The old carriage creaked along with Abram gripping the reins, the leather biting into his palms as he drove toward a strip of Amish stores that sat outside of town.
Ariana had pencil and paper in hand, trying to whittle the grocery list down to affordable and still get what was needed. When she wasn’t scratching items off, she was staring out the open window, deep in thought.
“Why aren’t you out with Rudy on a Friday night?”
“Hmm?” She turned, the distant look in her eyes fading. “Oh. I think he must’ve gotten behind at work. His aunt dropped by the house this morning to say he had things he needed to do this weekend.” Ariana tapped the pencil on the paper. “Quill’s fund-raising suggestion?”
She had asked Abram a few times to share his thoughts, but he really didn’t want to. In contrast to her being a helium balloon and an optimist, he was a weight and a realist. And to an optimist, a dose of reality only sounded like pessimism.
“Kumm on, Abram. Speak up.”
He shrugged. “You’re not going to like it, and I could be wrong.”
“Still, if you don’t tell me, I won’t be forewarned, right?”
“The last thing I want to do is be discouraging.”
“Then call it being honest.”
He drew a deep breath. “Okay. I have some serious concerns. We both know that buying a business as a single woman is stepping outside the traditional roles upheld in the Old Ways.” If she were married and her husband supported the plan, the ministers and community would view the situation differently, perhaps even as heroic. “We also know that regardless of who is offended or who frowns on you for purchasing a restaurant, you have the right to do it.”
“And you’re helping me buy it, so I’m not just a single woman. It’s us, as a team.”
“No one is going to believe it’s my plan to buy a restaurant, nor would anyone believe I have an interest in or the skills for running it. For years I’ve turned over to you part of my pay from construction to support your dream. Any mention of me doing more than that will be seen for what it is—a cover-up of the truth. If you had the money without doing a benefit, it wouldn’t matter who frowned on it. But to ask people to support your cause by participating in a benefit may be similar to smacking a beehive with a stick.”
Ariana sighed, looking deflated. He should be mature enough that it didn’t hurt his feelings whenever she was disappointed, but it didn’t work that way. He slowed the horse as they approached a red light.
“So is that all of your concerns?”
He hesitated.
She closed her eyes, shaking her head, which, for his sister, was equal to rolling her eyes. “Finish, please.”
After bringing the rig to a stop, he kept his eyes on the light. “Organizing a benefit will cost a lot in money and time.”
“You think Quill is giving bad advice on purpose?”
Abram hadn’t considered that. “Do you?”
“I constantly waver when it comes to Quill. Since he left years ago, everything about him messes with my mind.”
When the light turned green, he tapped the reins against the horse and clicked his tongue. “Look, Quill is grateful you’re a faithful friend to his mother, so it doesn’t make sense for him to lead you wrong on purpose. He’s shared what he thinks will work. I’ve shared my concerns about his plan. But the fact is, time is not on your side. You need to decide what to do.”
“He gave me all the barrels in the cooperage to make various items to sell, and that’s really generous, but I can’t see how we could possibly have enough money to go to closing unless we have a benefit.”
“If you do a benefit, the worst that can happen is you appear to be self-centered, and because of that, few in the community, if any, participate. Best-case scenario is the community backs you, and in the end you have enough money to purchase the café.”
“And then I would feel as if I owe Quill something.”
“Ah. I didn’t realize that was part of what is troubling you.”
“Me either until just now.”
“You have to be tired of thinking about Quill. I know I’m tired of yakking about him.”
“Sorry.” Ariana doodled on the paper for several moments. “Okay. Change of subject. Tell me more about your chance encounter with Barbie on the road last week.”
Abram easily recalled the details. Within forty minutes of sending Barbie home with the medicine, her brother Matt returned with a fresh horse to hitch to the wagon. Matt and Cilla then drove Abram home. “I can’t figure it out, but I wasn’t all thumbs and silence around Barbie that time.”
“You’ve been practicing how to be more outspoken for months, and you’re doing a hundred percent better this year than last. Maybe it just all kicked in right then.”
“Maybe. But it had a different feel to it, like socializing was easy and fun.”
“Interesting.” Ariana marked out another item on her list and made a note, probably listing a less expensive item that would do almost as well. “Any idea why she didn’t go out with you?”
“Not really, except what I already told you—that when I was getting out of the wagon, Matt said, ‘It’s not you; it’s her.’ I asked what he meant, and he said, ‘She likes you well enough.’ ”
“Sounds to me as if you need to ask Barbie why she didn’t go out with you after agreeing to.”
“That seems pushy.”
“It would’ve been better to ask the night she stopped by the house. But when plans are changed, I expect an answer, and I would have to give one if I were in a similar situation and broke the date.”
