Katie's Way (15 page)

“What a day. More rain than we need, for sure.” Isaac, the eldest of the cousins and William's older brother, shook the water from his hat. His florid face creased with concern. “If the ground doesn't dry out soon, we'll have trouble with the first hay cutting in the south field.”

“Ja, it's a bog in there.” Isaac's oldest, another Caleb, was generally called Cal to avoid confusion. He was married now, but he still helped his father work the home farm.

Andy joined in with a comment about planting, and for a few minutes the conversation centered on the growing season. Caleb found himself in his usual position of watching and listening, a little apart from the group even when it was family.

Not that he wasn't interested in farming . . . he helped Andy as needed, of course. But Isaac tended to dominate any conversation he was in. A good man, in his way, but a bit bossy.

Someone else was a quiet onlooker, as well. William sat on the work bench, hands linked closely in his lap. He seemed to be studying the kitchen chair that lay on the bench, its leg a victim of some roughhousing by the ten-year-old twins. Caleb moved next to him. “Andy told Nancy he'd have that fixed by today. I should have just gone ahead and done it.”

William's solemn face relaxed in a smile. “Ja, I know wh-what you mean. Anything g-g-gets broken at Isaac's place, it's for me. Isaac knows the horses and the d-dairy cows, not woodworking.”

“. . . wish I could convince Rachel to sell her place to me, so I'd have it for one of my boys.” Isaac was talking about Rachel Zook, his former sister-in-law. It always rankled with Isaac that his brother had died and left the property to Rachel.

“S-she wants it f-f-for—” William began.

“Everyone knows she says she's hanging on to it for her boy,” Isaac snapped, cutting William off as he always seemed to. “Even so, she might give some thought to us. My brother would have been pleased to have one of his nephews own the farm.”

Since it was impossible to know the truth of that, no one could argue.

“Or he might have wanted William to farm it,” Caleb said, more because Isaac's treatment of William annoyed him than because of anything else.

“William!” Isaac puffed out his cheeks. “That's nonsense.”

It made as much sense as anything to Caleb, but there was little point in starting an argument. “Ja, well, I suppose you couldn't get along without William at your place.”

“William's a gut helper,” Isaac said. “Course, with my boys getting old enough to be more help . . .” He stopped short.

Still, it was enough. William had said something of the kind the day he'd helped Caleb move the chest. Caleb glanced at the boy. No, not a boy. William was a man grown, even though his beardless face and the shy manner that went with his stammer made him seem younger than he was.

Caleb's gaze caught Andy's for a moment, and he knew Andy was thinking what he was—that Isaac wasn't doing right by his youngest brother. Too bad William didn't have the kind of relationship with Isaac that he had with Andy.

Caleb cleared his throat, interrupting Isaac's monologue on the correct time to plant corn. “That being the case, I wonder if William might be free to work a few days a week for me. I could use the extra help.”

That wasn't as true as he'd like it to be. Still, he couldn't deny that it would be helpful to have someone else turning out things like the quilt racks and smaller items so he could concentrate on bigger projects.

Isaac looked startled, and not very pleased with him. But then, Isaac didn't like any idea he hadn't come up with himself.

“That's for William to say,” Andy said before Isaac could speak. “But it surely would be a help to Caleb. What do you say, William?” Andy put the decision in William's hands, bypassing Isaac neatly, and Caleb felt a surge of gratitude for his brother.

William's color came up at being deferred to, but the look he turned on Caleb was lit with enthusiasm. “Ja, I would like that fine. If Isaac can spare me.”

Isaac shrugged. He could hardly back down now, since he'd already implied that he didn't need William's help. “It's nothing to do with me. Do it if you want.”

“Gut.” Caleb clapped William on the shoulder. “We won't talk business on the Sabbath, but komm over on Monday, if you want.”

The dinner bell clamored on the back porch, no doubt rung by one of the boys with more energy than skill. It cut off the thanks William was trying to stammer out, and they all moved, shoulders hunching as they stepped into the rain again.

Caleb pulled his coat higher, trying to keep the rain from dripping down the back of his neck. First Becky, and now William. What had possessed him? He'd always valued the solitude of the shop, and now here he was, giving that away.

But it wasn't Becky or William who'd broken through first. It was Katie. And that hadn't turned out so bad, had it? No sooner had he thought that than a sense of shock went through him. Was he really saying that he liked having Katie Miller as part of his life?

The noise that accompanied a big family meal effectively prevented him from thinking too much for the next hour. Once they'd eaten their way through roast chicken and ham, along with mashed potatoes, dried corn, and the dozen side dishes Nancy considered sufficient for company, everyone was too full to think of anything but sitting down. But Nancy had decided they would have homemade ice cream for dessert, and there was no getting out of it.

Ordinarily they'd do the ice cream on the porch, so the kinder could run around and play, taking an occasional turn with the crank. In view of the rain, Caleb and Andy had set the ice-cream maker up in the laundry room Daadi had built onto the back of the house years ago. That was the easiest place to clean after a messy job. Nancy mixed up the batch, using the last of the peaches she'd canned in the fall.

At first, the young ones clamored to help, but soon they tired of it. Finally Caleb was alone, sitting on a stool next to the barrel holding the ice, feeling the crank turn harder and harder as the ice cream thickened. It was nice, sitting here by himself for a bit. The rain on the tin roof was loud enough to mask the noise from the house, and he took pleasure in the rhythmic turns of the handle.

The door opened, and Becky slipped in, closing it behind her.

“Not quite ready yet,” he said.

“I know.” She slid a stool next to his. “I just wanted to keep you company, Onkel Caleb.”

“That's as gut a treat as ice cream,” he said.

The barrel rocked a bit with his effort, and Becky grabbed the sides to steady it. “That was a nice thing you did for William.”

