The Hope of Refuge (26 page)

Something weird was happening between her and Ephraim, but she had no idea what.

The hours passed quickly as she cooked and cleaned and washed clothes, but she still had no answers to her questions as her workday drew to a close.

“Cara,” Mr. Howard said when he came home, “we need to talk.” He pulled his billfold from his pocket. She studied each bill as he placed it in her hand. “You’ve been great. Wish we’d had you before I used up all my leave time during those first weeks of Ginny’s injury. You’ve gotten here earlier and stayed later than I dared ask of you. But we learned during her last appointment that her bone healed quicker than expected. I just spoke to her doctor’s office, and rather than a regular checkup visit tomorrow, she’ll have her hip cast removed. We’d love to keep you, but our budget says we can’t. As much as we hate it, we’ll have to make do on our own.”

It was odd the way disappointment stung every single time it happened. “You don’t know anybody else who needs help, do you? I can do almost anything with a little practice.”

“No, not that I know of.” He shoved his wallet into his pants pocket.

“Okay.”

Lori was in the side yard, playing with dolls under a shade tree. When Cara went to get her so they could give Mrs. Howard a proper good-bye, she spotted something she’d noticed twice already this week—a horse and wagon a few hundred feet away with one of the middle-aged men she’d seen at Ephraim’s. He sat on the open tailgate of the wagon, selling what looked like some type of vegetables. Probably asparagus and rhubarb since that was all that was ripe in the Howards’ garden. But this road seemed like an odd place to try to sell anything. It had almost no traffic. And the man in the wagon appeared more interested in watching her as she worked the garden or hung clothes on the line than in selling.

She’d wanted to ask Ephraim about him, but he seemed in no mood to answer any questions about his people. Deciding it was time she asked the man directly, she headed that way. When he spotted her, he jumped off the tailgate, shoved the crates farther into the wagon, and hurried to the seat. He slapped the reins and took off.

Was it time for him to go, or did he not want to speak with her?

She and Lori went inside and told Mr. and Mrs. Howard good-bye. The Howards apologized again for needing to let her go so abruptly, and she knew their decision was based on something they couldn’t control. She assured them it didn’t matter and gathered all of her and Lori’s clean laundry before leaving. Going down the front walk, she wondered if Ephraim would still pick them up after their tiff this morning.

“Wait,” Mr. Howard called.

Cara stopped. “Yeah?”

“Ginny just reminded me of something. My sister lives up the road a piece. She bought paint a few months back. Started painting a room but never finished it, let alone the rest of the house. Don’t know how good your painting skills are, but I could put in a good word for you.”

“Thanks.”

He pointed. “Straight that way about two miles. It’s 2201. Two-story brick house, black shutters, pale yellow trim.”

“Think she’ll mind if I go by there now?”

He shook his head, chuckling. “You do that, missy. She should be there this time of day. I’ll go in and give her a call.”

Lori tugged on her hand, and they started walking again. In the distance a horse and buggy topped the hill, heading for them.

Ephraim
.

Her heart beat a little harder. She’d never met anyone like him. In spite of their having a bit of trouble getting along and him being a believer in things that didn’t exist, she liked who he was—determined, honest, and giving. The man had a lot going for him. And he was so attractive. If he wasn’t Amish, she might even be tempted to fall for him. For her, that’d really be saying something.

“Look, Mom. ‘From is coming.”

“Yep, I saw him top the hill a few minutes ago.”

“Think he brought Better Days?”

“He’s brought him every day this week.”

“It’s Saturday tomorrow. Maybe he’ll make ice cream for us.”

“Tomorrow is Friday, honey.”

Lori cursed.

“Lori Moore, watch your mouth.”

“You swear.”

“Yeah, well, when you’re almost an adult, we’ll discuss this again. Until then you talk like a little girl. Got it?”

She shrugged. “Why?”

“I don’t know, kid. It’s just the way it is.”

“‘From doesn’t curse.”

“Good. Then take after him.”

Ephraim pulled to a stop beside them. He had a bit of a smile on his face. That’d been a rarity since she’d interrupted their Sunday service.

“Afternoon, ladies.”

Lori put her foot on the step and hoisted herself up. “Hey ’From.”

Ephraim looked beyond Lori, studying Cara with a serious expression.

She smiled. “Hi.”

“Afternoon.”

Better Days danced all over the seat, welcoming them.

“Mom said I need to take after you.”

Ephraim rubbed his chin. “You need to start shaving? I can lend you my razor.”

Lori slid closer to him. “She said I’m supposed to talk like you.”

Cara sat down. “Hey, Lori, zip it.”

Ephraim said something in Pennsylvania Dutch. The sincerity in his voice and reflected on his face added to her puzzlement. Was he annoyed with her intrusion in his life or not?

That aside, his words sounded like something he’d said earlier in the week. He gave Lori a half smile. “Is that what she meant?”

“Nope,” Lori chirped. “She meant I’m not to curse.”

Ephraim tilted his head at Cara. “We wouldn’t want your mother to watch her mouth too, would we?”

Cara harrumphed. “Shut up, both of you.”

“Be nice, Mom.”

Ephraim laughed and slapped the reins against the horse’s back.

“I’m careful what I say most of the time.”

“Can you go a week without cursing?” Ephraim asked.

Cara raised her chin. “Shut up, ‘From, before I’m tempted to say so much more than a few harmless curse words.”

He chuckled.

She pulled her pay out of the pocket she’d sewn on the dress. “Today was my last day with the Howards.”

“Did you know that?”

“No. Mrs. Howard is getting out of her cast earlier than they’d figured. Even so I’d thought they’d keep me working until she did a week or so of physical therapy and was able to get around better on her own again. Something must have come up with their finances.”

He slowed the buggy to turn it toward his place.