“It would help to know. Then I could let this go…eventually.” Abram scanned the carriages in the parking lot of the dry goods store. Even though all the buggies were basically the same, each one had something telling about it—dents, touch-up paint, different side mirrors or lights. When he saw Barbie’s family carriage, he pulled in.
“Why are we stopping here?”
“You’re going inside to buy a spool of thread, and while you’re in there, find out if Barbie is in there or if it’s someone else from her family.” He set the brake.
Ariana opened the door. “Sure. You got a plan if she is here?”
“Not a clue.”
Ariana grinned. “But you stopped anyway.” She gave a thumbs-up and hopped out. She reached through the window of the rig and dropped the pencil and paper onto the seat. “Be right back.”
She was still at the side of the carriage when the bell on the fabric-store door clanged, and Cilla walked out. She appeared to be having a really good spell right now despite her cystic fibrosis. Abram couldn’t recall her being out this often or looking this healthy in several years. She spotted Ariana and hurried toward her, smiling. “Hey, Ari.”
“Hi, Cilla.”
“It’s good to see you.” Cilla peered into the carriage. “Abram, hi. I thought you might be in this buggy.”
“Hello. Is your sis—”
“Knock, knock.” Cilla rapped on the closed door to the carriage.
Abram recalled the knock-knock jokes he’d told when their rig broke down. He squelched his desire to know if Barbie was here. “Who’s there?”
“Adore.”
“Adore who?”
“Adore is between us. Open up!”
He chuckled. “Good one. Is your sister here?”
“Ya.” Cilla nodded. “She’s making a purchase, so she’ll be out shortly. Abram, you won’t believe what I saw the other…”
Cilla continued talking, but the words garbled in his head when the bell on the door clanged again. An Amish man Abram didn’t recognize opened the door for Barbie. She had two colors of neatly folded fabric tied with string in one arm as she talked and smiled at the man beside her.
Before Abram could think clearly, he jumped out of the buggy and strode toward Barbie. Apparently disappointment and frustration overrode shyness. “Barbie.”
She came to an abrupt halt, eyes wide as her smile faded. “Hi, Abram.”
He ignored the man and focused on her. But words failed him. “How’s your brother?” Couldn’t he have asked Cilla that?
“Better. Denki.”
Abram glanced at the stranger and held out his hand. “Abram.”
The man neither offered to shake Abram’s hand nor said his name, but there was no trace of offense on his face. He simply looked distracted, studying something behind Abram. Then he pointed. “Your girl?”
Abram turned. Cilla was no longer by his carriage. She was in hers. Ariana had gotten back in the buggy. Is that what had his attention? “My sister.”
The man’s lips curved down, but he was nodding.
Whoever he was, he obviously wasn’t seeing Barbie. He passed a small brown bag to her. “Spoken for?”
“Nathaniel.” Barbie sighed. “You’re being rude, and, yes, she’s dating someone.”
Hadn’t Barbie mentioned the name Nathaniel to Abram a few times over the years? If this was the same one, he was a cousin from Indiana, one Barbie liked as much as she disliked. Abram was beginning to see why.
“Dating someone could be a roadblock.” Nathaniel grinned. “Then again”—he took one long stride forward before leaning back toward Barbie—“that’s up to her, ain’t it?”
“Nathaniel, no.” Barbie shook her head in short, harsh movements.
But Abram wasn’t going to object. He wanted a few minutes with Barbie, and it would take more than an overly confident Amish man to cause Ariana any stress. Nathaniel winked at Barbie and made a beeline for the carriage.
Barbie shifted, lowering her eyes to the pavement.
Abram tried to think of something to say. He’d been so sure he could hold up his end of a conversation that he’d jumped out of the buggy, and now his insides felt like ice. “Need a hand?”
“Nee. I’m fine. It’s just a bit of fabric. Cilla and I got a job sewing dresses for Mervin’s girls for the wedding.”
“That’s nice.”
He knew the rest. Mervin Lapp and his wife had six little girls, and his sister was getting married soon, so they all needed new clothes before the wedding.
Abram removed his hat. “I…I need to know…”
Her cheeks deepened with color. “I came to your home a month ago to break off our date, and you accepted it without question. I don’t know why it’s coming up again, but I’d appreciate it a lot if you’d just drop it.”
“I tried. I did.”
“And I’m grateful you cared enough to ponder on me.” Finally she quit staring at the pavement and peered up at him. “But please, Abram. It’s not proper to make a girl give a reason.” She stepped around him and went to her carriage.
He followed her. “Tell me one thing. Just one. Did you break the date because you wanted to?”
She turned to face him, but she wouldn’t look him in the eye. “You have a lot of good qualities. Otherwise I wouldn’t have agreed for us to go out. But there’s something about you I can’t get past.”
