Courting Cate (8 page)

Pete must have been waiting for her to leave because he came in through the back a minute later.

“Denki,” he said.

“You seem to have a way with the ladies.”

He stepped past me, saying, “Only certain ones, I’m afraid.”

I wanted to tell him I wouldn’t be too sure of that but decided that seemed too forward.

“I’m grateful for your help.” He dipped his head.

“She’ll probably be back.”

He groaned.

“Maybe my Dat can help her,” I said.

He laughed. “She’d probably hit on him too.”

As I left the showroom, I couldn’t help but think of the story of Joseph in the Bible and how he fled from Potiphar’s wife. It was hard for me to admit it, but Pete seemed more and more trustworthy each day.

A half hour later, as I walked up to the house for lunch, Addie stood with Betsy on the edge of the herb garden, chatting away. Uncle Cap, in his overprotective role, didn’t like her to come over when the crew was around.

Just as I reached the girls, the shop door opened and Mervin and Martin spilled out, followed by a few of the other crew members. It was a chilly day, a little too cold to eat outside, with dark clouds threatening more April showers.

Mervin and Marvin came to a halt at the sight of Addie
and Betsy together. I could guess what they were thinking. Another girl as cute as Betsy. Even though Addie was seventeen, her parents didn’t allow her to go to singings yet, and because they were in different districts, and their families were at odds, M&M probably hadn’t seen her in quite a while.

Personally I thought my aunt and uncle were asking for trouble by prohibiting Addie from having a normal social life. No one talked about it much, but when it came to Addie, they were the most controlling parents I knew.

Mervin turned to Pete, who was coming around the exterior of the showroom. “What were you saying about going kayaking on Saturday?”

Pete shot me a glance and I shrugged.

“Could we make it an outing? Like the hike?” Mervin clenched his hands together, as if pleading.

“What do you say, Cate?”

I shrugged again. Two weeks ago I wouldn’t have wanted to go anywhere with M&M, but the hike hadn’t been that bad, except for the comments about my cooking. And Pete seemed entirely over his odd episode after the singing. I was willing to give it another try.

“I guess,” I said, intentionally sounding noncommittal. I didn’t want all of them to think I was too eager.

Mervin clapped his hands together. “Levi!” he called out, heading back into the shop.

Betsy whispered something to Addie, and then the two laughed. It looked as if there would be three of us couples going. Pete and me. Betsy and Levi. And Mervin and Addie, if Uncle Cap would allow it. That left Martin as the odd man out, or perhaps he’d come along on his own.

The thought of going kayaking made me both nervous and excited. The river was probably high and fast. I’d never
been kayaking, although I had seen one on top of a buggy before. I wondered if paddling down the river would give me the same thrill as racing Thunder. That, I was excited about. Going on another outing without Dat and Nan was what made me nervous.

For the first time in my life I felt close to belonging to a group, but I couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that it wouldn’t last.

My anticipation built as the week passed by. Pete continued to be kind and attentive, greeting me every morning and seeking me out every evening after he put in a couple of hours of work after quitting time. When I checked his time card, I discovered he’d been clocking out at the normal time and then going back to the showroom to teach himself more about the business.

By Thursday morning, I admitted to myself that I’d reached a stage of cautious optimism, something I hadn’t felt for the last two years. I longed for it to keep growing.

That afternoon, Levi announced he had to go with his father and brothers to a barn raising in their district on Saturday so he couldn’t go kayaking with us. Several times that afternoon he and Betsy conversed by the rose garden. Levi was supposedly teaching her how to take care of the bushes, but it was obvious as they stared into each other’s eyes they were talking about other things. After work she told me Levi was fine with her going with the group, and that Martin would be going too.

That evening Dat and Pete went over to the property where Nan lived, to repair the leaky pipe and fix the cabinets in the main house. When Dat got home, he said Pete was as handy with tools as he was good at sales. “He continues to impress me,” Dat said, his voice full of cheer.

I hid my smile, not wanting to add to my father’s hopes. But I couldn’t help but feel the same way about Pete.

On Friday Uncle Cap came over to talk with Dat about the outing. I could hear them outside my open office door. Dat assured him Pete was responsible and that all of us would be wearing life jackets.

“I don’t know about those twins,” Uncle Cap said.

“They’ve been working for me for nearly a year,” Dat said. “I haven’t had a bit of trouble with them.”

Then Uncle Cap asked three times if I would be going along, and then a fourth time said, “You’re sure Cate will be there?”