“I got a lead on another job a couple miles straight ahead. Would you mind taking me by there?”

“What kind of job?”

“Painting.”

“You ever painted before?”

“No. But before a few days ago, I never cooked on a wood stove either, and you weren’t complaining about the meal I fixed last night.”

He looked at Lori and rubbed his belly.

He’d come in late last night to get his telescope. That had been his mode of operation all week. When every trace of daylight was gone, he’d slip into the house long enough to get his telescope out of the storage room, tell them good night, and leave. But last night Lori had talked him into eating a second dinner with her.

“When your mom was about the same age you are now,” he said, loosely holding the reins, “I asked her if she’d ever picked corn before, and she said, No, but I can learn.’ And then she started helping me.”

Confused by his sudden trip down memory lane, Cara stared at him. Maybe she should relax and enjoy the friendly mood he was in, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that he was setting her up for something. “What’s with all the nice banter?”

He sighed. “I can’t win. If I’m concerned and say so, you tell me I’m being bossy. If I give too much, I must want something. If I give too little, I’m mean and can’t possibly understand your situation.”

His words bit, but she knew they were true. “You get stung every day of your life, and we’ll see how you feel about bees.”

“I’m not a bee.”

Even as guilt washed over her, she knew he’d never understand. Life had trained her to regard every action with suspicion. And that a swarm of bees could attack at any moment.

Inside his hiddy Ephraim stared through the telescopic lens, seeing nothing except his own thoughts. He’d been a sky watcher since he turned twelve, but he’d taken up stargazing through a telescope over a decade ago.

Now the vast expanse of the night sky and the brilliance of the stars and planets were hidden behind Cara’s face. Those golden brown eyes and soft features seemed to linger with him like his favorite nighttime view of the heavens in the fall—the harvest moon. In the right season the soft orange luminance of a true harvest moon outlined the terrain of bright highlands and darker plains, making them easily visible to the naked eye. And its beauty was a part of him. Too amazing to look away from, it seemed as if he could reach out and touch it. But regardless of how close a harvest moon appeared, it was more than two hundred thousand miles away.

A lot like Cara.

The couple she’d gone to see about painting for them—the Garretts according to the mailbox—walked outside with her as they said goodbye, and he’d overheard what they’d said to her. If she could find someone to help her move furniture and have the painting done by the end of next weekend, they’d hire her.

She hadn’t declined the job, nor had she accepted. He’d expected her to ask him for help during their long ride home, but she hadn’t. He refused to volunteer. Asking for help was one of the oldest biblical principles and one of the ways people showed each other respect.

Trying to focus on the sky, he adjusted the telescope. He didn’t hear or feel anything, but he knew the answer.
Be me to her
.

When God loved people, He didn’t count what something cost Him. He only counted what it’d do for the ones He helped. His Son’s life proved that. But Ephraim wasn’t God. And Cara irritated him as much as she fascinated him.

The Pennsylvania Dutch phrase he’d spoken to her last week circled through his mind.
Die Sache, as uns zammebinne, duhne sich nie net losmache, awwer die Sache as uns ausenannermache schtehne immer fescht
. He hadn’t intended to say it out loud, and he could never tell her what it meant. But one evening he was next to the buggy as she climbed out of it. She’d stumbled a little, and he’d helped steady her. As she stood so close to him, he’d spoken the truth, and some of the tension of the moment broke.

It wasn’t like he was interested in her romantically. Certainly not. His attentions belonged to Anna Mary. She was cut from the same broadcloth fabric he was. But Cara—

A terrified scream came from the house. He bolted across the yard. As he entered the house, he heard Cara shriek, “No, Ephraim!” The fear in her voice swirled feelings inside him like dust caught in a windstorm.

As he hurried through the kitchen, a shadow moved across the room. Cara ran into him, bouncing off his chest like a rubber ball. She staggered back.

Ephraim grabbed her arms to keep her from falling. “What’s going on?”

Her labored breathing didn’t slow as she gently splayed her hands across his face, touching him as if he might not be real.

“It’s okay, Cara. You’re awake now.”

She backed away. The image of her in his shirt, swallowed in it like a teenager, burned into his mind. She slumped into a kitchen chair. His Bible lay open on the table in front of her. Had she been reading it?

Her hands covered her mouth, and the silvery moonlight reflected a lone tear. She lowered her arms to her side. “What are you doing here?”

“I was watching the stars when I heard you scream.”

She glanced at the clock but said nothing about it being after two in the morning.

Cara drew a shaky breath. Against his better judgment he sat down across from her. The moon’s glow lay across parts of her body shadows filling in the rest. Pages of the Bible rustled as a breeze crossed the kitchen. Tree frogs and crickets played summer’s tune. She swiped the tear from her cheek and wrapped her arms around herself.

Ephraim waited for her to speak. But within moments her vulnerable side retreated, and she regained control of her breathing. The woman in front of him squared her body and became as unyielding as the day he’d met her.

Be me to her
.

How was he supposed to do that? She didn’t trust him, and he wanted to be trusted—at least in some distant, “I won’t do any more damage to your life” sort of way. He angled his head, trying to make eye contact.

She pushed the Bible to the side, slid the chair back, and stood. “Good night.”

“Wait.”

Trying to think of something she’d talk to him about, he settled on her job situation. “What did the Garretts say?”

“Not much.”

Wondering if anything short of the threat of losing her daughter would make her ask for help, he stifled a sigh. “Will you take the job?”

“I could make really good money. The kind that would help me get out of here.”

Was his place that bad? He motioned for her to sit, but she didn’t. He went to the kitchen cabinet. “So what’s the holdup?” He grabbed a glass.

“I have to work a few things out.”

“For Pete’s sake, Cara. If you need help, just ask.”