Pennsylvania Patchwork (11 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY

Esther watched Larry's rental speed out of sight, carrying her Nathaniel away. She waved, but neither he nor Larry waved back. She could make out Nathaniel's tall silhouette, and wondered if she should have tagged along. No, a ridiculous idea. Nathaniel's cousin wouldn't appreciate her presence, nor would the bishop deem it proper to have her interfere.

Waiting on Nathaniel's porch earlier, she hadn't kissed him good-bye or offered words of assurance. “I'll pray for you,” she'd finally said as he got in the car, but he hadn't acknowledged her remark.

As she hiked along the roadside toward home, troubling notions wormed through her brain. In the past, Esther had wondered why Nathaniel's wife was never located. Had someone dragged her lifeless body to shore and buried her, or had the river's current swooped her under a logjam where she'd been devoured by wild animals and fish? Nathaniel must have envisioned these morbid scenarios a thousand times, just as she was tormented by her Samuel's disappearance in Vietnam. And now a doll and silk fabric had appeared, as if taunting her and prodding her once more to accept her role in his death.

When she became baptized into the Amish church, she would kneel before the bishop, ministers, and the whole congregation, and admit her multiple sins on bended knees. Then, maybe, she'd feel the weight of guilt lifted. She'd proclaimed to believe God forgives our sins, and had been assured by her pastor back home the Lord is all-merciful when we renounce our discretions and turn to him, yet Esther felt as if her foot were trapped in a snare, eternally anchoring her to another era.

A horse and gray covered buggy passed by, and the bearded driver tipped his hat as if he recognized her. She wondered if that same Amishman would wave at her once he learned how she'd beguiled Samuel during his
Rumspringa
—a time for young people to explore the world before joining the church. Most of the young folk their age had stuck close to home, but Esther had discarded
das alt Gebrauch
—the old ways. She'd had the gall to talk Samuel into hitchhiking to California to see the Pacific Ocean with her. She'd unveiled her hair for all the world to ogle, he'd played a guitar, and they'd sung for change, dabbled with alcohol and marijuana—every segment of their vulgar escapade against the teachings of the Ordnung. Ach, Esther was the catalyst behind his demise.

She'd seen the People forgive atrocities, but wondered if they'd accept her. When Nathaniel heard every detail, would he still love her? That is, if he were free to marry. In the next couple days, his own nightmare might come to light, as if embers smoldering in a fire pit bursting into flames.

The chill morning air spurring her on, she rounded Mamm's house, entered the barnyard, and saw Armin leaving through the back door and meandering down the stairs as if he hadn't a care in the world.

“Hullo, Esther,” he said, and his dog barked. “Quiet, Rascal.”

The dog sat obediently, but pretty as it was, Esther didn't trust the animal around their chickens, not after what Nathaniel had told her.

She strode over to Armin. “What are you doing here, when you should have been wishing Nathaniel well and saying good-bye?”

“Nah, my brother doesn't like a fuss made over him.”

She stood in front of Armin, out of the dog's reach. “Maybe you're right.” Behaving as though she knew Nathaniel better than Armin did was ludicrous.

“And he'd get all over my case for not working.” Armin transferred his weight back and forth. “Work, work, work is all he does.”

“That's no way to speak about your brother the minute he's gone.” Esther felt like a snapping turtle; a boy was prodding her with a stick. “Where's your respect?”

“I do respect him in many ways, but he's always griping at me for something. I've got to wonder if he really wants me around, since I'm such an irritant.”

“I'm sure he appreciates your help.” Nathaniel did seem a mite too hard on his younger brother. Apparently, Armin had broken their mother's heart, exactly what Esther had done. Esther wondered if Armin's on-the-fence behavior had instigated the animosity.

“He's got a funny way of showing it.” Armin turned away from her and strode into the barn, his shoulders erect, his hat set at an angle. He certainly didn't lack confidence, even if Nathaniel had described him as mouthy when the two of them were alone. Maybe Mamm was correct when she suggested Armin would make Holly's ideal spouse. Neither Armin nor Holly had joined the Amish church, so at this juncture they could wed. On the other hand, Armin could easily take baptism classes, but Esther figured the chance of Holly's living a plain life and becoming baptized was slim indeed. Yet stranger things had happened.

She enjoyed the sensation of her thoughts waltzing through her mind until she identified Zach's pickup rolling closer and parking outside the barnyard. He shut off the engine but seemed to hesitate, not getting out.

She recalled Zach had promised Mamm he'd look in on Cookie. Well, he wasn't the only veterinarian in the county. If he jilted Holly, Esther and Mamm would hire another. Esther could tell him to never set foot on this property again.

