Elijah placed the mug of coffee on the table in front of Zach, then took the chair opposite. For several seconds the tension thickened as neither of them spoke.
Zach outlined the top of the mug with his finger. “I heard the accident was bad.”
“Jah, it was.” Elijah looked down. It was easier to study the coffee grounds floating on the surface of his drink than to make eye contact.
Silence returned.
Guilt ratcheted Elijah’s throat. Even turning and coughing into his fisted hand did little to lessen the constriction.
“I haven’t stopped looking for her.” Elijah’s thoughts spilled out. He lifted his gaze to Zach’s. “I check for new updates every time I go into town. The authorities know she’s still missing. I won’t let them forget.”
“That’s what Bishop Zook said.”
“Bishop Zook of Posen district?” As he asked the question, he caught sight of the foiled plate. “The bishop’s fraa wanted me to bring you this. You never made it to supper.”
“Of Hopewater—your next-door neighbor,” Zach clarified sharply. “Imagine mei surprise when I heard your woes told to me by the bishop. You lost the love of your life—only you failed to tell him that you lost Catherine six years ago.”
Elijah swallowed hard.
Zach pushed away from the table and stood. “How did you happen to be going to Florida at the same time as Catherine? Did you two plan to leave together?”
“Nay—well, she didn’t.” Elijah’s gaze followed Zach as he paced to the door and back. “Catherine had no idea until I boarded the bus.”
Zach’s jaw muscle twitched.
Elijah motioned to the chair. “Please, sit down. Let’s talk this over.”
Zach grumbled under his breath something Elijah couldn’t decipher, but he plopped down on the chair and crossed his arms. “Talk.”
“I ran into Cat at the bus station when she was there to purchase her ticket. I found out she was going to Florida, and I changed my ticket. She didn’t know. At the time . . .”
“What?”
“She was hurt—humiliated really. That nacht in the barn when she asked you to marry her, you—you stomped on her heart.”
“So did you when you ran off to Badger Creek and got married. You don’t think that devastated her?”
Elijah closed his eyes. “I know it did.”
“Did you know I proposed to Catherine the nacht before she left?”
His friend’s words cut to the marrow, and rightfully so—he’d been betrayed. Elijah nodded. “She told me.” His stomach twisted. He’d known about the proposal and pursued her anyway. Perhaps it had been wishful thinking at the time, but something told him that she wouldn’t have gotten on a bus heading to Florida—for an extended period of time—had she accepted Zach’s proposal. “Why did she go?”
“Mei proposal didn’t change her mind about spending the winter in Florida. She had promised her cousin she would help in her bakery and—” Zach shrugged. “I messed up. I should have tried harder to change her mind.”
“She was only going to be gone a few months,” Elijah said, shamefully recalling how he’d planned to use those months to woo Catherine and convince her to fall in love with him. Now he was sorry Zach hadn’t tried harder. Had she stayed home, there would have been no chance for the two of them. She would be planning a wedding, but at least she would be alive.
His eyes moistened with tears and his throat clumped. “There’s something I have to tell you. The authorities believe . . . she’s dead.”
Zach blinked a few times, and tears spilled down his cheeks. “When you said in your letter they’re waiting until the river thaws . . .”
“I haven’t given up hope.”
Zach wiped his face. “In the morning I need to drop off a miniature grandfather clock I made for the Beacon furniture store, but then I’m planning to head back to Michigan. I think you should kumm back home. The Englisch driver I hired has plenty of room, especially after I drop off the clock.”
“Did Beverly bring you?” She’d been very concerned about Catherine every time Elijah had called with an update.
Zack nodded. “She dropped me off at Bishop Zook’s and is spending the nacht with her niece, but she’ll be here first thing in the morning to pick us up—if you want to go back to Posen.” He went to the door. “You can think about it and let me know in the morning.”
Elijah didn’t have to think about it. He wasn’t leaving Hopewater. Posen would never feel like home again—not without Catherine.
“Dr. Wellington tells me that he’s going to show you around the barns today,” Cynthia said as she flipped a pancake on the griddle.
“He insisted.”
“Yes, but what I want to know is, what did you say to get him out of his melancholy?”
