Rosemary Opens Her Heart: Home at Cedar Creek, Book Two (13 page)

“She’ll be no trouble at all,” Beth Ann replied. “Katie plays with my spools and scraps.
I can already tell she’s going to like her new dresses by the way she picks up leftover
pieces of the lavender and gold we bought for her.”

“Jah, well…I’ll be back in a while. Denki for your help, Beth Ann.”

Katie looked up from the corner where she sat arranging fabric scraps. “I love you,
Mamm!” she chirped.

Rosemary still got goose bumps every time her toddler said that. In a lot of Amish
families, affection wasn’t openly expressed, but she believed it was important for
Katie to know she was loved, and to express her feelings, too. “Jah, and I love you,
too, punkin,” she replied. “Be a gut girl for Aunt Beth Ann while I’m in the garden.”

She fetched her baskets from the shelf in the mudroom. Out the door and across the
yard she went, noticing how the grass already needed cutting—and goodness, what a
crop of dandelions they had! She was just crouching at the outermost row of green
onions when the phone rang.

Should she answer it? It might not be Matt—and if it was, what would she say to him?
She had been riding such an emotional seesaw that she had no idea what words might
come out of her mouth. If she let it ring, he would eventually figure out that she
didn’t want to talk to him.

But if Titus answered, he would encourage Matt’s attentions.

Rosemary made it into the shanty just in time to keep the message machine from kicking
on. “Jah, hullo?” she said breathlessly.

“It’s gut to hear your voice again, Rosemary. This is Matt.” He sounded so close he
could have been calling from the other side of the wall while looking in the window
at her. “I thought you might
not answer. I didn’t mean to come on like a fire truck at the wedding.”

Rosemary closed her eyes. If she didn’t set him straight right off, there would be
no convincing him that she meant what she said…and no way she’d be able to say what
she meant. She hadn’t talked to a man this way since Joe had courted her, and she
felt as nervous as a girl at her first singing. “You need to understand that Joe and
I were so happy that, well— You’re a nice fella, Matt. But don’t get your hopes up.”

“You’re talking to me, though. That’s all I want for right now.”

Rosemary gripped the receiver. Why couldn’t she spell out her feelings—or just hang
up?

“Ezra says you bake a better apple pie than your aunt Lois,” Matt continued, sounding
comfortable and confident. “What’s your secret?”

“Brown sugar instead of white,” she replied without a second thought—and then she
realized that he had cleverly kept her talking by changing to a safe, everyday topic.
And what else had Uncle Ezra told him? Had Titus contacted him about moving to Cedar
Creek? Her mind was spinning with so many possibilities that her tongue couldn’t seem
to cooperate.

“What do you like to do in your spare time?” Matt asked. “Say, on Sunday afternoons?”

Was he going to ask her for a date? Planning to come to Queen City rather than attending
tomorrow’s singing in Cedar Creek? On alternate Sundays when they didn’t have church,
Amish families often went on longer visits, so maybe he was planning a week ahead.
“Well…I don’t have an answer for that because—because I don’t have any spare time,”
she blurted out.

“You know, I haven’t had much fun lately, either,” he replied. “I keep busy with my
sheep and my dogs, mostly. Maybe if I had company other than Panda and Pearl, my life
would take on more sparkle.”

Sparkle? Why would a Plain fellow care about that?

Rosemary recalled Matt’s shining brown eyes and wished they hadn’t looked so happy
all those times he’d held her gaze on Thursday. His voice, low and smooth, was affecting
her, too. But she couldn’t fall into any more conversational traps. “I saw plenty
of single girls at the wedding who’d enjoy being with you,” she stated.

“I’ve known them all my life.” His reply was so clear, she could imagine him shrugging…tilting
his head the way he had at the wedding, when he’d been listening carefully. “I’m twenty-two
and I haven’t found the right woman, Rosemary. I have a wonderful-gut family—lots
of girls as friends—but it’s time to start a home of my own.”

