Her Restless Heart (7 page)

She glanced up when he didn't speak. "I won't tell," she said, smiling.

He watched the dimple that flashed in her cheek and wondered how he could find a way to spend more time with her as he tucked his wallet away.

But just as he opened his mouth to ask if she'd like to have supper with him, the door to the back room opened and Naomi, Anna, and Leah came walking out. With a sigh he quickly repressed when Mary Katherine glanced up at him, he gathered up his packages and prepared to leave.

"Do you want me to wrap the cookbook?"

"
Nee,"
he said. "It's not for a gift. Thanks for the help." He touched the brim of his hat to the others. "
Gut-n-owed."

Mary Katherine caught the almost avaricious look on Anna's face and knew for certain that an inquisition would ensue shortly.

"Let me help you out to your buggy with these," she said brightly, reaching behind her for a shawl hung near the door.

"I don't—" he started to say, but she slid her eyes toward the others, then gave him a beseeching look.

"
Danki,
I appreciate that," he said.

She quickly plucked up the cookbook she'd tucked into a shopping bag and marched toward the door.

"What was that about?" he asked the moment they were outside.

"Anna has been after me about why your sisters and mother were in this week," she said, taking a deep breath of the cold air.

Jacob knew why, but he couldn't tell her. "She was always relentless, even as a little girl."

"You remember Anna well," she said, laughing, and they shared a grin. "I won't escape the grilling she'll give me about why one more Miller came to the shop. I've merely postponed it. But at least I got away from her for a while."

He placed the big box in the buggy, then turned to take the bag containing the cookbook from her. Their hands touched.

"I know you said you don't date, but friends can have supper together, can't they?"

Her smile faded as she caught his seriousness. "Yes," she said slowly. "I suppose so."

"Maybe we can have supper some night?"

She nodded.

He grinned. "Great. Maybe Friday?"

"I'm probably going out with Jamie on Friday. It's a regular thing for us lately."

"For pizza?"

"I—I don't know."

"I wouldn't crash your supper."

"No?"

He shook his head, and his grin faded. "No. If you want to see me, you know where to find me."

"
Ya,"
she said, nodding, not smiling herself now. Something had passed between them, something she hadn't felt before. "
Ya,
I do."

He climbed into his buggy and leaned back against the cushions. "
Gut-n-owed."

Mary Katherine sat at the table in the back room, glumly studying her notes.

What makes you think you can talk to a class? A college class?

She jerked her head up and glanced around. But she was alone in the room.

Think you're too good to work on a farm, do you?

No need to look up and around to see who spoke. She recognized the voice now. It was her father's. He'd chastised her for years for the way her teacher said she daydreamed in class, even though she'd overheard him saying he hadn't done well in
schul
himself.

But he
had
repeatedly criticized her for not liking work on the farm and seemed to dole out the most unpleasant chores to her, to the point where she'd stopped complaining.

Her grandmother had saved her by bringing her to work at Stitches in Time.

"What's all this?" Naomi asked as she entered the back room of the shop.

Mary Katherine moved some of her papers so that Naomi could join her at the table.

"I'm making notes for my talk."

"Ah, yes, the talk. I'm sure you'll do a fine talk."

"I'm not so sure," Mary Katherine muttered, frowning at what she'd scribbled on index cards. "I'm no speaker."

"No," Naomi agreed. She held up her hand and smiled when her cousin jerked to attention. "But you're a natural-born teacher. I saw how you taught that little girl how to make a potholder one day. And you're always explaining to people how to weave when they stop and ask questions. I think you love it."

"I love to talk to people about what I love to do," Mary Katherine pointed out, meeting her cousin's gaze. "I don't know how many of the students in the fabric arts class are that interested in weaving."

"I'd imagine the professor wouldn't have asked you if she thought you'd bore her class. And they're students interested in making clothes and such. Some of them might be very interested."

Mary Katherine nodded. "I hope you're right. But if I see the students dozing off, I'm going to stop."

Naomi laughed. "Okay, I don't see that happening, but if they do,
ya,
I guess it'd be a good idea to turn the class back to the professor. I'm sure she'll know how to deal with it."

Propping her elbow on the table, Mary Katherine rested her chin in her hand and glumly studied her notes.

What makes me think I can talk to a college class?
she asked herself.
I'm no expert.

"Stop worrying," Naomi said, and on her way out the door, she stopped to lean down and kiss the top of Mary Katherine's head. "You'll do fine."

"Do fine at what?"

Mary Katherine looked up. "Hannah!" She glanced at the clock. "Is it that time already?"

"Beginner's quilting at 2 p.m. and Advanced at 3." Hannah, who taught quilting at the shop, shed her coat and bonnet, hung them, then returned to the kitchen table.

"How is Chris?"

Hannah frowned. "He had to go to a funeral. Friend of his in the service. He'll be home this evening." She sighed as she eased down into a chair and rested her hand on her abdomen. "Phoebe is watching the
kinner."

"You glow."

"I always feel like a whale at this stage, but thanks."

"You really enjoy teaching, don't you?"

She nodded. "It surprised me. I'd never thought about it, but then Leah needed someone when Fannie Mae couldn't do the classes anymore." She leaned forward to study the index cards spread over the surface of the table. "What's this?"

"I've been invited to talk to a fabric arts class at the community college."

Hannah's face lit up. "Oh, that's
wunderbaar!
You're going to talk to them about weaving?"

"If I don't die of anxiety first."

"You're a natural-born teacher. And a self-taught weaver."

"Naomi was in here cheering me on earlier. Now you. If I can just take the two of you with me on that day, maybe I'll do okay."

Hannah patted her hand. "You'll do fine." She hauled herself to her feet. "Time for class."

