Katie's Way (29 page)

It was no use trying to protect a woman like Katie from something unpleasant. She'd always rather know the truth. Still, he hesitated.

“Komm, Caleb,” she said. “You are thinking of another answer. I can see it in your face. Just tell me.”

He leaned toward her, elbows on his knees. They were very close, knees almost touching. It seemed to him that he could feel the warmth that came from her.

“Most of the merchants are pleased about Pennsylvania Dutch Days,” he said slowly. “But not everyone in town feels that way.”

Her expressive face told him she'd already considered that answer. “I didn't want to think it was because of our plans. No one has said anything to me directly, but . . . well, there's been a feeling.”

“Ja.” He gave in to the urge to put his hand over hers. “Some think the attention may bring trouble along with the increased business, but it's hard to imagine they'd do the very thing they're afraid of. And there are some who feel it's all for nothing and will fail.”

Katie seemed to shiver. “That's what keeps me awake at night. What if we've gone to all this trouble and no one comes?”

His fingers tightened over hers almost without his intending it. “You can't think that way. Most of Pleasant Valley is buzzing, and not just the village, but the rest of the valley as well. William says that Rachel Zook is bringing plenty of plants from her greenhouse.”

“Ja.” Katie brightened. “She'll set up a table next to the quilt shop. But if people don't show up to buy . . .”

“Well, then we'll know that doesn't work. No one will blame you.” He hoped that was true.

“I'm not so sure.” Her hand seemed to clench in his. “I'm new here, ain't so? I want to belong. But if this doesn't work, that might not be possible. And if it does, but a lot of people don't like it or think it causes trouble, the answer is the same.”

“Katie, stop. You already fit in. You have lots of friends.”
And something more in me.
But Caleb couldn't quite bring himself to say the words. “All the women from the quilting groups, and the people you've met through the Dutch Days, and ...”

And him? How could he let himself get serious about Katie? She'd tried to assure him that people no longer blamed him for what had happened with Mattie, but he couldn't quite accept that. And what had been wrong with him, that he could have been engaged to marry Mattie and not have even suspected that there was someone else in her life?

Whether Katie believed it or not, he still bore the taint of what had happened. He couldn't expect someone else to join him under his cloud, could he?

He sensed Katie drawing back even before she pulled her hand free.

“I'm sure you're right.” Katie's voice was brittle, and he felt as if he had failed a test. “I'll try not to be so foolish. You just caught me in a weak moment.”

“Not you.” He tried to smile, tried to regain the easy, teasing spirit between them, and knew he couldn't.

“What is this?” She nodded toward the envelopes he'd dropped on the table.

“Sorry, I'm forgetting. The mail. Rhoda asked me to bring it out.”

Katie picked up the envelopes, maybe glad of something to distract her from Caleb. She leafed through them quickly and then stopped, staring. She put the others down, caressing one envelope.

“What is it?” He couldn't help asking the question, even though it was none of his business.

“I had sent a note to my friend Jessica,” she said, her voice slowing. “I thought it was time—past time—that I showed her I am over what happened between us. Here is her answer.”

“Aren't you going to open it?” Or maybe she was waiting to be alone. “I should leave anyway—”

“No, stay,” she said quickly. She looked a little embarrassed. “I wouldn't mind having some moral support right now.”

“Courage,” he said, gripping her shoulder briefly. “It will be all right. Like Rhoda and Becky.”

Katie smiled a little at the reminder. She ripped open the envelope. Its contents dropped onto the table, and she stared. He did, as well. The woman had sent Katie's note back, unopened.

“I'm sorry,” he began, taking a step closer, longing to comfort her and not knowing how. “She didn't mean it. I'm sure she regrets it already.”

“I don't think so.” Katie picked up the envelope, her fingers shaking a little. “She doesn't forgive me. I left it too late, and now Jessica can't forgive me.”

“Katie—” His heart overflowed with pity and concern for her. “You can't . . .”

She shook her head, holding up her hand as if to silence him. “Don't, Caleb.”

She rose, seeming a little unsteady for a moment. Then she turned and fled inside, leaving her lunch lying on the table. And leaving him with nothing to do about the pain he felt in his heart.

 

 

Katie
had put the envelope out of sight in a drawer, but she couldn't put it out of her mind.
Forgiveness.
The word kept echoing in her heart as she replayed everything she'd heard Bishop Mose say about it.

She'd recognized that she was doing wrong. She'd tried to change. But Jessica had thrown her effort right back in her face. Katie felt as if she'd been slapped.

She automatically set up the room for the quilting group. She knew the church's teaching on forgiveness was right. But what did you do when your forgiveness wasn't accepted?

It was a relief when the quilters began to arrive. She couldn't think of herself when she was busy with them.

In just a few meetings, they'd settled into a routine—some working on the machines while others pinned and cut, stopping to help each other almost before she noticed that help was needed.

Donna came in right on time, but with a discontented expression on her face. She held up her forefinger, looking at Katie accusingly. “I have paint on my hand from your new window frames.”

“I'm so sorry.” Katie hurried to get her paper towels. “I'm sure it will wipe right off. If not, I'll get some paint thinner.” But she couldn't help reflecting that it looked as if Donna had touched the paint to see if it was dry.

“That's funny,” Lisa said innocently, glancing up from her work. “I was sure there was a Wet Paint sign out there.”

For a moment the two adversaries glared at each other. Katie held her breath. How could this group become what she wanted if these two were always fratching?

Suddenly Donna threw back her head with a hearty laugh. “All right, you got me,” she said, shaking her head. “I'm the person who can never resist testing a Wet Paint sign for myself.”

The others chuckled, perhaps with relief.

“Ach, I do that as well,” Emma admitted. “Some of us are just made that way.”

