Her Restless Heart (10 page)

She didn't tell them that her father had scoffed at her, that he'd proclaimed it a waste of money and a vanity. Instead, she described how she'd started making woven fabric and creating decorative pillows and throws and totes and all kinds of products at Stitches in Time.

A student raised her hand. "I know that shop. I got some material there for my class project."

"My grandmother buys her quilting supplies there," another said.

Another student raised her hand, but the professor asked the class to hold their questions until Mary Katherine was finished.

A bit embarrassed, thinking she should have known to do that, Mary Katherine dropped a couple of her note cards and had to bend to pick them up. Flustered, she found that they were out of order. She wished she had numbered them when she had trouble putting them back in order. Her palms got sweaty and she felt a moment's panic.

Then she remembered what Jacob had said. He was right, she did have a passion for what she did, and that was what she wanted to talk about. Taking a deep breath, she set the cards aside and began telling them how she got her inspiration from nature: how she went for walks in the nearby woods, where she got the idea for a fluffy throw with the delicate green of a fern frond, or a sofa pillow made from wool she twisted into strands of varying shades of brown.

It was a good thing she could see the clock because when she glanced at it her time was nearly up. She concluded by saying that the students were welcome to visit Stitches in Time to watch her weave.

The students applauded and then began pelting her with questions. Surprisingly, they were all on what she'd talked about, without any of them asking about her being Plain. Perhaps that was because so many of them had grown up in the community and saw Plain people so often they didn't regard them as an oddity to be questioned, as the tourists did. Or maybe they felt they'd be intruding.

With an eye on the clock, the professor thanked her, and the students applauded again. Exhilarated at what fun it had been, yet relieved it was over, Mary Katherine watched the students hurry out of the room, talking about their next class or their evening plans.

"Wonderful job," the professor told her, beaming. "I'm so glad you were able to come talk to my students."

"Thank you," Mary Katherine said. "I've never talked in front of a group before. I was so worried!"

"Well, you'd never know you hadn't done it before. I hope you'll consider talking to another class next semester."

"I'd be happy to," Mary Katherine said and meant it.

Students began filing into the room for another class. Mary Katherine quickly gathered up her materials as the professor waited, her briefcase in her hands.

"Susan's waiting downstairs to take you back to the shop."

"
Danki.
I mean, thank you."

"Thank
you.
I'll be seeing you, then." She sighed as she watched students enter a room down the hall. "I'd better go. If I'm late, the students start hoping that I'm not coming and that they can leave after fifteen minutes."

Mary Katherine watched her hurry down the hallway. Leave? These students had a chance to learn fabric arts, and they didn't appreciate it enough to want to sit and wait for their instructor? Why, what she wouldn't give for a chance to learn about creating . . . she stopped so suddenly a student ran into her from behind.

"Sorry," she stammered, but the student had already passed her, a cell phone pressed to her ear, and could be heard talking loudly.

The drive back to the shop was very different from the one to the college. It felt like a great load was lifted off her shoulders. She relaxed in the seat and chatted with Susan.

But when Susan turned down the road that led to Jacob's farmhouse, Mary Katherine couldn't help straightening and looking out her car window. Sure enough, she saw him standing in the fields, looking out at them. She remembered how what he'd said had helped her calm herself when she dropped her cards, how she'd used what he'd said about the passion she had for what she did and that the students would want to hear about that. The success she'd had today had happened because of those words.

She wanted to tell him. Thank him.

"Can you drop me off here?"

"Here?" Susan asked, glancing in her rearview mirror and pulling over to the side of the road. "Is this your house?"

"No, it's a friend's."

"You don't want me to drive you back to the shop?"

"He'll take me."

"He?" Susan grinned at her. "I see."

"Jacob's just a friend."

"Whatever you say."

Mary Katherine colored as she opened her car door.

"Need some help with your stuff?"

Her arms full, Mary Katherine shook her head. "I've got it. Thanks!"

