Katie's Way (26 page)

“I know.” She couldn't either, but the evidence was running up her arm. She wiped away the rivulet of red before it could reach her sleeve. “It is such a mess.” Somehow it eased the tightness in her chest to talk to one person, at least, who shared her feelings.

“Vandals. I don't know what the world is coming to.” Cliff began rolling up his sleeves. “Do you have another sponge?”

For a moment she was too startled to speak. “Ach, I can't take you away from your shop to help me.”

“Nonsense.” He reached a hand out for the sponge. “You would do the same for me, I'm sure.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat and handed him the sponge.

Moments later, Bishop Mose came striding down the sidewalk, his white beard ruffling so that it looked as agitated as his expression.

“Katie, what a thing to happen. I came as soon as I heard. Others will be here to help, but I see that Cliff has beaten all of us.”

Mr. Wainwright saluted him with a dripping sponge, apparently on good terms with the bishop. “I'm closer, so I got here faster.”

“I will catch up with you soon.” Bishop Mose leaned over to study the paint. “We need some more scrapers, ain't so? Caleb will have some. I'll get him.”

But before Katie could speak, before the bishop could move, the shop door opened. Caleb came out, holding a pail of soapy water and several scrapers.

“These scrapers will work better on the dried stuff,” he said.

Katie wasn't sure who he was talking to—not her, since he didn't look at her. Perhaps she was being unfair to think he hadn't come out until the bishop's presence made it impossible not to.

“Gut, gut, chust what we need.” Bishop Mose grabbed a scraper and set to work, red flecks flying.

“Bishop Mose, you don't need to do that.” Katie felt whatever control she'd had over the situation slipping from her grasp. “I should . . .”

The bishop made a clucking sound, reproving her. “I set an example for my people of what they should do. And you show your humility by letting others help you, ain't so?”

She could hardly argue with the bishop. “Ja,” she murmured. “That is so.” She glanced at Rhoda. To her relief, the girl seemed to be getting over her shock quickly. She worked amicably enough, it seemed, next to Mr. Wainwright.

“I brought some extra buckets.” Lisa Macklin hurried up the walk, buckets clanging in her hands. “Just show me where to fill them.”

Humility, Katie reminded herself. Gelassenheit. It would not be showing that most Amish of qualities to argue with each person who wanted to help. “This way.”

By the time Katie and Lisa came back out, the buckets filled with soapy water, several more people had arrived to work, and Paula Schatz was setting up a coffee urn and trays of donuts.

“Paula will have everyone in town out here when they smell her donuts,” Cliff Wainwright joked.

“And so they should be,” Paula retorted. “Mennonite, Amish, or Englisch, something like this hurts all of us.” She leaned closer to Bishop Mose, lowering her voice. “Chief Walker is coming. He was having his morning coffee when we heard.”

Katie was sure her dismay showed on her face. Bad enough that everyone in town knew . . . she didn't want to be involved with the law. And judging by the stiffness of his back, Caleb Brand had found a new reason to disapprove of her.

“It is all right.” Bishop Mose seemed to understand her thoughts. “The chief is bound to ask questions about such vandalism. Just give him honest answers. No one can blame you for what someone else has done.”

Before she could digest that, Chief Walker arrived. She'd seen him around town, of course, but had never spoken to him. To her eyes the stocky man in a uniform had the same lines of wisdom and authority in his face as Bishop Mose. And the two of them greeted each other as equals.

“Nasty thing to happen, Ms. Miller.” Chief Walker shook his head. “There's been a rash of vandalism this spring, but none right in town before this. Kids, most likely, but that doesn't mean they can get away with breaking the law.”

Discovering she had nothing to say to his words, Katie waited, hands clasped, trying for calm.

“You and your sister live over the shop, I understand.” The chief nodded toward the second floor. “Any chance you heard anything?”

She shook her head. “I did not.” She glanced at her sister. “Rhoda?”

“I didn't hear anything, either.” Rhoda came to stand next to her. “Our bedrooms are at the back.”

