Amish Country Box Set: Restless Hearts\The Doctor's Blessing\Courting Ruth (57 page)

A tattooed woman with long white-blond hair and short shorts waved her hand at Ruth. “Miss! Can I get some service here? Are these local strawberries?”

“Picked this morning,” Eli assured her. Flashing a big smile, he grabbed up a plastic bag and went to the table. “You won’t find any fresher. Or sweeter. How many quarts would you like?”

A bald man with a little dog on a leash approached the table. Ruth sold him radishes, lettuce and a dozen eggs. Two more customers stopped, and Eli went back to the buggy to bring more strawberries as Ruth waited on them. Business was brisk for ten minutes, and Ruth would have run short of change, but Eli changed a twenty for her with small bills from his pocket.

“Are you thirsty?” he asked when there was a break. “Would you like a soda pop?”

She shook her head. “I’m not thirsty.”

He was standing so close that his gaze made her nervous…made her remember when he’d tried to hold her hand. She felt herself blush. “Thank you for your help. I’m sure you have things to do. There’s no need for you—”

“I like helping you. I think we make a good pair, don’t you? Look, half your berries are gone already. You’ll be sold out before noon.” He grinned. “Unless you want to stick around and let me buy you lunch.”

She shook her head adamantly. “No. Miriam and I have to go home. We have to finish chores and start supper. There’s a work bee tonight at Aunt Martha’s.”

“I know. The men are going. We’re repairing Reuben’s windmill.”

Ruth tried to think of something to say that wouldn’t sound stupid but she couldn’t think of anything. She straightened the rows of quarts of berries.

Eli leaned against the table and crossed his arms over his chest; he’d pushed up his sleeves so his muscular forearms flexed. “Are you baking a pie for the school picnic?”

“I suppose.”

His blue eyes danced with mischief. “Do you make good pies?”

“Not very good,” she admitted. She couldn’t help smiling. “Awful, as a matter of fact.”

An English woman pushing a baby stroller approached. “Are your eggs fresh?” she asked Eli.

“Still warm from the hen,” he quipped.

Ruth nibbled her lower lip. How could he talk to the English so easily? She felt a twinge of uneasiness and glanced up to see Aunt Martha glaring at her from her stand across the way.

“How much are your berries?” the woman customer asked, ignoring the sign. “That other stand usually has them cheaper.”

“They do sell them cheaper,” Eli said. “But ours are larger and haven’t been sitting in a refrigerator since last week.” He winked at Ruth, completely embarrassing her. But a part of her liked it.

The woman nodded and picked up two quarts.

Most of Aunt Martha’s strawberries were still on her table. She wouldn’t be pleased if Ruth sold out first. “Maybe I should go and see if Miriam’s all right,” Ruth suggested when the lady pushed her stroller away, carrying the strawberries.

“I’m sure she’s fine. You can’t leave me. More people may come, and then it will take both of us. The English, they hate to wait.” He pushed his wide-brimmed hat a little higher and smiled at her. “After all, this is your stand. You wouldn’t want to leave me to do all the work, would you? Besides, I make a mistake and then they’d be buying from your aunt Martha next time.” He rolled his eyes.

Ruth couldn’t help herself. She smiled back.

* * *

“It took forever, and by the time I got back, Eli and Ruth had sold all the strawberries,” Miriam chattered. “Can you believe that?” She dropped the handle of the red wagon. “Your turn, Ruth. This is halfway.”

The evening was so nice that Miriam had suggested the five of them walk to Aunt Martha’s. The shortest way wasn’t by the road but through the apple orchard, down the woods trail and across Uncle Reuben’s meadow.

“All them strawberries,” Susanna echoed. She was wearing a new robin’s-egg-blue dress tonight and was so pleased with herself that she kept hopping from one foot to the other.

“What Miriam’s not telling you is that she abandoned me,” Ruth teased. With a mock sigh, she picked up the handle of the child’s high-sided wagon. She would need to take care not to turn it over in the sandy lane and spill the treats they were bringing to share. As usual, Anna had used her time wisely, and the cookies and molasses doughnuts had already been made when they got home from the sale. The wooden wagon was even heavier to pull this evening because Mam had insisted on bringing three pounds of butter, a gallon of buttermilk and four quarts of strawberries. What Aunt Martha needed with more strawberries, Ruth didn’t know, but it was one of those instances when it was easier to go along with Mam than to argue with her.

