Love Redeemed (4 page)

“Are you coming or going?”

“Coming.” At least he had been, until now. Now he considered grabbing the reins and hopping on the horse. Except that would be cowardly. He was no coward. If he could break a horse to a saddle, he could talk to a girl. “I'll stay for a while, I guess.”

“Gut.”

Gut
. She thought it was
gut
. Why did she say that? He turned to look at her. The lantern in her hand cast shadows around them and made it hard to read her expression. Her daed had cause to worry, he suspected. A girl so pretty and so lively had plenty of suitors lining up. Silas was a stern taskmaster, but fair. He hadn't said much outside the barn earlier in the day. Only that Michael knew how important the prayer service was. Dallying outside instead of getting inside for the second sermon had been a mistake. One he wouldn't repeat.

“Is something wrong? Is your Daed still upset? Because if he is, I'll talk to him again.”

“Nee. Well, a little, but it's not about you. It's about me. I need to learn to do better.” She held up the basket she carried in her other hand. “Mudder sent pumpkin spice cookies and Rice Krispie treats. I'll go back for the lemonade in a bit.”

He cast about for a response. This was what he didn't like. Conversation about nothing or anything at all. “Your mudder made them?”

Her smile faded. “Jah, I didn't have time to bake yesterday. I do bake, though. A lot. I made pecan pie for supper today. It baked a little too long and the crust was singed, but it was still—”

“I imagine it was good.” He stemmed the flow by holding up his hand. “I'm still full of the supper my mudder made.”

She tucked the handle of the basket in the crook of her arm. “Guess we should go in.”

“Guess we should.”

She didn't move. Neither did he.

Some friends squeezed past them. Samuel and Rafael called out. He nodded. Still, his feet didn't move. Neither did his mouth.

“Is that your buggy?” She sounded delighted. He followed her gaze. Daniel's buggy—Hiram's but Daniel's now. “It's nice.”

“It's—”

“It has padded seats—and a radio!” Awe made her voice soft.

“It's not mine. It's Daniel's.”

“Oh.” A wistful look on her face, she sidled closer and put her hand on the wheel. “It's nice.”

“Jah.”

She looked around. “Where's your buggy then?”

He gestured at Cookie—so named by his little schweschder for some unknown reason. “I rode my horse.”

“Oh.” She ducked her head, no sign of a smile now. “They've started singing. Rachel's waiting for me.”

She slipped past him and disappeared through the door.

For sure he'd said the wrong thing as usual. Done the wrong thing. He'd ridden his horse because Daed and Mudder were visiting at his Onkel Peter's when he left the house and the second buggy needed a new wheel. They didn't have a third. He should've stayed home. Coming on horseback served no purpose. Now she thought he wasn't interested. And he was. Very interested. Someday he'd figure out how to tell her. If he didn't figure it out soon, someone else would, of that he was certain.

Katie slid her dress on the hanger, stuck it on the hook, and began to take the pins from her prayer kapp, waiting for Silas to say something.
He stood at the window, his blunt fingers gripping the curtain, his expression guarded. He'd been so quiet since their talk with Phoebe. When he didn't talk to Katie, it meant something was troubling him. He had to work it over in his mind, mull it over, until an answer presented itself. Years of marriage to the man had taught her to give him the room to do that. It made their conversations much easier when he finally broke his silence.

“She stood out there and talked to Michael a good five minutes.” He let the curtain drop and faced Katie. “She didn't understand a word I said to her.”

“Her brain understood. It's her heart that speaks another language.” Weary, Katie sank onto the daisy chain quilt that covered their bed. Her back and her feet ached in unison. When she looked at Phoebe, she saw herself, only younger and thinner. Phoebe had her blonde hair and small build. From her father she'd inherited two things—his blue eyes and his independent nature. “She's only doing what girls and boys her age do. It's that time in their lives where they figure out who they are and who they want to be with. I trust we've done everything we can to teach her what's right.”

“I thought helping out at the school would settle her down, but from the stories Hannah tells, all she does is play baseball at recess and eat everyone's cookies from the lunch boxes. I don't know how Deborah puts up with her.”

“Deborah is like a big sister to her. She knows how to steer her in the right direction better than anyone.”

Silas's expression said he didn't think that meant much. “I saw her talking on a cell phone out behind the barn the other day.”

“I know.”

“I won't abide phones in this house.”

“She knows that. When she's baptized all that will stop, anyway.”

The flickering light of the pole lamp cast shadows across the room, making the lines on her husband's face seem harsh. He chose a seat on the only chair in the room rather than his usual spot next to her on the bed. “How can we be sure of that?”

“We can't. You know that. Like Martin and Simon and Jesse before
her, she has to make her own way. We've been through this three times already. We'll go through it four more times after her. Each time, they'll make the decision to come into the church and marry one of our kind.”

“Phoebe's different.”

“She's more willful, but she also feels more deeply.” Katie measured her words. Silas was the fairest man she'd ever known, but he didn't see much gray, only black and white. “There's so much of you in her.”

“Me?” He snorted, his beard bobbing. “You're daft, woman. She's like a tulip in a field of dandelions. I don't know how she got there or what to do with her.”