The chief nodded. “Natural enough. You were probably sound asleep, and they'd be careful not to make too much noise.” He glanced from one to another of her neighbors. “Anybody else hear anything or notice anything odd last night?”

Silence for a moment. “Probably the same kids who painted bad words on John Mast's barn,” Paula volunteered. “That was red paint, too.”

“Bad words.” Cliff snorted a bit. “So illiterate they couldn't spell anything with more than four letters.”

“They're getting brave, bringing their antics right into town. That'll just make it easier to catch up with them.” Chief Walker brought his gaze back to Katie's face. “But we don't want to jump to conclusions. Can you think of anyone who had reason to pull a trick like this on you, Ms. Miller?”

Just say the truth, the bishop had reminded her. “No. I can't.”

“Well, don't worry about it too much.” Chief Walker became suddenly more human with his smile. “Between us, Bishop Mose and I have a pretty good idea of who's behind any trouble like this that comes up. I'm the first to admit that if it's Amish kids, he can deal with them better than I can.”

“Ja, that's so,” Bishop Mose said.

“And if it's English . . . well, I'll catch up with them, and they'll be doing worse than scraping off paint for their punishment, believe me.” Chief Walker strolled off, stopping to speak to a few other people as he went.

Katie looked at Bishop Mose. “I don't want to cause trouble for anyone.”

“Ach, I know that fine. But Chief Walker was right. If they are Amish, I will find out.” He patted her hand. “It would be worse for them to get away with their wrongdoing, you see. Komm, we have cleaning up to finish. Soon the shop will look as gut as new, ain't so?”

She nodded, trying not to feel that it would take her a long time to forget, even when the paint was gone. She must try to look at this vandalism in a different way, although that seemed impossible right now.

Caleb was here helping, cleaning paint from the windowpane with even strokes of the scraper. Whatever else he felt about her and Rhoda right now, he was being a good neighbor.

And the rest of these people, some of whom she hardly knew by name—they were good neighbors, too. Amish, Englisch, Mennonite, they were her community. Whatever happened, she belonged here.

 

 

Caleb
came out of his bedroom door at the grossdaadi haus just as his mamm emerged from hers. He bent to kiss her. “Ready for breakfast?”

She nodded, patting his cheek. “I will tell you a secret.” She leaned a little closer, smiling. “Sometimes I would like to have breakfast all by myself in my own little kitchen.”

“If that is what you want, why don't you?”

He touched her elbow as they went down the steps, not sure she needed it, but concerned. She'd seemed so fragile this past year.

But she went down easily, with none of the hesitation that sometimes worried him.

“Men,” she said scornfully. “You never see what's right in front of your noses. I can't do that, because it would certain-sure hurt Nancy's feelings.”

He turned that over in his mind. “Men don't notice things like that because we would never think in that way. We would just say what we want.”

“And then wonder why someone was frosty to you,” Mamm said. “Ach, it's nothing. Komm, we don't want to keep them waiting.”

He followed, puzzling over her words. He had never considered how Mamm felt about the way things were. He had taken it for granted that she enjoyed having Nancy assume all the chores that used to be hers.

Well, it was certain-sure he didn't understand women. One particular woman, to be exact.

Katie had behaved bravely in the face of yesterday's trouble. She was a strong woman who would deal with what came her way. As for him ... he'd been torn between wanting to blame Katie herself for all the problems that had risen since she'd arrived and wanting to put his arms around her and protect her from any storm.

He couldn't. Not with Becky wandering around the house like a forlorn ghost, reminding him that he might have been able to prevent her pain if he'd kept her away from Rhoda to begin with.

He entered the kitchen, where Nancy was marshalling her family around the table, the wooden spoon she used to stir the oatmeal in her hand.

“Komm, Becky, wake up,” she said, her tone a bit sharp. “Can't you see your daad is ready for his coffee? Onkel Caleb, too, most likely.”

Becky, pale and drooping, filled coffee cups, and they sat down to the silent prayer that began the meal.

