Katie's Way (21 page)

“I haven't heard anything from her,” Katie said. She'd thought Melanie had enjoyed herself, too. Maybe she'd been wrong.

“Young people are always busy,” Donna said. “My kids have such hectic lives I don't hear from them from one week to the next.”

“Your children don't live here?” Rachel asked.

“Scattered across the country,” Donna replied. “Well, it's only natural. Their professions take them away. My son is a heart surgeon in Dallas, and my daughter manages a big advertising agency in Chicago.”

“You must be proud of them,” Lisa said, with perhaps a little wistfulness in her tone. Lisa didn't have children, Katie remembered. And with her husband gone, she seemed very alone. Maybe that was why she threw herself into her business so much.

“Very proud,” Donna said. “Very.”

She seemed to mean that, but Katie couldn't help but think that, in her own way, Donna was lonely, too.

“I stopped by the hardware store this week,” Donna said abruptly. “It seems like that fiancé of Melanie's keeps her working pretty hard. We were just passing the time of day when he butted in and gave her something to do. I can't say I liked that.”

No, Donna wouldn't. Of course, from what Katie had seen, Melanie and her fiancé ran the hardware store by themselves.

“Maybe something came up that Melanie couldn't leave work this afternoon,” she said.

“Mike, most likely,” Donna muttered.

Katie turned that over in her mind. Surely the man . . . Mike, his name was . . . didn't object to Melanie's joining their group. Maybe he'd felt that Donna was wasting Melanie's time with her talking.

If so, he needed to understand a bit more about running a store in a small place like Pleasant Valley. Chatting with customers was never a waste of time. Even if they didn't buy anything today, they might well be back to buy tomorrow.

Melanie herself put an end to the speculation by rushing in, carrying her wall hanging materials in a shopping bag with the name of a department store emblazoned on it.

“Sorry I'm so late, everyone.” She was breathless, her face flushed with embarrassment. “We got busy in the store.”

Katie ignored a snort from Donna. “We understand. It's not a problem at all. Show me how you're coming with the wall hanging.” Melanie had decided on a Crazy Quilt pattern, saying maybe her mistakes wouldn't show so much then.

“I haven't had much time to work on it this week,” Melanie said, hurriedly getting out her supplies. “We've been so busy.”

“Your store must be doing better than anyone's then,” Lisa said. “I don't mind admitting trade's been pretty quiet for me this week.”

“Oh, well.” Melanie's flush deepened. “Everybody needs things from the hardware store, I guess.”

“Komm, I'll help you,” Katie said, intervening. “We'll figure out the matching, and then it will be easier to work on.”

Beginners sometimes thought they understood, only to find themselves at a loss when they tried to follow the instructions on their own. Perhaps Melanie just didn't want to admit that.

The afternoon seemed to pass too quickly, making Katie aware of how much she enjoyed these get-togethers. The women's soft voices, the whirr of the sewing machines, the flash of needles . . . this was her favorite part of the week.

If she and Eli had married, would she have carried on at the shop? Probably not. She'd have been busy having babies, running the home, spending her sewing hours on clothes for the children. Maybe, as they grew, there would have been time to be busy with the quilts again. That was the cycle of life for a woman.

For most women. She made the correction. Her life was not like most.

“Well, when you Amish get married, it's for good.” Melanie's words, spoken to Molly, were loud in a moment of silence. Melanie glanced around, flushing a little, probably because everyone had heard. “I mean, I guess you Amish don't believe in divorce.”

“When two people make vows before God, it is forever,” Rachel said. “That doesn't mean we don't have problems, just like other folks. But we try to work them out.”

“Most people go into marriage thinking it is forever,” Lisa added. “Amish or English. I'm sure Mark and I had our share of disagreements, but we never considered ending things.” A shadow crossed her face, and Katie knew she was missing her husband.

“But if you find out you've married the wrong person, maybe it's better to get out of it.” Melanie said the words almost to herself.

