Harvest of Hearts (4 page)

He looked down and studied his stained fingers. “Why did you come home, then, if you’re in school?”

“School lets out for the summer. All my friends were going on a medical mission trip to Mexico, but it cost a lot of money, and, well, I couldn’t exactly ask my family for donations. I earned some money toward the trip, but nowhere near enough to cover it, so I gave it to a friend who needed some.” There was a pause as she maneuvered her car around a washout in the dirt road, then picked up speed again. “I found a job for the summer in Springfield, but, you know, apartment leases require the first and last month’s rent, plus a yearlong agreement, plus a security deposit, and I couldn’t come up with all that, either. I have grants and scholarships to fund my education. Not that much extra money, you know? I had no choice.”

That explained the comment she’d made earlier about wanting to be anywhere but here, even Mexico. She’d actually wanted to go. Little else in her dialogue made sense. He had only a vague idea what grants, scholarships, or security deposits might be. “What about your job in Springfield?”

She shrugged, then made a right turn on red onto the four-lane highway that had him grabbing for the door handle. A truck whizzed by on the left, so fast that her car shook. “It was at another fast-food restaurant. If I worked there and stayed here, my paycheck wouldn’t even cover my gas. So, I quit. Hopefully, I’ll get hired on here in town.” That fast truck didn’t appear to have fazed her.

It seemed his heart had found a permanent home in his throat. He swallowed. Hard. “You didn’t stop at that red light,” he said quietly.

She glanced at him. “I totally paused. No one was in the right lane.” She clicked the turn signal, then began to merge the car into the other lane.

“Maybe I should drive on the way home. Your daed said he wanted you to come back safely.”

Laughing, she reached over. He tried to lean away, but she snatched his hat off of his head and waved it triumphantly. “Jah. Sure. Let’s see your driver’s license, Matthew Yoder.”

Shanna tucked Matthew’s hat between her and the door, and drove up to the light. It was green, but she waited for two cars and a semi to go through, then she turned left onto the road leading to McDonald’s. She maneuvered the vehicle into the parking lot. Winking at Matthew, she plopped his straw hat on her head, remembering too late the old saying that a woman who wore a man’s hat was indicating she wanted him to kiss her.

She licked her lips. Would he? Maybe on the cheek?

His eyes widened, and he shifted his gaze away from her, focusing on something out the front window. His mouth gaped a little. “Shan—”

A thud silenced him, and Shanna slammed on her brakes. Had she hit another car that was backing out? She looked ahead. Even worse. She’d rammed the left side of a buggy that’d been waiting in the drive-through lane. Her stomach roiled. What if the driver recognized her and told Daed?

She jammed the gearshift into park and hopped out of the car, noticing how the buggy listed to the side. Ugh. She’d broken a wheel. At least she hadn’t permanently destroyed the buggy or killed the horse.

The driver, a man, got out of the buggy on the far side and came around the back to meet her.

“Are you all right?” She didn’t recognize him, but she’d been out of the community for a while. People changed.

“Jah, fine. And the buggy will be, too, ain’t so? I’ll need to find a ride.” He stroked his beard as he surveyed the damage.

“We’ll take you where you need to go, Amos.” Matthew came up beside Shanna and wordlessly slid something into her hand.

She looked down. Swallowed. It was a Pennsylvania driver’s license. Valid, too, according to the date. He must have gotten it during his rumschpringe. She grimaced and handed it back to him, watching as he slid it back into his pocket.

A middle-aged woman approached them. “I called the police. They’re on their way.”

Shanna sucked in a breath. She couldn’t afford a ticket. Why hadn’t she kept her eyes on the road instead of teasing Matthew with his hat? Flirting with him, like a silly schoolgirl?

The police arrived before Shanna had mentally prepared herself. Thankfully, they came without lights and sirens. She’d attracted more than enough attention as it was. She may have left the community, but she still disliked being in the spotlight. It made her feel extremely vulnerable. And she hated that.

The police officer looked at her from beneath his wide-brimmed hat. In his left hand, he held the ticket book, along with her license and registration; in his right, a pen he must have lifted from a bank. He glanced again at the license and vehicle registration. “So, Ms. Stoltzfus.” He looked up with a smirk. “Were you paying more attention to the handsome young man next to you than to the road?”

“Yes, sir.” Shanna felt heat rising to her cheeks. She didn’t dare glance at Matthew, who stood silently, supportively, beside her. Hatless. What did he think about her confession now that she’d openly admitted she’d been flirting?

The police officer handed Shanna the ticket and her papers, then turned away, promising to send someone to transport Amos’s buggy to a blacksmith shop. “And it’s okay to move your vehicles out of the drive-through lane,” he added.

Shanna pulled in a deep breath and held it, waiting for the officer to return to his vehicle. Then, she released the air with a sob as despair washed over her in a flood. Slumping, she turned and flung herself against Matthew, tears scalding her eyes. “I can’t afford this. Why did God leave me behind when I left the Amish?” Okay, she knew better; God hadn’t left her. She was the one who attended church only sometimes, and, since leaving home, her relationship with Him had steadily gone downhill.

“He didn’t.” Matthew stood there, unmoving, for a moment. But in the next moment, his arms moved to surround her, somewhat awkwardly, as he surrendered his strong shoulder.

***

With one hand, Matthew tugged his hat free from Shanna’s grasp and set it on top of his head. Then, he pulled her tighter against his chest and allowed himself to enjoy holding her. It was likely to be the only chance he’d ever get.

