Brush of Angel's Wings (7 page)

The men shook hands, exchanging words of greeting.

“Well, I guess I'd better get going. There's always something to do on a farm, isn't there?” George stepped toward the door. “Are you ready to go, Kayla?”

“I want to say good-bye to Pepper.” She climbed the first rung of the stall gate and leaned to stroke the horse's neck. “I'll be back to visit soon.”

Jordan tossed a flake of hay into the stall, then grabbed the empty water bucket. The horse's name seemed reasonable. Not only did he have black spots, but he had fire running through him.

He took the bucket outside to the well, and as he pumped the handle, the Davys climbed into their truck. He returned Kayla's wave, then picked up the full bucket.

Jordan sneezed as he was returning to the stall with the water. He tipped his head back to search the rafters but didn't see the cat.

Micah walked up to Jordan. “Barn dust?”

Feeling his eyes beginning to water, Jordan wiped his shirtsleeve across his face. Rachel's words returned to him, asking if her father knew of his allergy. “I'll be fine.” Even as he spoke the words, another sneeze triggered. Perhaps he was allergic to barn dust as well as cats.

“April is early for pollen.”

“I still want the work.” His words were rushed.

Micah cocked his head. “
Gut
. Have you ever shoed a horse?”

“No.” He guarded his breathing, taking in only shallow inhalations.

Micah clapped his shoulder. “I'll teach you how but
nett
today.” He patted his stomach. “I'm hungry. You too?”

“Yes, sir.”

Rachel set the dishes on the table so hard they rattled. Her mother stood at the stove, oblivious to any attempts Rachel made to temper her anger. It wasn't that she despised women's work. She disliked her father's cold dismissal. Several times in the past she'd helped unload horses that arrived for buggy training or shoeing.

Rachel set the utensils next to the plates and wandered over to the window ledge. The last time she looked out, the
narrisch
animal reared and both
Daed
and Jordan were trying to control him when he came down. Once the horse settled, she wasn't sure who stood prouder, the spotted horse or the owner's daughter.

The truck no longer in the driveway, she moved away from the window. Her mind reeled with thoughts of how Jordan had shown no shame eyeing the beautiful Kayla Davy. Rachel understood how the girl's figure, made more obvious in those tight-fitting jeans, would attract his attention—but why should that bother her?

Mamm
poured the gravy from the beef roast into a serving dish. “Put the bread and butter on the table. Everything should be ready when they
kumm
in to eat.” She placed the pot in the sink and ran some water into the empty pan to soak.

The back door opened. The men doffed their hats and placed them on wall hooks.

“I use bar steel and always leave a very small bit of expansion room.”
Daed
held up his fingers, indicating the minuscule space. “I'll show you when we shoe next week.”

“Great,” Jordan said and pulled out the chair where he'd sat during breakfast.

Daed
took his place, continuing the topic of shoeing.

Her father had bonded quickly with the hired hand. Too quickly. Rachel set the bowl of potatoes in the center of the table and pulled out the chair across from Jordan.

When she opened her eyes after offering an abbreviated quiet grace, she noticed Jordan's eyes roaming from the food to her parents, then stopping on her, smiling.

Daed
opened his eyes and picked up the knife to slice the roast.

“I tilled another row before putting Clyde up,” Jordan said, then added, “I'll work on it tomorrow too.”

“
Nett meiya
. Timothy needs help with his addition.” He glanced at Rachel. “Maybe you and
Mamm
will bake a pie to bring?” Without waiting for Rachel's reply,
Daed
spoke to Jordan. “You like pie,
jah
?”

Jordan looked at Rachel. “I like anything sweet.”

Like Kayla Davy
. Rachel shot him a quick saccharine smile. “I think there're some crab apples left over from last fall.”

Chapter Five

I
wasn't planning to make anything.” Rachel sawed the knife through the stalk of rhubarb and handed it to Naomi.

“Everyone knows I'm
nett
a
gut
cook.” She cut off another section. “That's why
Daed
hired Jordan—so that I could prepare for being a
fraa
.”

“Does he want you to marry Jordan?” She leaned closer and, without giving Rachel a chance to answer, added, “Wouldn't it be
wundebaar
for us both to have fall weddings?”

“Nay!”

Naomi pouted. “I thought you wanted to get married.”

“You and I both know that without being asked to be taken home after a singing, it's
nett
likely that someone will marry me.” Rachel pushed aside the rhubarb's leafy cluster to expose the stalks.

“Maybe Jordan is the right
bu
. He seems different than the rest.” Her friend's brows lifted.

“He's different because he's
nett
Amish.”

“His
mamm
was Amish.”

“His
daed
wasn't.”

Naomi wiped her hands on her apron. “Why else would he
kumm
to live here?”