Katie and Lisa exchanged glances. How did one answer that? Melanie wasn't even married yet. If she was having doubts already . . .

“People don't have to be married to be happy.” Donna's tone was assertive. “But it's unusual to see an Amish woman Katie's age who isn't married.” She looked at Katie expectantly.

A flash of anger startled Katie. It wasn't any of Donna's business why she wasn't married.

“I'm sure Katie has her reasons.” Lisa hurried into speech to cover the awkward moment. “I don't think we should put her on the spot.”

Donna's cheeks grew mottled. “No offense,” she muttered. “I just wondered.”

“It's all right.” Katie took a firm hold on her temper. “I was engaged, but he married someone else.” She shrugged, trying to turn it off lightly. “It was better to know that before we took vows rather than after.”

“It certainly was.” Lisa's tone was emphatic. “Now, about these pieces, how did you say they should fit together, Katie?”

Katie bent over the table, her gaze fixed on the quilt patches, glad to hide her face for a moment. Goodness knows she should be able to talk about Eli naturally after all this time.

Realization hit her, so sharp and clear it was like being hit by lightning. She'd told Caleb he was hiding his pain by avoiding other people, but wasn't she hiding, too? Wasn't she immersing herself in the shop, in the people who came into it, to hide her own pain?

She didn't want to think that, but she had to face it. She'd told herself that coming here would be a new start for her, but the truth was that it was just a new way to cover the same old pain.

 

 

“Are
you certain-sure you'll be all right minding the shop this afternoon?” Caleb had a feeling he was the one who wasn't all right, but he wasn't going to let Becky see his apprehension.

“It will be fine, Onkel Caleb.” Becky's face shone with excitement, as if he had given her a gift by letting her watch the shop while he went to a meeting that he didn't want to attend anyway.

“That's all right, then. If you are not sure of anything, just tell the person he'll have to wait until I return, ja?”

“I will, for sure.” Becky gave him a gentle push. “Go now. Katie is waiting for you.”

Sure enough, Katie was standing at her shop door, obviously confident in Rhoda's ability to watch the shop while she was out. Just as obviously, it would be rude to set off down the street to Mrs. Macklin's shop without her, since they were going to the same place. It wasn't Katie's fault that he found himself tongue-tied around her these days.

“All ready?” He tried to manage a smile as he approached Katie, but it probably looked more like a grimace.

“We'll be just in time for the meeting,” Katie said, opening the door.

He followed her out to the sidewalk. Mrs. Macklin had asked all of the Main Street merchants to attend a meeting about the sale days plans. His immediate response had been that meetings didn't interest him. He was willing enough to put some items on sale, but that was all.

However, Bishop Mose had gotten involved, and if the bishop asked you to go somewhere, you went. Besides, Caleb's instant refusal would only serve to prove that what Katie had said about him was true.

So he'd go. But that didn't mean he'd do anything. Or say anything. He'd be there. Let that be enough.

He caught the movement of Katie's head as she turned to look at him. “I'm sure the girls will be fine.” Her tone was reassuring. “If Becky has any problems, Rhoda will be right there.”

“Ja, I know. I'm not worried.”

Katie's eyebrows lifted. “Then your black look must be because you feel obligated to walk with me. You don't have to, you know. If it makes you uncomfortable—”

“Ach, Katie, stop putting words in my mouth. The fact is that I'm not much of a one for meetings.”

“I know,” she said quietly.

And there, he'd as much as told her that what she thought about him was true. “It's not—not because I feel uncomfortable around people. This meeting, Mrs. Macklin's plans—we haven't done anything like this before.”

“Bishop Mose says we haven't needed to before.”

“I know. And that's why I am going.” Just going, that was all. Let other people volunteer to be on committees and such.

“I'm glad.” Her words sounded a little stiff.

And now that he took a close look, it seemed Katie wasn't her usual confident self. Was she still worrying about that upset with Rhoda?

