A Plain Man (30 page)

“There's that many every day. But it's the countryside that's amazing—open land, rolling fields, beautiful farms. This is where I plan to live someday.”

Sarah cocked her head to one side. “Everyone takes the beauty in our own backyards for granted, or in your case, the view from your balcony.”

“I suppose you're right. The grass is always greener.” Jason offered a shy smile.

Inside the barn, the teenager's mouth dropped open. “They are so much bigger in real life than on TV. Are these as big as the Budweiser draft horses?”

“Haflingers aren't even close to a Clydesdale.” Sarah nudged him forward the same way his mother had. “Don't worry. Bo and Princess are gentle as lambs. Just hold the apple flat in your palm.” She demonstrated with one piece of fruit.

Jason took an apple and stepped to the stall wall. Princess slurped it from his palm with her long pink tongue.

“Wow!” he murmured with reverential awe.

“What about Bo? We must feed both and not play favorites. Horses can be as jealous as little kids.”

Jason extended his hand to the second Haflinger. Bo took the apple with a friendly toss of his mane. When all four apples were gone, he backed away from the stall. “Thanks, Sarah. This has been the best part of Amish country.”

“You're welcome. The next time you and your parents stay here my brother will take you for a ride through our pasture.”

“He could teach me to ride?” Astonished, Jason arched up on tiptoes.

“If you give Caleb thirty minutes, he'll have you trotting and galloping like a cowboy.”

“I can't wait.” He hooked his thumbs into his pockets as though getting into mode.

“Me too, but right now I must serve breakfast.”, Sarah turned on her heel and sprinted back to the house. Jason stayed behind her until they slipped through the back door.

In the kitchen Mrs. Pratt frowned while scraping off a layer of blackened cheese. “Sarah, I asked you not to let our breakfast burn. Now we'll have to melt more cheddar and hope the burnt taste hasn't permeated the entire casserole.” Her gaze flickered over Jason as he slinked through the room to rejoin his family and then landed squarely on Sarah. “Please serve the biscuits and fruit compotes. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes, ma'am. I'm so sorry.” Sarah washed her hands and carried the tray to the dining room. Her fingers shook as she placed a parfait at each place setting. On her way back to the kitchen, she passed Rebekah with a fresh carafe of coffee. “I asked you to watch the casserole,” Sarah hissed through gritted teeth.

“I did, for a while. Who knew you and that
Englisch
man would be gone so long?” Rebekah wrinkled her nose like a rabbit. “Looks like you're not the perfect employee after all.”

“Man?”

But Sarah had no time to argue. They had to serve breakfast and deliver whatever the guests needed. Blessedly, no one complained about the retouched casserole which Lee Ann served a few minutes later. Jason's family left immediately after breakfast. The other guests
soon packed up and headed to the furniture stores, farmer's markets, and cheese houses of Mount Hope or Kidron. Once the inn emptied of tourists, the sisters stripped beds and cleaned rooms without exchanging a single word of dialogue. Not until all chores were finished, a little after noon, did Sarah explain to Mrs. Pratt about Jason's lifelong passion for horses.

The innkeeper peered up from her ledger. “I appreciate that you took an interest in our guest, particularly one with such...overbearing parents. But I can't fathom why you didn't pull out the casserole and leave it on a trivet to cool.”

Sarah kneaded her hands behind her back. “I don't know why that never occurred to me. I'm sorry.”

“I'll see you tomorrow, dear,” she said in frosty tone and returned to her ledger.

On the way home, Sarah attempted to discuss her grievances with Rebekah in a calm manner, as
Daed
had suggested.

Her sister refused to concede her point. “Mrs. Pratt put you in charge of the casserole. You should have taken it out before you left, or given me explicit instructions such as ‘remove it from the oven in eight minutes.' But you didn't, so don't blame me because you messed up. Besides, you had no business running off with that boy when we had work to do, especially since you're pledged to Adam Troyer.” Rebekah picked up her skirt and ran the rest of the way home.

Sarah chose not to chase after her or broach the subject again later. Sometimes she was just on a different page—or an entirely different chapter—from her sibling.

14

Let Thy goodness, like a fetter,

Bind my wandering heart to Thee.

S
aturday was a day off from the Sidleys, but Caleb still had plenty to do. Chores around the farm needed attention, so he rose early to muck stalls, cut the grass, and fix his mother's broken clothesline.
Daed
's head would be buried in Scripture for hours to prepare for tomorrow's preaching service. With weekends busy at the inn until December, his sisters would be gone until one o'clock. When they walked through the kitchen door, they would join
Mamm'
s canning frenzy.

No rest for the wicked during the month of August.

Lately, Caleb hadn't felt quite so wicked as he usually did. They were making good progress on Albert's home. His brother Tobias had joined their small crew two weeks ago. Now Tobias talked eagerly about which room they would tackle next. The roof proved to be a major undertaking. First, they removed the rotted shingles and colorful patches, along with every bit of the old masonry chimney. Due to the unsafe nature of the project, they ripped off the entire roof at once instead of section by section. Yet God provided five consecutive rainless nights. A full moon and bright stars shone into the attic where Elijah temporarily made his bed.

Dad assigned his full crew to the Sidleys because they were in between projects. He'd planned to pay them full wages but once the men arrived, they insisted on donating their time. Bob brought over plywood from his barn to replace the underlayment, while Eli purchased felt and shingles out of profits from the Ashland law offices. Albert never realized
no one
would have enough leftovers to reshingle
an entire house, and John Sidley didn't care where the materials came from. Usually the eldest Sidley, sprawled on the couch or in his recliner, kept his eyes closed to the transformation taking place around him. Caleb had come to terms with the man. He stayed as far away as possible, but paid him appropriate respect whenever their paths crossed.

