[Kentucky Brothers 01] - The Journey (13 page)

F
or the next two weeks whenever Titus had a free moment, he worked on the old buggy he’d found. He still preferred to ride Lightning to work every day, but when it came to grocery shopping or hauling anything big, having a buggy was a good thing.

As Titus made his way to the kitchen one morning, he felt thankful once again for all the repairs and cleaning that had been done to the trailer. He’d met so many good people the day of the work frolic and again the next day when they’d met for church at the bishop’s house.

This coming Saturday would be his day off, and he thought he might like to saddle Lightning and take a ride for a better look around the area. It would be good to do something fun for a change. His new job was working out well, and both Isaac and Nelson seemed to be pleased with Titus’s carpentry skills. Unless he messed up and did something stupid, it looked like his position in the woodshop would be permanent.

A knock sounded on the door, and Titus went to see who it was. When he opened it, he was surprised to see Suzanne standing on the porch, holding a flat of primroses.

“I thought you might like to have a little color in your front flower bed,” she said. “Even though the weeds are gone, it looks kind of bare.”

“I guess it does.” He scuffed the toe of his boot along the threshold, not knowing what else to say. By now he ought to be used to seeing Suzanne, since she often came out to the woodshop to sweep the floors or bring them lunch. But each time he saw her, she either said or did something to irritate him. Was it because seeing her still made him think of Phoebe?

“So, is it all right if I plant the flowers?” Suzanne asked.

“Sure.” He turned and was about to step back into the house, when she said, “Have I done something to offend you, Titus?”

Titus whirled around and blinked a couple of times. The sunlight brought out the glints of gold in Suzanne’s auburn hair. “Wh–what do you mean?” he stuttered.

“You usually don’t say more than a few words to me, and when you do, you rarely look right at me.”

He forced himself to meet her gaze. “I’m lookin’ at you now.”

She gave a nod. “I might think you were still irritated about the lemonade bath I gave you the day of the work frolic, but you’ve acted strangely toward me since the first day we met, and I’d like to know why.”

Her piercing blue eyes seemed to bore right through him, and he quickly looked away. “I’ve forgotten all about the lemonade.”

“See, you’re doing it again. You’re not looking at me when I’m talking to you.”

Titus turned his head and looked her right in the eye. “Is that better?”

“Jah.”

“Okay,” he said, then drew in a quick breath. “You have done a few things to irritate me, but the real reason it’s hard for me to look at you is because you remind me of someone. Someone I’m trying to forget.”

“Who?”

“Her name’s Phoebe Stoltzfus—the girl I used to court in Pennsylvania.” He frowned. “I thought she was going to marry me, but she took off for California with one of her girlfriends instead.”

“Is Phoebe Amish?”

He pushed his hands against the doorjamb so hard that his knuckles turned white. “She was raised Amish, but she’s never joined the church. Phoebe started running around even before she turned sixteen, and I’m pretty sure she’s gonna go English.”

“How old is Phoebe now?”

“Eighteen.”

“She’s still pretty young. Maybe she’ll change her mind and return to Pennsylvania and join the church.”

“I doubt it. She’s been stringing me along since she was thirteen.”

Suzanne’s eyebrows squeezed together. “You’ve been interested in the same girl since you were thirteen?”

He shook his head. “I was seventeen when Phoebe was thirteen, and I waited for her until she turned sixteen, so we could start courting.” He stabbed the side of the door with the toe of his boot. “For all the good it did me.”

“It’s no surprise that it didn’t work out. She was practically a child when you became interested in her.”

“That’s what my folks and her folks thought, too. I figure she must be pretty immature even now if she ran off to California without caring at all what I thought.”

“Maybe she wasn’t the right girl for you.”

“Now you sound like my folks. I don’t think Mom or Dad ever liked Phoebe. They tried to discourage me from the very beginning, and so did Phoebe’s folks.”

“I don’t mean to sound like your folks. I just think you might need to find someone who’s more mature and settled. Someone like—”

“I might do that if I can find the right woman. I’d like to make sure my job is secure and that I have a home of my own before I think about finding a wife and settling down, though. Need to prove to my family that I can measure up.”

“Measure up?”

“To my twin brother, Timothy. He’s been doing all the right things since he got out of school. Went to work right away for our older brother Zach; later bought a house with some land he could farm; then found a good woman and got married. He and Hannah have a daughter and another baby on the way.” Titus tugged his left ear lobe. “Timothy’s way ahead of me. I might never get married, much less own a place of my own.” He gestured to the trailer. “Might spend the rest of my days rentin’ some place like this.”

Before Suzanne could respond, Callie leaped onto the porch, darted between Titus’s legs, and raced into the kitchen.

Titus grunted. “Stupid critter seems determined to get in. If you had to haul a cat over here, couldn’t you at least have picked one that’s content to be outside?”

Suzanne frowned. “Callie is usually content to be outside, but if you’ve been having problems with mice, then I would think you’d want to allow the cat in the house.”