“Matt, I can’t just up and leave Titus!” she protested.

“Why not?”

Rosemary swallowed hard. It had been
her
idea to move in with Joe’s dat. The household chores had been overwhelming Beth Ann,
and she’d believed that sharing their grief might help them all heal sooner. But she
couldn’t explain such notions to Matt, could she? Her Joe had been five years older
than she was, more reserved and settled than this fellow who was challenging her with
his new ideas…his life-altering questions. Rosemary fidgeted with the pencil and scratch
pad.

“Titus lived a gut long life with Alma,” Matt continued in a persuasive tone, “and
no matter how hard you try, you can’t replace her. Not that Titus wouldn’t miss you,
understand. And—”

“I never intended to replace Alma!” she blurted out. “It’s just that—”

“—I can see why you wouldn’t want to leave the area where you’ve lived for most of
your life. So if Titus finds a place here in Cedar Creek—”

So Titus
had
talked to Matt about moving there. Rosemary’s lungs were running out of air, just
as she was running out of ways to counter Matt’s ideas.

“—maybe I could move to Queen City!” he suggested gleefully. “Ezra says you’ve got
a piece of land where you and Joe had planned to build a house. I can’t imagine you
living in a new place or in Titus’s house after he leaves and trying to raise Katie
alone.”

“Matt, you haven’t heard a thing I’ve said!” Rosemary blurted out. This conversation
was getting way out of hand. “I’ll not be moving to Cedar Creek, and you’ll not be
moving here, either. I—I have to go now!”

“Tell Katie that Panda and Pearl say hi!”

She banged the receiver down so hard the clatter echoed inside the tiny building.
What a lot of nerve for Matt Lambright—whom she’d met only two days ago—to suggest
that he could take Joe’s place even as he told her not to fill in for Alma! Rosemary
stepped outside, but the fresh air did nothing to settle her emotions. In all her
years with Joe, she had never felt so frenzied, so pushed into doing something before
she was ready.

Joe was the slow-but-steady type. He did what needed to be done on the farm, ran his
remodeling business, and relied on you to run the house. No challenges. No surprises.

Rosemary drew in a deep breath, glancing around the yard. No one else was in sight,
so she could use this time in the garden to clarify thoughts that had boiled over
like an unwatched pot. Truth be told, her husband’s reticence had irritated her at
times. More than once Joe had planned a joint trip to town or had assumed she would
help him with sheep chores when she had figured on canning vegetables with Mamm or
had promised pies to the Clearwater Café.

But didn’t every wife figure on being inconvenienced now and again? Wasn’t it part
and parcel of marriage that the man of the family made the decisions and the woman
went along with them? Yet Matt didn’t seem to fit such a predictable mold…

Rosemary walked toward the garden again and was struck by the bright yellow-green
of the leaf lettuce and the way the bean plants had popped out of the ground practically
overnight. New growth…
a fresh season, and all of it happening from the planting of seeds and the gentle
rains God had provided at just the right time.

Maybe she was overreacting to Matt’s enthusiasm. By nature she was as bubbly and vibrant
as her Katie, yet these past months she’d worn black clothing and stayed dutifully
busy to keep her loneliness at bay. Her husband had provided her a good, steady life,
but his own mother had remarked about how Joe and Titus seldom laughed out loud.
As somber as a couple of crows perched on a hearse,
Alma had said on more than one occasion.

Rosemary had met Matt only a couple of days ago, but she couldn’t imagine anyone comparing
him to a blackbird at a funeral. As she knelt to cut lettuce for their supper, her
thoughts returned to what Matt had said during his call.
You bake a better apple pie than your aunt Lois…What do you like to do in your spare
time?…I haven’t had much fun lately…

For sure and for certain,
fun
wasn’t one of Titus’s priorities. And hadn’t Mamm told her there was no future in
staying with him? Matt was stating the same idea but with different words…more convincing
reasons, even if he had tried to rush her into a relationship.