“Can’t you walk faster?” Anna asked. “We’ll be late for the prayer.”

“Go on ahead,” Ruth said. “Aunt Martha will be put out if she has to wait.” She didn’t mind pulling the wagon. Anna had done all the baking today, and it was a beautiful night for a walk. Birds were singing in the apple trees; frogs were croaking, and the air smelled sweetly of honeysuckle. “If I’m late, I’ll just sneak in the back.”

“Maybe we should go ahead,” Mam agreed. She stopped beneath the spreading branches of an apple tree. “But I have something I need to talk to you about first, girls. It’s Irwin. Samuel said that the board members have been getting complaints from parents. Some of the other children are saying Irwin started the fire at the schoolhouse. If anyone brings it up tonight, say nothing that will contribute to the gossip.”

“What a terrible thing to accuse him of,” Anna exclaimed.

Miriam considered the accusation. “The poor boy is ornery, but setting the school on fire?”

Ruth looked at her sisters, then at Mam. She wished she
could tell Miriam and Anna about seeing Irwin running from the school after the fire broke out, but she’d promised Mam not to tell anyone. As time passed, as difficult as it was to believe that the boy would do such a terrible thing, there were no other suspects, and it seemed as though he might be guilty. And if he was, she didn’t know what would happen. Someone who started fires was dangerous. She hoped that no one would bring in the English police. No matter how serious, it was better to keep Amish trouble in the community.

“I’m not ready to give up on Irwin,” Mam said. “I don’t want any of you to, either. I talked to Lydia today and I’ve arranged for Irwin to come to our place early before school and again in the afternoons to help with the milking and outside chores.”

“You want Irwin near our cows?” Miriam asked. “After he let them into the corn?”

“Mam, I don’t think—” Anna began.

“It’s settled, girls. It will be good to have a man around the farm again.” Mam chuckled. “Even a beanpole of a boy, badly in need of fattening up.”

“But Miriam and Ruth milk the cows,” Susanna said.

“There’s plenty of work for all of us,” Mam assured her. “And I know I can count on all of you to be kind and make Irwin welcome.”

It took a great deal of effort for Ruth to hold her tongue, but she stared at the ground and kept walking slowly as the others hurried on ahead and vanished down the lane.

Of all of her mother’s ideas, this one with Irwin had to be the worst. Ruth jerked the wagon over the ruts in the dirt lane. What if the boy started a fire at their place? They’d have to watch him closely, and from what she’d seen of Irwin, he’d be a lot more trouble than he was worth.

The left wheel suddenly sank into the sand and the
wagon tilted. Ruth dropped the handle and grabbed the glass jar of buttermilk with one hand and the toppling basket of gingerbread with the other. Strawberries rolled out onto the ground. “Christmas fudge!” she cried.

“What kind of talk is that?” came a voice out of the rows of apple trees to her left.

Ruth knew that voice. She twisted around to see Eli coming toward her out of the trees. “Stop that,” she snapped. “Stop what?”

“Sneaking up on me. You keep doing that!”

He laughed. “It looks like you need help, Ruth Yoder. Unless you want me to keep walking and leave you to deal with this all by yourself.” He scooped up a strawberry, blew the sand off and popped it into his mouth.

“What are you doing here?” She felt foolish. Again. She was down on her knees trying to rescue Anna’s cookies and the gingerbread, both in danger of following the errant berries. “Don’t just stand there. Grab something.”

Eli took hold of the corner of the wagon and lifted it. The jar of buttermilk, the strawberries and the desserts slid back to safety. Ruth got to her feet and brushed the dirt off her dress. “You’re lucky I came when I did,” he said. “Otherwise.” Eli shrugged. “Gingerbread disaster.”

“This isn’t the quickest way from Roman’s to Aunt Martha’s house.”

He looked solemn. “It’s not? That’s funny. Miriam told me to come this way.”

“Miriam? Did you think she’d be walking along this lane this evening?”

“I’ll never tell.” He folded his arms over his chest.

