Double Take (14 page)

As they went to the elevator, Anna told about the treadle machine she used at home. “It is not so fast. But like you said, fast enough.”

“Hey, maybe you can come over here tomorrow,” Lucinda offered. “You can try out a machine if you like.”

“Really?”

Lucinda nodded as she pushed the down button. “Then we can talk some more. Maybe I can tell you about Madison and me.”

“I would like that.” Anna smiled.

Riding back down to the lobby with Lucinda, Anna felt even more curious. Why would Madison give up a nice friend like her? Lucinda seemed like a genuine person—and a hard worker too. As Anna rode the elevator back up to the penthouse, she hoped she might solve the Lucinda and Madison mystery tomorrow. As for the missing boyfriend mystery . . . maybe she would never get to the bottom of it.

Madison was just ladling herself a bowl of creamy potato soup when Malachi walked into the kitchen.

“Any more of that left?” Malachi asked as he went over to the sink to wash his hands.

“
Ja
,
ja
,” Madison said, trying to imitate Rachel. “There is plenty.”

“Where is everyone?” He rubbed the gray block of soap so vigorously that it almost began to lather. Was he angry or just energetic?

“Uncle Daniel came early to eat,” she explained as she filled another bowl. “He had to drive over to the Vorschke farm to get something for his plow.”

“
Ja
. He broke down this morning. He thought he could fix it himself.”

“Maybe not.” She sliced a few more pieces of the whole wheat bread, setting them on the table next to the homemade butter. Yesterday afternoon Madison had cranked the handle of that butter churn herself, watching in wonder as the cream went from liquid to solid. Who knew?

As Malachi dried his hands, she explained that she had just fed Jeremiah and Elizabeth their lunch, and that Aunt Rachel was putting them down for naps. “Then she will rest too.”

“So we are alone?” His blue eyes lit up with mischief.

“Ja.”
She smiled boldly at him. “Just the two of us.” She wondered if he would mention the missed meeting by the pond. Or perhaps he had missed it as well. But he just sat down on the bench and rubbed his hands together.

“Some of the women say Aunt Rachel is not so good in the kitchen,” he said quietly. “But I say no one makes potato soup as good as her.” He picked up his spoon and dipped it in without bothering to pray, to Madison’s surprise.

“You don’t pray before eating?” she whispered.

Looking embarrassed, he left his spoon in the soup and bowed his head. He did seem sincere. “Sorry about that. I was too hungry.”

“It’s all right.” She picked up her spoon. “You were saying . . . other women say mean things about Aunt Rachel?”

He nodded and took another bite.

“Why do you think that is?”

He shrugged. “It’s just the way it is.”

“It seems wrong and mean.”

“It is wrong and mean. Some people are like that.”

She thought about this. It was somewhat reassuring that Rachel had been telling the truth about how she was treated. Certainly she had no reason to lie about something as unflattering as being called lazy. Although that seemed unfair. Rachel worked hard.

It was disturbing to think that “godly” women thought it acceptable to gossip and slander each other. And what was up with the shunning business? Rachel had said that Malachi and his mother had experienced something like that too. Madison wished she had the nerve to ask Malachi about this, but for now his attention seemed primarily on his food.

She discreetly watched him eat. Focused intently on each bite, he seemed ravenous, yet he moved the spoon gracefully up and down, not spilling a drop. He even tore his bread in half, buttering it with care. Almost as if he’d had some kind of etiquette training. Anna’s uncle, who slurped his soup and belched on occasion, must’ve slept in on that day.

“I know you’re watching me.” Malachi suddenly looked up, catching her staring.

“I’m sorry.” She looked down at her barely touched soup.

“You aren’t hungry?”

She chuckled. “Yes. Just distracted.”

“What has you so distracted?” Again he flashed that killer smile—like he knew he was the reason for her anxiety.

“Oh, you know . . .” She tried to think of something harmless and believable. “Aunt Rachel is so pregnant. I’m thinking she could have that baby any day now.”

“
Ja
, for sure.” He looked dismayed. “I hope not too soon, Anna.”

“Why is that?”

He smiled sheepishly. “Because after you help Aunt Rachel, would you go back to your family?”

“
Ja
. After a while I have to go home.” She wanted to confide in him that she had only a few more days here. She wanted to admit that she was not Anna, that she’d never lived like this before, and that she knew nothing about birthing babies. Instead she decided to see what she could learn about him. “Aunt Rachel tells me you’re not from here, Malachi. Is that right?”

