A Little Bit of Charm (34 page)

“Have there been recent outbreaks?”

“In the last ten years, outbreaks have occurred in Africa, India, the Dominican Republic, and Haiti. Who knows how many people in those countries are carriers and don't know it?”

The bishop paled. “Several Mennonite districts sent construction workers to Haiti to assist rebuilding after the earthquake. Things still aren't right in that country. We must remember them in prayer.”

“That's true, but we should do more than pray. We must make sure Casey County citizens are safe and stay that way.”

The elderly man stared out the window. “I will order every family in my district to be tested, and I'll ask the other area bishops to do the same. But I cannot order members to get shots. That must be their choice.”

“I'm grateful for whatever help you give me. I'll leave flyers to pass out that explain how and when samples will be collected.”

“I could write to my bishop in Pennsylvania,” said Rachel. All heads turned in her direction. “He's as old as
grossmammi
, so he would remember when people came to Lancaster County to vaccinate for polio. Most children received the shots, but that was a long time ago. They have
kinner
of their own, even
kinskinner
, by now. My grandmother said she doesn't remember anybody getting sick from the vaccines.”

“Do you think your bishop would be willing to travel here and talk to Kentucky folks?” Donna held her breath.

“I can ask. I'll call tonight and ask him to call me from a payphone.”

“If he does, our grandmother will probably come too.” Sarah winked at Rachel. “She's been itching for a chance to talk to you.”

Rachel blushed a shade of bright pink.

“Call as soon as possible,” said Bishop Mast. “We'll hold a district meeting as soon as he and your
grossmammi
arrive.” He turned his focus back to her. “Thank you, Mrs. Cline, for your diligence. If it be God's will, a crisis can still be avoided.” He rose shakily to his feet. “Let's go have some cookies. My
fraa
whipped up a batch of chocolate chip the minute Sarah asked to stop by today. She only
acts
like she doesn't like company.” His smile couldn't be more genuine.

Jessie climbed stiffly out of her friend's tiny two-seater, eager to stretch her legs and her back. The drive home from their Lexington campus took only a couple of hours, but she felt worn out. Sherry had spent nearly the entire ride talking about her soon-to-be ex-boyfriend. She loved him. She loved him not.

All Sherry needed were daisy petals to pluck to help make her decision. Twelve Elms Stable had never looked so inviting as when they pulled up the lane, despite an overcast sky and a thick mist hanging in the air. “Thanks for the lift,” Jessie said. “Not having wheels on campus has its downside. I appreciate your letting me borrow yours this past year.” Jessie walked around to the back of the sports car.

“It has its disadvantages too. My mom is threatening to charge me for my share of the insurance premium. Like I'm not broke enough already.” Sherry popped open the trunk with her key fob.

“I can't believe all our stuff fit in here.” Jessie peered at the assortment of boxes and bags. “I've never seen so much dirty laundry. Didn't you ever use a washing machine all semester?”

“Why take the time when a mall is so close by? My dad said, ‘Buy what you need while at school.'” She lifted out one of Jessie's two suitcases.

“It must be nice to have a rich father, even if he spends most of his life away on business. Where's he now—Hong Kong or Dubai?”

“Geneva.” Sherry's smile faltered. “I suppose it's not so bad now that I'm no longer a kid, but I envied you with a dad always at home. Remember the time he measured the length of your skirts with a tape measure?”

“How could I forget? ‘
No daughter of mine leaves the house with less than eighteen inches of fabric
.'” Jessie emulated her father's voice. “He made me return everything I bought to the store. There's sweetly old fashioned and then there's downright prehistoric.”

Both girls laughed as Jessie dragged the heavier of the two suitcases out of the trunk. “Have a great Christmas vacation, Sherry. And remember what I told you. If your mom goes skiing or anyplace else over the holidays, don't sit home playing video games and texting your ex. Come spend Christmas with the Bradys. We're just as ridiculous as that sitcom family in reruns.”

Sherry hugged Jessie fiercely. “Thanks, I might take you up on the offer whether Linda Sue takes off with her boyfriend or not. You have that irresistible sugarplum brother living under your roof.”

Jessie shook her head, amused whenever Sherry referred to her mother by her first name. “If you mean Jake, he still lives here, but I'm not so sure about the sugarplum part. Your memory appears to be flawed.”

Her friend climbed into her car and turned it around in a narrow arc. “My memory is just fine. Women cannot appreciate a
good man if they are biologically connected. Keep your cell fully charged and turned on.” With a wave of her manicured hand, Sherry drove off toward the suburbs of Georgetown—another hour away.

Jessie dragged in her luggage, feeling a tad guilty about Sherry's crush on her brother. Should she have mentioned that Jake was over the moon in love? And with an Amish girl, no less. Seeing them together in church when she came home for the weekend erased any doubt in her mind. And she was fairly certain Rachel felt the same way about him. But considering the circumstances, Jessie had kept silent about Jake's intentions. How could it possibly work out? Would Rachel give up her bonnets and capes forever and then drive off to Florida to honeymoon at Disney World? Or would Jake turn in his belts for suspenders, his Reds baseball cap for a black wide-brim hat, and his pickup for a well-mannered Standardbred buggy horse?

Jessie shook off the idea like a dog after a bath. “Is anybody home?” she hollered once she was inside the kitchen. “Virgil, Keeley, Mom?” Utter silence reigned throughout the house. Here was the major difference between her family and their fictional namesake—on the show somebody was always home to greet wayward travelers.