“Jah,” Dat said. “She enjoyed the hike last Saturday with the same people. I can’t see any reason why she wouldn’t go tomorrow.”

A second later the two bustled into my office. Dat was tall but my uncle was nearly a giant. He was at least six and a half feet tall and almost as broad as our barn. His gray hair stuck up around his head, making his face look even rounder than usual. Although he was my Mamm’s brother, I couldn’t imagine the two ever looked anything alike. He was only a few years older than Dat but looked as if he were a decade older, at least.

“You’re going tomorrow, right?” Dat asked.

I nodded.

“For sure, Cate?” Uncle Cap stepped around Dat.

“Jah.”

“And you think it’s fine if I let Addie go? These boys—”

“They’re fine,” I said, hardly believing I was vouching for M&M. “I’ll look after her.”

“Denki,” Uncle Cap said, although his voice still sounded a little unsure. “I’ll let her go, then.”

He followed Dat back out and shut the door. I wasn’t sure if Uncle Cap’s motivation to worry was because he had
a grudge against M&M’s family or because his older boys were wild. His oldest three had quite a reputation for raising trouble. I understood why he would worry about how boys might treat his daughter.

The next day, we left after lunch. Again Pete and M&M carried backpacks, and I carried a bag with a change of clothes for myself, Betsy, and Addie wrapped in plastic bags, just in case we capsized. I assumed the men each carried an extra change of clothes too. And perhaps a snack. We had the same van and driver as before, but this time he sat up front alone and we paired off on the three benches, with Pete and me on the first one. With Levi not along, now that he had the chance, Martin sat by Betsy in the back, leaving Mervin and Addie in the middle. We bypassed the city of Lancaster, heading south and then west toward the river. Betsy and Addie did most of the talking, although M&M interrupted from time to time.

The morning had been overcast with a drizzle of rain, but as we traveled the sun poked through the clouds. The leaves of the trees fluttered, displaying every shade of green imaginable. The faded tulips bent toward colorful annuals lining flowerbeds and spilling over pots and window boxes. Garden after garden showcased rows of seedlings, and the calves danced around their mothers, across the brilliant green grass in the pastures. The landscape sparkled with new life in a way I didn’t remember from other springs.

We passed a campground and then a state park. The driver slowed and pulled into a parking lot.

Pete handled the details of renting the three kayaks, the helmets, and the life jackets. He then asked the van driver to return at nine o’clock.

“Does Uncle Cap know?” I asked, a little alarmed.

“Oh, jah. Of course,” Pete said. “We cleared it with your Dat too.” Then he explained as we all headed down to the dock that the man from the rental place would pick us up downriver and bring us back to meet our driver.

After strapping on a life jacket and then the helmet over my Kapp, I eyed the vessel, wondering how hard it would be to step into it in a dress, but as I watched the man get Betsy and Martin situated in the first kayak it didn’t look too difficult. Next Addie and Mervin stepped into theirs, and then Pete and I, with my bag over my shoulder, climbed into the last kayak on the other side of the dock. I quickly slid my free hand down the back of my skirt and tucked the length of it under my legs as I sat, covering the seat. Then I positioned the bag of clothes at my feet.

Between the man from the rental place and Pete, we had all sorts of information coming at us.

We were to keep our weight centered in the craft. If we capsized, we were supposed to not panic, stay with the kayak, find our paddle, and float on our backs.

We told the man good-bye and started on our way.

The other two couples began to paddle in circles ahead of us. Pete told them to wait. On our first try the paddles moved in sync, from left to right. In the water on one side and out; in on the other side and then out. Back to the left; back to the right again. Our movement felt practically effortless.

Once we caught up with the others, Pete coached them through the strokes, telling Betsy she needed to let Martin, who was in the back, take the lead. And then telling Mervin he needed to take charge too.

Addie and Mervin moved ahead a little ways, but we soon caught up with and then passed them. I felt like Sacagawea,
leading the way on an epic expedition. The spring sunshine warmed my face and hands. Ahead a blue heron took off from the shore, flying low, his talons dangling over the water. Pete asked if I saw it.

“Jah,” I said. “He’s beautiful.”

The current grew faster. An otter splashed to the right of us, and a flock of returning geese flew overhead.

I looked back at Pete. His shirtsleeves were rolled to the elbow and then pushed up on his arm. With each stroke, his muscles rippled, contracting and then relaxing. The geese began to honk as their leader started toward the marshy area on the other side of the river.

When I turned back to face the front, I couldn’t help but smile, with no one to see me.