“Nothing.” She couldn’t tell if Cynthia was pleased with her or ready to scold her for bothering the good doctor. Julie shook her head. “I was down on my hands and knees scrubbing the floor when he came into the kitchen with his plate. He must not have seen me at first, because I startled him enough that he dropped his milk glass, and it shattered on the floor. While we were cleaning it up, he asked if I’d had a chance to see the horses, and I said—”
“Shh.” Cynthia motioned with a nod toward the back door.
Dr. Wellington entered, a rolled-up newspaper in his hand. “One of these days I’m going to bribe that newspaper man to bring the paper to the house.”
“Nonsense,” Cynthia said. “That walk to the end of the drive every morning does you good. You said yourself it keeps your joints from stiffening.”
“Apparently my hips and knees didn’t listen.”
“It’s going to rain. I can smell it coming,” Cynthia said.
He sat at the table and unrolled the paper. “There’s not much accuracy in being able to smell rain.”
Cynthia turned and waved the pancake flipper at him. “Tell that to the American Indians.”
“You didn’t let me finish. There’s not much accuracy in being able to smell rain when you stay inside the house all day.”
Julie chuckled.
“I think Julie agrees with me,” Doc said.
She covered her mouth with her hand.
“Oh, I would think before you two decide to gang up on me.” Cynthia pointed the flipper from Doc to Julie, who was setting the table. “Especially if you want to eat pancakes today.”
Black smoke rose from the griddle. Cynthia scrambled to remove the pan from the stove. “Now look what you made me do, Doc.”
He chuckled and winked at Julie. “She can smell rain coming from miles away, but she can’t smell something burning next to her.”
“I heard that.”
“I’d better hush before she feeds us cold cereal.” He lifted his paper and gave it a snap. “In other news, the seven-day forecast reports sunshine and a high of forty-eight degrees.”
“It’ll rain.”
Julie found the banter between them refreshing. She certainly wouldn’t describe Doc’s mood as melancholy today, and she guessed that had something to do with Cynthia’s cheerfulness as well.
The back door opened, and a couple of the workers came inside, removed their cowboy hats, and sat at the table. Julie had spotted them leading horses from one barn to another when she was washing windows yesterday, although she’d been more interested in the beautiful horses.
Doc set the paper aside. “Julie, have you met Matthew and Quinn?”
“It’s nice to meet you.” She absentmindedly touched the scar on her face and lowered her head, horrified. How could she have forgotten her scarf?
“Nice to meet you too, Julie,” Matthew, the lankier one, said.
The covering was hanging on a hook on her bedroom door. It would only take a minute to fetch it.
“Julie, why don’t you ask the men if they would like coffee,” Cynthia suggested.
“I’ll take a cup,” Matthew said.
“Me too.”
So much for the scarf. She turned to Doc. “Do you need a refill?”
He tipped his mug and eyed the contents. “Maybe a little if there’s enough.”
The men were already engaged in conversation about horses and feed and fence lines when Julie set their mugs on the table. Thankfully they were kind enough not to stare.
Cynthia set the platter of pancakes in the center of the table, then went back for the plate of bacon and sausage. “Julie, if you could grab the butter from the refrigerator and syrup from the microwave, I think we’ll be all set.”
“Sure.” She found the butter, but figuring out how to open the microwave was a challenge.
Cynthia came up beside her, pressed a button, and the door opened automatically. “Sometimes it gets stuck.”
“Thank you.” Julie reached inside for the container. “Ach!” She jerked her hand out and stuck the tips of her fingers in her mouth to reduce the burning sensation.
Doc stood. “Are you okay?”
She nodded. Heat spread over her face, realizing everyone had turned their attention to her sucking her fingers.
“I’ll get this. Run some cold water on your hand,” Cynthia said.
The cold water relieved the stinging almost immediately. Julie was the last to sit down, and once she did, Doc said the blessing over the food.
The food dishes went quickly around the table as everyone filled their plates. Most of the men’s chatter was on complimenting Cynthia for how good everything smelled and how hungry they were.
A few minutes into the meal, Cynthia read the day’s itinerary out loud. “We only have one group of children arriving today. Saint Christopher’s School for the Blind. They should be here within the hour. Julie and I will serve lunch at 11:40.”
“How many are coming?” Matthew asked.
“Ten. Ages five to nine. Two are first-time riders. The ten-and-up group will be here next week.”
Matthew turned to Quinn. “We’ll need Penny and Henry brought up from the back pasture.”