The only way to find out was to ask. “Is something else wrong then?”

“No.” The answer came so quickly that he knew it wasn't true.

They had already reached Mrs. Macklin's shop, and there was no time for him to say anything else, even if he could have thought of something.

M
rs.
Macklin's gift shop, like most of the shops along Main Street, had a back room, and that was where the meeting was being held. Caleb followed Katie down the rows of shelves filled with candles, wreaths, baskets, and such-like. Lots of stuff there, but he had to admit that Mrs. Macklin had it arranged in a way that made you want to stop and look, even if you weren't in the market for any of the things the woman sold.

The back room was fairly large, as such rooms went, and Mrs. Macklin had arranged folding chairs in a circle so that there was no back row to hide in. A table at the door was laden with a heavy coffee urn and platters of baked goods that he recognized as having come from Paula Schatz's bakery. Paula herself, round and rosy-faced, presided over the food, urging people to have just one more sticky bun or slab of apple walnut cake.

“That's enough,” he began, but Paula plopped a cinnamon bun on his paper plate.

“Ach, you have room for a little more, for sure.” Paula, like most Amish and Mennonite women, it seemed, loved to see people enjoying their food.

“If I eat all this, I won't be gut for anything but taking a nap,” he told her.

“Get on with you, Caleb Brand.” She waved a dish towel at him, pleased with that response for some reason. “Everyone knows you work as hard as any two men.”

If they did, it was news to him, but he accepted the plate and coffee. Katie had already taken a seat next to Alma Gluck, who helped her husband run the candy shop. Bishop Mose sat a few chairs away, so Caleb took the seat next to him. He spotted a few people who, so far as he knew, didn't own shops in town, and that puzzled him.

“There are folks other than storeowners here,” he said quietly.

Bishop Mose nodded. “Some of the volunteer organizations want to be involved, too. Just watch,” he murmured. “All the Amish women will sit together, and all the Amish men.”

“That's natural enough, isn't it?” Caleb wasn't sure what the bishop was driving at.

“Natural,” Bishop Mose said. “But I would not like our Englisch neighbors to think we are standoffish.”

Caleb didn't bother to say it, but surely the Englisch merchants thought that already. And weren't the Amish to live in but not of the world? Maybe the bishop was trying to find the line between doing so and offending their non-Amish neighbors. Caleb was sure he didn't know where that line was.

Which was why he'd let himself be guided by the bishop in attending this meeting. It wasn't a matter of not thinking for himself. It was a question of trusting someone as mature in the faith as Bishop Mose whenever one was in doubt.

Mrs. Macklin started the meeting once everyone was satisfied with plenty to eat and drink. He had to admit that the woman had a nice way about her. She was enthusiastic but not threatening or overly bossy, and she kept hold of the reins of the meeting, not letting it stray from its purpose . . . to plan what each of them would do for the Summer Sale Days.

When Mrs. Macklin used that expression, the first ruffle arose in the meeting from Mike Sullivan, who managed the only hardware store in town.

“If we're going to do this, it seems to me that we could come up with a better name than Summer Sale Days,” Sullivan said, “especially if we want to pull people into town.”

Mrs. Macklin didn't skip a beat. “What would you suggest, Mike?”

“Well, how about calling it Amish Days? Seems like that's good publicity.”

Several people separated Caleb from Katie, but he had the impression she grew tense. Certainly the bishop had.

“That would be something to consider,” Mrs. Macklin said smoothly. “But I think our Amish colleagues would not like to have their faith used as advertising.”

Sullivan looked as if he didn't like being disagreed with. “Why not? Lancaster County is filled with businesses that are called Amish this and Amish that. And they've sure got plenty of tourists coming there.”

“I think you will find that places that advertise that way are not Amish-owned,” Bishop Mose said. He didn't raise his voice, but it seemed to dominate the room.

Sullivan scowled. “I'm not Amish, but I don't mind using the word if it brings in business.”