Zach finally exited his pickup and headed toward her.

“Good morning, Esther,” he said. He wore jeans, a navy-blue jacket, and lace-up work boots. “Holly around?”

“I see you don't have your bag. Did you come to treat Cookie or talk to my daughter?”

“I'm short on time—my own fault for sleeping in. I usually head for the clinic right off the bat, but today this is my first stop. May I speak to Holly?”

“Give me a minute. I'll ask her if she's receiving company.”

Armin strutted out of the barn. “Zach, ya can go right on in. Cookie's waiting for you.”

“I'll look in on Cookie another time. I'm here to speak to Holly.”

Armin widened his stance. “You'll have to get in line. She asked me to take her on a buggy ride.”

“That sounds fun.” Esther recalled the day Nathaniel escorted Holly on an excursion. Esther chortled as she remembered the jealousy broiling within her chest; she'd assumed Nathaniel would be attracted to Holly, not her.

“I was just leavin' to hitch Galahad up and swing back here,” Armin said.

The corners of Zach's mouth stabbed down. “Off for a joyride the minute your brother leaves?”

“Listen, I've been working since dawn and Galahad needs the exercise.” Armin's voice blared.

“Nathaniel gave you permission to use his favorite horse?” Zach's volume increased to match Armin's.

“I don't need permission to use an animal I picked out, then trained to pull a buggy.” A sneer flared across Armin's face. “And like I said, Galahad needs the exercise.” He gripped his suspenders, lifted his chin. “You've got your nerve insinuating I don't work hard enough.” He moved in on Zach. “And you're in no position to be courting Holly. Everyone in the county knows your Victoria came back bringing with her your child.”

Esther agreed with Armin, but restrained herself from entering their squabble. Although the two were acting immaturely, she understood why Holly could be attracted to either man.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

I glanced out the kitchen window and spotted Zach and Armin arguing, their mouths twisted, facing each other off like a couple of pit bull terriers. Zach targeted Armin with his finger, and Armin retaliated by tapping Zach's chest with his. For a moment I thought they might wrestle each other to the ground. Men could be so immature. Did I even want one in my life? The answer was a resounding yes, because I wanted children and companionship and love.

My gaze zoomed in on Zach's face and my heart seemed to sprout butterfly wings. Guess I'd started falling for him long before I even liked him. I'd always thought he was extremely good-looking, but when we'd first met I'd found him egotistical—because, I realized, I was at loose ends and jealous of his career and self-assurance and his great relationship with his mother. Then I'd discovered him to be humble, intuitive, and kind. I hoped with all my might he wasn't Justin's father.

I noticed Mom strolling toward the back steps, then heard her padding through the utility room.

“You have company,” she said as she entered the kitchen moments later.

“So I see. Is it my imagination or are two grown men acting like belligerent teenagers?”

“Well, now, you and I have been known to behave childishly ourselves.”

“That's the truth. But those two are making Larry Haarberg look pretty good.”

“But you don't love him, do you?”

“No. And I can't imagine he loves me. He's got it in his head it's time to settle down and he picked me as his happily-forever-after. I'm not sure why, other than I don't drool all over him like other women.”

Mommy Anna wandered into the room with a slight limp, her arm no longer in its sling, and wearing a Kapp, partially covering her bandaged forehead. She lowered herself onto the rocker in the corner. “Don't discount yourself, Holly,” she said.

“Yah,” my mother said, “just because you got your heart broken once doesn't mean all men are pond scum.” I heard a tangle of conflicted emotions in her voice.

“Yeah, I know—”

“Now, if you married an Amishman you'd never have to worry about his divorcing you.” Mommy Anna set the rocker into motion. “Simply isn't tolerated.”

I saw my mother's lips straighten into two pencil-thin lines. She was no doubt agonizing about Nathaniel. How could she not?

“Are you still determined to marry Zach Fleming?” Mommy Anna slowed her rocking.

“I don't know.” I pulled a chair over to sit by her. “You've known Zach all his life.” I searched her grayish-green eyes. “Do you think he could have a son?”

“Any man could, if he's living wickedly.” She stopped rocking. “You mustn't marry a man you don't trust. Your future husband should be like a compass pointing true north. Now, Armin is a bit ornery and carefree, but he's honest. What you see is what he is.”

“If I didn't know better, I'd think you're playing matchmaker again.” I cocked my head. “We know it didn't work last time, when you tried pairing me up with Nathaniel. That was a fiasco.”

