The Preacher's Daughter (12 page)

As for the pre-wedding expenses, Louisa had offered to pay her parents back, over many years' time.
At least the next twenty or so
. But Mother would not hear of it, most likely because she assumed Louisa might snap out of it and return to Michael's waiting arms. To put that belief to rest, Louisa insisted on canceling everything herself, from the Brown Palace reservations to the white stretch limo.

At this moment, she felt more relaxed than she had in months, and much of it had to do with Annie putting out the proverbial welcome mat. She was bemused as to how the Zook family could have possibly understood her wishes, that she needed a clean break from Michael, not to mention some distancing from her parents, as well as hoping to infuse herself in the simple life for as long as possible. Annie's open-ended invite proved once again her opinion that she and her Amish pen friend were on similar wavelengths, having shared rather confidentially in their letters.

Leaning her head back, she spotted a billboard for the Rock-vale Square Outlets.
Discount malls abound even in Amish country. . . .

But most alarming was seeing firsthand precisely what Annie had been writing about for years, that the business sector was encroaching on precious farmland. Too many non-Amish farmers were selling their land to developers. Town houses, patio homes, and large custom homes were rising up out of the world's most fertile soil.

Stunningly sad,
she thought.
Actually stupid!

Having grown up in Denver, she might easily have viewed all the new development as a nonissue. But because of her close relationship with Annie, she had some empathy for ‘‘the People,'' as Annie liked to refer to her church community, and their problems.

No wonder the Amish are searching for land elsewhere!

Well, there was certainly ample land in other states. Take Colorado with its wide-open spaces such as the sprawling ranches situated between the small cities of Monument and Castle Rock. And thousands of acres of grazing land stretching out to the east, toward the Kansas state line. But the semi-arid climate and high altitude were not conducive to the array of crops Annie's People were accustomed to growing.

She leaned up to ask the taxi driver, ‘‘How far to Paradise?''

‘‘Oh, a good ten miles or so, miss.''

Miss
. The bleak realization hit her once more. The sadness, no, the deception hurt the most.

Shaking her head, she found herself exasperated anew at her father's interference in her life. One of the reasons she had desired to come to Pennsylvania was to sort out her feelings. She needed to put things together in her head . . . and in her heart. Remaining in Colorado had not been one of the options she allowed herself. Except for her enthusiastic students, nothing held her there any longer. She had seen to it that they each had plenty of assignments to keep them busy. That way if she decided to be away longer than a month, she was set.

She stared down at her ‘‘Palm,'' the minicomputer, organizer, cell phone, and camera all rolled into one very cool gadget, and wondered how she would ever manage without it, along with her fabulous car, her favorite DVDs, and her many jazz CDs. Despite any small misgivings she felt now, she couldn't wait to see Annie, to talk with her in person. That alone she hoped would make up for the abandonment of all her high-tech toys.

Weird,
she thought,
having such affinity to a Plain girl
.

Next to her on the seat, in the pet carrier, Muffin opened his kitty eyes and looked at her through the mesh window as if to say,
Where are you taking me?

Leaning over, she whispered, ‘‘You'll have lots of company where we're going.'' She almost laughed, but smothered it so as not to call attention from the driver, who had been noticeably surprised when she'd given the Paradise Township address.
‘‘Isn't that Amish farmland?''
he'd asked, and quickly she agreed that it was, saying no more.

She closed her eyes, weary of the day, having gotten up at three that morning to shower, shampoo, and dress in order to catch the first flight out of DIA. Then there was the mad rush to the connecting gate at Chicago's O'Hare. She was glad to be this far into her travels and could hardly wait for some of Barbara Zook's home-brewed coffee!

Annie pushed a wet rag deep into the corner, back where the bed hid the floor from the doorway. After dry mopping, she had taken great care to get down on her hands and knees, making sure all stray dust bunnies beneath Yonie's bed, or anywhere else, were gone. She had also given the front porch a good strong sweeping, very glad the potted mums were still blooming due to no frost yet, a rarity. She had even done something rather ‘‘fancy'' by bringing in the pots at night, hoping to preserve their beauty for Louisa's arrival.

