Irene cut her off again. “I don’t need to know more than I do now, Anna. We all have checkered pasts. Even me.”
“Even you?”
With a hint of humor, Irene’s eyes sparkled. “Well, some pasts might be a bit more checkered than others, but what’s important is what is between you and the Lord. It all comes back to the Lord, Anna.”
Pulling the bowl closer, Anna murmured, “I’ll get these beans done for supper.”
With a sigh, Irene pulled herself up to her feet. “I suppose I must get to work, too. I’ve hired two girls to come help me clean today. Watch out for them, will ya? I don’t want to see them yakking away in the guest rooms when there’s woodwork to be oiled.”
“I’ll keep a close eye on them, for sure.” Digging her hands into the cool nest of beans, Anna grabbed another pod and broke it cleanly.
And as she thought about Irene’s words, and how God was looking out for all of them, even in the darkest of days, she reflected how much better she felt. How much more at peace she was living the Amish ways. It was like she was made for this lifestyle all along. And all the hardships she had gone through in the past were directing her to this place, and the man that she loved.
Closing her eyes, Anna said a prayer of thanks. Yes, things were so much easier when she remembered she wasn’t alone. And never had been.
Now that she wasn’t in so much pain, Winnie was settling into her old routines. Though she was anxious to go back to work at the store, she didn’t mind helping Katie with the girls and the housework as often as she could.
Now, as they were working on Anna’s wedding ring quilt, Katie seemed particularly thoughtful. Winnie had quite a few thoughts of her own—mainly about Samuel Miller, so she didn’t mind the quiet in the least.
But Katie broke the peaceful moment before Winnie had even needed to thread her needle more than once. “You know, I can’t help but think about the fire. No matter what I do, my mind keeps drifting back to that.”
“I don’t know if hosting the singing helped much. Do you?”
Biting her lip, Katie shrugged. “Only time will tell.”
Winnie leaned over the fabric and concentrated on making straight, even stiches. Recalling how most of the teenagers hadn’t been especially eager to speak with them, she said, “Goodness, Katie, I don’t know why we thought the teens would tell us anything.”
“They were friendly.”
“That is true. But it’s not like they were eager to go about telling us any deep, dark secrets.” With a touch of sentiment, Winnie imagined things weren’t so much different now than when she was their age. Teens were rarely in a hurry to seek out the advice of someone older.
“I guess not. But I might understand their problems more than they think.”
Winnie nodded. She knew of Holly, the English girl Katie’d befriended during her running around time. Though Katie hadn’t spoken of it much, Winnie knew Katie had once fancied an English boy, Holly’s brother.
“There wasn’t anyone who you thought acted suspiciously?” Winnie asked.
“The only one was David, who I know hangs around Caleb quite a bit. Do you know him?”
“Only the family. They keep to themselves.”
“That David’s a strange one. Kind of timid and nervous.” Chuckling, Katie shook her head. “Forget I even mentioned him. He’s too nervous to do anything without his parents’ permission. Gosh, when I was talking to him about our plans for the barn raising, he looked scared to death. I don’t think he’s very handy with tools
either. He hurt his hands on some barbed wire something awful.”
“I guess we’ll just have to keep thinking, then,” Winnie said as they drifted back toward working in silence.
After all that worrying about how to discover the fire starter’s identity, Winnie came across a clue a few days later—when she least expected it. It was there in the buggy next to hers—mixed in with a canvas bag of groceries and a basket of dry pinto beans. A carelessly tossed package of cigarettes.
She looked around. Whose buggy was this? As she used her crutches to peer a little closer into the buggy, she heard footsteps crossing from Sam McClusky’s general store to the parking lot.
“Winnie? Miss Lundy? Is something wrong?”
She started. Turning away from the evidence, she met the golden-hued eyes of Caleb Miller. Oh, dear. Had Katie been right? Could Caleb really have been the person who’d started the fire?
What should she do now? Tell Eli?
But what if Eli didn’t even know Caleb was smoking? Surely it wasn’t her place to tell him! Yet…he and Sam had done so much for her brother and Katie. Wasn’t it her duty to let them know what she’d seen?
More distressing, what if they did know something but were choosing to keep it secret?
“Winnie? You look kind of funny. Do you need to sit down or somethin’?”
“No, Caleb. I’m fine,” she lied. “Sorry my mind drifted. I, uh, just saw something that reminded me of my past.”
He cocked his head to one side. “Really? What did you see?”
She couldn’t blame Caleb for his surprise, she was having trouble at the moment thinking of a single memory that would have anything to do with his buggy. But still, it was time to come up with an excuse!
