Patchwork Dreams (11 page)

Or maybe he was laughing over the gullible Missouri girl falling for him.

A tear crept out of the corner of her right eye. She brushed at it and turned away.

A buggy moved down the drive toward the road. The bishop raised his hand but drove on by. He must have been the last customer, which meant that Daed would come out of the shop any moment.

She didn’t need Daed to see her acting like a little lost puppy, waiting for Jacob to reappear.

Becky brushed at her eyes again, squared her shoulders, and went inside.

***

Jacob tossed Susie’s letter onto the bed, hung up his coat, and went to wash his hands. He’d save the letter to savor later in the day, when his chores were done. Something to look forward to.

He figured the letter explained the look of betrayal in Becky’s eyes, but not why she would feel abandoned. She knew about Susie. He’d been straightforward about their relationship from day one.

If anything, Becky was the “other woman.” He really should ask Susie for a break so that he could think. Ever since that run to McDonald’s to fetch Becky, something had changed. Jah, he needed to think about his relationship with Susie. Though how much thinking he’d do, daily tempted by Becky, he didn’t know.

He didn’t understand why it hurt him so much when she felt pain. Why the confusion about his feelings for her? It should have been cut-and-dried. Susie was his future.

Maybe.

Jacob rolled his shoulders and strode toward the door.

Going into the shared kitchen in the main house, he found the family already gathered around the table, except for Daniel, who stood drying his hands with a towel. Jacob nodded toward him, then slid into his seat, his eyes searching Becky’s face.

She raised her eyes to meet his, tears shimmering in their depths. Then, just as quickly, her glance lowered.

He hoped that she’d seen his silent apology but feared she hadn’t.

It shouldn’t have mattered so much, but it did.

Jacob sighed. He knew that he should have been keeping his distance from Becky, but instead, he’d been seeking her out, trying to talk to her, reaching out to her.

As curious as he was as to why, the prospect of finding the answer scared him.

Becky needed contact with someone who loved her. She picked up Emma, even though the baby seemed completely content lying on her back in the cradle and kicking her feet at the string of bells Mamm had strung across the rails. Becky swaddled her in a sling that had been a boppli gift from her great-aunt Martha. A gift that Becky appreciated and used quite often. It was a handy way to carry Emma when she was fussy or if Becky needed to go somewhere. Right up next to the body. Whoever had thought of that was a genius.

Once the baby-bearing sling was in place, Becky started the kitchen chores. Mamm had already rolled out crusts for the pies, and when she brought out some dried apples from their fall harvest, Becky realized she was making schnitz pie. Relief washed over her to know that she wouldn’t have to bake her special apple pies. She didn’t want to go to all that work for Amos Kropf. Not right after making them for Jacob…. Ach, she shouldn’t go there, but it still hurt that Jacob had refused a piece. Maybe he didn’t like it.

There was something wrong with him if he didn’t. Everyone liked apple pie. Right?

“I thought we’d have fried chicken tonight,” Mamm whispered with a glance around the kitchen. “It’s Mary’s favorite, and we do have plenty of hens.”

Becky nodded, but she could never stomach killing a chicken and eating it the same day.

That didn’t really matter, though, since she wouldn’t be able to eat a bite of anything with Amos Kropf at the table. The way he looked at her made her feel dirty. Cheap.

It reminded her of how she’d felt after Kent’s lies had circulated. The way she still felt when she got around some of the young men.

Ach, if only she could go out with Jacob tonight.

But he’d hesitated for a few seconds too long when he’d asked, as if he might not have meant it. And then, there was that letter to consider. She should have thrown it in the fire. If only this Susie didn’t exist.

She started peeling the mound of potatoes her mother had placed beside the sink, setting the peeled spuds onto a sheet of newspaper.

“The schnitz pies just went in the oven,” Mamm announced. “I’m going to kill the chickens.” She touched Becky’s shoulder and stood still a long moment, her hand resting there comfortably. Then, she pulled Becky into a sideways hug. “If you care to talk, I’m willing to listen.”

Tears burned Becky’s eyes, and she struggled to keep from flinging herself into Mamm’s arms and crying out all her woes—her hopeless feelings for Jacob, her deep dislike of Amos Kropf, and her willingness to be a maidal all her life if Jacob wouldn’t have her.