Just now she wondered about the time and excitedly ran downstairs to check the wall clock in the kitchen.

She asked Mamm about the apple dumplings. ‘‘Are they done yet?''

‘‘Ach, calm yourself, dear.''

One look at Mamm and she knew they were
both
wound up. The whole family was. Yonie, of course, was out deer hunting with friends over the weekend and most of next week, but Luke and Omar would be around and grinning to beat the band. Jesse Jr., Christian, and Abner and their wives and children, too, would meet Louisa after Preaching service tomorrow. No question, her pen pal's coming was a first for all of them.

‘‘I made sure Yonie's room was spotless,'' she told Mamm, hurrying to the front room to look out the window.

Her mother followed close behind. ‘‘Why don't you give me that rag?'' Mamm held out her hand. ‘‘And why not comb through your hair once? Worry less 'bout the cleanliness of the house now and be thinkin' how ya want to look yourself.''

I'm all mussed up,
she thought, recalling the only other time Mamm had ever spoken to her like that. Back when she was a little girl and not even close to being ready to leave the house for Preaching.

Now she considered tomorrow's house church meeting. How would the People react to Louisa sitting in their midst? And would her friend even want to join them?

I'll know soon. . . .

Louisa released her seat belt and stared at the Zooks' property— the old two-story barn with its picturesque windmill to her right. And the tall white farmhouse with distinctive black shutters on the other side of the road, the south-facing porch dotted with clay pots of gold- and bronze-colored mums. A lofty willow, minus its leaves, hovered near the back of the house, gracing the yard. The distinct vision she had formed in her mind since childhood had been merely a reflection of the real thing. Now, here she was.

This is Annie's world!

Nearly speechless, she jumped when the cabbie announced the fare. ‘‘Oh, sorry,'' she said, digging into her purse for a wad of cash.

When her suitcase and matching overnight case were unloaded from the trunk, she thanked the driver again. Then, hooking the two pieces of luggage together, she rolled them across the road, carrying Muffin in his pet tote up the dirt lane leading to the house.

She heard the first little squeal of glee and looked up to see Annie running toward her, arms outstretched, long skirt flying as she came. ‘‘Ach, you're here, Louisa!
Willkumm,
friend!''

Letting go of her luggage, she set down Muffin in his carrier just in time to receive the warm and welcoming hug. ‘‘It's great to see you,'' she said, feasting her eyes on her friend. ‘‘You're so pretty, Annie! You didn't do yourself justice in your descriptions through the years.''

They locked eyes on each other, and Annie said, ‘‘I'd have to say you look just like the picture you sent.''

‘‘The engagement picture or the one with my art students?''

‘‘Well, both. I'd know you anywhere.''

Before she could stop her, Annie grabbed her luggage, talking all the while. ‘‘I'm so glad you're here safely . . . flyin' on an airplane and all . . . what was that like?''

Louisa smiled at her exuberance. ‘‘Oh, it's really lots safer than driving a car, according to statistics.''

‘‘But how's it feel to go so fast?''

‘‘Surprisingly, you don't realize the speed, except for the takeoff and landing. You mainly sit in a chair, buckled in, of course, and if you're like me, you pick up a magazine and read. Some people actually sleep through the entire flight, if it's not too choppy, which it certainly can be flying out of Denver.'' She explained the updrafts and stronger currents near the mountains. ‘‘One of my friends flies a small aircraft—a four-seater—and she nearly crashed it because of the bizarre wind currents out there.''

Annie's blue eyes twinkled. ‘‘Did you say a girl flies the airplane?'' ‘‘Well, she's my age . . . a year older.''

‘‘Ach, what a life, goin' ever so fast!''

No, this is the life . . . right here,
thought Louisa as she walked with Annie, as energetic and delightful in person as she had always been in letters.

They walked through the well-landscaped side yard, around the house to the screened-in back porch.

Annie's mother met them with a winning smile, as overweight as Annie was slight. ‘‘Come in, come in, Louisa. Make yourself at home,'' Barbara Zook said, wiping her hands on her long black apron.

