Blessings (11 page)

She planned to take the GED test at the end of August. If she passed, she would immediately begin trying to enroll in the community college in El Dorado. A two-year college didn’t require ACT scores, so she could get several classes out of the way before transferring to a bigger college. She and Beth had worked everything out. But now a fear struck. Graham might decide to pursue some other girl—maybe even Darcy—if she persisted in her pursuit of education. A stinging behind her nose let her know tears threatened. She quickly turned her back on Darcy.

“Trina?” Darcy’s worried voice came from directly behind Trina’s ear. “Is something wrong?”

Yes, many things were wrong. But Trina didn’t have the slightest idea how to fix them.
Lord, I’m so confused. I believe I’m meant to care for animals. But I love Graham, too. How can we make this all work?

She sniffed hard and turned to face her friend. “It looks like the girls have started bundling the shucks for fodder. Should we help?”

Darcy’s brows pulled down briefly, but then she offered a smile and nod. “Sure.”

They moved toward the group just as another whoop rose. Walt pounded Graham on the back, and the other young men laughed and hollered. Trina’s feet came to a stumbling halt as people began turning, aiming their laughing gazes in her direction. Behind her, Darcy grabbed her shoulders and murmured, “Uh-oh.” Trina knew without even looking.

Graham, too, had found a red ear of corn.

E
LEVEN

G
raham held his prize with a mixture of elation and regret. A month ago he would have presented Trina with the red ear then given her a possessive kiss that would make clear to everyone his intentions regarding her. But now? He held the ear against his thigh while whistles and cheers sounded, and Trina stood twelve feet away on the straw-covered barn floor, her brown eyes wide in her pale face.

She didn’t know what to do, either.

A feeling akin to anger welled up inside of Graham. This ridiculous notion of hers had changed everything. He couldn’t put his stamp of possession on a woman who might not be his someday. But how could he save face with his friends? He had to kiss her. Yet, looking into her apprehensive face, he hesitated. His mind raced through the options, and he decided there was only one thing he could do.

With deliberately slow steps for the benefit of their audience, he advanced on Trina. Her cheeks flamed brighter with every inch that closed between them. He stopped less than a foot and a half in front of her. Between his buddies’ encouragement and the girls’ giggles, he hoped she’d be able to hear him. Leaning forward, he let his lips brush her temple, which would satisfy the gawkers, as he whispered, “Don’t worry—I won’t kiss you in front of everyone.”

The look of relief she gave him sent another rush of mixed emotions through his chest, but he squeezed her arm, straightened, and called over his shoulder, “Okay, I won that round. Who’s going to top me this time?”

By nine thirty, the corncrib overflowed with stripped ears, and the bundled shucked leaves lay in neat rows in the loft to dry. Everyone began climbing into their vehicles to return to their homes.

Graham couldn’t help but notice Trina’s reticence during the good-bye process. In the past, she would have bounced from car to car, offering private farewells to each person in attendance. Tonight, however, she stayed close to Walt’s vehicle, waving and smiling, but clearly eager to be done with the formalities and on their way.

He and Walt got into the front seat, and Michelle and Trina shared the back. Michelle chattered away, leaning forward occasionally to tap Walt’s shoulder and whisper comments that made him laugh. Trina responded to questions but did very little talking. That, too, was different.

Graham faced forward, his chest tight, as he compared the Trina he had begun courting six months ago to the one sitting in the backseat of Walt’s car. He missed the old Trina. Ever since she got the idea of pursuing a career, she hadn’t been the same. Why couldn’t she see it? Surely if she set the notion aside, her old bubbly self would return.

Wouldn’t it?

Walt pulled up in front of Trina’s house. “Here you go. See you at service tomorrow.”

“Thank you for the ride, Walt. Bye, Michelle.” Her gaze flitted to Graham, her eyes questioning. “Bye, Graham.”

She expected him to just ride off with Walt and not have a private good-bye? He popped his door open. “Thanks for the ride, but I’ll walk from here.” He knew Michelle and Walt would want a few minutes alone, too. Based on the silent messages flowing between the two of them following their kiss tonight, it wouldn’t be long before they were published. He envied his friend.

Walt nodded. “See you, buddy.”

Graham slammed the door and remained on the road until Walt drove off. Trina stood on the sidewalk, her gaze on him. The same reserve he’d seen during the leave-taking at the party was still very much in existence. How he wished she’d warm up a little. Was it only a month and a half ago she’d nearly danced into his arms when he visited her in Andrew’s barn?

He walked toward her, watching her suck in her lower lip. She tipped her head back to look into his face when he stepped onto the sidewalk. Her brown eyes appeared darker in hue with the evening around them.

“You could have let Walt take you home,” she said. “It’s late— Mama will expect me to come in right away.”

He shrugged. “Walt will want some time alone with Michelle.” He should have said he wanted some time alone with Trina.

“I suppose.” She turned toward the porch and took tiny steps along the walkway. He wished she’d say she wanted some time alone with him.

Although she didn’t offer an invitation for conversation, he fell in step with her. The porch light cast a golden path for them to follow, and he touched her back lightly as they neared the steps. She scurried forward, away from his fingers, and stepped onto the first riser. But then she turned to face him.

The eight-inch riser put her at an equal height with him. How simple it would be to lean forward and place a kiss on her lips. But if he did it now, she’d think it was because of the red ear. Besides, her mother was probably watching.

He slid his hands into his trouser pockets. “Did you enjoy this evening at all, Trina?” He heard the resignation in his tone and did nothing to mask it.

Her eyes widened. “W–why, of course I did. The shucking parties are always fun.” She licked her lips. “And it’s been ages since I had an evening with everyone.”