“Pete!” Martin shouted from behind. I looked back again. He and Betsy were getting the hang of the kayak and paddling hard. Not far behind them were Addie and Mervin. “Wait for us—and then we can have a proper race, down to the bend.”

“That okay with you?” Pete asked.

I nodded, pleased he asked my opinion.

We slowed until they all caught up, and we formed a line straight across the river, as best we could.

Betsy called out, “On your mark. Ready? Set. Go!”

Off we went. It was obvious within a few strokes that Pete and I were going to win. I knew the others would chalk it up to the fact that Pete had kayaked before. Or maybe that I loved to race. But the truth was, we made a good team. Plus we were probably both a little more competitive than we should have been.

As we reached the bend, Pete shouted in victory. I turned toward him, and he reached forward with his paddle. I raised
mine and he tapped it, a huge smile on his face. “Way to go!” His eyes locked on mine. “You’re a great sportswoman.”

I blushed but took it as a compliment.

We both looked behind us. Addie and Mervin were gaining on Betsy and Martin, and when they pulled up beside them, Martin poked at Mervin with his oar. Mervin grabbed it and yanked it out of his hands.

“Let’s go,” Pete said.

“What if they knock each other over?”

“They have life jackets.”

“I told Uncle Cap I’d watch out for Addie.”

“Knock it off!” Betsy’s voice was harsh.

“I’ll have to tell Levi he didn’t have to worry about Betsy going off without him.” Pete laughed. “I think she’s getting annoyed with M&M.”

I smiled that he used my nickname for the twins and rowed all the harder.

As it turned out, the kayaks stayed upright—at least for a while.

Around four o’clock, we docked for a snack at a state park. A group of Englisch having a picnic gawked at us the whole time, so we soon headed back to the kayaks for the last leg of our journey. Addie fed a few crackers to the ducks paddling along, while both Martin and Mervin flirted with Betsy.

“You take the back,” Pete said as we strapped our life vests back on.

I did, gladly, stepping in quickly and again slipping my hands under my skirt to pull it beneath my legs. Pete handed me the bag with the change of clothes, and I pushed it down
between my feet. I easily steered us away from the dock before the others were back in their kayaks.

“I like it up here,” Pete said after we’d been on the river for a few minutes.

“And I like it back here,” I shot back, picking up the pace. And I did—especially watching the muscles in his triceps flex over and over with each stroke.

When we neared our final stop, he told me to slow down and let the others go first. I dug my paddle into the current, pulling against it, spinning us around. The others were lollygagging along, chatting and laughing. The air had cooled, but I was still warm from the exercise.

“Want some water?” Pete held a bottle out to me and I took it, taking a long drink. When I handed it back to him, he finished it off.

“So what’s for supper?”

“It’s a surprise.” He put the empty bottle in his backpack and zipped it, grinning as he did. “Are you having a good time?”

I nodded. The peacefulness of the water, the natural beauty all around, and Pete’s company all soothed me. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt such harmony.

By the time we neared the dock, I was looking forward to dinner, though. And to sitting around a campfire, next to Pete.

“We’ll have to carry the kayaks up to the park,” he said as Mervin and Addie paddled up to the dock. “And then to the road later.”

Martin and Betsy maneuvered to the other side.

“Move all the way up,” Pete instructed.

I paddled our kayak behind Betsy’s. By the time I started to climb out, with the bag over my shoulder, Martin stood on the dock.

“Let me help.” He extended a hand.

“I’m fine.” I was okay going on an outing with him, but I wasn’t ready to actually trust him.

“Let me get out first,” Pete said to me.

Mervin stepped onto the dock and stumbled a little. Addie gave a little shriek. I started to step out of the kayak as Pete put his second foot on the dock. At the same time Mervin slipped and stumbled toward Martin. My plan was to sit back down in the kayak as quickly as I could, but Martin swung his arm wide and knocked me off-balance.

I did my best to land back in the seat, but my center was off, and I landed to the right, on the side of the kayak with a hard knock to my thigh and then a bounce into the river in a very unladylike tumble. I didn’t go under—in fact the life jacket buoyed me from midchest up—but the water was icy cold. To make matters worse, the bag slung over my shoulder floated for half a second and then filled with water.

Of course my fight-or-flight reaction kicked in, and because I couldn’t flee, my natural inclination was to lash out.

“You idiot,” I screeched at Martin.

I knew it had been an accident, but it didn’t feel as if it had been. I was back on the playground, shoved away from first base by Seth and landing with my leg twisted under me while M&M pointed and laughed along the sideline.