"Heard there was hot tea in here."

"Jenny!" Mary Katherine smiled at her cousin Matthew's wife.

"Am I interrupting?" Jenny gestured at the note cards.

"
Nee,
come on in." She gathered up the cards, bound them with a rubber band, and set them aside.

Jenny placed the folder she carried on the table, then walked to the stove. She held up a mug, asking Mary Katherine if she wanted more tea before pouring some for herself and coming over to sit down.

She'd been a ghost of the woman she was now when she came here to Paradise to live with her grandmother. The bombing that had ripped at her body had scarred her soul as well, Mary Katherine knew. But as she renewed her relationship with Matthew—they'd fallen in love as teenagers here but been yanked apart by her father—Jenny had healed emotionally as well as physically. She had married Matthew, and just a few years ago, had even experienced what many thought was one of God's miracles when she had a baby.

She carried a quiet contentment now, a serenity and inner spirit of joy that was more than physical beauty. Mary Katherine envied—just a little—that surety of purpose Jenny carried. Inside, Mary Katherine felt like a big jumble of questions and indecision.

"How's Gabriel?"

Jenny beamed, and her gray eyes sparkled. "Such a happy
kind.
It's hard to believe he's one year old already." She glanced at the folder she had placed on the table. "Thought I'd work while Hannah teaches her class. As long as I'm not bothering you?"

"No, I was just taking a break to work on something for a few minutes. Did you come here with her?" The two women lived next door to each other and had grown as close as sisters since Jenny married Hannah's brother.

She nodded. "I promised Chris I'd keep an eye on her while he's out of town. You remember how she started bleeding when she went into labor last time."

Mary Katherine nodded. Hannah might have lost her baby if a man hadn't come along and delivered the baby—a man who had caused her and her husband, Chris, a lot of trouble.

"Can I ask you something?" Mary Katherine blurted out.

"Sure."

"I heard you used to work on television when you were
Englisch,
before you joined the Amish church. You were a reporter?"

"Yes, I remember those days well." She glanced down at her Plain clothes and smiled ruefully. "I bet people would really be surprised at how I look now. On the other hand, so many people are fascinated by the Amish these days . . ." her voice trailed off, and she became lost in thought.

She shook her head. "I'm sorry, I got sidetracked there for a minute. I guess I really need some caffeine to stay awake today. I was up late last night—the book deadline looms. Anyway, you asked me about being on television?"

"Were you ever nervous?"

Jenny laughed. "Oh, my, yes! I didn't ever think of myself as a reporter. I just wanted to get the story out about how children were being affected by war overseas. Are you making notes for a talk?" she asked, glancing at the index cards.

Mary Katherine looked at them and shivered. "This professor wants me to talk about my weaving to her class. I can't imagine talking to a lot of people."

"I never thought about how many people might be listening to me," Jenny told her seriously. "That would have scared me to death. I just talked to one person—the cameraman."

"But you had an important message." Mary Katherine got up and paced around the room. "You were passionate about it, and for good reason. It's not like I have some great purpose here with my talk."

"You're passionate about weaving, and for good reason. You're good at it, you're creative, and the things you create help someone make their home a warmer, brighter place."

Jenny tilted her head. "Look, I don't want to talk badly about your father, but I hear things and I wonder if your self-esteem isn't suffering a little from all his criticism."

Self-esteem? That wasn't a term used often in the Plain community. Mary Katherine barely knew what it was. She knew she felt bad when he criticized her, and here, in the shop, she felt free and appreciated—and not just because the occasional customer admired her work or even bought it.

"The class probably won't be expecting you to be some practiced speaker," Jenny pointed out. "They'll appreciate hearing how you learned, how you work."

Mary Katherine acknowledged that with a nod and returned to sit at the table.

"And when it comes time to talk, do what I did when I had to talk to a group," Jenny suggested. "Focus at first on one person who has what I call 'kind' eyeballs."

"What are those?"

Jenny grinned. "You know. Someone who looks encouraging, who seems really interested in hearing what you have to say. Like this." She mimed interest by placing her arms on the table, leaning forward, and gazing at Mary Katherine with wide eyes, her mouth hanging open just a bit, her jaw slightly slack.

Mary Katherine stared at Jenny for a moment and then collapsed into giggles. "Kind eyeballs, eh?" she managed to say between giggles. "I'm not sure you look smart enough to be in the class."

Getting to her feet, she picked up Jenny's cup, warmed it up with more hot coffee, and set it before her. "Here, have some more caffeine. As Jamie, my
Englisch
friend, would say, you are losing it."

"I haven't met her. At least I don't remember meeting her."

Mary Katherine laughed. "You'd remember if you had. Jamie's rather colorful. This week she has a purple streak in her hair."

Her smile faded as she traced her finger on the wooden grain of the table. "Jenny?"

"Yes?"

She bit her lip and lifted her eyes to meet Jenny's. "May I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"I'm used to seeing Plain people leaving—"

"But not an
Englischer
like me—or Chris—coming to stay?" Jenny smiled and nodded.

"
Ya.
And you seem happy here. Even with all the rules. The lack of things like a computer to write with," she said, waving her hand at the notepad in front of Jenny.

"Well, I always liked writing by hand, but I know what you mean. It seems backward to you for me to leave what I had and move here. But you see, things weren't important to me. I met this man and his three children, and we became a family. And then along came another special little someone and, well . . . what more could I want?"

Jenny reached out and touched Mary Katherine's hand. "I'm not suggesting that all you have to do is meet the right man and everything will be fine. You have to know who you are and what you want first. I know you still don't know if joining the church and living here is right for you. Only you can decide that. Well, you and God."