“Matthew!”
He looked up and saw Shanna running across the field toward him.
She slowed to a stop when she reached him. “I earned back what I owed Amos Kropf. He told me he’d been keeping track of my hours.”
“Gut. So, you won’t be working for him anymore?”
Her brow furrowed. “Well, he didn’t fire me. He said that I’d be paid for any additional hours I worked. I figure this is gut. Besides, I owe you for his transportation after the accident, remember? How much was that, again?”
Matthew glanced at his filthy hands and resisted the urge to run a finger down her cheek. She was clean; he could smell a flowery scent. His touches wouldn’t be appreciated at this point.
“Ach, Shanna. I thought I told you not to worry about that. I don’t want your money.”
“But you’re buying a farm. And you’ll need a horse and buggy of your own. You’re not so independently wealthy that you can afford to throw away, what, twenty dollars?”
“I didn’t throw it away, Shanna. Let it go. Besides, your daed already reimbursed me. He said that he was responsible, since you are his daughter. So, if you pay anyone, it’ll have to be your daed.”
“Maybe I could pay you back, and you could give the money to him?” She wrinkled her nose.
Matthew smiled. “Ask him yourself. He’s not a scary ogre.”
She sighed. “Maybe you’re right. He’s different from the daed I ran away from. I think you’ve been gut for him.”
His grin widened. “I think having you home is gut for him. But, since you brought it up, I need to call home tonight. Would you want to say hello to my parents?”
She backed up, her eyes wide. “Your parents? Whatever for?”
Ach, he wished he could draw her near. Punctuate his every word with a kiss. If only he weren’t so filthy. He took a deep breath. “Because you’re my future frau. They’ll want to get to know you.”
She laughed. “You haven’t proposed. I haven’t accepted.”
Matthew shook his head. “You agreed to be my steady girl. You know the direction we’re going.”
She sobered. “Jah, I know. But maybe your family would be better off not talking to me right now. I haven’t joined the church yet, nor do I plan to this year.”
He opened his mouth, then shut it, figuring it best to keep his discussion with Bishop Sol and the preachers quiet until they’d reached a decision.
But she looked him straight in the eyes. “Speaking of which, how did your meeting go? Are you in trouble?”
Matthew shook his head. “Nein. Next church Sunday, I’ll kneel and confess for driving your car. Then, it will be over. Forgiven and forgotten.”
She reached out and touched his hand, seeming to pay no attention to the dirt. “Ach, Matthew. I’m so sorry. I should have said nein.”
“I shouldn’t have asked.” He shrugged. “I knew better.”
“I suppose we should get back to the haus. Mamm was finishing up dinner. I helped her set the table and told her I’d call you and my brothers in. But I’m not sure where Joseph is, and Daed is still visiting with whoever owns the truck parked outside the shop.”
“Joseph mentioned something about being invited to dinner somewhere.”
“I still can’t believe my brother is courting someone.” Shanna shook her head. “But he’s seventeen. He’ll probably be married next year.”
Matthew shrugged. “Maybe so.” He took a couple of steps toward the barn, his thoughts straying to his hopes and dreams…Shanna, the farm, and blueberries. He still needed to go into town to research the prospects of growing the fruit. “I heard from the realtor this afternoon. The owners are prepared to accept the offer I made.”
Shanna squealed. “That’s great! Are you going to move in soon, then?”
“Well, there’s other stuff. Inspections that are required by law, the renovations…you know. Maybe we’ll be in by wedding season.” Oops. That had come out without thought. Hopefully, she wasn’t listening too closely.
Her gaze held his for a moment, and then she looked away. “Ach, Matthew,” she whispered.
“I…I meant…hopefully, I would be in by the end of autumn.”
Her smile appeared and disappeared so fast, like a drawing on an Etch-a-Sketch that was shaken away. But she let his comment go and simply nodded toward the house. “Dinner’s ready.” She took off at a trot.
Right. And maybe he was coming on too strong. If he kept this up, he would probably drive her away rather than wear down her resistance. Maybe he should ask his brothers for courting advice.
Or maybe he should concentrate on friendship. She’d made it clear that she wasn’t ready, even though she’d agreed to be his steady girl. Yet she knew what that meant. Why did he have to keep pushing it?
“Gut things kum to those that wait,” he muttered as he watched her hightail it toward to the house. Depending on the bishop’s decision, he might have to wait a lot longer.
Lord, help me to be patient
, he prayed.
As everybody filed into the kitchen, Shanna filled their bowls with beef stew. She’d made it by herself, with no instruction or supervision whatsoever from Mamm. She snuck a glance at Matthew as she put his bowl in front of him, praying he’d like it. She wanted to be a good cook for him someday. He’d want a frau who would prepare a satisfying meal for him after every hard day of work. Mamm had helped her with the corn bread, talking her through the steps, but Shanna had done all the work. She was proud that it hadn’t burned.
After they’d bowed their heads in silent prayer, Daed talked about the big order he’d gotten that day, to be shipped to someplace in Branson. “I’ll need both you and Joseph to help,” he said, looking at Matthew.
Matthew nodded as he slathered a slab of freshly churned butter on a thick slice of corn bread. “I’ll be glad to help.”
“And I heard about a blueberry farm up closer to Springfield. Thought you’d be glad to know there’re some around here.”
“Jah. Gut to know. Danki.” Matthew took a bite of the corn bread, then looked at Mamm. “This is ser gut.”
Mamm smiled. “Shanna prepared the meal.”
His gaze slid to her, and he smiled even more broadly.
She grinned back, dipping her head.