"My pleasure. Take care." She checked for traffic, then pulled back onto the road.

Mary Katherine dumped her things on the porch and then went to find Jacob. He was still standing in his fields, just looking out, relaxed and easy, broad-shouldered and handsome. Carefully she picked her way across the frozen ground, avoiding the ice-crusted ruts and patches of snow.

She called his name. He turned and his face lit up. Her feet faltered, and it seemed for a moment that there must be an earthquake, for she swayed, unsure of her footing.

He was a friend, she'd insisted to Jamie, and to her grandmother and her cousins, too. But as she stood there, staring at him, struck speechless, she realized that everything had changed.

He was everything that she'd resisted—a farmer, tied to the land. And he was so sure of his place here in a way that was totally opposite her own uncertainty.

But she suddenly realized that he was beginning to be more to her—so much more.

Jacob knew the minute he set eyes on Mary Katherine that her talk had gone even better than she'd hoped. Her eyes were sparkling, her cheeks flushed with color. He heard it in her voice when she called his name, saw it in the way she fairly danced across the fields.

But then he saw her nearly trip, and she stood there, staring at him like she'd never done before. Concerned, he hurried toward her, but she shook her head and seemed to recover. He wondered if he'd been mistaken about something being wrong.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, peering around her for a vehicle.

"My ride dropped me off. I wanted to stop by and thank you."

"Thank me for what?"

Hugging herself with excitement, she told him about the talk, about dropping the note cards and panicking. Then she described how she remembered what he'd said and how it had helped her.

He listened, but more, he watched how animated she became as she talked. She was an attractive woman, but before his eyes, she seemed to transform into beautiful. Of course, he didn't prize physical beauty over inner beauty, but it was as if her heart shone in her eyes as she spoke.

"And they loved my designs."

"Who wouldn't?"

Her smile faded. "I'm probably boring you. It's not the kind of thing men are interested in. Matter of fact, most men avoid even walking into the shop."

"Well, you're wrong. I enjoyed hearing about your talk. I'm glad you had such a good time. And I think you should do it again if you're asked."

He saw her shiver. "We should go inside so you don't get chilled and catch a cold."

"You don't catch a cold just because you get cold."

"
Ach,
a few hours spent inside a college classroom and you're so smart, eh?"

She laughed. "
Ya."

"I made some coffee. Let's go inside and have a cup."

He watched her glance around. "We really shouldn't. It could cause talk."

"Then you go sit on the porch, and I'll bring it out."

"Sounds good." She climbed the stairs with him and sat in one of the rocking chairs on the porch.

When he brought out a tray with the coffee, he saw her eyes widen with pleasure.

"That looks good. Did one of your sisters make it?" she asked, pointing at the two squares of streusel-covered coffee cake. "Or your mother?"

"What makes you think I didn't?" he asked her as he handed her a plate.

He frowned when she laughed. "Oh
schur.
I've never known an Amish man to cook."

"Hannah's
mann
does." He set the tray down on the nearby table, took a seat, and picked up his own plate.

"Chris used to be
Englisch.
He learned how to cook before he went into the military and then came here."

She put a bite of coffee cake in her mouth and chewed. Then she raised her eyebrows. "Well, this is good."

"Try not to look so surprised."

"When did you start baking?"

"Well, this is my second attempt. The first one went into the trash. But I've been cooking for myself for a while now." He paused, then forged ahead, telling her what he'd said to his sister.

"I can't believe that," she said. "I've never known you to make an insensitive remark."

"Well, believe it. She invited me to use some salt and pepper on the foot I'd put in my mouth."

"And here I thought you were so wonderful for encouraging me about my talk today."

"
Ya,
well, I guess a guy is less sensitive with his sister than . . ." he hesitated—"his
friend."

Jacob set his empty plate down and picked up his mug. He relaxed in his chair and with the heel of his boot set it rocking.

"What were you doing earlier? When I found you standing in the fields?"

