I’ve never met a mann like him.
Carolyn stood in the backyard while Atlee inspected the roof. He’d already looked at the foundation and hadn’t seen any problems there, which was a huge relief. She’d told him about the fallen shingles before he climbed up on the roof, and hopefully he wouldn’t find anything else wrong with it.
She should be in the phone shanty calling the local paper and putting out an ad for bakery help. Karen and Ivy had offered to work for her for free, but she’d turned them down. Probably a dumb decision, like a lot of the other decisions she’d made lately, but she couldn’t ask them to change their minds now. Besides, she’d set aside some money to hire and pay two people for at least a month.
But instead of calling the paper, she was watching Atlee, praying silently he wouldn’t fall. He was in good shape, but neither of them were spring chickens, and it would take only one slip for him to fall off the roof. She couldn’t live with herself if that happened. This man had planned to be on vacation, and now he was doing all this work for her—which not only touched her but confused her. Why was he so eager to help her? She was a stranger to him, and they had only their Amish faith in common.
He was also attractive, something she couldn’t stop focusing on while he was inspecting the roof.
He was up there only a few minutes, but it felt longer. Finally, he descended the ladder. When his feet touched the ground, she went to him, thankful he wasn’t injured. “Are you okay?” The question flew out of her mouth before she realized it.
“I’m fine.” He pushed his hat from his forehead, and she saw the perspiration on his skin. Today was the hottest one yet, and a twinge of guilt hit her.
“I’ll get you a drink,” she said, rushing inside. She filled another cup with water and was prepared to take it outside when she heard the squeak of the screen door. She’d meant to oil that last week.
When she gave him the drink, he downed it, then smiled.
Such a warm smile. Her palms grew damp, and she thrust her hands behind her.
“Other than the missing shingles, the roof looks gut. And since I didn’t see any problems with the foundation, it probably won’t take me more than a week to finish up here.”
“Really?” Hope filled her heart.
“Really.” He grinned again.
“But I don’t want to take up all yer time here in Birch Creek. What about Thomas and his familye?”
“I can extend mei stay.”
“Isn’t there someone waiting for you back home?”
His gaze met hers. The same shadow that passed over his eyes when he mentioned his late wife had returned.
He tilted his head. “What about you?”
She looked at the hardwood floor and the tip of her shoe, realizing he didn’t answer her question. She was prudent enough not to pry. “What about me?”
“Anyone . . . special?”
An incomplete question, but she caught his meaning. “Oh yeah,” she said, looking up at him and laughing. “I’ve got men lined up at the door for me.” Her laugh faded at his serious look. Her choice to laugh off her nervousness had been the wrong one. “Nee. There’s nee one special.”
The corner of his lips lifted, but she wasn’t sure what that meant. Was he glad to hear she wasn’t married or dating? But that didn’t make any sense. He still had his beard, and he was clearly devoted to his late wife. She had been a blessed woman to have that kind of loyalty. No, he wasn’t interested in her. He was a kind man who lived out his faith. She shouldn’t read anything else into it.
“I’ll need to get some supplies,” he said. “Landscaping material, something to patch the ceiling, some paint, that kind of stuff. If you tell me where I can get those things, I’ll pick them up this afternoon and bring them over tomorrow.”
“There’s a hardware store and a nursery in Barton. You’ll need to hire a taxi to get there.” The bill was adding up, and he hadn’t even started working.
“Nee problem. Can you recommend a driver?”
She bit her bottom lip. “Actually, I haven’t used too many taxis since I’ve been here.”
“How long is that?”
“Two months.”
“Ah.” He adjusted his hat again. “Now it’s all making sense.”
She frowned. “What is?”
“Why the community isn’t helping you, other than yer bruder and nephews. I’m sure it’s hard moving to a new place, much less getting a business started.”
“Uh . . .” She could let him think she was new to the community, but if he was staying here for more than a couple of days, he would probably find out the truth. She tried never to lie. “I’m from Birch Creek. I moved back here from Nappanee.”
“Oh.”
She started placing bread twists on a paper plate. “You can take these to the Bontragers,” she said, hoping he’d get the hint that she wasn’t going to tell him anything else.
“I’m sure they’ll enjoy them.”
Only when she finished covering the plate with plastic wrap did she look at him. “I’ll get you a check for the supplies.”