“Yes, I, uh, saw your basket of dried beans and was remembering a time I cooked them for Jonathan and the girls. They were truly verra bad. Jonathan was sick for a whole night, I tell you that.” There. Now he would look into his basket and realize what she’d seen. He’d be flustered and tell her why he’d been smoking. And, more importantly, what happened the night the barn burned.
But instead of looking guilty, he just smiled. “That must have been a terribly long time ago.”
“Not so long.”
When she made a point to stare at the basket again, Caleb glanced at it, too. For a moment his grin faltered as it was obvious they were both staring at the exposed carton of cigarettes.
Furtively, he reached a hand in through the open back window and not-so-stealthily tried to cover them up. Winnie kept her expression wide-eyed and innocent. It would be better for Caleb to offer an explanation instead of her pressing him for one.
But still, she didn’t look away when he met her gaze sheepishly. “I guess I shouldn’t even try to hide them, should I? You going to tell my brothers?”
“About the beans? Or…about what else was in that basket?”
“You know. The cigarettes.”
“You shouldn’t be smoking, you know.” Oh, she half expected lightning to burst out of the clouds above her, she sounded so very prim. Still, she waited. Waited for him to admit that he’d been in the barn.
Waited for him to tell her he’d made an awful mistake.
“I know.” He shrugged. “They aren’t mine anyway.”
“Come now, Caleb.”
“I’m tellin’ the truth! A friend of mine—well, he’s kind of a friend—he all the sudden said he didn’t want them anymore but couldn’t get rid of them at his place.”
“Who is this friend?”
“I don’t want to say. Anyway, he passed them on to me. I kind of forgot about them.”
“Really?” She doubted any such “friend” had given Caleb the cigarettes. No, he’d just been caught.
“Really.” His eyes blazed, daring her to doubt him. “I didn’t want them, but my friend made me take them in order to throw them away. I didn’t feel like I had a choice.” He paused. Looked at her with wide eyes. “Have you ever felt like that?”
She nodded. Of course she knew. Everyone faced situations like that. When she’d gone to Indiana to see Malcolm, she’d known right away that he wasn’t
the one for her. Yet she stayed. It would have been most embarrassing to admit such a mistake…when she’d begged and pleaded to go for weeks beforehand. Of course by then Katie and Jonathan had fallen in love, so her going to Indiana had served a purpose in the end.
“My parents aren’t home right now, you know,” he said quickly. “They’re in Lancaster. All that’s home is Eli and now Sam, and I don’t know what they’d say. I’d just rather they not find out, you know?”
“I understand. It’s one thing to have to answer to parents, another when it’s an older brother.”
“They say things like they understand, but they’re different than me. Neither of them ever wanted just to goof off for a little bit.”
“Instead of worrying about who I’m going to tell, I think you should tell me the whole story.”
He kicked the wheel of his buggy, causing his horse to snort in annoyance. “What do you mean? They’re just cigarettes—not drugs. I wasn’t doing anything too bad.”
Winnie treaded carefully. “You know…sometimes accidents can happen. Things can happen when we don’t even mean for them to.”
Caleb bit his lip. “I know that.”
What did he know? “So, where has this boy you know been smoking?”
“I don’t know.”
“Are you sure? Maybe he’s been sneaking around. At night? Maybe he’s been going to other people’s places?”
“I don’t—” His eyes widened. “What are you asking?”
“Nothing,” she replied, back-pedaling fast. She’d wanted Caleb to confess to his part in the fire, not rely on her to coax it out of him.
And what if she was wrong about everything?
“Never mind. Like I said, I promise I won’t tell your parents.”
“
Danke
,” he said with a nod, then turned away.
Well, she wasn’t lying—she wasn’t going to tell his parents a thing. But she was going to tell Eli. He needed to know what his brother was doing.
And even if it was all innocent, it wasn’t her place to guess what needed to be done.
Pointing to the smashed box of cigarettes, he mumbled, “I’ll get rid of these soon.”
“The sooner the better, yes?”
Caleb didn’t answer.
Sam couldn’t deny it, he couldn’t stop thinking about Winnie Lundy. Every time he’d been in her company, he’d found himself sneaking glances at her every chance he could get. He found her smooth black hair intriguing. And those dimples delighted him just enough to want to encourage her to smile as often as possible.
He liked her spunk, too. Sam knew more than one woman who would not have bounced back from injuries as well as Winnie Lundy did. No, she was no meek miss.
Yes, he’d thought quite a bit about Winnie, and about living Amish while he was back at home. Helping to
plow fields and put into practice some of his agricultural theories had been a treat as well.
As had being close to Caleb.
But then he’d gone back to his real life. He slept in his apartment, watched ESPN, and worked nonstop. But nothing seemed the same.