‘‘Thank you, Mrs. Zook. I'm so pleased to meet you at last. Annie's talked so much about you . . . well, written about you, anyway.''

That brought another cheery smile. ‘‘Oh, you mustn't call me something so formal sounding. Honestly, Barbara's just fine,'' she said. ‘‘How was your trip in?''

‘‘Uneventful . . . a good thing, thanks. It's really wonderful to be here.'' Louisa took in the unique surroundings and wondered how the large kitchen with its massive black wood stove and long table with wooden benches on either side would have looked to her today if she hadn't already visualized this house from Annie's letters. ‘‘What a beautiful place,'' she said, as if standing in the middle of a dream.

But it was Annie's demeanor, composed and demure, that struck her. She was as attractive as any of Louisa's friends. Simply remove the head covering and the long cape dress, and she could pass for a modern girl. But Annie's remarkably blue eyes grew suddenly wide as she caught a glimpse of Louisa's long earrings.

Annie is startled at the sight of me,
Louisa thought, wishing she hadn't worn either her pencil-thin jeans or her jewelry.

Chapter 13

A
nnie sure hadn't expected Louisa to be dressed the way she was. She honestly wasn't sure how she expected Louisa to look, really. She was quite sure Daed would be distressed, though, once he came in from the barn and met their English visitor.

A mite taller than Annie anticipated her to be, Louisa also looked much too skinny. Like the painfully thin catalog models in tight-fitting blue jeans and hyacinth-colored linen shirts over matching camisole tees. She knew of such descriptions and colors only from having paged through the ads at Julia's. She had no idea why the catalogs came in the mail there, since her cousin sewed all her own clothes, as well as little Molly's dresses and nightgowns. Still, it was interesting to see the different types of shoes and purses and whatnot. She'd even peeked at the fine jewelry section—rings, bracelets, and necklaces—knowing she'd probably never wear such things, but they were awful easy on the eyes.

‘‘Come, I'll show you where you'll be sleeping. Yonie's out hunting, hopin' to get his first deer this year, so you'll have his room for the time being.'' She started up the stairs, still holding the two pieces of luggage, the nicest-looking suitcase and tote she'd ever seen, and motioned for Louisa to follow her.

‘‘Hey, I'm not helpless,'' Louisa said, trying to wrestle away the suitcase while still carrying Muffin.

Annie laughed. ‘‘If you want to help so much, then you can finish washing and drying all of Mamm's dishes for tomorrow's noon meal. We'll feed about two hundred and fifty people, how's that?''

‘‘That's a bunch.''

‘‘Well, wait till you see how many attend our weddings.'' She stopped at the top of the stairs and waited for Louisa to catch up. ‘‘Ach, I'm sorry to mention that right off.''

‘‘Don't worry, Annie. I'm not super sensitive about it.''

‘‘Well . . . you know. I think we both need some pampering, jah?''

‘‘For sure.'' Louisa smiled.

‘‘By the way, breakfast comes early on Sunday mornings, 'specially when we have Preaching here.''

‘‘I'll be awake in plenty of time,'' Louisa said. ‘‘Remember, I'm a morning person . . . like you.''

‘‘But your body clock's two hours behind us here, jah?''

It was Louisa's turn to laugh. ‘‘I'll just set my Palm to go off before dawn.'' Then she seemed to remember something. ‘‘Oh, no! That won't work.''

‘‘What won't?''

Louisa shook her head. ‘‘There's no place to recharge, right?

No electricity here. Duh . . . I should know this!''

‘‘Unless you want to head down to Cousin Julia's right away. She and Irvin have electric,'' Annie said. ‘‘But, honestly, you won't have any trouble wakin' up. Our peacocks have a built-in alarm clock, trust me on that.''

She led Louisa down the hall, stopping to point out her own room. ‘‘See there? That's the desk where I write to you.''

‘‘Sweet.'' Louisa hurried into Annie's bedroom, cat carrier and all.

Annie set down the luggage and moved the desk out from the wall to show the date and initials carved into the back.

‘‘Your dad made this?''