A Plain Man (29 page)

“
Mamm,
do you think I'm lazy?”

With her concentration focused on sorting clothes, Margaret Yoder took a moment to glance up. “What?”

“Am I lazy? Or do I give people the impression I don't do my fair share of work?” Josie stuffed dark trousers and shirts into the washing machine.

“You've never heard me complain once about you. What's this about,
dochder
?”

“Yesterday when I went for a ride with Caleb, he asked me plenty of peculiar questions.” Josie reached for another shirt in an effort to evade her mother's eye.

“What do you mean,
peculiar
? If you want my opinion, you'll have to be more specific.”

“He asked me if I ever worked at a real job. Maybe he's afraid of getting saddled with a lazy wife. The only job I ever held was for Mrs. Wilson, watching her
boppli
when she went back to work. Caleb sounded surprised I never clerked in a store or waited on people at the buffet restaurant.”

“Most Old Order gals stay home if their families don't need extra income. There's plenty for women to do around a farm. Your job is to learn to cook and clean and can garden produce, not refill glasses of iced tea in some tourist trap.” Margaret punctuated her opinion of girls working the tourist industry with a click of her tongue. “However, you don't seem to have mastered laundry. That basket of wet clothes sits while you stare into space.”

Picking up the basket, Josie followed her
mamm
out to the clothesline. “In the city, he probably knew women who managed their households and held down full-time careers.”

“
Englisch
women don't usually cook and bake from scratch. Plus their canned food comes from the grocery store. Is that what Caleb asked—how busy you stay during the day?” Frowning, Margaret crossed her arms over her ample chest.

“
Jah,
and he asked what I've done during
rumschpringe
thus far. I had little to tell him.” Josie picked up one of her father's shirts and pinned it to the line.

Mamm
hung a row of dark socks in quick succession. “He probably wanted to make sure you saw and did what you needed to before becoming a wife and mother. You're reading too much into his questions,
dochder
.” Margaret pinned the rest of the shirts to the line and started across the lawn with the empty basket balanced on one hip.

Josie hurried after her. “He also asked who I courted while he was living in Cleveland.”

That stopped her
mamm
in her tracks. “He's got no cause to be questioning you. You're not the one who ran off with a wild group of
Englischers.
”

“I don't think his carpenter friends were exactly wild.”

“Nevertheless.” She dragged out the word for emphasis. “Caleb had better not cast any accusations on a Yoder girl. Or I'll march over to the Beachys with my porch broom.”

Josie dropped their topic of conversation, but couldn't stop thoughts of Caleb quite so easily. As soon as they finished with laundry, she slipped on her sneakers and headed down the path for a heart-to-heart with her best friend.

Sarah usually arrived home from Country Pleasures around lunchtime, except for spring or fall cleaning days. With perfect timing, Josie spotted Sarah and Rebekah on the lane from the inn to their house. They were smiling while they chatted—a good sign Rebekah wasn't in her normal crusty mood.

Josie hid behind a tree until the sisters walked by and then she jumped out to startle them. “Hi, girls!” she said.

Once her feet landed on gravel, Sarah turned on her. “Will you still pull that old childhood prank when we're gray-haired old grannies?”

“Most likely if I can still get behind a tree with my cane.”

“Josie, you have a wicked sense of humor.” Rebekah shook her index finger and ran the rest of the way home. The two friends were left in her dust.

“Worked like a charm, once again.” Sarah flashed a toothy smile.

“I had something to discuss that required privacy and your undivided attention.”

“Ah, sounds like you seek knowledge from someone older and wiser than you.” Sarah swung her tote bag like a schoolgirl.

“You're only four months older and even the wiser part is debatable. But I do need your advice in the romance department. You have been courting Adam for ages now. That should make you an expert.” As they rounded a curve the Beachy house loomed into view.

“You're starting to sound like him,” Sarah cautioned, “but I'll do my best. Go wait by the tire swing in the orchard. I want to wash off the dust and grab us a couple Cokes.”

Josie's optimism rose a notch. If anybody knew Caleb it would be his sister. Hadn't Sarah tracked him down in Cleveland with nothing more than an old mailing address? She sought reasons for his leaving the Amish church and their family when he was nineteen. Sarah must have found answers, because she not only returned promptly, but Caleb came home soon after.

With her feet dangling in the air, Josie waited in the sunshine and cool breeze. “I thought you'd forgotten me,” she called the moment she spotted Sarah.

“Relax.” Sarah handed her a cool drink. “What's got you stymied on a Monday? Some horrible laundry stain refuses to budge from your favorite dress?” With a push of the tire, Sarah sent her soaring.

Josie dragged her feet through the dirt. “It's your
bruder.
He's been asking odd questions and doesn't seem excited about planning our future.”

Sarah rolled her eyes. “Oh, dear, man-type questions. Purple juice stains on white linen would be much easier to tackle. But I'll try my best.”

“Cal has been asking about my past beaus. That has me worried.”

“You have so few past beaus, why should it concern you?” Sarah shoved the tire a second time.

Josie jumped off the swing and faced Sarah eye to eye...or as close as possible when one person stood five-ten and the other was barely five feet. “I suspect he has plenty of history he wants to share, but doesn't know how to broach the subject.”

“I believe your suspicion is correct.” Sarah held the frosty soda bottle to her cheek.

Josie waited for additional comments to no avail. “Caleb showed me the ugly tattoo he can't get rid of.”

Sarah's brown eyes turned round as saucers. “He rolled up his sleeve?”

“
Jah
, it seemed important I discover his stupid mistake now, in case it made a difference regarding our future.”

