his wallet before she could change her mind.
“It's yours, then.”

And she'd laughed so merrily the sound lingered in his mind for the rest of the week, till he saw her again that Saturday evening.

What if Eva doesn'
t care much for chocolate?
he thought, although he had a hard time imagining it. He recalled what she'd said about her confectionary shop. Was it possible to create sweets and not enjoy them?

“What's your fancy?” asked the large woman behind the counter. Her shoulders slouched as she leaned heavily on the display case.

Jed pointed to the smallest package, covered in a pretty red wrapping. He didn't want to seem stingy, yet a token might actually be better than something too big for a first gift.

“It's buy one, get the second one half off,” the smiling clerk told him. “How can ya pass it up?”

He took his time, looking at several other options.

“If ya pick something bigger, well, same deal for that, too,” she said.

In the end he stuck with his original order, glad to have the treat for Eva in the little sack the clerk handed to him.

“I think changing the arrangement sometimes
is
wise,” Eva was telling Mary Riehl, another market vendor.

Mary had taken it upon herself to stride across the aisle and rearrange Frona's and Eva's wares without their say-so. The
middle-aged woman had a mind of her own, but prior to this she'd never demonstrated it in such a radical manner. “Just thought I'd offer a bit of help, is all.” Mary gave a flamboyant wave and headed back to her own table.

Frona had cause to frown for sure. And later, when Mary was out of earshot, she told Eva she felt like changing it all back to the way it was. “What do ya say to that?”

“Just let it be. Sometimes it's
gut
to vary things.”

Frona stared at their goodies, including her jams and preserves. “Well, if it's already workin' one way, why bother?”

“Honestly, customers don't care 'bout the arrangement, do they?”

“If they're repeat customers, maybe not. But I still like things the way we had them.”

Eva could sense there was no compromising with Frona today. “If you put it all back, you can be the one to explain to Mary
 . . .
if she comes marchin' back over here.”

“
Puh!
” Frona shook her head. “The woman's got some nerve!”

The whole thing seemed petty to Eva.
Why
's Frona so tetchy?

———

A half hour or more later, while she was making change and answering questions, Eva noticed Jed standing back near the periphery of a dozen or more customers.
He's here,
she thought, trying not to smile too broadly. But he'd seen her spot him.
Oh, goodness!
And to think there was no way to greet him the way she wanted to, with so many folks there for her candies and Frona's jars of jam and whatnot.

Will he wait around?

Eva disliked feeling so unnerved and torn.

To her great surprise, Jed came around to the side and over to her. “Hullo, Eva. Looks like you're mighty busy.”

“It's been this way ever since we opened.”