“I’ll cover them. You can pay me back later.”
She didn’t answer him as she handed him the plate, and then she went to the small room next to the pantry. It had been a mudroom, but she converted most of it to a tiny office, leaving only the back door intact. She sat down at her desk and pulled out her checkbook. When she looked at the balance, she cringed. She’d have to make do with one employee to start, because she wasn’t going to be any further indebted to Atlee than she already was.
When she returned to the kitchen, she opened the checkbook. “How much do you need?”
“I’m not sure.” He set the plate of twists on the table. “Seriously, you can pay me later.”
She gave him a direct look. “How much?”
He paused, then told her an amount. She held back a wince and wrote out the check. “Here.”
Atlee took it, his frown deepening. “Are you sure?”
“Ya. I’m sure.”
“All right. I’ll be back in the morning, then.” He picked up the twists, gave her one last look, then walked into the outer room and through the front door.
She put her hands on the table and sighed. She had just enough money in her account to finish what was necessary to open the bakery—as long as nothing else went wrong. According to Atlee, she was so close to making her dream a reality. That lifted her spirits enough to allow her to set her worry to the side, at least for the time being.
At the end of the day, Carolyn was locking the front door when she saw Atlee walking up the driveway. What was he doing back? “Did something happen?” she said, going to him. She should have known something would go wrong.
He shook his head. “Everything’s fine. I just came by to give you these.” He handed her several door catalogs.
She wanted to sag against him with relief. She was so sure disaster would strike just as she was gaining hope. I should have more faith than that. “Danki, but you could have given these to me tomorrow morning.”
“I thought you might want to look at them tonight.” He swatted at a fly between them. “They have a lot of choices. How was yer afternoon?”
“Gut. I put an ad in the local paper for a cashier—”
“You’re hiring outside the community?”
“Ya.” His question annoyed her. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get home.”
“Since you’re walking today, mind if I walk with you? We’re going in the same direction.”
She looked up at him. Only one man had walked her home, and he had been a seventeen-year-old boy. Micah Hostetler. She’d had a crush on him for six months, even though she was almost twenty, and when he offered to walk her home from a singing, she couldn’t believe it. That was shortly after she moved to Birch Creek with Freemont and Mary when they had newly married. None of them had known what they were getting into with Emmanuel Troyer.
“Carolyn?”
“Uh, sure. It’s a free country.” What was wrong with her? She sounded like a surly teenager. “I mean, ya. I’d appreciate the company.”
The sun was low in the sky, but the temperature was still warm. Birds fluttered in the trees and chirped as they walked along the side of the road.
“Not too much traffic around here,” Atlee said.
“Did you get the supplies you need?” She wasn’t in the mood for him to point out her mistake in choosing this location.
“Ya. But I had to order the materials to fix the ceiling, and they’re delivering a load of mulch here tomorrow. I picked out a few plants, but I wasn’t sure what you wanted.”
“I’m sure anything you choose will be fine. I’ve never been gut with plants.”
Atlee slipped one hand into his pants pocket. “But yer bruder is a farmer.”
“He has ten green fingers. Mine are all black.”
“Doesn’t affect yer baking skills.”
She chuckled. “Nee, it doesn’t.”
They walked a little while longer, and she thought that would be the end of their conversation. Thomas’s house wasn’t that far, and she didn’t expect him to walk with her to Freemont’s. But when they were a few yards from the Bontragers’, he said, “Why did you move back to Birch Creek?”
She gripped the catalogs in her hand. “To open a bakery.”
“You didn’t want to open one in Nappanee?”
Why was he being so nosy? But he was also helping her, so she felt she owed him some explanation. “I worked in the RV industry when I moved there. I needed a job, and even though the economy was difficult at the time, there was an opening, and I had to take the work I could get. The area has several bakeries, but they never hire outside their familye and friends.” She tasted the bitterness of her words, and she wished she hadn’t said anything.
“That’s usually how it works, which is why I’m surprised you’re hiring outside the community.”
She’d had enough of his interrogation. “I can walk by myself from here,” she said, quickening her steps.
“Carolyn, I’m . . .”
But she didn’t answer him or turn around. He was getting too close, too personal, and they barely knew each other. But that wasn’t the only reason she was rushing off. She had to get away from him before she told him everything. She could easily find herself doing that.