“And does it?” Her eyes narrowed into slits.

“It does not. I love your brother. People make mistakes—nobody is perfect.”

Whistling through her teeth, Sarah plopped into the empty swing. “I'm glad to hear that. I had my heart set on you for a sister-in-law.”

“Me too, but Caleb thinks I should know about every
Englischer
he dated. Whatever happened in the city made him so suspicious about
my
running-around years.”

Sarah shook her head from side to side. “That's something you should ask him. I don't want to get in the middle of problems or cause any new ones.”

“You don't understand. I'm not interested in who he dated or what he did on
rumschpringe.
We're taking classes to prepare for baptism. Soon our sins will be washed away; our lives will begin anew. We start with a clean slate after we're baptized.”

Sarah abandoned the swing and wrapped an arm around Josie's waist. “That's what you should tell him—you want to leave the past exactly where it's buried.”

“If I say that will Caleb relax and stop fretting so much?”

“
Jah
, I'm sure everything will be fine.”

Josie saw the truth instantly in Sarah's eyes, even though her words said something altogether different.

Sarah loved to let herself in the back door of the inn while the guests slept and Mrs. Pratt was still in the shower. The house was peaceful yet somehow filled with the anticipation. People on vacation or getaway weekends were universally in good moods. That was why she enjoyed cooking and serving breakfast here. Not only was the work easy in a beautiful house, but everyone was so nice. Besides, Mrs. Pratt gave her plenty of delicious recipes she never would have learned from
Mamm.
Not that her future husband would expect fancy casseroles or layered fruit and cream parfaits each morning. Adam was a simple man in their Plain culture. A bowl of oatmeal and a glass of milk, a sandwich with a shiny apple, and meat loaf with green beans and boiled potatoes could satisfy his daily requirements for the rest of his life.

Sarah washed, slipped on a white apron, and started the huge coffee-maker. Early risers would soon venture from their rooms seeking a cup of coffee before their showers. Mrs. Pratt had left a brief to-do list on the counter before going to bed, but she entered the kitchen before Sarah had a chance to read it.

“Good morning, Sarah! You're exceptionally bright-eyed and bushy-tailed today.” The innkeeper wore a smile that could melt the iciest heart. She pulled on a full-length Country Pleasures apron and took a basket of brown eggs from the refrigerator. “Is Rebekah still dawdling on the lane?”

“She couldn't wait to give Bo and Princess treats she brought from home.” As Sarah spoke, Rebekah walked through the door.

“Am I late, Mrs. Pratt? Sorry.” Rebekah headed straight to the sink.

“Not at all, we're just getting started. Today let's have fresh fruit cups, cheddar biscuits, and a sausage, egg, and cheese casserole. Rebekah, please start browning the sausage and a little chopped onion. Sarah, you wash and slice the berries and other fruit. Everything is where you expect it to be. I'll mix and roll my biscuit dough.” Lee Ann Pratt flew
around the kitchen issuing orders like a drill sergeant, even though their routine seldom varied. Sarah's parfaits were artistic creations while Mrs. Pratt loved to bake. That left bacon or sausage frying to the person with the least seniority—Rebekah. Lee Ann turned the radio to soft music and they went to work.

Within the hour, delicious aromas filled the inn. The guests milled around the great room, chatting amiably and sipping coffee while they waited to be called to eat.

“Sarah, the casserole needs about ten or fifteen minutes,” said Mrs. Pratt. “I want to show my Michigan guests the front garden. Don't let that top layer of cheese get too brown.” She hurried from the kitchen as the door swung closed behind her.

“What am I supposed to do?” asked Rebekah, peevish.

“Make sure the table has been set correctly and fill the goblets with ice water. This isn't your first day on the job, sister.” Sarah concentrated on adding a whipped cream curl to the top of each parfait. Just as she finished, she heard a timid knock behind her.

A well-dressed
Englischer
and her son appeared in the doorway. The boy was around fifteen with thick glasses and shaggy hair. “May we interrupt you a moment, miss?” The woman talked with an unusual voice. “My son, Jason, wants to ask you something.”

Sarah wiped her palms down her apron and turned to greet them. “No interruption whatsoever. What can I help you with?”

The woman nudged her son, who turned a bright shade of pink under double female perusal.

Clearing his throat, the boy dug his hands into his jean pockets. “We live in a condo in Lakewood so I've never seen a horse up close. I heard Mrs. Pratt mention she owns a pair of Haflingers. Could you take me to see them?” He sounded indifferent but his soulful eyes revealed something else.

“Of course I can, right after breakfast.” She smiled, hoping to put the shy boy at ease.

Jason rolled his eyes toward the ceiling. “My dad wants to leave as soon as we eat. He's in a big hurry to get back. I'm afraid it's now or never.”

The dire finality in his last words broke her heart. “In that case, now it is.” Sarah grabbed several apples from the bowl on the counter just as her sister entered the kitchen. “Watch the casserole, Rebekah. Don't let the cheese get too crisp.”

“Where are you going? It's almost time to serve.” Rebekah set down her pitcher of ice water, her peevishness reaching a new high.

“Jason and I are going to the barn. We'll be right back.” Sarah yanked her apron over her head. “Follow me,” she said to the boy with a wave of her hand. Without another word they ran out the door as the
Englisch
woman wandered back to the great room.

Sarah slowed her pace once they reached the flagstone path. “Can you see Lake Erie from your condo?”

The question took Jason by surprise. “Sure, we can almost see Canada from our balcony. We live on the top floor.”

“That's amazing. When I visited my brother last year, we walked the beach at Edgewater Park. There must have been five hundred seagulls that day.”