He nodded, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, reminding her that there seemed to be no napkins in this house. Whether it was just Rachel’s way or something Amish, Madison didn’t know.

“And you work for your other uncle part of the time.”

“
Ja
. I work in his wood shop. He is teaching me how to make furniture.”

“Furniture?”

“
Ja
. I am working on a table now.”

A handsome young man who was capable of working a farm and making tables? Perhaps she had been too hasty in writing him off. She tried to imagine the two of them as a couple, living plainly, working hard, being together. On some levels it had allure. Then she remembered all the little—and the not so little—inconveniences of this so-called simple life, and she knew it was nothing more than a fantasy. At least for her.

“Do you want to walk outside?” Malachi asked as he stood. “There’s something I can show you.”

She stood and smoothed her apron. “
Ja
. I would like to come.”

“It’s at the pond,” he said as he led the way through the planted field, stepping carefully between the rows of young corn plants.

“The pond?” She remembered their planned meeting. Should she mention it?

But he didn’t say anything more as they cut through the tall grass and reeds right near the pond. He stopped and put one forefinger to his lips, then pointed with the other to a shady corner on the far side of the pond. “See?” he said.

Shielding her eyes from the sun overhead, Madison peered into the shadows, curious as to what he was looking at. Then she saw them—a mama duck with five or six baby ducklings paddling along the edge of the pond. “Oh, that is so sweet,” she whispered.

“I spotted them this morning.” He led her over to the bench, turning to look into her face. “I was here Sunday night, Anna. But you were not.”

“Oh.” She sighed. “I’m so sorry. I was so tired that night, I fell asleep.”

He chuckled. “That is better than saying you forgot, or that you didn’t care.”

She looked into those sincere blue eyes. “I came here last night.”

He seemed surprised. “You did?”

She nodded. “I did. It was so beautiful. I did not even mind that you weren’t here.”

He frowned. “You didn’t miss me at all?”

She laughed. “Oh,
ja
, I missed you. But I enjoyed just being here, even by myself.”

“I know.” He sat on the bench, patting the spot beside him.

“I looked at the stars,” she admitted as she sat. “And I thought about God. It felt like he was near.”

“That is amazing.”

“I know.” She nodded. “I didn’t expect that.”

“Do you know that is exactly what I did, Anna, when you never came on Sunday night? At first I was disappointed. Then I sat here and I thought about God too. And then I prayed. For the first time since I was a boy, I prayed. I have to say it felt good.”

“It was the first time you’d prayed since you were a boy?”

“
Ja
. When my mother and me left here, I was hurt and angry. I know now I was hurt and angry at some people, but back then I thought it was at God.”

“You’re all right with God now?”

“I am all right with God now, Anna.” He looked directly into her eyes. “I am so all right with God that I told Uncle Andrew I want to be baptized.”

“Baptized?”

“
Ja
.” He reached over and took her hand in his. “You know why, Anna.”

All this was over her head. What was he saying? What did it mean to be baptized, and what did it have to do with her?

“How about you, Anna? Will you be baptized too?”

“I, uh, I don’t know.”

Disappointment washed over his face. “You don’t know?”

“It is much to think about.” She stood.

“
Ja
,
ja
. You are right, Anna. It is much to think about.” His smile returned. “And if Uncle Daniel finds me sitting around like this, I will have much to think about too.”

Madison nodded. “
Ja
,
ja
. I will talk with you later, Malachi.”

His eyes twinkled. “
Ja
, you sure will.”

As Madison hurried back to the house, she was seriously worried. This game had gone too far. It was time to tell Malachi the truth. He trusted her. He deserved her honesty. But what if he was hurt or angry? What if he told his uncles? Then Anna would be in a lot of trouble. Yet by being here, being with him, talking like that—even if no one ever guessed about the switch—she had probably gotten Anna into trouble. The kind of trouble that would catch up with her eventually.

Madison worked hard to clean up the lunch things in the kitchen. Strangely enough, she was taking some of these chores in stride now, like washing the dishes. She had come a long way in a few days.

“You were with Malachi,” Rachel said as she came in the kitchen, pausing to rub her lower back.

“How did you know?”

Rachel laughed. “Our bedroom window. It looks out to pond.”