She trudged to the laundry room with her suitcases, pulled out her toiletry bag and hairdryer, and left everything else on the floor. Tomorrow she would tackle that beast after a good night's sleep in her own bed, but for now she headed straight to their home office to update her Facebook status. She had to let the world know the Princess had left her realm in Lexington and would now rule over underpopulated, slow-moving-as-a-limping-tortoise Charm, Kentucky. Tired of her small-screened tablet, she would stay in touch with her loyal subjects on Dad's large computer monitor.

When barely midway through commenting on her friends' postings, Jessie spied Jake's battered briefcase open on the floor.
The guy had bought it at the secondhand store, thinking it gave him a sophisticated, cosmopolitan air. Unfortunately, instead he looked like an entry-level lawyer living on a budget while trying to pay off student loans.

A corner of one book caught her eye. Jessie bent to pull out the thin volume.
Plain Answers About the Amish Life
by Mindy Starns Clark. Reaching deeper into the bag, Jessie extracted
Living Without Electricity
by Stephen Scott and
Amish Life
by John A. Hostetler. The latter featured a sweet-faced little girl in a pink pinafore and black apron, coloring in a workbook with a red crayon. Jessie didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Her heart swelled with emotion as she realized that her brother was truly serious about Rachel. “Oh, Jake, how will this turn out?” she whispered to the rosy-cheeked child. Abandoning her Facebook profile, Jessie left the office in search of her love-struck sibling.

She found him in an unused corner of the family barn, which was home to Buster and Bess, Pretty Boy, Keeley's new brindle mare, and her usual riding mount, along with Virgil's, Dad's, and other horses they had acquired but were too sentimental to part with. Jake, however, was not handling anything equine. Instead, he cuddled one-eyed Skinny Joe in the crook of his elbow, petting the animal with long, tender strokes. Joe purred with the lung capacity of a much larger feline.

“What's going on, big brother?” Jessie crept closer and spoke softly, not wishing to startle either of them.

“You home for a while?” he asked, scratching Joe beneath his whiskery chin.

“I am. Three weeks. Can you tolerate me that long?” She reached out to wrap Joe's skinny tail around one finger.

“I'll try. Maybe I'll take up Zen meditation to calm my nerves.” Jake's dimples deepened with his grin.

Jessie studied the pitiful cat. “No matter how much this poor thing eats, he stays scrawny and his fur remains sparse.”

“That's why I'm worried about him out here. The vet said nothing's wrong with him, just bad genetics.” Jake placed the cat into a wooden box lined with soft wool horse blankets. He had folded them high all around to practically create a cave for Joe. A water dish and a brimming food bowl sat on a ledge just below his new home.

“What's the extension cord for?” Jessie pointed at the coiled reel.

“I picked up a sunlamp at the hardware store, the kind dairy farmers use to keep water troughs from freezing during the winter.” He lifted a blue plastic sack from the floor. “The barn isn't heated like the arena, and I don't want Joe's water bowl icing over. The poor guy's not allowed in the house like Luke and Leia.” He dropped his chin.

“Dad had to draw the line somewhere, or Keeley would bring every stray cat indoors.”

“Well, I don't want poor Joe shivering this winter with his pathetic fur coat.” Jake scratched the cat's nose while Joe arched his neck in his warm new haven.

Jessie felt a lump rise into her throat. “You're a softy, Jake Brady. No doubt about it.”

“Keep quiet about that, okay? I don't want my reputation as a bad boy to suffer.”

“
Bad boy?
” She laughed hard enough to scare Joe deeper into his box.

Jake calmed the cat with a cooing sound. “Don't worry, Skinny. This loud woman will soon be gone. The refrigerator with free food beckons.”

Jessie nudged her brother with her hip. “I found your stack of Amish books in the office. Reading up on Rachel's culture, huh?”

“Yep,” he said, stringing the extension cord along the back wall with hooks. “I don't want to keep asking dumb questions forever.”

“So if I look under your mattress, will I find sweet Amish
romances instead of girlie magazines?” She giggled in spite of herself.

He scowled at her and then concentrated on installing Joe's winter heat source. “What's under my mattress is none of your business. Is there a point to this conversation, little sister? Or were you just anxious to bug somebody now that you're home?”

Jessie tugged on his jacket sleeve. “I'm worried about you, Jake. It seems like you've really fallen for Rachel.” She dropped her voice to a whisper.

“What's there to worry about? I'm a big boy.” He pulled the heat lamp from the box and clamped it to the back wall above the cat's new quarters.

“That you'll get your heart broken.”

His eyes flashed with anger. “Why is that, Jessie? Because you think Rachel couldn't
possibly
fall for me?”

“No, but I can't see you trading your fancy wheels in for a horse and buggy. And the relationship won't work if
somebody
doesn't change. Will she be willing to give up being Amish?”

Jake ignored her for a long while, maybe hoping she would go away.

When he remained silent, she continued in a faltering tone. “Okay, I'll butt out. But just for the record, I hope things work out for you. You're both really nice people.”

He angled another glare in her direction. “Time will tell. I can only hope and pray for the best. Now leave me and Skinny Joe to our work.”

Rachel has him praying?
Jessie exited the cold, damp barn as quickly as possible. She wouldn't want Jake noticing how unlikely she believed his dream to be.