The Heart's Journey: Stitches in Time Series #2 (15 page)

And then there were some very unique quilts donated to the cause by ladies from several quilting guilds. Maybe next year she’d donate several of the quilts that the bishop back home had thought were “not Amish enough.”

Maybe she’d sew some quilts based on the sketches she’d made while she waited for the fish to bite that day, designs with all the tropical wildlife and colors of this exotic state she was visiting. Hmm … she found her mind racing as she walked around the handicraft of other women.

John and Nick disappeared in the direction of other donated items: farm equipment and handcrafted furniture and tools.

The scent of food drifted through the tent. Those who’d come early and skipped breakfast back at their own places drank coffee and ate bacon, egg, and cheese sandwiches as they sat at tables—
Englisch
shoulder to shoulder with the Amish and Mennonite attendees.

One little girl with blond wisps of hair escaping her snowy
kapp
clutched a fresh glazed doughnut so big she’d slipped her chubby fingers through the hole and had difficulty stretching them to grasp it. Sugary icing crusted her mouth as she chewed. A churn cranked out homemade ice cream and loud popping came from a cast-iron skillet being used for kettle corn.

Naomi hadn’t eaten much for breakfast—John had come early to wait for his ride—so the little girl’s glazed doughnut looked so good she couldn’t resist buying one. It tasted heavenly, sweet and sugary on the outside, the inside light and fluffy, melting in her mouth. She accompanied it with a cup of coffee instead of a juice box like the little girl drank.

The tent filled rapidly. People knew to come early to inspect the goods and get the good buys. An auctioneer welcomed them to what he said was the seventeenth annual auction sponsored by the Amish and Mennonites to benefit Haiti, then began his rapid-fire urging for bids, shrewdly encouraging the members of the auction audience to bid more and more.

Nick came to take his seat, but Naomi didn’t see John. She frowned when Nick grinned at her. “What?”

“You have something sugary around your mouth. What have you been eating?”

She reached into her pocket and found a tissue. “A glazed donut,” she admitted.

He gestured at her mouth. “You missed a place. No, the other side.”

When he started to reach to show her where, she stiffened. He quickly dropped his hand. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she said and swiped at her mouth again. “Gone?”

“Gone.” His dark eyes were intent on hers. He dragged his gaze away and looked around. “By the way, where’s John?”

“I don’t know. I thought he was with you.”

“He was, for a while. Then he saw someone he knew. Some guy.”

She didn’t know he knew anyone here. At least, he hadn’t said anything.

“Naomi, look!” Leah jerked her head to the front of the tent where two young Amish men held up a quilt. “That’s one of the ones you donated!”

“Really?” Nick sat up straighter and checked it out. “Nice!”

“Nice?” Naomi asked him.

“You know. Looks good.” He shrugged and looked a little sheepish. “Hey, I’m a guy. I don’t wax poetic.”

“Wax?”

“Never mind. Sssh.”

She wanted to ask him why he wanted her to be quiet. It wasn’t as if he cared about quilts. His eyes widened and he whistled at the figure the auctioneer started the bidding at.

“You don’t think it’s worth it?” she asked, unoffended.

“No—I mean, I’m sure it is,” he said. “I just had no idea.”

He raised the numbered paddle in his hand.

“What are you doing?” she cried.

“Bidding. What’s it look like?”

Scandalized, she pulled at his arm. “Stop that!”

“Hey, I like it and the money goes for a good cause.”

“You can’t afford it!” she hissed as someone outbid him.

He gave her an affronted glance but winced when he heard a second bidder go higher. Still, he started to raise his paddle. Naomi pulled at his sleeve and turned to her grandmother.

“
Grossmudder
, make him stop!”

“What’s going on?” John asked as he appeared.

He frowned as he looked at Naomi’s hand on Nick’s arm.

9

N
ick could sense the tension emanating from John.

Maybe he’d have felt the same way if he’d walked up and seen his fiancée touching another man’s arm. Especially since the Amish were careful about that type of thing—about public displays.

“Nick’s trying to bid on my quilt,” Naomi said.

John took a seat next to Nick. “If you like the quilt I’m sure Naomi will make you one for a lot less money when you get back home.”

He sounded bored but Nick sensed that he was hiding a discontent. He started to suggest that he could switch seats with John so that he could sit next to Naomi, but something held him back.

He hoped it wasn’t jealousy on his part.

“Please, Nick, I’ll make you a quilt.”

Nick heard the auctioneer calling, “Going once, going twice!” and the final bid. He gulped. Any illusions that he could afford the quilt had just been shattered.

“They cost that much?”

“Not the one I’ll make you,” she said, laughing. “Besides, you did my grandmother and me quite a favor driving us here.”

John’s head snapped up. “What, you’re not paying him?”

“Nick wouldn’t let Grandmother and me pay him what we should,” Naomi said quietly. “And he’s constantly asking us if we need him to drive us someplace or pick up anything.”

John shot him a look that Nick could only describe as disbelieving.

Shrugging, Nick focused on the auction. Every so often he cast a surreptitious glance at Naomi, who appeared to be enjoying the selling of the quilts. Only when they were gone did she seem a little restless.

Nick moved a seat closer to Leah to make room for a woman looking to sit down. He turned to Leah. “Having a good time?”

“
Wunderbaar
,” she said, smiling. “It’s a great auction.”

John had looked at the handcrafted furniture and tools that were for sale, since he was a carpenter by trade, but Nick noticed that he didn’t seem interested in bidding on anything. Maybe that was because he didn’t want to have to haul it back with him on the bus to Pennsylvania.