“She's smart. She gets things quicker than most, but because of that she flits around from one thing to the next, all excited for something new. She'll calm down. You did.” Katie stood, her knees popping, hips protesting, and went to him. She scooted between the chair and the wall so she could put her hands on his shoulders and knead the tight muscles she knew she'd find there. His head dropped and he sighed. His muscles were like stone. She kneaded harder. “Don't you remember what it was like when we were courting?”

His enormous hands, tough as leather, came up and covered hers. He squeezed in a tight grip. “Like it was yesterday.”

“Do you remember how it felt?” Inhaling his man scent, Katie dropped small kisses on hair far sparser than it used to be. “How big it felt…like we were the first ones to ever feel that way?”

“That's the problem. I do remember.” Silas's deep voice rasped with emotion Katie knew he would never express. He pushed her hands away and swiveled in the chair so he sat sideways and she could see the unspoken want in his eyes. He pulled her toward him. “Come here, fraa.”

Laughing, she tumbled into his lap. The ache in her back and feet disappeared. “Silas! You'll want to check on the young folks in a bit. You know you will. You won't be able to stand it.”

“I'll have plenty of time for that. They'll be out there half the night, you know that. I remember what it was like to be young and not need sleep.”

His arms slid around her in a hug that held her tight against his
warm body. She snuggled against his chest, listening to the steady
thump, thump
of a heart she knew better than her own.

“I'm worried about her,” he whispered in her ear. “We had the strength or the will or the faith to do the right thing. I'm not sure she does.”

“Gott will see her through.” Katie lifted her face to Silas's. “Besides, I suspect she's set her sights on Michael and you and I both know he's a good young man. He'll make a good husband. The kind who can rein Phoebe in.”

“She's too young to be anyone's fraa.”

“In your mind she's still eight. She's grown-up now.”

“She doesn't act like it.”

“It's time for her to wed and start her own family.”

Silas shook his head and smiled. “I remember when you were that age.”

“Me too.”

Silas's lips covered hers.

Thank You, Gott, that some things never change.

A creak that sounded like a shot in the deep silence of a country night brought Katie out of the chair so fast she nearly fell. Silas grabbed her arm to steady her and popped to his feet.

Lydia stood in the doorway, her eyes squinting against the light. She pushed the door wider and padded into the room, her nightgown—a hand-me-down from Hannah—dragging on the floor behind her. Another one who looked like Katie but acted like her daed.

“Mudder?” Her plaintive tone said it all. “I need you. Hannah's asleep and she won't wake up.”

“What's a matter, little one?” Silas responded first, his tone stern despite the twitch in his lips that told Katie he was trying hard not to laugh. “We've had this talk already tonight. You're supposed to be in bed.”

Sniffling, Lydia rubbed at her eyes with the back of her plump hands. “I had a bad dream and I need a drink of water.”

“No water at this time of night. You'll only have to get up again later.” Katie snatched the lantern from the small table next to the bed
and took her daughter's hand. Little girls were so much easier at this age, but they still had to learn. Teach now or pay with a willful child later. “Back to bed.”

“But the dream—”

“It was only a dream and it's over now. Dreams aren't real. You know that.”

She led Lydia from the room without looking back, knowing that Silas's grin would only make her giggle like a girl.

She almost made it. His deep, hoarse chuckle floated on the air. “Hurry back, fraa.”

Katie slapped her hand to her mouth, but the giggle escaped.

“What's so funny, Mudder?” Lydia frowned, her freckled nose wrinkling. Like Phoebe, she had Silas's brilliant blue eyes. “Am I funny?”

“Nee. It's nothing. Your daed told me a silly joke, that's all.”

Thank You, Gott, that some things never change.

Phoebe sang out. She let her voice mingle with Rachel's and the other girls'. She loved the faster songs, the ones that made her breathe harder and her heart lift. Truth be told, even if she weren't at a courting age, she would love the singing anyway. Even if Michael hadn't brought his buggy, which meant he had no intention of asking her or anyone else to take a ride after the singing. She should find some bit of comfort in the fact that not only did he not have an interest in her, he didn't have an interest in anyone else.

The voices climbed and then faded away as the song ended. She sighed. Such a lovely, peaceful feeling she received in these hymns. Smoothing her apron, she rose from the pile of hay that she shared with her friends. Time to bring out the lemonade and sweet tea. “Can you help me carry out the drinks?” She included all three girls in the sweep of her glance. Might as well make one trip. It'd been a long day. “We need more cookies too.”

“Sure.” Rachel smoothed back a few wisps of her strawberry blond hair that had escaped her kapp and scrambled to her feet. Her gaze
fluttered over Phoebe's shoulder. Phoebe glanced back. Michael's cousin Richard Bontrager stood by the barn door, one hand propped on the wall. Rachel grabbed Phoebe's arm and leaned in close to her ear, her whisper barely audible over the chatter of two dozen young folks. “I think Richard's waiting for you. Maybe you should go on ahead.”

“Nee. He's not.” Her gaze connected with Richard's. He grinned and ducked his head. Maybe he was. “I mean…”