After the roof was done, a heating contractor installed new flue stacks for the wood-burning stoves in the kitchen and front room. Vents cut in the floors would allow heat to rise to the second story bedrooms, keeping them sufficiently warm in winter. The
Englisch
contractor, who knew Eli from previous projects, provided a friends-and-family discounted price. His father paid the bill without letting Caleb see it. Eli had yet to confront John Sidley, but he inquired every day as to what supplies were needed or how his crew could help. District involvement would come later, after order had been restored to the farm. And memories of buckshot flying through the air faded away.

Once Caleb finished his farm chores, he hitched up his buggy for a trip to Shreve. It was a nice day to go to town. All around him, fields were filled with corn, wheat, and soybeans ready for harvest. Roadside stands along every road offered sweet corn and every variety of vegetables. Although he loved carpentry, nothing gave a man satisfaction like producing food for his fellow man. Wherever he and Josie lived, they must have a huge garden plot.

Josie.
Could even a single idea come to mind without him fixating on that raven-haired girl? He hated to think about her being courted by someone else. Lately, he was losing the battle against jealousy, envy, and covetousness.

In Shreve, Caleb parked close to the hardware store and walked the distance, nodding at passersby on the sidewalk. The Sidleys needed inexpensive but sturdy plumbing fixtures. Caleb planned a new bathroom for the house with a fiberglass shower enclosure, standup pedestal sink, and a water-saving commode. They had already hauled everything from the old bathroom to the landfill. Albert and his brothers would use the outhouse and a garden hose rigged over a tree limb to take showers. At least it was August and not January...and the Sidleys had no neighbors for miles.

Caleb selected bathroom fixtures and plumbing supplies from in-stock inventory and a full color catalog. His father insisted that he charge the Beachy account because even Bob didn't have free-standing sinks in his cornucopia of supplies. After loading all he could carry into his buggy, Caleb arranged delivery of the heavier pieces to Albert's farm. With the anticipated shipment date in his pocket, Caleb climbed into his buggy with a feeling of accomplishment. Albert and his brothers were just weeks away from their first hot shower. Then an odd sight across the street caught his attention—Josie's small Morgan and her open buggy.

Caleb stared, momentarily befuddled. Had Josie mentioned a trip to town the last time they had talked? He was certain she hadn't—otherwise they could have ridden to Shreve together. After all, he tried to squeeze in every opportunity to be with her, since long days at Albert's left little time for visiting. While Caleb stared, unsure what to do, a fancy Dodge truck pulled into the parking stop nearest the hitching post, and a young, blond-haired man climbed out. The
Englischer
didn't gaze left or right but headed straight for the Yoder rig.

Caleb reset the brake and leaned forward for a better view. When the man reached the buggy's door, he swept off his ball cap and offered a phony smile. He was apparently talking to someone in a buggy Caleb thought had been empty. Then to Caleb's utter amazement, Josie stepped down and paused on the lowest step to chat eye to eye. Or in her case, laugh and flutter her eyelashes.

Caleb's blood pressure ratcheted up a dozen points while his shirt collar contracted around his throat. Beads of sweat formed on his upper lip and forehead, which had nothing to do with August humidity. For several minutes, the love of his life
flirted
on the sidewalk of the Shreve coffee shop.

How had Josie met this man? She didn't work outside the farm and thus seldom dealt with
Englischers.
Could he be one of the men she had courted in the past—an old flame who jumped the fence? Grinding down on his back teeth, Caleb opened his buggy door. But before he could get out, the blond
Englischer
and Josie strolled into the diner.
Just like business as usual.
Caleb's mouth gaped wide enough to catch
flies. Were they on a date—a prearranged meeting in public where anyone could see them? Caleb swabbed his face with his hanky and closed his eyes. He needed a course of action before he did something stupid.

Should he storm the restaurant and drag Josie out by the arm or maybe her
kapp
ribbons?

Should he demand to know what this
Englischer
was doing with
his
girl?

Or perhaps he could opt for the subtle approach—wander in, peruse a menu, then casually spot the pair.
Say, Josie, I don't believe I've had the pleasure of meeting your secret admirer...

Without a clear plan in mind, Caleb simply waited in his buggy. He wanted to see how long the rendezvous would last, and if it would conclude with a warm embrace or passionate kiss.

Caleb sat for thirty-eight minutes while his personal green-eyed monster reared its ugly head. When Josie and the man finally exited the shop, they paused at her buggy to chat and smile some more. Then they shook hands as though priming a well.

Caleb swallowed the bitter taste in his mouth. At least Josie didn't cry when the young man climbed into his four-wheel drive pickup. She glanced at traffic in both directions and slowly backed her buggy away from the post. Caleb debated his next move. No one had noticed him across the street, three storefronts down. Should he follow the truck and demand satisfaction at dawn with dueling pistols? But he wouldn't be able to follow the vehicle with his horse and buggy. So when Josie left town in the opposite direction as the Dodge, Caleb trailed her instead.

Staying well behind her rig, Caleb searched his brain for a logical way to broach the subject. How could he determine the nature of their relationship without sounding jealous and insecure—exactly what he was? He was so busy weighing various scenarios he missed the turn for his road. But at least now he could make sure Josie arrived home safely.

However, Miss Yoder had a few more surprises up her sleeve. As Caleb rounded the curve, Josie stepped into the middle of the pavement, letting her mare nibble grass along the driveway. Her arms were crossed, her chin was lifted, and Josie was not smiling. Caleb realized his surveillance hadn't been anywhere near as clandestine as he thought.