But emotions were something Becky had thought she’d gotten under control. At least, until Jacob had arrived. She’d cried more over her mistakes in the past several days than she had since Kent’s rejection of her and Emma, and since the lies had begun.

Mamm lingered a moment, gave her another squeeze, then released her. “I’ll be right back. When you see Katie, ask her to bring in the laundry, okay? I asked her to get the gifts for Mary ready. But I’m thinking we’ll celebrate her birthday either before the Kropfs arrive or tomorrow. It really isn’t a gut time for company.”

That would be the only negative thing Mamm would say about Daed’s having invited Amos Kropf and family to supper.

The door shut behind Mamm. Becky shifted the sling and the now sleeping Emma, growing heavy at her side.

She sighed and picked up the next potato.

***

Jacob looked up from the forge, disturbed by the sudden squawking of chickens. Daniel didn’t seem to be paying much mind to the racket, but Jacob worried that something was bothering them. He decided to check it out, so he put down his things. It could be a fox. “I’ll be right back,” he told Daniel.

Daniel nodded, and Jacob made a beeline toward the chicken coop. Leah, holding an ax in one hand and a chicken in the other, was headed toward a stump in the yard.

Jacob stood there watching for a moment. Should he offer to help her kill the chicken? He felt a bit disappointed that it was Leah and not Becky, but then he realized that Becky would be in the house, away from her mamm’s eyes. He wasn’t sure where the grossmammi spent her days, but she certainly never seemed to show up in the kitchen except at mealtimes. Odd. His grossmammi loved to cook.

No matter. If Becky was alone, maybe he could talk with her.

And a couple of cookies sounded right good. A cup of coffee, too.

Whistling, he strode toward the house, opened the door, and paused to wipe his feet before entering the kitchen. There she was, wrapping up a bundle of something into a damp newspaper.

“Hey, Bex. Got a minute?” He stopped beside her at the sink and reached for a bar of soap.

He didn’t look at her as he soaped up, but he sensed her freeze and then stiffen.

He wanted to ask her to walk with him again, but then his nose caught a whiff of something sweet, and he realized that the scent came from the oven. She probably wouldn’t want to leave whatever was baking unattended.

“Jah.” Her reply was belated.

“Gut. I could use a cup of coffee and maybe a cookie or two. Take a break with me?”

Becky hesitated. “Nein. I need to slice the potatoes.” She picked up a knife and turned away.

She must be an expert at rejection.

Jacob frowned and poured himself some coffee.

“Mamm said you and Daed need one of those Englisch coffeepots in the shop.”

Jacob lowered the cup without taking a sip. She had to be teasing.

He turned to face her. “If we had a coffeepot out there, then I wouldn’t get to see your pretty face so much.” He added a wink. Surely, that would make her smile.

Color crept up her neck, and she shifted again, adjusting a blue thing that hung from her shoulder. He saw Emma asleep inside.

“Is that getting heavy for you?” Jacob put the cup down and stepped toward her.

“Jah. A bit.”

“Here. Put the knife down. I’ll help you.”

He waited while she laid the knife down and turned to face him. Then, he put one arm under her sleeping boppli and, with the other, gently eased the contraption off of her. “Want her in the cradle?”

“Jah.” She rolled her shoulders and neck.

Jacob eased Emma into the cradle and folded the blue blanket-like thing as best he could. Then, he moved toward Becky again. “Want a massage?”

Her eyes widened. Color shot into her cheeks. “Nein. Danki.”

“Relax, Bex.” He could feel the tension radiating from her as he went past, reaching for the cookie jar. He lifted the lid and pulled out two cookies, hesitated, and went for a third. They were chocolate chip with walnuts. His favorite, and he hoped to tempt Becky to take a break.

He set the cookies down on the table, putting one at her place. Then, he poured a second cup of coffee for her. “Kum, Bex. You did say you had a minute.” He aimed a grin in her direction. “Please?”

After a moment’s hesitation, she nodded and lowered herself into the chair. “Did you open Susie’s letter?”

Jacob’s smile froze. Died. “Nein. Not yet.” Did she feel the need to remind him of Susie every time they were alone together? How would she react if he told her he wanted to take a break with Susie, to sort out the confusing whirl of emotions coursing through him, and to possibly pursue a relationship with her?