Yes, he’d seen her that time he went to the Lundys’ for meatloaf. He’d also talked to her when she’d called.
But it wasn’t enough.
And though his feelings for her worried him, he found that he didn’t want to push her away from his thoughts. No, he liked thinking about her. Liked seeing her. And he needed to see her again. Needed it as much as heirloom tomatoes needed good fertilizer.
Free from responsibilities, on Saturday morning he drove back to the small area of stores in the outskirts of Peebles and found the antique shop where Winnie had recently started working again.
After parking in the gravel lot around the corner, Sam walked in, then felt like a bull in a china shop…or what he was—a large man in a flowery, cramped jumble of breakable items.
The place set his teeth on edge.
Then he spied her. A wrinkle had settled in between Winnie’s expressive eyes as she counted a bunch of tiny porcelain thimbles on the counter in front of her. Yet still…she looked as pretty as ever.
Her head snapped up when he knocked into a rickety picture frame. “Sam?”
“Winnie,” he said, just as calm as could be. It was a pleasure to watch the range of emotions cross her expression. She went from harried to shocked to pleased to…he wasn’t sure what. The wide-eyed expression on her face was definitely something he would always be glad he saw, it was almost comical.
Oh, Winnie Lundy lightened his day just by being herself. He was terribly glad he’d decided to come see her.
Finally, she spoke. “Is everything all right?” Lumbering to her feet, she scanned his face. “Are the girls sick? Katie?”
He motioned for her to rest herself. “Everyone’s fine, Win. Sit down, now, before you hurt your foot.”
“Then why…why are you here?”
Of course she would ask the obvious. That was Winnie’s way, no mincing words for her! Feeling vaguely embarrassed, he answered her. “I just thought I’d pay you a visit today and maybe see if you would have time to go to lunch.” Yes. Lunch. Food was always a good idea.
Even in the dim light, Sam noticed her cheeks pinken. “Oh. I’m sorry. I…I brought my lunch.”
“Oh.” Was that how it was, then? He’d mistaken their burgeoning friendship to mean far more to her than it did? “Well, then, I guess I’ll just look around, then.”
She opened her mouth, shut it, then nodded.
He was left to wander around the place and try not to knock into things. He felt like a clumsy fool.
From the back room, an elderly lady spied him and approached, her gray dress almost fading in with some of the washed-out upholstery of two sofas. “May I help you?”
“No. I, um, was just looking around.”
A gleam flickered in her narrow eyes. “For something special, perhaps?” She picked up a monstrous china pear. “Fruit makes nice gifts.”
He couldn’t imagine a worse item to receive. “Surely?”
“Oh, yes. It’s not something one would buy for oneself.”
He was stuck in the conversation and he couldn’t get out. “
Jah
. I mean, yes, I can see that.”
Winnie blurted, “He’s with me, Madeline.”
“Ah.” Sizing him up, the small woman looked him up and down. “Perhaps you came here looking for something special after all, hmm?”
“I only stopped by for a moment.” He backed toward the door.
“You don’t have to leave right away, Samuel,” Winnie said.
“Oh?” There’d been a hint of sweetness in her voice. Maybe things weren’t as awkward as he’d feared?
He shifted his weight for a moment back and forth, then was thankful when the owner shuffled off toward the back and they were alone again. He looked for something to say. “So, how’s business today?”
“Slow.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“I don’t mind too much, not really. It’s my first day back and all.”
“I thought you were going to try and rest.” Remembering how stern the nurse’s instructions had been, he murmured, “You should’ve listened.”
“I have been resting. But it was time to go to work.” Winnie slowly got to her feet. “Madeline?” she called out. “Would you mind so much if I took a break?”
As quick as lightning, the lady poked her head out of the back room again. “No. Take your time, Winifred. Be careful, please. Don’t want to knock over the merchandise.”
Sam stepped forward. “I’ll be glad to help you out of here.” Anything to leave the claustrophobic environment!
“Danke,”
she murmured.
Now that he felt in charge again, Sam curved a hand around her waist before she had time to move away. “Make your way slowly, and I’ll be here for you in case you fall.” Lowering his voice, he murmured, “I’m far more worried about your neck than ugly fruit.”
Winnie fought off a giggle. Then she concentrated on fighting off other feelings—such as the tingle she felt from Sam’s hand around her waist.
Or how special she’d felt when he’d said those wonderful words.
I’ll be here for you.
As she felt the heat from his hand coax through the fabric, making her warm and toasty, she hopped a little
bit faster through the mixed up maze. “I don’t know what we’re going to do when I don’t need your help anymore.”