Naomi asked if anyone wanted anything from the food concessions, and when she got up and left them, John followed her.

At first, Nick thought that the other man went along to help carry food back, but it seemed John was saying something to Naomi that put an unhappy expression on her face.

Nick decided that he had even more reason to dislike John. Not that he’d needed any. When he felt a tug on his sleeve, he glanced over and found Leah staring at him.

“Aren’t you having a good time?”

“Sure.”

Had she noticed that he was tracking her granddaughter? He hoped not.

“I’m just not interested in farm equipment,” he told her. “I think I’ll stretch my legs for a while.”

Leah smiled and patted his hand, then turned her attention back to the auction.

Nick walked through the crowd that milled around the auction and went outside. Dozens of people were outside talking. Such an event would have been fun enough in this little town, but coming together to help out the people of one of the poorest countries in the world—something this community had been doing for years—appeared to lend an air of excitement.

Many of those he passed exchanged a smile with him; it didn’t seem to matter if they were Amish or Mennonite or
Englischer
.

He didn’t know it was possible to be surrounded by so many people and feel so lonely.

It wasn’t rational, he told himself. Even though he spent most of his working day ferrying people around—most of whom either chatted with someone with them or spent much of the time talking on a cell phone or doing paperwork or just enjoying some quiet time—he was a solitary man.

He was nearly thirty, and while he hadn’t been in a rush, on his last birthday he’d been surprised that he hadn’t been married by now. Somewhere along the way he’d thought he’d meet someone in his work—after all, he didn’t just drive the Amish around—but he guessed it was like Daniel had told him: he met mostly tourists.

Then, one day Leah had called him and asked if she could arrange daily transportation between work and home for herself and her granddaughters.

The three granddaughters had similar looks as cousins and, of course, wore similar Plain dress. But that’s where the similarity ended. Mary Katherine stood taller and her hair had auburn tones to it. She’d seemed more withdrawn, less
confident when he’d first met her but had really blossomed as her ability at her loom grew—and as she fell in love with Jacob.

Anna was the smallest of the three and yet exuded such energy that she seemed the most vibrant. Her moods swung from one end of the spectrum to the other so quickly. And he’d never known anyone so curious … well, downright nosy.

And Naomi. She’d become quieter and more introspective in the past few months.

He’d always thought that instant attraction was the stuff of those romances women read. The whole thing was ludicrous in any event. Amish and
Englisch
might mix as friends and often did. But they didn’t marry. Naomi had been baptized and, he quickly found out, was engaged to an Amish man. They would have been married by now but the
Ordnung
dictated that they couldn’t marry until after the harvest.

They’d become friends—even more so traveling here. She’d never indicated any kind of interest in him. Ever. And even if he’d suspected she wasn’t happy with John, she continued to stay with him. He’d even come here to see her.

Nick considered himself a realist. Even if he’d wanted to go out to a club and meet a woman, he knew if it got around that he visited a drinking establishment he might put his career as a driver at risk. Besides, he wasn’t really comfortable with the dating scene. His friends often teased him for being bookish. Introverted. And, like the Amish he drove, born into the wrong century.

He supposed that they were right. Although he loved his personal car and the bigger vehicles he used for transport, and technology like his e-reader and his cell phone, he tended toward quieter activities like reading. Recently, he’d tried dabbling in writing the occasional short story. His idea of an ideal evening? Dinner with friends. Good conversation.

Such an evening, Nick reflected with some irony, wasn’t really much different than an evening his Amish counterparts might enjoy.

Matter of fact, once a friend had even teased Nick that he seemed more Amish than some Amish he knew.

“I hope you’re happy.”

Naomi looked at John standing there, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket. She often saw other women staring at him, thinking he was good-looking. They often flirted with him, even after she and John had announced their engagement.

But right now, when he was … there could be no other word for it than
pouting
—his bottom lip was thrust out and he glowered like a little boy who hadn’t gotten his way.

She sighed. “I’m not happy, John. But if you’d asked me about coming here, I could have saved you the trouble.”

“Are you saying I needed your permission?” His tone was quiet because there were people nearby. But his mouth thinned and his eyes went cold.

“Are
you
saying I can’t go on vacation with my grandmother without having you come, too?” she asked him, keeping her voice level. “We’re not married yet.”

Instantly his expression changed, and he took her hands in his. “I just wanted to spend some time with you.”

This wasn’t doing anyone any good, she thought. They were just going around and around.

She used the excuse that her purse slipped off her shoulder to pull her hands from his. He resisted at first, tightening his fingers around hers, and then finally let her go.

“I’ll be back in Paradise before you know it,” she said lightly as people milled around them.

He bent to kiss her and when Naomi turned, he grasped her forearms and she gasped.

“You’re hurting me!” she cried.

“What a fuss,” he said, letting her go. “All I wanted was a good-bye kiss,” he told her. “Is that too much to ask?”

“John, you know we don’t do that in public.” Naomi rubbed at her forearms and frowned. “You hurt me.”

He took off his hat and ran his hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean to. You know that. You just get me so upset. Why do you do that?”

It was her fault again.

“There’s no reason you don’t want me around here, is there? Aside from wanting to spend time with your grandmother.”

“Of course not.”

“You’re
schur
?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I want you around?” She told herself she had no reason to feel guilty. But she did because she didn’t want him around right now. And she did because she’d had impure thoughts about Nick. She hadn’t acted on them though, so she had no reason to feel guilty.

“What about this Nick who drove you here?”

“Nick drove my grandmother and me here. He’s our driver. You know that.”

“Is that all?” His eyes were intent on her. Tension radiated from him.