He took half a step back and freed his arm again to smooth her hair away from her face. Then, he took a fortifying breath. He’d make sure this was the only time he held her. Especially in light of her admission to flirting. With him. After all, a relationship between them wouldn’t be happening.

He sucked in another breath, hoping she didn’t notice his unsteadiness or hear his pulse pounding in his chest.

He didn’t know how long he’d stood there, holding her. But all too soon, she pulled away, squared her shoulders, and wiped her eyes. “I’ll be okay.”

Jah. Of course, she would be. He was more worried about himself.

He watched as she marched over to her car, ducked inside, and backed it away from the buggy, whipping it into a vacant spot. Maybe his concern stemmed more from the thought of riding in a car with her behind the wheel again than how she affected him.

How had she ever managed to drive around Springfield without wrecking her car and taking her life—or someone else’s? He cringed, remembering the traffic he’d seen when he’d gone through that city, and glanced at her car, now safely parked in between the yellow lines, with a black pickup truck on one side, a red one on the other.

Well, there were some dings on her car. Several, actually. Small dents. Apparently, she hadn’t kept it completely scar free.

She stepped out of the car and came toward him. “I need to use the facilities,” she said simply before turning and darting in the side door. Through the window, he watched her make a beeline toward the back of the building, where the restrooms were.

Matthew turned and sauntered over to where Amos Kropf waited with his broken buggy and his horse.

“Never thought you’d take up with an Englisch girl.” Amos nodded toward the building.

Matthew shook his head. “Levi Stoltzfus’s daughter. I just met her. Today.”

Had it been just this morning? So much had happened since then. And it seemed like he’d known her forever. His heart had recognized her.

“You have to watch those Amish girls who veer so far from home during their rumschpringe. Some of them never return.”

“I know.” Ironic that he was being warned about a girl he barely knew. One he found much too fascinating.

“I was going through the drive-through to get my lunch. Working on a construction site on Garfield Street.” Amos frowned. “Guess I’ll go in and get it now. I’ll catch a ride home later, so I won’t need a ride from her.” He gave an exaggerated shudder and looped the reins around a fence post. “Danki for offering.”

Matthew nodded. For a moment, he wondered if maybe he shouldn’t look for another ride home for himself. But then he shook his head. Shanna had gotten him there safely. Well, in a manner of speaking. She’d get him home. And, thinking of her…. He should probably go inside and check on her. It shouldn’t take her this long to wash her face. He followed Amos to the building and entered after him. Immediately, he noticed Shanna leaning over the counter, talking with a man. Her shirt, untucked, revealed an inch or so of skin. He looked away, embarrassed.

The man gestured off to the side, and, in the next moment, Shanna pushed through a half door and disappeared into the recesses of the building.

Amos had taken a place in line, so Matthew turned around and looked for a seat. Almost all the tables and booths were occupied, some with only one person, but most with three or four people. He turned to face the counter and leaned against a support post to wait for Shanna.

The crowd thinned, and one of the women behind the counter looked at him. “May I help you?”

He shook his head. “Just waiting.” Then, he frowned and stepped forward. “Uh, maybe, yes. Two Frappés.”

“Excuse me?” The woman’s eyes narrowed.

Matthew looked above her head and skimmed the menu. “Uh, two Frappés. One caramel, and one, uh…actually, both caramel.” He didn’t know what kind Shanna would want. He didn’t even know if he liked them, never having tried one. The cappuccino he’d had once had been good. A bit sweet for his taste, but good. But she had mentioned a Frappé. It was the least he could do.

When the drinks were ready, Matthew took one in each hand—he hadn’t expected them to be a type of iced coffee—picked up a couple of straws, turned around, and saw a booth that had emptied. He sat down and picked up an abandoned section of the Springfield daily newspaper. Sports. He scanned the headlines. Seeing nothing of interest, he set the paper down again, stuck one straw into one of the cups, and took a sip. Was this drink made out of pure whipped cream? It was way sweeter than cappuccino.

A few minutes later, Shanna came over to the table, carrying two clear cups identical to the ones he’d purchased. She glanced at the cups on the table and laughed. “Are you ready to go? I have shopping to do, and they want me back to work for the supper shift tonight.”

Matthew blinked at her. “You got hired?” Levi wouldn’t be pleased. But Matthew doubted he’d say anything to Shanna.

“Why did you think I wanted to come here? For the koffee I promised you? I needed a job. Thought I told you that.” She turned away. “I have the uniform already, so we’re all set.”

Matthew grabbed the two iced coffees from the table and followed her to the door.

Someone had loaded the broken buggy onto the back of a trailer and was securing it. Amos stood off to the side, holding his horse. Looked like the animal had been taken care of.

“Want me to drive?” They’d had enough hits and near misses today for his taste. He put both of the cups on the hood of her car.

After a moment’s hesitation, she set down one of the cups, reached into her pocket, and handed him the keys.

He hadn’t expected her to let him.

***

Matthew pocketed the keys, then looked down at the two coffee cups. “I suppose I should offer one of these to Amos. We don’t need four of them.”

“I can take it over,” Shanna said. “I should offer to pay for the transport and repairs of his buggy, anyway. It was my fault.”

Matthew shook his head. “Nein, I’ll offer. You aren’t Amish.”

Shanna dipped her head. She’d forgotten the rules about taking things from the hands of Englischers. “I’ll pay you back, then, if you’ll let me.”