After the meal, Shanna helped Mamm pour coffee and set out a plate of peanut butter cookies. She’d made those, too. They were left over from the bake sale.
Daed waved the cookies away. It was the first time Shanna had seen him turn down dessert. “Sorry, Shanna. I have a touch of indigestion.” He rubbed his chest. “Something about the stew must have disagreed with me. Did you do something different?”
Shanna shrugged. “I thought I did it the usual way. I don’t know. Did it taste bad to you, Matthew?” He’d said it was “ser gut,” right? Nein; he’d said that about the corn bread. Her stomach churned.
“It was gut.” Matthew wiped his chin with a napkin and smiled.
“I didn’t say it tasted bad,” Daed clarified. “I said it’s disagreeing with me.” He pushed away from the table. “Deborah, can Joy and Joanna help you with cleanup? I need to talk to Shanna for a bit.”
Shanna’s stomach cramped. This was it, then. Daed would yell at her for whatever it was that she’d done this time. She glanced at Matthew, and he shrugged, but his gaze was sympathetic. Apparently, Daed hadn’t talked to him first about this issue. She almost wished he had.
“Step outside a moment, Shanna.” Daed headed for the door, still rubbing his chest. “Let’s take a walk.”
She decided to cut to the chase. “Did I do something wrong?” No point in wasting time on small talk. On the evening of Matthew’s talk with Bishop Sol and the preachers, this couldn’t spell anything good. Maybe it was all about her, and they were going to oust her from the community. Send her back to the Englisch. Would she be able to find a job as a nurse?
He shrugged, then rubbed his left arm.
“Are you okay?” She eyed him with concern. Beads of sweat had appeared on his forehead. He had feelings of indigestion, and, from the looks of it, arm pains. “Daed?”
“Hmm. I must have pulled a muscle or something. But never mind me. I’m fine.” He leveled a glance at her. “Not sure what you did. Perhaps you can tell me. I’ve heard rumblings about you acting inappropriately around some of the young men.”
Shanna’s eyebrows shot up. “Inappropriately?”
“Letting your hair down in front of them. Going without your kapp.”
Shanna blinked back tears. “That—”
Daed shook his head. “Plus, you’ve been running around in tight jeans and T-shirts that show too much skin.”
Too much skin? Jah, she supposed so, according to Amish standards. In the world’s eyes, though, her clothes would be considered modest.
“Not sure how much I should say. You’re still considered to be in your rumschpringe, but the complaints I’ve heard make it sound as if you weren’t. Besides, you’ve been dressing mostly Amish while you’ve been home. Appreciate that. Danki.”
“Ach. Well, the incident with the kapp and my uncovered head was an accident. Matthew caught my kapp with his fishing hook, and it landed in the pond. And I forgot about not letting my hair down until I saw the shocked looks on the faces of him and Becky and Jacob.”
Daed waved his hand. “I wasn’t condemning. Just saying that maybe you should be a bit more careful for the remainder of the summer. Try to abide by the rules more closely.”
When had Daed mellowed? Shanna couldn’t remember any of his lectures being delivered so calmly and quietly. He hadn’t raised his voice at all. If only she could keep herself from sounding defensive.
Daed pulled in a breath and frowned. “I promised I’d speak to you about it. Also, I was supposed to mention the public displays of affection. You and Matthew were caught kissing after church yesterday. Not that I mind so much. Matthew’s a gut man. But the bishop saw him with his arms around you at the pond Saturday. Said you were openly cuddling.” He sighed. “I imagine he spoke to Matthew about that.”
Her face heated. Private matters were supposed to be taboo as topics of discussion. But then, since they’d been seen, it’d hardly been private. She sighed. “Probably so.” She kicked a rock. “Becky is supposed to come over in a while, and….” She looked at Daed. His complexion appeared ashen. “Are you sure you’re all right, Daed? You don’t look so gut.”
“Never mind. Supposed to mention your driving, too. Scaring…horses.” Daed gripped his chest again. “This heartburn is…really bad. Feels like…elephants. What…did you do…to the stew?” More beads of sweat covered his forehead.
Shanna stopped walking and stepped in front of him, knowing by now he was far from fine. “Daed?”
“Just not…feeling…up to par.” He gasped, then collapsed to his knees.
“Daed!” Shanna reached out to keep him from falling face-first in the dirt. Then, supporting him with one arm, she reached with the other hand inside her pocket and fished for her cell phone. All the while she tried to find her professional side, to distance herself emotionally. It wasn’t working so well. This was her daed. She lowered him to the ground, helped him roll over on his back, then dialed the number for emergency help. “Hello? I think my daed’s having a heart attack. He complained of shoulder pains and arm pains and what he thought was indigestion. We need an ambulance.” Her eyes took in Daed’s worsening condition as she rattled off the address.
“There is an ambulance relatively close by,” the dispatcher told her. “It’s en route.”
Shanna clicked the phone shut and dropped down beside Daed. “Help is on the way.” She looked around for something to elevate his head. Seeing nothing potentially useful, she untied her black apron, yanked it off, and folded it to make a sort of pillow, which she tucked beneath Daed’s head.
He stared up at her, his green eyes filled with tears. He reached out with his right hand and grasped hers. “Ich liebe dich.”
She held his hand and, with the other, felt for his pulse. She wasn’t wearing a watch, so she counted silently. Her estimate was in the thirties—dangerously low, but still high enough to keep the oxygen flowing to his brain. She released his wrist and scooted behind him. “Ich liebe dich, too, Daed. I’m going to sit you up a little and let you rest your head in my lap. Hang in there. The paramedics will be here soon.” She was glad Daed was conscious and breathing.