“It all turned out for the best,” Mommy Anna said.

Her shoulders slumped; Mom turned away and started fresh coffee.

A rap-rap on the door brought me to my feet, but I paused for a moment, not wanting to seem too eager. I opened the door to find Zach. A delirious blend of joy and trepidation flooded my chest as I stared up into his face.

“Hi.” It was all I could say as I restrained a smile, despite the circumstances.

“Can we talk in private for a few minutes?” An expression of worry warped his features.

“We could go outside.”

“It's cold out,” Mom said. “It could have dipped to freezing last night.”

“That's okay.” I reached for my jacket. “I want to walk down to the creek.”

“I only have a few minutes,” he said. “Not enough time to go all that way.”

“You come in, Zach.” Mommy Anna said. “We'll leave you two alone.”

“No, I couldn't trouble you.” He stared at her bandaged forehead.

I shrugged on my jacket, stepped into shoes. As soon as Zach and I were out the door, Zach said, “Is Anna all right? What happened?”

“Yesterday, while I was having the pleasure of meeting Victoria, Mommy Anna fell and cut her forehead. She needed eight stitches. My friend Larry drove her to the hospital.” I wished I'd never taken Rascal for a walk; I'd still be living in blissful ignorance.

“Sorry to hear that.” He expelled a heavy sigh. “I came to apologize. I should have come here for lunch with you instead of racing over to my mother's when she called.”

“Or was it Victoria who pulled your chain?”

He frowned. “I didn't know she'd be there—especially with her child. My mother must have invited her. Mom's been in a tizzy ever since Victoria told her she's single again. She's wanted me to call Victoria, but I said, ‘No way.'”

Sorrow invaded me like solidifying cement as I came to terms with the fact Beth didn't want me for a daughter-in-law. We descended the steps, and he followed me through the barnyard and across the lawn to the fenced-in flower garden at the far side of the house next to the clotheslines. Most of the garden's inhabitants—the geraniums and other annuals—were spent. The chrysanthemums, black-eyed Susans, dahlias, and daisies were wilted and droopy, like I felt.

“I don't get it.” I recalled how zealous Beth had been to befriend me when we first met. “Beth told me my grandma practically raised her after her mother died. What's she got against me? My mother?”

“I have no idea.” He covered his mouth to yawn. “Sorry, I got to bed late last night, then slept through my alarm clock this morning. After work, I'll go to my parents' and demand Mom fess up.” His feet pivoted away from me. “In fact, I need to get to my first appointment.”

“You're leaving already?”

“I'm sorry. I came to apologize, but I have patients waiting.” He pushed back his jacket sleeve and checked his wristwatch.

“But you had time to argue with Armin?”

“I didn't mean to make it sound like you're an inconvenience, Holly.” He stepped toward his pickup, then stopped midstride and turned to face me. “Who's Larry?”

“A friend from Seattle who's doing Nathaniel a huge favor, driving him all the way to Ohio.”

“Why did Larry come here? To see you?”

It seemed I'd finally gained Zach's full attention, but I didn't appreciate his aggravated tone of voice. He should be answering my questions, not the other way around.

“Yes, he did, as a matter of fact.” I heard a tremor in my voice. “Not that I owe you an explanation.”

“We're getting nowhere.” Zach shook his head in a way that made me feel dismissed. “I need to check on a wounded goat down the road before I go to the clinic,” he said. “I should have been there hours ago.”

“Then leave, already.”

“And the Schrocks' mule's sprained pastern isn't much better. They wanted me to stop by yesterday.”

“So what are you doing here? It doesn't appear you have time to speak to me.” My hands moved to my waist. “Maybe that's why Victoria married someone else.”

“Hey, that's not fair. She—never mind about her.” He inched closer to me. With gentle caution, his hands covered mine. “Holly, I don't know what to say other than I'm as serious right now as I was when I asked you to marry me.”

The feel of his hands against mine made my knees go weak, like I was a swooning movie star in a silent film.

His cell phone rang, sounding obnoxious, persistent. He ignored it.

“Aren't you going to answer?” I asked. “What about the wounded goat?”

A starling perched on the clothesline belted out a succession of cackling trills as if imitating the phone.

Zach dropped one hand into his pocket, exhumed his phone, and turned it to silent. Then he glanced at the caller ID and shoved it back in his pocket.

The ambience had shifted, our moment of tenderness gone.

I moved away from him. “Better come back when you've taken care of your plateful of unfinished business.”

“I do need to make tracks.”

Moments later, as I walked back to the house, I heard his pickup's engine starting. Zach drove down the lane faster than usual.