He wanted to ask,
And whose fault is that?
But he didn’t want a fight. He wanted things to go back to the way they were before that night Andrew called her out to work on Regen’s leg. So he said, “I’m glad you came. I wish we had more evenings together.”

“I know.” But she didn’t say, “Me, too,” or “We will,” or anything else that would have been encouraging.

Graham blew out a noisy breath. “Well, you’d better go in.”

Her eyes seemed sad as she nodded. But she remained on the step, her hands clasped girlishly behind her back, her white ribbons trailing down her cheeks. “I don’t want to go in with you mad at me.”

Graham took a stumbling step backward. “I’m not mad at you.”

“Yes, you are.” She looked at him, unsmiling. “You invited me to go to the party, but I can tell you’re mad. You’ve been mad at me for a long time.”

He knew exactly how long, too. “Trina, I’m not mad, I’m—” But what could he say? If he was honest, he was mad. Mad at her for heading in a direction she shouldn’t. Mad at her for being stubborn. Mad at her for disrupting his life. With a rueful snort, he admitted, “Okay, I’m mad.”

“Tell me why.”

In her expression, he saw a hint of the old Trina—the spunky, I-can-handle-whatever-comes-my-way Trina who had captured his heart. Yet the firmly held posture, the tension in her brow spoke of the new Trina—the one he didn’t want to know.

“Because you’ve changed. All your plans to go to school, to become some kind of animal doctor—it’s taken something away from you. I miss that something.”

For long moments, Trina stared into his eyes without moving, without changing expression, without speaking. When he felt as though she’d turned to stone, she finally raised her shoulders in a tiny shrug and turned her face slightly to the side. She sighed. Without looking at him, she said, “It isn’t the planning for school that’s taken something away from me.”

Without offering further explanation, she climbed the remaining two risers and entered her house. Despite the sultry evening air, Graham experienced a chill. He got the distinct impression he’d just been told good-bye.

Trina followed her mother from the cloakroom. On the benches across the worship room, Graham sat beside the other unmarried men in the last row in the men’s section. Her heart ached when she saw him. Not that long ago, he would have met her gaze and sneaked a wink or sent her a secretive smile. But today he didn’t even glance in her direction.

He was still mad.

She slid onto the bench next to Mama and blinked rapidly to control the sting of tears. She missed Graham. She missed his laughter, his teasing, the way he could make her tummy tremble with a simple look. How it hurt that he now held himself aloof. She had hoped better of him.

Her gaze drifted to Andrew, sitting stoic and serious two benches ahead of Graham. She had expected more from her favorite cousin, too. Fulfilling her heart’s desire meant so much to her, but everywhere she turned she met resistance. Why had so many people let her down lately?

Trina had no time to process that question. The deacons and minister marched in, and the congregation knelt for the opening prayer. Head bowed and eyes closed, Trina added her own prayer to that of the minister—
Please, Lord, bring our hearts together so I can walk where You lead
.

After the service, as people mingled in front of the simple clapboard building before going to homes for meals, Trina moved to the center of the grassy yard and waited. Graham came out the front doors with Walt. The two slapped their black hats on their heads in unison then paused at the foot of the steps to chat. She watched, waiting, hoping, her hands clasped at the waist of her purple dress and her breath coming in short spurts of anticipation.

Look at me, Graham. Look at me
. If he would only look—just once— then she could send him a silent message.
I still care. I still love you. Please, we can work this out
.

Someone touched her arm, and she jumped. She turned to find Michelle Lapp. “He won’t be coming over here anytime soon.”

Trina frowned. Was she that transparent? Denying she was waiting for Graham would be pointless as well as untruthful. “Why not?”

“Walt is talking to him about. . .” Michelle glanced around, her lips pursed tightly. Then she leaned forward and whispered, “Our plans to be published. He talked to my folks last night after the shucking.” Michelle’s eyes danced with excitement.

Trina squeezed her friend’s hands. “Oh, Michelle, how wonderful for you.” She tried to truly mean it, but she recognized a wave of jealousy underscoring her words.

“Yes.” Michelle smoothed her hair beneath her pristine cap then ran her fingers along the white ribbons. “All along I thought you and Graham would beat us to it, but we’ll be first, after all.”

Trina’s brows pulled down. Did Michelle see marriage as a competition to be won?

Apparently reading Trina’s mind, Michelle laughed and threw her arm across Trina’s shoulders. “Oh, don’t be silly. I know we aren’t in a footrace. I’m just surprised, that’s all. Graham’s had eyes for no one but you for over a year now, and we all finally saw you looking back with the same interest. Graham’s a year older than Walt, so we just figured. . .”

Trina didn’t care for the use of the word
we
, implying others had been talking about her behind her back. She also wondered what else had been discussed. As Andrew had often joked, there were no secrets in Sommerfeld. Did they know the deepest secret in her heart, too? While she sought a way to ask without giving herself away, her mother’s voice carried across the yard.

“Trina! It’s time to go—come along.”

With a sigh, Trina sent one more look toward the men’s doors. To her surprise, Graham was no longer there. She spun around, seeking his car. It was gone. Her heart fell. He’d left without saying a word to her.

“Trina!”

Michelle gave her arm a little nudge. “I think your mother is getting impatient. I’ll see you later, Trina. Don’t tell anybody about me getting published yet, okay?”

Trina looked directly into Michelle’s eyes. “I don’t tell secrets.”

Michelle’s blush let Trina know she understood the hidden meaning. Of all their friends, Michelle had the biggest tendency to talk too much. “Bye.” She scurried away.

“Trina, are you coming?”

The irritated note in Mama’s voice set Trina’s feet in motion. “Yes, Mama, I’m coming.”