Like any morning, the boys squabbled among themselves over who had the most brown sugar on his oatmeal and Nancy dispensed justice with a firm hand. Andy ate quickly, talking to Caleb about whether the fine weather would hold long enough to get the rest of the first hay cutting in. Naomi ate quietly, not seeming to pay attention to what was going on, and Becky did the same, eyes downcast.

“So, Caleb,” Nancy said once she had her family sorted, “we never did hear from you about what happened at that Miller woman's shop yesterday. Ann Schultz told me that someone told her that the windows were broken and red paint splashed all over the quilts for sale.”

“Ann Schultz doesn't know what she's talking about if she told you that. No windows were broken, just some paint splashed on the glass.” He couldn't help it if he sounded annoyed, what with Nancy seeming to wish the affair had been worse than it was.

“Well, whatever happened, all I can say is that it was probably well deserved if the truth were known.”

Everyone at the table stared at Nancy. But before any of the adults could react, Becky was on her feet, cheeks flaming. “That is a terrible thing to say. How could you? Katie Miller has been as nice as can be to me. She doesn't deserve anything bad, and I wish I had been there to help her.”

Caleb had been surprised by the ill will that Nancy had shown, but he was downright astonished at Becky for standing up to her mamm that way. She had never been so lippy in her life, and Nancy stared at her daughter, apparently speechless, her face flushed.

“Enough.” Andy's voice was even, but Caleb knew the sound of his brother pushed to the end of his rope. “Becky, you will apologize to your mamm for speaking that way to her.”

Becky, tears spilling over, sniffled. “I'm sorry, Mammi.”

“And Nancy, I am ashamed of you, to speak the way you did about a sister. You should be on your knees asking forgiveness for such unkindness.”

Nancy, cheeks flaming, sank back into her chair. The boys stared into their cereal bowls. Caleb and Naomi glanced at each other and turned wordlessly to their breakfasts. Andy seldom spoke that way to his family, but when he did, there was no doubt that they listened.

It was an awkward meal. Caleb was glad to escape as quickly as possible. He headed out to the barn.

Most of the time he liked living in the house where he'd been born, with family all around him. But once in a while he almost envied Katie her snug little apartment with only her sister for company.

He had begun harnessing the gelding when he realized his mother had followed him to the barn. “Mamm?” He looked at her questioningly. “Is something wrong?”

“I just wanted to be sure you're helping Katie with the repairs.”

“I helped with the cleanup yesterday, for sure. Lots of folks did.” Now, what exactly was in Mamm's mind?

“Ja, I know. But does everything look just like new? That will be important to her, not just getting it cleaned up. As long as there is any sign of what happened, she will be reminded.”

Mamm again had more insight than he did. “I will check and see. If the frame needs to be repaired or repainted, I will do that.”

“Gut.” She patted his shoulder, smiling a little. “I did not enjoy that fuss at the breakfast table, but I was glad to see Becky standing up for Katie.”

“Our Becky is growing up,” he said, not sure what his mother was driving at.

“Ja. And I think she is feeling a bit guilty for judging her friend without giving her a chance to defend herself. You should not do that either, ain't so?”

“I try not to,” he said, stung. “But ever since Katie moved in next to me, things have changed.”

Mamm nodded, agreeing. “Changed, ja. And the biggest change is in you.”

“I don't know what you mean.” But he could never fool his mamm. She always saw through him.

“You have changed. The ice that Mattie put around your heart has been melting, and I think that Katie is responsible. Don't let it freeze up again.”

She turned and walked back toward the house, leaving him standing there, speechless.

K
atie
realized she was hurrying as she came down the street to her shop from Lisa's, and she deliberately slowed her pace. Amish women didn't race about like city dwellers, even when, as today, they had much to do.

She and Lisa had been meeting about the Pennsylvania Dutch Days event, which seemed to Katie to be growing out of all resemblance to the simple sales promotion it had once been. Everyone wanted to get involved in the project now that it was up and going, and the enthusiasm threatened to overwhelm Katie.