“He's a gut man with wood, and he'll be better with some practice.”

“Ja, I know.” She stared at the ice-cream cylinder. “A lot of folks don't understand what it's like if you don't talk easily.”

He glanced at her. It sounded as if Becky was speaking about herself, not William.

“Ja, maybe that's so,” he said cautiously. If Becky wanted to talk, he would listen, whether he could help or not.

“That's what is so nice about having Rhoda for my friend. It seems like she understands me better than girls I've known all my life. They just think, oh, she's shy, and don't bother to try and find out what I think, but Rhoda's different.” Becky looked at him, eyes shining. “That's why I know how William must feel about you being his friend.”

Caleb put his arm around her shoulders, and she tilted her head against him in a gesture of trust.

He dropped a light kiss on her head, touched by her confiding in him. “Denke, Becky. And now I think this ice cream is about ready. Will you ask your daad to help me get it out?”

She nodded, going quickly to the door, her step light. His heart wrenched a bit when she looked back at him and smiled.

He'd like fine to have a daughter like Becky, but that couldn't be. He'd decided a long time ago that it was better to be alone than to share his days with someone you couldn't trust completely.

He was satisfied with his life. He didn't want any changes. But somehow, changes were being pushed on him, whether he wanted them or not.

 

 

The
rain still poured down when Katie and Rhoda reached home after spending Sunday afternoon with Molly and Jacob and their family, so Katie drove straight to the stable.

“You can go on inside if you want.” Katie slid down and hurried to unhitch the mare. “No sense both of us getting wet.”

“I'm already wet,” Rhoda said, grasping the harness on the other side. “But not so wet as Daisy. You're a gut girl, aren't you?” She patted the animal, and Daisy turned her head and whickered.

“There, see, she knows what you're saying,” Katie said. She and Rhoda agreed that the little mare had to be one of the smartest horses they knew. “Ach, let's get her in.”

With two of them working, it took less than no time to finish the job. They rubbed the mare down, one on either side, working companionably.

This was gut, being together. Rhoda had had her ups and downs, and probably still would. That was in the nature of being sixteen. But she was settling down, and seemed happy here. This morning she'd been as cheerful as could be, as if she'd totally forgotten her upset last night.

“You know, I'm ser glad you're here.” Katie turned the mare into her stall while Rhoda poured a scoop of oats into the feed bucket.

Rhoda's lips quirked. “You didn't think that at first, ain't so?”

“Maybe not.” Katie smiled. “But I have to admit, it's really nice having you around.”

Rhoda gave the mare a final pat. “I like it, too.”

They reached the stable door and stood for a moment, watching the downpour while Katie opened the large black umbrella.

“Look how high the creek is.” Rhoda took a step closer to Katie, nodding toward the stream behind the barn, and Katie put her arm around her sister's waist.

“Ja, I know. But I think I'm more worried about how the water is pooling next to the back of the house.” That spreading pool hadn't been there when they'd left this morning, had it? Surely she'd have noticed.

“Is that bad?”

Katie's first instinct was to deny it, but she quickly realized how silly that was. Rhoda was a part of the business now, and old enough to help face any problem.

“It could be. Let's get inside. We'd best check the basement.”

Together they ran for the house. The umbrella helped, but the cold rain still blew at them, and water splashed up at every step.

They were inside in a moment, and Katie tried to shake off the chill. She grabbed a flashlight. Jerking open the cellar door, she directed the beam downward.

A pond of water spread there, too, dangerously close to a carton of felt squares she hadn't unpacked yet. Dismayed, she hurried down the steps.

She reached the carton, and tried to pick it up while holding the flashlight on it. Water lapped at her shoes.

“I've found the battery lantern.” Rhoda scurried down the stairs, bringing light with her. “Ach, what should we do first?”

“Take this upstairs.” Katie thrust the box into her hands. “We'll have to try and get everything off the floor.”

“What about Caleb's things?”

Katie swung her flashlight beam toward the other side of the cellar. Caleb had wood and some unfinished pieces on the floor where the water might reach them, but most of his supplies were stored on shelves he'd probably built himself.

“His, too, but we must get the fabric first. It will be ruined faster by the water.”

Katie lifted a carton, not even sure what it contained. She should have finished unpacking these boxes and had shelves put up. She hadn't, and now she would pay for that.

Two more loads up, but the water was moving faster than they were. Katie paused to take a breath, her mind working feverishly.

“Ach, this is not doing it. We have to find a way to slow the water down. Run and get the mops and that box of cleaning cloths.”

Rhoda, her face intent, nodded and raced back up the stairs.

Water coming from the other end of the back wall crept closer to a quilt stand. Katie hurried over, grabbed it, and hoisted it onto Caleb's shelves, standing on tiptoe to try to push it in. But the legs kept catching on something.

The door at the top of the stairs creaked open again.

“Rhoda, hurry and help me with this.”

“It's not Rhoda. It's me.” Caleb thudded down the stairs. He reached over her head to shove the quilt rack into place. “Denke, Katie. You should not be worrying about my things.”

He seemed to tower over her as he stood close to reach up. She could feel his nearness, and his size and his warmth took her breath away. She stepped back.

“What are you doing here? Did you see Rhoda?”

“Ja, I sent her to Bishop Mose's place. He'll get some help and be here in a couple of minutes, I'm sure.”

Katie hadn't even thought of that, but of course Bishop Mose would be concerned. It was his building.

“But how did you know something was wrong?” She seized one end of a board that was about to be drenched, and Caleb took the other. Together they lifted it to the shelves.

“I got worried. We haven't had a steady rain like this in a long spell, and with the ground already saturated from the other day, it seemed like we might have problems.”

Without asking, Caleb crossed to her side and began picking up boxes, carrying them over to his shelves.