He hesitated, wondering if she'd understand. "I remember my grandfather, then my father walking the fields nearly every day," he told her quietly. "He said the men in the family who took care of the land had always done it. It means a lot that I'm caring for the land that my ancestors settled so many years ago."

"It must be nice to know where you belong."

He glanced at her. "You belong here, too, Mary Katherine."

Jacob watched a shuttered expression come down over her face. He wasn't surprised when, a few minutes later, she asked if he'd give her a ride home.

He parked near the shop and helped Mary Katherine carry in the stuff she'd taken to the college. Naomi came to the door and opened it for them.

"Did you have a good time?"

"It was wonderful! I can't wait to tell you about it."

Naomi took a box from Mary Katherine's arms so she could shed her coat. "Jamie called right after you left. She asked if you were still coming over tonight." Naomi bit her lip. "Mary Katherine, she sounded really upset."

"I'll go give her a call."

"Pizza night?" Jacob asked.

She tilted her head. "Are you hoping you'll get an invitation to join us like last time?"

"Maybe."

"I'd have to ask Jamie."

"I could bring Ben. They seemed to enjoy talking."

Her eyes narrowed. "As long as you're not trying to make this into a date."

"Or a double date?" He held up his hands as she opened her mouth. "Friends. That's all. And good pizza."

"I need to get to work," she said quickly when several people walked past them and entered the shop. "I took time off today—"

"We'll be there at seven," he said. "So if you don't want us to join the two of you, that's fine." He grinned at her. "We won't pressure you to let us join you. Honest."

She laughed. "Okay. And you won't give us sulking looks from across the room?" she found herself teasing.

"I'll try not to. I make no promises for Ben."

9

T
he shop was busy, so there wasn't a spare moment for talk about what had happened at the college for some time after she returned.

It was obviously driving curious Anna crazy. Every time a customer left, she'd turn to Mary Katherine and start to ask a question.

And then another customer would walk in. It was an interesting time, thought Mary Katherine. There was nothing better than a busy spell at the store, but Anna dearly loved being able to talk and the two didn't mix.

So it was a real relief for her when the crowd thinned and they got a few minutes to sit down and chat.

"You look happy," Leah noted as she picked up one of the little cloth Amish dolls she was making.

"It was such fun."

"So it went well, did it?" Anna asked with a smug smile. "I knew you'd do a good job." She sat and began knitting.

"Pride isn't our way," Naomi reminded her. "Mary Katherine might not be baptized, but she knows that."

Mary Katherine glanced over from her loom. "That's right." Calmly, she set her shuttle down. Then she grinned at Annie. "But I have to say that the professor thought I did a good job."

Her smile faded when the bishop walked in. He was dressed in the same black hat and long coat that he'd worn the day they had talked at church. His expression was no less forbidding than it had been on that day.

He glanced over at Mary Katherine, and she started to get up but her grandmother shook her head.

"I'll talk to him," she said.

After exchanging a few words, she indicated with a gesture that said without words that he should look around the shop. She followed behind him as he walked around, pausing to peer over his glasses at each person's work, stopping to frown over Mary Katherine's display.

He turned and said something to Leah, and she straightened and turned to walk toward the door to the back room. He followed her inside, and she shut the door with a snap.

Naomi, Anna, and Mary Katherine exchanged glances.

"What do you suppose that's about?"

"Me," said Mary Katherine.

"You? Why do you say that?"

"He talked to me after church the other day. Wanted to know when I was going to get baptized."

Naomi came over to touch her shoulder. "Did you tell him that you need time to make your decision?"

"
Ya,
he shouldn't be pressuring you about a thing like that!" Anna told her, walking up to stand beside Naomi.

Mary Katherine nodded. "Of course. But he just wanted to pressure me." She glanced at the closed door. "Why is he in there talking to our grandmother? My decision has nothing to do with her."

"I didn't like the way he was walking around glaring at the things we've made," Anna said, frowning.