Donna had barely settled to her work when Melanie came rushing in, a bit late as always. Surely the hardware store couldn't always become busy just when she had to leave, could it?

“I'm sorry,” Melanie said, her cheeks bright pink. “Don't let me interrupt you.”

“It's fine,” Molly assured her. “We are just getting started. You are all flushed, Melanie. Are you all right?”

“I'm . . . I'm fine,” she said, her color deepening still more. “I didn't want to be late so I ran, that's all.”

Wanting to draw attention away from Melanie, Katie began demonstrating the technique of chain sewing, a shortcut most experienced quilters used when working on the machine. She'd taken to demonstrating a different technique each week, hoping that would keep things interesting, even though it was old stuff for the experienced quilters.

Soon everyone was deep into her work and just as deep into conversation. Katie loved hearing that—it was the sound of a quilting circle that was melding the women so that they were becoming friends even as they worked.

And then she realized that Donna's voice had risen. “I'm sure you mean well,” she said to Lisa, “but the last thing we need in Pleasant Valley is a lot of outsiders. Tourists. We live here because we like it the way it is. Of course, you are a relative newcomer.”

And what did that make her? Katie wondered. Lisa had been here for several years.

“That's rather shortsighted,” Lisa said tartly. “There are plenty of people in town who are struggling to keep their businesses open. If they all have to close down for lack of business, what will Pleasant Valley be like then?”

Donna flushed dangerously. “I know a little more about this community than you do. Things will even out. They always do. In the meantime—”

“In the meantime, people are hurting,” Lisa snapped.

Katie had to intervene before the argument escalated, but how? Before she could think of an answer, Melanie did it for her. Across the combatants' voices, she spoke to Molly.

“I love that pattern you're doing, Molly. What is it?” Molly jumped in right away, holding up her work almost in Donna's face. “This is a Log Cabin, an old, old design. There are as many variations of it as there are quilters, ain't so, Naomi?”

“Ach, ja,” Naomi said. “It means something different to everyone, I think. That's the way it is with the old patterns.”

Melanie looked intrigued. “How can a quilt pattern mean something different?”

Molly smiled, touching her fabric. “I picked this pattern because my husband had to work away for so long. Now that he is settled in a gut job here, this quilt will remind me how happy I am that we have a home.”

“Ja,” Naomi said softly. “It was hard on you, on any married couple, to be separated that way. It's not how things are meant to be.”

Melanie leaned forward, her expression serious. “You Amish get married awfully young, don't you?”

“Not always,” Molly said. “But often we are ready by the time we're twenty or twenty-one.”

“That means you're going to be together for a long time. I mean, I know you don't believe in divorce.”

“Marriage is forever,” Emma said. “When you have troubles, you just have to work them out.” Her eyes twinkled. “My husband was the most stubborn man in the world, and there were times I didn't speak to him for days. But we always made up.”

“
He
was stubborn?” Naomi looked fondly at her friend. “You are every bit as stubborn as he was, that's certain-sure.”

“Well, maybe so. He put up with a lot, all those years I was catching babies.” Emma seemed to glance into the past and smile at what she saw there.

“You must know your heart,” Naomi added. “That's what I told my children. Know this is the person for you, because you are married forever.”

“Ja,” Myra said softly. “You want to marry someone who is a gut friend, like my Joseph. That's important.”

Melanie stared at her, a mix of emotions on her face. Katie realized that the Crazy Quilt pattern was crumpled in her hands.

“Melanie? Is something wrong?”

Melanie wiped tears from her cheeks. She smoothed out the fabric. “I just . . . Maybe I have prewedding jitters.” Her smile was a little wobbly. “Everybody says that's natural.”

To Katie's surprise, it was Donna who came and put her arm around Melanie's shoulders. “I'm sure it is. But if you have doubts, there's nothing wrong with waiting.”

“That's right.” Lisa put her hand over Melanie's. “There's no need to rush into anything.”

“I shouldn't have said that.” Melanie seemed to realize just how much she'd confided in them. Her cheeks flushed. “Really, everything is okay. Please, forget what I said.”

She looked so distressed that Katie hurried to reassure her. “We won't say anything. It's all right.”

Murmurs of agreement came from the others.

“Lots of secrets are shared at a quilting frolic,” Naomi said, her voice gentle. “That's as it should be. When we work together, we share our thoughts, but everyone in the group will keep them private.”

Melanie's smile trembled just a little. “Good. Because really, everything's fine.”

Was it? Katie hoped so. Despite her hopes for the group, she hadn't anticipated that the quilting circle would lead to that sort of sharing, especially from an Englisch person.

But Naomi was right . . . women became close over a quilt, and maybe it didn't matter whether they were Englisch or Amish.

 

 

Everyone
on Pleasant Valley's main street was busy, it seemed to Katie, getting ready for Pennsylvania Dutch Days. The volunteer fire company even had its ladder truck out, hanging a banner welcoming visitors. Lisa had procured the banner, Katie wasn't sure how, but it certainly did seem to make the project official.

Across the street and down a bit, Katie could see Melanie setting up tables in front of the hardware store. She watched the girl for a moment. Her bright green shirt and blue jeans were her usual cheerful attire, but she hadn't been so cheerful yesterday.

Katie's broom paused as she thought of that conversation. Melanie had brought up the subject of marriage a couple of times, almost as if she needed to talk about it. Was Melanie's upset just prewedding jitters? That could happen to any bride, surely, no matter how happy she was.

Or was Melanie's emotional display a sign of something more serious? Judging by Lisa's and Donna's reactions, they thought it possible.

Well, she couldn't offer any advice. She certain-sure wasn't an expert on the subject of engagements.

Melanie turned, saw her, and waved, smiling. Katie waved back, relieved at the smile. Whatever had caused Melanie's mood yesterday seemed to have cleared up today.