He wanted to know what the something was, but he had pressed her enough. This was as far from the ending he’d hoped for as a man could get. “Okay, I hear you. Bye, Barbie.”
Ariana remained inside the carriage, talking to Nathaniel through the window. “So how long have you been writing poetry?” Had she asked a reasonable question? Nathaniel was on the hunt for a girl, and she didn’t want him to think she was interested, but she was trying to give Abram as much time as possible to talk with Barbie. She wished Cilla hadn’t gone to her carriage so quickly, but maybe she needed to get out of the sun and to sit for a spell.
Out of Ariana’s peripheral vision, she saw an Amish man toting boards and plastic bags out of the hardware store.
Rudy.
When had he arrived? Had he seen her talking to Nathaniel? What must he think? Rudy shoved the two-by-fours into the wagon and tossed the bags on top. He glanced her way, paused a moment, and then pulled a red flag from his pocket and began tying it to the end of the wood.
She tried to open the door to the carriage, but Nathaniel was in the way. “Could you back up? I need to get out of the carriage, please.”
“Sure, little lady. Anything you’d like.” He opened the door for her.
She scrambled out. “Rudy!” She hurried across the parking lot, but he didn’t look up. Was he so angry with her that he wasn’t even going to respond?
This caring about what a guy thought was new, and she couldn’t say it was particularly appealing. Nonetheless she ran, waving her arms and willingly looking desperate. “Rudy!”
He paused, frowning. A moment later his beautiful smile lightened her heart. “Well, look who’s here.”
He hadn’t seen her before now? Relief that he wasn’t angry caused her to keep running until she was in his arms. Public displays of affection were frowned on, but at this moment she didn’t care. What he did to her heart was just short of amazing, and she didn’t want to lose it. He picked her up and twirled her around once, laughing, and then set her feet on the ground. His smile said it all. He was very pleased to see her. “What are you doing here?” He looked past her and saw Nathaniel beside the door of her carriage.
“He’s a cousin of Barbie’s, visiting from Indiana, and I was keeping him busy talking so Abram could get a moment alone with Barbie. What are you doing here?”
“Right now,” Rudy chuckled, “I’m enjoying that you’re intent on making sure the record is straight about Barbie’s cousin.”
Her heart pounded. “That obvious, huh?”
“Don’t let it rattle you.” He held her hand and kissed her cheek. “I’m here because I care about you. Yesterday I had an idea about some items I could make that should fetch a good price at a yard sale or something, and we can use the money to go toward the café.”
“You’re doing that for me?”
He squeezed her hand. “That’s why we aren’t going out tonight.”
“Denki.”
“Strange to be thanked for not taking you on a date, but just as strange to say you’re welcome and mean it.”
Chuckling, they squeezed each other’s hand before letting go.
“Rudy…” Her nerves jiggled a bit, anticipating how he might respond. “I’ve been thinking of having a benefit to raise money to buy the café.”
“To acquire a private business? For a girl? I think you’re inviting the bishop to come to your home to correct you.”
Had Quill realized that? It seemed to her that he didn’t like any kind of boundaries and tried to zip past them as if they didn’t exist. She preferred to figure out where the lines were so she could avoid going anywhere near them. “Yeah, Abram had those same thoughts.”
Rudy leaned against the wagon, a mischievous smile beaming down at her. “But that getting-in-trouble thing isn’t an altogether detestable plan since it could benefit me.” He grinned, looking sheepish, and she assumed it was embarrassment over his selfish proclamation.
“How?”
“If you need a place to escape to while the anger dies down, you could go to my parents’ home in Indiana. You know, to get a reprieve from the fallout, and my family could get to know you and you them. See, win-win…for me.”
“You’re assuming they’d like me.”
“Not true. I’m assuming they would love you.”
“You’re very sweet, and I appreciate that about you.” She pointed a finger at him. “Now stop the nonsense and focus. Are you saying you wouldn’t be against it if I decided to do a benefit?”
“For better or worse, I’m on board with whatever you think you need to do to get the café.”
She wrapped her hands around his suspenders and tugged. “I couldn’t have a better boyfriend.”
“Remember that when we argue.”
They hadn’t argued over anything yet, but they would. “Deal.” She released his suspenders and took a step back.
He straightened his shirt. “So, are we having a yard sale or a benefit?”
She owned hardly anything that could be sold. If something in the Brenneman household was serviceable, including secondhand and third-hand clothing, furniture, or cookware, she and her family were using it. How could she possibly pull off a successful yard sale if she didn’t have anything to sell? Usually part of having a benefit was that skilled Amish men and women made items and donated them to be sold. Would anyone donate items to help her close on the café? Would Amish people even come to the benefit—other than the bishop to correct her?
“I don’t know…yet.”