She stiffened when the back room door opened and the bishop walked out, gave them a sparing glance, then proceeded out the front shop door.

As one, they hurried to find out what had been spoken of behind closed doors.

They found their grandmother sitting at the table, her arms folded across her chest, a mutinous expression on her face.

"
Grossmudder,
I've never seen you look like that," Naomi ventured a bit carefully.

"You sound like Little Red Riding Hood," Anna said.

Mary Katherine ignored her. "Why did the bishop come here today?"

Leah got to her feet. "It was nothing important."

"If it was nothing important, you'd just tell us," Mary Katherine said slowly. "Why was he looking at the things in the shop?"

She watched her grandmother walk to the sink and fill the teakettle. "What makes you think that he wasn't asking when you were going to join the church?" Leah asked her.

"Because he did that after church last week."

Leah nodded. "I know."

"Then what was it?" Anna, always curious and impatient, demanded.

"It doesn't matter since he's not going to influence me."

"Influence you?" Naomi looked at her cousins. "He's trying to make you pressure Mary Katherine?"

"I'm not letting him do that," Mary Katherine began. "I'll go speak to him myself." She reached for her jacket hanging on the peg.

Leah sighed. "No, dear one. He didn't come here to talk about you. Not exactly."

The teakettle whistled. She turned and shut off the flame under it, then poured the hot water into mugs she set in front of them.

When Leah finally sat down, Mary Katherine tensed, and felt her cousins lean forward, waiting to hear their grandmother speak.

Leah took a sip of tea. "The bishop wanted to talk to me about the things we're making," she told them. "He feels we're straying from producing what is traditional for Amish handiwork."

"What?" Anna stared at her, looking incredulous.

Shrugging, Leah took another sip of her tea. "Apparently some of our work is too . . . different."

"He's talking about me. About my weaving," Mary Katherine said. "It's an old craft but I have very new ideas for my patterns."

"Tradition is good," said Leah. "Our lives are full of it. We create something traditional like an old standard quilt pattern or a knitted baby cap that's from the past—started at some point from a new idea by some woman."

"Is he saying he wants us to stop?" Naomi asked.

"I think he was . . . encouraging us to return to the type of goods that used to sell in shops like ours."

"Go back. We're supposed to go back?" Mary Katherine said flatly.

Leah nodded. "He feels we should. We're a symbol of our Plain community to the
Englischers.
His words, not mine," she added quickly when she saw Mary Katherine jump to her feet.

"We're a business, just like so many other businesses run by our community," Mary Katherine told her. "I bet he doesn't try that with some of the men. Does he tell them what to make and what to sell?"

She stopped and took a deep breath. "Okay, that was a dumb question. I know there are rules. But we have both the traditional Amish goods here and some wonderful things like some of Naomi's newer quilt designs and Anna's baby caps."

Picking up one of the caps, she shook her head. "How can you be against a cupcake cap, for goodness sake?"

Anna reached over to take Mary Katherine's hand. "Thanks for defending my cupcake hats."

"It's just like you to make a joke when something turns serious," Naomi said.

A strange expression flitted across Anna's face. She opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, Naomi touched Leah's arm.

"So what's going to happen? Are we going to stop doing what we do? The new things, I mean?"

"No." Leah looked at each of them in turn. "I don't believe we're doing anything wrong, so I don't think we should change anything."

The cousins looked at each other.

"What if he doesn't like that?"

"Then he can take it to the elders."

The bell jangled on the front door. Naomi stood, but Leah shook her head. "I'll get it. I need to do something to work off this—this urge I have to say something not so nice about the bishop!"

Mary Katherine chose to walk to Jamie's apartment. She felt like her grandmother—upset and needing some way to work off her churning emotions.

And she felt some guilt. The bishop had never come to the shop until she'd had that talk with him after church. Her conscience prodded her. Maybe she could have been more polite to him.
Allrecht,
she
should
have been more polite to him. She just hadn't been able to resist behaving the same way to him that she had with another over-bearing authority figure— her father.