Ruth was almost sure he was teasing her. Had Miriam planned this? It was her idea that they should walk. She took the first turn with the wagon, not sure whether or not
she liked the idea that he planned to come this way just so he could bump into her. She had a mind to send him on his way. But the wagon was heavy and they were going the same way. She exhaled. “So long as you’re here, you may as well pull the wagon.”

“Ya,”
he agreed. “That might be best.” He was laughing at her with his eyes, enjoying getting her goat once again.

She watched him as he grabbed the handle of the wagon. “Why do you do this?”

“What? Come to your rescue all the time?”

She made a sound of exasperation, but it came out lame even to her ears. “Stop teasing me.”

“I like teasing you. It’s just too easy.”

“Fine. Be like that.” She turned and started walking down the lane, leaving him to follow with the wagon. Her heart was racing. She felt giddy. And it was all his fault. “Ruth.”

The sound of her name on his lips was as sweet as the mockingbird’s song. She glanced back at him.

“Will you walk with me?” He wasn’t teasing her now. His tone was sincere. His gaze held hers.

“Why should I?” She was asking herself as much as him.

He stopped and pushed his wide-brimmed hat up, and she found herself looking right into his blue eyes.

“Please,” he said.

She felt suddenly breathless. “If you want,” she answered softly. “But talk only. No more holding of hands.”

“Ne,”
he said. “Of course not.” But he couldn’t leave it at that. “Not unless you want to.”

“Why should I want to hold your hand?”

“I don’t know. I think maybe you wanted me to before.”

“I did not.”

He laughed, walking beside her. “I don’t take you for a liar, Ruth. It’s one of the reasons I like you. I would think you would always be honest with people.”

How can he know that?
she wondered.
I can’t even always be honest with myself.
But he was right, she couldn’t out-and-out lie. “Okay, maybe I wanted you to, a little. Maybe,” she admitted. “But it was a mistake.”

“Ya,”
he agreed. “Probably a mistake, but nice. Very nice.”

Chapter Ten

W
alking beside Ruth felt good to Eli. For all her prickly exterior, there was something so sweet and innocent about her that it made him want to throw his arms in the air and shout for joy. And what he said about thinking she would not lie was true, even if he had been teasing her. What he liked about Ruth was that she wore her faith, not like a crown of thorns, but as a glittering mantle of content. She knew who she was, and she liked the person she was. She believed in herself and God. She didn’t have to preach to people. Simply watching her as she followed the righteous path, day after day, made him wish he was the kind of man Ruth would choose to marry.

Since the death of his brother, he’d drifted further and further from the Amish way of life. The incident with Hazel had alienated him even more from his community, and the notion that he’d never be able to find his way back haunted his dreams. Was he too much like his father, as his mother had accused? Was it impossible for him to consider living in the faith he’d been born into?

If he’d taken Hazel to be his wife as everyone had expected, assumed responsibility for her child and formally asked for forgiveness, there would be no question of his
future. He could have taken over his grandfather’s woodworking shop and made a decent living building sturdy kitchen cabinets, lawn furniture and storage sheds. His community would have embraced him, and in time, the gossip would have faded and his new family would have been accepted.

But, as much as he’d liked Hazel, he hadn’t loved her. He hadn’t been able to turn his back on the possibility that he’d find a girl he truly loved and marry her. And he hadn’t wanted to spend the rest of his life making lawn furniture. He wanted to shape beautiful things out of wood, to bring the images in his head to shape, to make his birds come alive. Selfishly, he’d put his own desires before the needs of the baby and Hazel. And now, things might never be made right.

Eli was afraid he hadn’t changed, and he hadn’t learned from his mistakes. Proof that he was still acting selfishly was right here in this apple orchard. Instead of involving Ruth in his troubles, he should get on his scooter and drive to the far end of the country, perhaps even to Alaska. He should go where no one knew him and where no Amish had settled. He should find a place where being Plain meant nothing to the English, and Eli Lapp would be just another craftsman who was skilled with wood.

Instead, he was walking through an apple orchard with the most fascinating woman he’d ever met, a devoted daughter and sister whom he had no chance of winning, someone who would someday marry a God-fearing Plain man. Together, the two of them would raise a family of red-cheeked, happy kids, children who would know who and where they belonged and would never imagine turning English.
Ruth.
Even her name was straight from the pages of the holy book. It was Ruth who sacrificed everything for
love. He would never deserve her; he was causing trouble for her just by being near her.