Still, she felt obliged to look after Joe’s dat. It was important for Katie to grow
up near Joe’s family. Wasn’t it?

As she clipped some spinach, Rosemary had a flash of memory from the wedding, when
Katie stood fascinated by the two black-and-white dogs…with Matt’s arm around her
waist as he encouraged her. Her daughter had been so enthralled by those dogs and
so enamored of Matt—so trusting. But what did a three-year-old know about love and
life and what it took to get from one day to the next?

Maybe more than you realize. What if Katie has the right idea, reaching out to a man
whose future shines as brightly as his eyes?

Rosemary blinked. How had her thoughts taken such a turnaround? Thank goodness there
were so many onions to pull and peas to pick and radishes to gather and—

And when will you stop working all the time so you can start laughing—and loving—again?

Rosemary yanked so hard on a handful of green onions that their tops broke off. Was
that Matt speaking in her thoughts? Had his pleasant conversation softened her heart,
pointing out how lonely she had been these past several months? Still on her knees,
she sank lower to regain control of her jumbled feelings. She drew a deep breath and
began to pray, because she had no idea what else to do.

A
bby stepped back from the Mardi Gras carriage to study the arrangement of fake jewels
she’d just glued to one of its doors. “Is that what you had in mind, James?” she asked,
holding the cordless glue gun so it wouldn’t drip. “Seems to me, if we add one more
row of the green beads as a border, it would finish off the design and cover the edges
of the inset, too.”

“I knew you’d have the right eye for my trim work,” he replied, “even if you think
a wicked witch ought to be riding in this carriage.”

Abby grinned. When had she ever spent a Saturday afternoon working in James’s shop
on such a flamboyant project? “After sewing dark work pants for Matt and Sam all morning,
this is a lot more fun—and certainly more colorful!”

When James smiled at Abby, her heart danced with anticipation. He fitted his epoxy
gun with a very small tip and came to stand beside her. “I’ll secure the jewels you’ve
set so far, so they’ll stay rock solid in place before you add the border.” He raised
his eyebrows playfully. “You never know how fast this carriage might travel in New
Orleans, considering how speedy it looks just sitting here in the shop.”

As their laughter rang out in the big, open workroom, Abby chose the same number of
purple, gold, and green faceted stones for the design on the opposite door. While
she had known James Graber all her life, today felt special. Since two days ago, the
light in his eyes at the wedding supper, when he’d invited her for a ride, had lit
up her imagination—her whole sense of who she was and what she might hope for.

“I’ve sliced some ham and made coleslaw for our picnic,” she said as she positioned
three gold octagonal beads in the center of the inset. “And when Sam saw I was making
fried pies, he threatened to come with us if I didn’t make him some, too.”

“The more, the merrier, right?” James’s eyes teased her over the tops of the carriage
doors. “So what kind did you make him?”

What a fine face James had: the lines at the corners of his eyes crinkled and a dimple
came out to play in each of his cheeks. Abby returned his gaze and then focused on
keeping hot glue from dripping all over the carriage door. “Sam likes pineapple-lemon
filling, so I made a batch of those, as well as a dozen or so with cherry, and another
batch with apples and lots of cinnamon.” She squeezed the glue gun’s trigger to affix
more beads. “That’ll give them enough for tonight’s dessert as well as some for tomorrow’s
lunch after the preaching service. Barbara has a couple of midwifing visits over toward
Clearwater today and Mamm’s planting flats of bedding plants in her greenhouse, so
I’m the designated baker.”

“I can’t lose, whichever flavors you bring along, Abby,” James assured her. “It’s
been a long time since I went on a picnic.” He was intent on squeezing out the clear
epoxy in just the right amount, so he stopped chatting until he’d finished going around
the beads she had affixed. “Emma and the folks seemed mighty surprised when I told
them why I wouldn’t be at supper tonight. Surprised but pleased.”