Now maybe she'd just made trouble for all of them. She kicked at a stone in her path and watched it skitter ahead of her.

She climbed the stairs to Jamie's apartment and knocked on her door. Then again. When she knocked for the third time, she began to wonder if Jamie wasn't home—if she'd forgotten that they were going to spend the evening together.

Just as she started to knock once more, the door opened.

Jamie stood there dressed in sweats, her hair uncombed, her eyes reddened from crying. "You came."

"I said I would. What's the matter? Aren't you feeling well? Have you got the flu?"

Jamie wiped at her eyes. "No. I'm just upset about something. Listen, give me a minute, and I'll change."

"We don't have to go for pizza!" Mary Katherine called after her.

But Jamie had already entered her bedroom and closed the door. When she came out, she was dressed in jeans and a sweater, her hair was combed, and evidence of crying had been mostly hidden with cosmetics.

"We don't have to go anywhere," Mary Katherine repeated. "We can stay here and talk."

"No, it'll be good for me to get out. Besides, I haven't eaten all day, and now I'm starving."

Mary Katherine told her about how Jacob wanted to join them and hoped to bring Ben along. "I told Jacob I had to ask you, and he said they'd sit at another table if we didn't want company."

"No, it's okay. Jacob really seems to like you. And Ben is cool to talk to. It doesn't hurt that he's cute, too."

"But you have a boyfriend."

Jamie's mouth tightened, and she frowned. "Not anymore."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No, let's go."

They walked to the restaurant, their breath huffing white in the cold air. When they arrived at the restaurant, they saw Jacob and Ben standing outside.

Jamie smiled at them. "So, you two handsome guys want to have pizza with us?"

Mary Katherine's eyes widened. She didn't know any Amish girls who would talk like that.

Ben rushed to hold the door open for them.

"Such a gentleman," Jamie said as she looked at him, and Ben reddened.

Jacob motioned for her and Mary Katherine to precede them into the restaurant.

"You're a gentleman, too," Mary Katherine teased as she walked past them.

"
Ya,
that's me," he said with a grin.

They were seated in a booth, a small one that made Mary Katherine uncomfortably aware of Jacob sitting beside her. She pulled her skirts close to her body, but when her hand accidentally touched his thigh covered in wool fabric there was a crackle of static electricity.

Trying not to look at him, she picked up her menu and studied it. To her mortification, she heard her stomach growl.

Jacob quirked an eyebrow at her.

"I didn't have lunch," she said. "I got back to the shop and we were busy."

"I'd have made you a sandwich instead of coffee cake if I'd known."

"It was good coffee cake."

"
Danki.
I actually enjoyed making it."

She put her elbow on the table and set her chin in her hand. "Maybe you should tell your sister. Maybe she did you a favor." She paused for a moment. "Like that professor did for me by asking me to do something I'd never done before. And now you're cooking, something you never really did much before."

Their eyes met. If there were other people around her, they faded away. She couldn't hear them, couldn't see them.

Then her stomach growled again. Jacob signaled for the server. "Let's get you some food before you fade away before my eyes."

"I'm not some insubstantial miss who's going to fade away."

"No," he said, turning to look at her. "You're perfect to me."

The moment the words slipped out, Jacob wished he could call them back.

"I wish somebody else felt I was perfect," she muttered.

"Yes, can I help you?" the server asked.

He wanted to send her away, but he'd called her over. Besides, Mary Katherine was hungry, and so was he.

They placed their order, and then he looked back at her. She was tracing the circle of condensation on the wooden table left by her glass of water and frowning.

"What was that about wishing somebody thought you were perfect?" he asked her quietly.

She was distracted as Jamie and Ben got up.

Jacob glanced up at them.

"We want to go look at the bakery case," Jamie told them.

Mary Katherine looked relieved to see them leave. "The bishop stopped by the shop after you dropped me off," she said quietly.