“Cats belong outdoors.” Titus stepped back inside, grabbed the broom, and chased the cat out the door.

“You don’t have to be so mean,” Suzanne said with a huff.

“I’m not mean. Just don’t want to pick the critter up and take the chance of getting bit again. Besides, a little push with the broom won’t hurt her any.”

“Maybe not, but I’m sure you scared the poor thing. You’ll never make friends with the cat if you chase her around with a broom.”

“Who says I want to make friends with the critter?”

Suzanne glared at him. “I don’t have time to stand here and debate this with you. Do you want me to plant the flowers I brought or not?”

“Go right ahead.” Titus quickly shut the door.

“That man is so rude,” Suzanne fumed as she carried the flat of primroses to the flower bed. Obviously Titus didn’t know how to care for a cat.

Should I take Callie back?
Suzanne glanced around but saw no sign of the cat. After Titus had chased Callie with the broom, she’d disappeared behind the barn.
Maybe when I’m done planting these flowers I’ll look for her
, she decided.

Suzanne grabbed the shovel she’d brought along and stabbed it into the hard ground, twisting it angrily.
Callie isn’t the only thing Titus doesn’t appreciate. He obviously didn’t appreciate me bringing over these flowers because he didn’t even say thanks. Makes me wonder if his folks taught him anything about manners and how to treat other people. Is it any wonder his girlfriend ran off to California? She was probably tired of his bad attitude. Humph! I think I should speak to Esther about Titus and let her know what he’s really like
.

Suzanne had just finished planting the primroses when she heard a pathetic, muffled-sounding
meow
. She glanced to her left and saw Callie rolling in the grass with her head stuck in a soup can.

“Ach, my!” Suzanne jumped up and rushed over to the cat. She tried to pull the can off, but Callie wouldn’t hold still. It was going to take two people to free the poor cat—one to hold Callie and one to pull on the can.

Suzanne hurried across the yard and knocked on the trailer door. Titus pulled the door open a few seconds later. “Are you done planting the flowers?” he asked.

She gave a nod. “But I need your help. Callie has a soup can stuck on her head.”

He lifted his shoulders in a brief shrug. “What do you want me to do about it?”

“I want you to help me get the can off.”

“If she got it on, she ought to be able to get it off.”

“I don’t think so, and we can’t just leave her like that. Please, Titus, you’ve got to help me get that can off.”

“Oh, all right.” Titus stepped off the porch, and Suzanne followed him into the yard, where the pathetic cat was still thrashing about. He bent down, yanked on the can, and it lifted Callie right off the ground. Her claws came out, and he let out a shriek. “Stupid katz clawed a hole in my shirt, and now I think my chest is bleeding!”

“Set the cat down and let me see.” Suzanne wasn’t sure whom to be more concerned about: Titus, or the poor cat, stuck in a can.

Titus shook his head. “I’m fine. I’ll tend to my scratches later.” But he did place Callie on the ground.

“Have you got any metal cutters?” she asked. “I think we need some in order to cut the can off Callie’s head.”

“I think I saw an old pair of tin snips in the barn,” he said. “You keep an eye on the cat and make sure she doesn’t run away while I go look for ‘em.”

When Titus entered the barn, he found the tin snippers hanging on a nail. He pulled them down, and then slipped on a pair of heavy-duty gloves, as well as a jacket to protect himself.

“Sure don’t know why I’m doin’ this,” he muttered. “I don’t even like cats.”

When Titus returned to the yard, he found Suzanne squatted down beside Callie, who was squirming around as she pawed frantically at the can that held her captive. “I’ve got the snippers,” he announced. “I’ll slip around front and try to cut her free.”

Suzanne’s eyes narrowed. “You’re going to use that old rusty-looking cutter?”

“Sure, why not?”

“It really looks dull. Probably wouldn’t cut a stick of butter.”

“Well, it’s the only pair I could find.” Titus knelt on the grass in front of the cat.

“She’s scared and might not cooperate with you,” Suzanne said. “Maybe I should try and hold her.”

Titus shook his head. “We know that’s not going to work. She’s too upset. Just leave her on the ground, put your hand on her back, and I’ll see if I can cut the can off.”

As Titus began clipping at the can, the cat flipped her head from side to side.

“Be careful; you might cut Callie’s head.” The panic in Suzanne’s voice let Titus know how worried she was about the cat.

“I’m being as careful as I can, but it would help if she’d just hold still.” He gritted his teeth as he continued to cut.

Finally, with one last snip, Callie was free. She shook her head a few times, and growled, crouching low to the ground. Looking up at Titus, she hissed as though threatening him. Then with a high-pitched meow, she darted for the barn.

“Stupid critter,” Titus muttered. “She acts like I’m the one who put the can on her head.” He stomped on the can and shouted at the cat’s retreating form, “Don’t play with cans, you ungrateful katz!”