Are you hurt, miss?”
Catherine squinted up at the broad-shouldered man hovering over her and grimaced. Blinding light obscured her vision. It wasn’t until he crouched beside her that she noticed his bushy red hair and his amber, almost glowing, eyes. Drawn to the glimmer of gold flecks dancing around his pupils, she forgot about the throbbing knot on the back of her head.
“Should I call for an ambulance, miss?” Lines in his forehead rooted his weathered skin. “Miss?”
A high-pitched buzzing sound filled her ears, blocking out the stranger’s deep baritone voice. She cupped her hands over her ears, but the ringing didn’t stop. If anything, the sound intensified.
The good Samaritan placed his large hands over hers. Despite lying on the frozen ground, being wet, cold, and shaky, the moment his calloused hands touched her, she warmed from within. He uttered a string of gentle, undecipherable words, then moved his hands away from hers. The ringing stopped, and a sweet scent filled her senses.
She quickly pushed off the ground. “How did you—?” A wave of dizziness washed over her at the same time her knees went weak. The man must have sensed her wooziness, because just as her legs buckled, he reached out and steadied her with his strong hand.
“You need not ask how,” the elderly gentleman said, “but instead, turn your eyes upon your loving Father in heaven and give Him praise.”
Catherine closed her eyes. Father, danki for watching over me, and for sending this stranger to help. Please continue to keep me safe. Amen.
“‘The LORD is good to all; he has compassion on all he has made.’” The man pointed to a young sparrow perched on the top of a fence post. “‘Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them.’”
“Even in the winter,” she added.
“Are you not much more valuable than they?”
Was she? Surely God had to be disappointed in the way she’d treated Elijah. She recalled Elijah at the gathering, standing in front of the members, how his eyes had moistened and how he kept touching his throat as though manually trying to push a lump aside in order to talk.
The songbird’s chirping caught her attention. Perhaps the little bird was singing its own praises to God. “Don’t you find it odd that it didn’t migrate south for the winter with the other sparrows?”
When the man didn’t reply, she glanced over her shoulder. The stranger was gone. How can that be? A shiver cascaded down Catherine’s spine as she looked in both directions down the road. Had she hit her head so hard on the ice that she’d simply imagined the red-haired man? The sweet fragrance, which she recognized as lilac, engulfed her senses. For sure her mind was playing tricks. Lilacs didn’t bloom in winter.
Prompted by a nudge on her arm, Catherine peeled back the covers without opening her eyes and made room on the mattress for her niece. This was becoming a habit. Julie had to learn to sleep the night in her own bed. But instead of feeling her niece’s warm little body snuggle up beside her, Catherine felt a second, deeper poke on her arm. She opened her eyes a smidgen, but a flood of blinding sunlight prevented her from focusing on the five-year-old.
“It’s time to eat, Aenti Catherine.”
Catherine climbed out of bed. It had been two days since she’d fallen on the ice, and her head was still swirling and her joints ached as if she’d been trampled by a plow team. She touched the back of her head. The egg-sized bump hadn’t gone down. She smiled at Julie. “Tell your mamm I’ll be down in a minute. I have to get dressed.”
A few minutes later Catherine lumbered into the kitchen. “I’m sorry for waking up late again, Gwen.” She went to the sink and washed her hands, then tied an apron around her waist. “What would you like me to do?”
Gwen glanced up from the stove. “Aren’t you going to be late for work?”
Catherine shook her head. “You didn’t hear that Aenti Irma and Faith closed the restaurant for a few months?”
Gwen removed the pot of oatmeal from the stove. “When did they decide to do that?”
“Faith told me on New Year’s Eve. I figured they would have said something on Sunday.” She filled a mug with coffee.
“The topic of everyone’s conversation wasn’t the restaurant.”
“Let me guess. Elijah?”
“And you.” Her sister-in-law picked up her mug of coffee and motioned to the table. “Let’s sit down and talk. George is tending the new calf. He won’t be in anytime soon.”
Catherine followed her to the table. “Is something wrong?”
Gwen shrugged. “I don’t know what’s gotten into Jasmine. Ever since she gave birth, she’s been pushing the babe away. George has had to bottle-feed him every couple of hours.”
“Ach, that’s nett gut.”
“I agree. The special milk it requires is costly.” Gwen sighed. “I guess it is what it is.”
“I’m going to look for another job. I asked Melvin Yoder, and he’s going to let me know.”
“Your bruder’s worried about you. So am I.”
“I have some money saved up—”
“It’s nett about the money,” Gwen said. “Called out the way you were in front of everyone on Sunday, I would have expected your face to take on more of a beet shade, but yours turned as white as bleached sheets.”
Catherine massaged her throbbing temples with the tips of her fingers with no relief.
“Is there something going on between you and Elijah?”
“Nay.” Catherine shook her head for emphasis but stopped when what felt like shards of heated glass seared her head, making her cringe.
“Catherine, are you okay?”
“I have a headache.” Gwen would ask too many questions if Catherine admitted to falling on the ice and a stranger stopping to help her, so she kept that information to herself. Besides, it wasn’t just the lump on her head causing the pain. It had been a week since her proposal, and Zach hadn’t so much as looked her in the eye. “Would you mind if I skip breakfast? I think I need to lie back down.”
“Sure.” Gwen’s brows knitted. “Do you need something for your headache—aspirin or Tylenol?”
“I think if I lie down a little while, I’ll be fine.” Medicine wouldn’t dull her heartache. Only Zach could heal that pain. Catherine took her mug to the sink and rinsed it out.
“Before I forget.” Gwen moved to the basket where she kept the mail. “A letter came for you yesterday. It’s postmarked from Florida.” She handed Catherine the envelope.
“Danki.” Catherine glanced at her cousin’s handwriting. She hadn’t heard from Dawn since last fall. Heading up the stairs, Catherine opened the letter.
Dear Catherine,
I hope this letter finds you well. The weather here has been cool, some days only in the sixties and seventies. I suppose I shouldn’t complain to a northern Michigander. I hear from some of our customers at the bakery (whom we call snowbirds down here) that your area has had a lot of snow this year. I so wish you would come stay the winter with me. I could sure use your help . . . Our bakery has expanded. We’re open for lunch now, serving sandwiches and specialty salads, and we hope to add more items to the menu soon . . .
Catherine continued reading, but her thoughts had stalled on the sentence about Dawn needing her help. Maybe going to Florida was the answer to Catherine’s dilemma. It would be an adventure, traveling so far away—a new journey.