He reached across the table for her hand, intending to do just that. His fingers grazed hers. Sparks ignited.

The door opened. Closed with a bang. In his peripheral vision, he saw Becky’s mamm enter the room.

She paused, surveying the scene. “What’s going on?”

Her tone didn’t sound judgmental, but Jacob suddenly considered the impropriety of his actions. He pulled his arm back, stood, and spun.

“I’d best be getting back to the shop.” He snatched up his cup of coffee and the cookies and exited the kitchen as fast as he could.

***

Becky’s skin still tingled from Jacob’s touch. Her face burned with embarrassment at Mamm’s interruption, but thankfully, Mamm went to work without another word.

Becky picked up the knife, noticing that her hands trembled. She hoped that she wouldn’t accidentally slice one of her fingers. She took a potato and pushed the knife through it with a force that might have caused the wooden cutting board to protest if it could talk.

Why couldn’t Jacob leave her alone?

And, more important, why did she have to respond? Why hadn’t she jerked away and run from the room? The way he continually reached for her, he probably believed that she really was as loose as Kent claimed. And then what? He’d try to lure her up into the dark recesses of the barn loft?

Becky froze and swallowed a sob, the knife suspended just millimeters above the potato.

Ach, God. How much are You asking me to bear? I can’t go through this a second time.

But then again, which was worse? Jacob giving her attention that made her feel loved and wanted, or being forced to endure unwanted advances from Amos Kropf, a man who might be her future husband?

Why did she always have to fall for the guys who “loved them and left them,” as she’d once heard some Englisch girls say? It seemed to fit.

The knife slammed against the cutting board again. This time, Mamm turned around. “Daughter, if you keep that up, you’re going to dull the knife. Send Katie out to the kitchen. I think you need to go to your room and spend some time in prayer.”

Becky hesitated a moment, wanting to talk back. But maybe being alone was exactly what she needed. And maybe she could take that big family Bible upstairs and do some reading, too. Sometimes, she yearned to go deeper—something forbidden by their Old-Order Amish Ordnung.

But then, once, she’d caught Mamm with a Bible study guide. She’d quietly shut it and hadn’t acted bothered at all. She’d only said something about them all having their own private vices.

And they did. After all, Daed carried a cell phone. He said it was for business, but Becky had seen him use it for personal calls.

She quietly put the knife down and left the room with a glance at the sleeping Emma. She found Katie pushing a dust rag around the gas light fixtures in the living room. “Mamm wants you.”

“Okay.” Katie balled up the dust rag and walked toward Becky. “You like him, ain’t so?”

She hadn’t specified who “him” was, but Becky knew. She stared at Katie for a moment, wondering if her sister had come into the kitchen while she and Jacob had been sitting at the table and he had touched her hand. Or maybe she’d only heard them talking. Katie’s gaze revealed nothing.

Becky swallowed. Hard. “He has a sweetheart.”

Katie’s grin was crooked. “She needs to be worried. He’s into you.”

Stunned by the Englisch words, Becky watched Katie go past, then turned and ran up the stairs. Could it be true? Might Jacob really like her that way? Her bedroom window faced the blacksmith shop. For a long while, she stood there, staring out, hoping for a glance of Jacob. He didn’t come into view.

Finally, she turned away. Going into her parents’ room, she found Mamm’s small Bible. She settled down on her parents’ bed and opened the Book.

She didn’t know how long she’d sat there reading and praying for peace and understanding, as well as a reprieve from the evening’s plans, but finally a shadow crossed the door, and Mamm stepped in. “You’d best kum down now, daughter. Amos Kropf is here.”

Jacob helped Daniel put away tools in the blacksmith shop, then flipped the sign in the window so that it read “Closed.” Not that the sign seemed to matter much. Everyone around town appeared to know the hours, and those who came when it was closed just had to go up to the house. Daniel would help them, even if only by taking their items and writing them on the list of projects to do the next day.

Still, Jacob could have used several more hours out here. Since he’d left the kitchen, he’d been mentally kicking himself for his inappropriate actions toward Becky. How dare he have asked her if she wanted a massage? It was a good thing she’d refused his forward offer. How could he face her again? Yet he didn’t want to keep his distance. The dinner with Amos Kropf loomed like a menacing storm. The way that man looked at Becky…it was just wrong.