“Oh.” Madison put the last plate away, then wiped the water off the countertop. “Malachi told me something, Aunt Rachel. You must keep it a secret.” She wasn’t even sure why she was saying to keep it secret, but it seemed necessary.

Rachel’s eyebrows arched. “What is it? Do tell.”

Madison repeated what Malachi had said about asking to be baptized. Rachel’s hand flew up over her mouth and she began to giggle.

“Why is it funny?” Madison asked.

“Oh, you know why. Silly girl.”

Madison already had a bad feeling about this, but it was growing worse by the minute. “Why?”

“You know, Anna.” Rachel gave her a sly look. “A boy must baptize when he wants to marry.”

Madison took in a quick breath. “But not
only
to get married.” Of course, she wasn’t sure about this assumption, but it seemed plausible.

“
Ja
, sure. Malachi tell you this, Anna, because he wants to marry—”

“I can’t—”

“Oh, Anna, I know you grieve Jacob. But in time, your heart . . . it will change. You see.”

Madison shook her head, then dashed out the door. She didn’t want to hear another word about this. Rachel would think she was acting like a drama queen, if there was such a thing in the Amish community. But it was all Madison could come up with at the moment.

She went out to the vegetable garden, bending here and there to pull a weed that Noah must’ve missed, since weeding this garden was one of his chores. This garden amazed Madison. Everything growing in tidy rows—young plants, fresh and green, full of promise. It felt contained and controllable. She would miss it back in Manhattan.

Madison wondered what Anna was doing right now. Had she found her beloved Jacob? If she did find him, what would that mean? Would she entice him to return with her . . . to marry? And what about Malachi? How would he handle it when “Anna” disappeared from his life? Would he regret his baptism? What if he tried to track Anna down, found where she lived, and demanded an explanation? It all made Madison’s head hurt.

This was Anna’s world. Anna would have to deal with this Malachi development later. Maybe she could right now.

Madison glanced over at the barn, wondering if it was too risky. Seeing no one, she decided to take a chance. She would use the phone and call Anna, demanding that they switch places immediately. But when she was almost to the barn, she heard the sound of the horse and buggy. She peeked around to the driveway and saw that Daniel was coming. She would have to call Anna later.

Back in the house, she found Rachel spreading some light blue fabric on the kitchen table. At first she thought it was a tablecloth and was about to ask what the special occasion was since she had never seen anything like that before. Then Rachel laid what appeared to be pattern pieces on the fabric.

“What are you making?” Madison asked.

“You are better now?” Rachel gave her a questioning look.

“
Ja
. I will be all right.”

“It is for Elizabeth.” Rachel stood straight now, rubbing her back. “I wanted to make it before baby comes. Elizabeth is getting big, you know.”

“Want any help?” Madison realized this was a somewhat deranged offer since her sewing skills were sketchy at best. Her old friend Lucinda had taught her to sew when they were in grade school. The goal had been to make designer clothes for their Barbie dolls. Since Lucinda’s mom was just starting her own line of clothing, it seemed feasible. Madison loved picking out the fabrics and dreaming up dresses, but she soon discovered she hadn’t cared for the sewing part. It was painstakingly slow and she usually made mistakes.

With a relieved expression, Rachel handed Madison the scissors. “
Ja
, sure, Anna. You were always better at sewing than me.”

Madison suddenly remembered her supposed brain injury. “I might mess it up.”

“It is all right.” Rachel sat in a chair, leaning back and rubbing her tummy. “I will watch. If you make mistakes, I will tell you.”

With Rachel coaching her along, Madison arranged the pattern pieces. Using table knives as weights to hold the pieces in place, she carefully started to cut out the skirt, sleeves, bodice back, and bodice front. One by one, she set them in a neat pile.

Rachel peered curiously at Madison as she set the scissors aside. “You are much slower than before, Anna.”

“Sorry.” Madison pointed to the side of her head and shrugged.

“It is all right.” Rachel smiled. “You make me feel good—I am not as slow as you.”

Madison chuckled as she followed Rachel into the other room, where she opened up a cabinet containing what appeared to be an ancient sewing machine. Again Madison had to plead loss of memory. She watched as Rachel threaded the machine, paying close attention as she demonstrated how it worked by tapping one’s toes on the rocking foot paddle. This caused the wheel to turn, making the needle go up and down and moving the fabric along. “You remember now?”