“He doesn't seem interested in our ways.”

“What you see on the outside isn't always the same as the inside.”

“Did someone tell you why he's here?”

“
Nay
. I have heard nothing.” Naomi tilted her head in thought. “I guess he's here to marry you.” She chuckled, putting her hand over her mouth.

“That's
nett
funny.” Her friend had meddled in trying to match Rachel with a
bu
more times than any of Rachel's sisters. But teasing her about Jordan wasn't something to laugh about.

“You'll see. He'll ask you home from the singing.”

Rachel had learned shortly after they both became of courting age not to encourage Naomi. Once Jordan made it clear he wasn't interested, as all the others had, Rachel hoped Naomi would back off.

“This should be enough for a pie.” Rachel handed Naomi another stalk to add to the bundle. She swept the dirt from her dress. Rhubarb season usually started in another week or two. She hoped cutting some early meant it would be more tart.

“I'll help you prepare it. I love cooking.” Naomi let out a long dreamy sigh. “I hope William likes what I made. It's
Mammi's
recipe for
schnitzboi
.”

Rachel smiled. “Of course he will.” William was outspoken about liking everything Naomi cooked. Rachel wondered how Jordan would react to her rhubarb pie if she accidentally forgot to add sugar.

“Rachel, if your pie is ready, we can start loading the buggies with the food.” Sadie plucked a pickle out of a jar and took a bite. “I can't wait to see the
boppli's
room.”

Rachel opened the oven and pulled out a golden-brown crusted pie.

“That one will win a certain someone's attention,” Naomi whispered.

Rachel smirked, then quickly hid her expression with a dish towel. “I think it will,” she said after composing herself.

She picked up the pie using a set of pot holders and carried it to the buggy. Once all the food was loaded, they headed for her sister's house.

Pulling into Sadie's yard, Rachel's heartbeat quickened when she caught a glimpse of Jordan on the ladder, hammering a nail into a two-by-six. She looked away before he caught her gawking like a
schul
girl.

Katie Bender's buggy pulled in and parked a little ways away from them. Rachel couldn't help the bitter feeling rising up within her. She had no right to be there. She spoke to Sadie. “Who—” Rachel bit her tongue.

“I invited her. She was practically family.” Sadie waved at Katie.

Until James died
. Rachel took the hot pie and stepped gingerly down from the buggy. Naomi lifted the bowl of potato salad out of the back of the buggy, and both waited for Sadie to load her arms.

“I wonder if Katie brought her pen and paper,” Naomi whispered. “I heard the bishop has given Katie permission to write for the
Budget News
again.”

“
Jah
, I heard that too.” She didn't understand why the bishop would allow it, especially after all the trouble her writing had caused. “I'm trying to keep
mei
mouth shut.” Admittedly, she hadn't tried too hard in the past. But lately, an inward voice of conviction pushed her to attempt to reconcile. She wanted to continue ignoring it, but it was pressing down on her.

Rachel let her focus travel up the ladder and stop at Jordan.

He looked down and grinned.

Heat crawled up Rachel's neck. Sure that her face looked as if she'd spent the day in the direct sun, Rachel dropped her head so he wouldn't see. She picked up her pace, looking at her feet as she went. She began to think about Katie. Maybe she could use her endless curiosity to her advantage. Katie could drill Jordan about why he came and how long he planned to stay. She'd presumed it was for the summer only. But what if
Daed
wanted him to stay through harvest? And worse, what if he wanted him to stay through winter?

Rachel maneuvered the pot holders underneath the hot pie before setting it on the table, then turned to go back for more food. She wondered if she should suggest the interview or not.

Timothy climbed out of the new addition's window opening, stood back, and admired the structure. “What do you think?” he asked as Rachel was passing.

“It looks
wundebaar
. That's an awfully big room. Is Sadie expecting more than one
boppli
?”

“She's starting to look that way.” A sheepish grin filled his face. “I'll take multiple boys.”

Rachel pretended to scowl. “And what if she has
maydels
?”

He pointed to the opposite end of the house. “Then I'll build another room on that side for the boys we'll have the next time.”

“And if she has another
maydel
?” Rachel enjoyed teasing her brother-in-law.

He laughed. “Then we go up. Multiple levels if we must.”

Timothy's animated facial expressions always had a way of making her laugh. Sadie had certainly found a wonderful husband. Rachel wished there were more men like Timothy. She would have been jealous if it hadn't been her sister who married him.

She stepped back a few paces to further admire the addition.

Timothy nudged her arm. “There's probably a singing this Sunday.” He nodded toward Jordan.

Rachel put her hand to her chest, horrified. Timothy had looked out for her welfare more as a brother than a brother-in-law even before James died, but he had never been so bold.

“I thought you were
mei
friend,” she said.