Quinn shoved the last forkful of food into his mouth, washed it down with a gulp of coffee, then stood. “On it.”
Matthew and Doc talked about sectioning off the training arena, using one side for beginners and the other for advanced riders. A few minutes later Matthew had finished eating. He pushed away from the table. “Thanks for the meal. Julie, it was nice to meet you. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around.”
“Nice to meet you.” She hoped Doc hadn’t changed his mind about showing her the barn. Hearing them talk about the indoor arena, she was even more curious about the riding facility.
Julie wished she could watch the children interact with the horses and the excitement on their faces when they experienced sitting in the saddle. Julie recalled how frightened she was getting out of bed the first time when she couldn’t see. But Cynthia, who was probably speaking for Doc as well, didn’t want her around the children.
As Julie began to gather the dirty dishes, Cynthia set down her mug and pushed back her chair. “I have this.” Julie motioned for her to sit back down. “Enjoy your coffee.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, absolutely.” Julie couldn’t help but notice the older woman’s reluctance to relinquish any of the kitchen responsibilities, or maybe she wasn’t one to sit long.
“Let her help you,” Doc said.
The lines of tension in Cynthia’s forehead faded. She picked up her mug and took a sip.
Julie rushed through washing the dishes.
Cynthia brought her mug to the sink and rinsed it out. “It’s faster to load the dishwasher.”
“I don’t mind doing them by hand.” Besides, she wouldn’t have any idea how to load it correctly or turn on the machine.
“Let me know when you’re ready to see the barn,” Doc said, flipping through the pages of the newspaper.
An image snapped before her eyes like a photograph of someone sitting in a rocking chair, holding up a newspaper, and then the image was gone.
Doc lowered the paper enough to look over it. “Unless you’d rather wait and go another time.”
“I do want to see it. The dishes shouldn’t take much longer.” She pulled the drain plug, then grabbed a clean dish towel from the drawer.
“Run along,” Cynthia said. “But don’t spend all day in the barn. I’ll need your help preparing lunch.”
Doc refolded the paper and placed it on the table.
Julie tossed the dish towel onto the counter. “Doc, do you mind if I grab something real quick?”
“No, go ahead.”
She dashed out of the kitchen, went to her bedroom, and swiped the scarf off the door peg, then returned moments later with her scarf tied at the base of her neck.
Doc’s white bushy brows pulled together. “You sure you want to wear that scarf? Looks mighty fancy to go out to the barn.”
“It’ll be all right.”
Someone trounced up the basement steps. The door opened and Cynthia appeared, breathless and holding a pair of shin-high rubber boots. “You’ll want to wear these.”
“Good idea.” The pair of sneakers Amy had given her were all she had. She slipped her feet into the boots. Her toes pinched.
Cynthia stood over her. “They look small. Do they fit?”
“Like a glove.” Even tight, the boots were better than getting her shoes dirty. She bundled up in her wool winter coat, another necessity Amy had supplied.
Outside, the soft ground squished underfoot. The weather was much warmer than she expected, and her heavy coat felt cumbersome. They reached the paddock, and Doc held open the door. Julie took in a deep breath, filling her lungs to capacity with the scent of horses, then let it out slowly.
“You’re smiling like you’ve gone to heaven,” Doc said.
“I can’t explain it, but I recognize this scent.”
He frowned apologetically. “The stalls are normally cleaned every day.”
“Oh, the odor doesn’t bother me.” She closed her eyes and inhaled and exhaled again. She reopened her eyes at the sound of a horse’s neigh. “Aren’t you a beauty.”
“Be careful,” Matthew said, leading a horse out of the stall next to her. “That nag bites.”
She scratched the white star on the horse’s head. “You’re too beautiful to be called a nag.”
“This is Star,” Doc said. “And unfortunately, she is a biter.”
Thwack. Hinges rattled. Thwack.
Julie gave the mare a final pat on the neck, then moved down the stalls, looking for the restless horse. Most of the stalls were empty. She stepped aside as Quinn brought a spotted horse out from a stall.
Thwack.
“Token’s in another foul mood,” Quinn told Doc as he walked the horse past them.
“He already kicked the gate off its hinges once. I found him in here roaming around the other day. He gave me a rough time putting him back too.”
Julie had to see the horse they were talking about. She stopped in front of the stall and peered in at the giant. “Hiya, boy.”
“Julie, no!”