Sixteen

Sylvie’s thoughts were in a jumbled mess. Disgusted with Jimmy, she had left him practically whimpering at his mother’s house. The next day, she cleaned up the breakfast dishes and took Joey straight over the hill to Windmill Farm, all in an attempt to avoid Jimmy. It wasn’t difficult, as he was skirting around the edges of Rising Star Farm, doing his best to avoid her.

The wind, raw and cold, twisted Sylvie’s skirts around her legs, and she nearly stumbled twice on icy patches. She stopped first at the Fix-It Shop, to ask Luke if Joey could watch him work for a little while.

“Sure, of course,” Luke said. “Izzy and Jenny are up at the house, making something on the stove. Take all the time you need.” He gestured to his workbench, where a row of flashlights was laid out. “Joey can help me fix these broken flashlights for my brother, Sam. He’s been after me to fix these for a week.”

Joey picked one up and peered inside. “I think it just needs batteries.”

“Ah, Joey, I wish it were that easy,” Luke said in a patient schoolteacher’s voice. “But some problems aren’t so simple to fix.”

No kidding. Sylvie patted Joey’s shoulder, told him to be good, and crossed the yard to the kitchen.

Izzy met her at the door and took one look at her. “What’s wrong?”

“I need advice.”

The house was as peaceful and sweet smelling as always. Jenny stood by the stove, stirring something in a big pot. “Come in, Sylvie. We’re making caramel today, hot and dangerous work, so Jesse’s watching the children at the house.”

Izzy pulled out a chair for Sylvie. “Fern was worried Jesse wouldn’t survive, or maybe their children wouldn’t survive, so she took Katy Ann over to check on them.” She patted the chair beside her. “Sit. Tell us everything.”

Sylvie removed her sweater and sat down as Izzy poured her a cup of coffee. Once she started talking, it was like a dam broke open. She chattered on, a thousand words a minute, recounting every detail of Jimmy’s strange behavior. Izzy propped her elbows on the table and peered at her over one folded hand.

“One minute he was begging me to marry him, not ten minutes later he was sweating and choking and gasping for air. It was like someone had socked him in the stomach or something. Could someone get sick that fast?”

“He wasn’t sick,” Jenny said from the stovetop. “He was panicking.”

“Panicking? Because of me? Because of us?” Sylvie doctored her coffee with milk and sugar, stirring mindlessly. “But he was the one who proposed. It’s just that . . . we seemed so well suited for one another. And he and Joey, they’ve grown so close. I’ve never seen Joey so happy as he’s been these last few months. And Jimmy’s done so much for me at Rising Star Farm. More than I could’ve ever expected.” More than that. He’d become a pillar of strength for her. “He seemed so positive that we should marry, made such a case for it. Pressed me to accept. As soon as I did, he fell apart. Do you think he changed his mind?”

When no one answered, she looked up and saw a look exchanged between Izzy and Jenny that was pregnant with unspoken meaning.

“What?”

Izzy dipped her chin. Sylvie darted her attention to Jenny, who was suddenly very focused on stirring the sugar on the stovetop.

Sylvie straightened, staring Izzy down. “What?”

“You have to tell her,” Jenny said.

Sylvie’s heart dropped a few feet, bouncing around as it did. “Tell me what? Something awful, right?” She thought she was a good judge of character, but maybe her attraction to Jimmy had blinded her.

Another round of exchanged glances, leaving Sylvie out in the cold.

“Jenny!” Sylvie placed both palms on the table. “Izzy! What aren’t you telling me?”

Jenny folded her arms against her chest, reminding Sylvie of Fern in that mannerism. “Jimmy’s a cliffhanger.”

“What does that mean?”

“He gets close to a cliff, right to the edge, then backs away.”

“Runs away,” Izzy added with a solemn nod.

“What?” Sylvie looked at them. “You mean . . . the cliff . . . of marriage?”

Jenny nodded knowingly. “It happened with Luke’s sister, Bethany. And now with you. He’s attracted, convinced he’s found his girl. But as soon as things get serious, after he really thinks about what it means, that there will be expectations placed on him, responsibilities . . . he turns tail and runs.”

It started to sink in. Sylvie leaned back in her chair. “I see.” So, she wasn’t special to Jimmy, like she thought. Hoped. “So, then, it’s over.”

“No!” Izzy shook her head so fast that her capstrings bounced on her shoulders. “It doesn’t have to be over. All men get cold feet. Luke did.”

“Jesse did too,” Jenny said.

“And if I’m not mistaken, Jimmy never had proposed to Bethany. They’d talked about it, but he never did actually propose. So you’re the first girl he’s ever proposed to.”

“Why, I think you’re right, Izzy. Sylvie, you’re the first.”

Izzy smiled. “First and last. Assuming we do this right.”

“Do what?”

Izzy covered Sylvie’s hand. “Jimmy takes special handling. It’s very important how you handle it, though.”

“Assuming you still want him,” Jenny said. “He’s more flawed than most men. Maybe you don’t want him.”

Out of Sylvie burst, “Oh, I do.” And she did. The words flew out of her mouth before she even thought about them. She hadn’t known how much she wanted him until right now. She was in love with Jimmy Fisher, flaws and all.

“I thought so.” Jenny grinned and clapped her hands together. “You just can’t let him know that, though. As far as he’s concerned, it doesn’t matter to you either way.”

“But . . . ,” Sylvie said, and she felt her eyes start stinging, which triggered her annoying twitch. “But it does matter.”

“We know that, and you know that,” Izzy said, giving her a reassuring nod. “But Jimmy doesn’t have to know that.”

Jenny held up a wooden spoon, frowning. “Knowing and understanding is half the battle.”

But this isn’t supposed to be a war, Sylvie thought, turning the edges of her apron. It did feel a little like one, though. “Maybe it’s just too much. Joey. Edith. Hank. Maybe it’s too hard.”

“Without the Lord’s help, any marriage is too hard.”

All three women jumped at the sound of Fern’s voice. In her arms was Katy Ann, who reached out for Izzy. How long had she been standing there?

Izzy rose to get her child. “We’re giving Sylvie advice about how to manage Jimmy’s cold feet. She’s worried it’s over between them.”

Jenny nodded woefully. “Before it even began.”

Fern handed off Katy Ann to Izzy and went to the stove top to peer into the pot of caramel. She took the wooden spoon out of Jenny’s hand, shaking her head, and stirred the mixture herself, watching the liquid stream off the spoon.

“Care to chime in with suggestions?” Jenny prompted.

“About caramel? Or about Jimmy Fisher?”

“Both,” Jenny said.

“Sugar needs to boil.” She turned the stove flame up a notch and went back to stirring.

“And Jimmy?”

“I don’t think the situation requires suggestions. I think that if God intends for Jimmy and Sylvie to end up together, we don’t need to plot and plan and connive.”

Izzy and Jenny cast sideways glances at each other.

“And the Good Lord works in mysterious ways.”

“But what does that mean?” Sylvie asked. “In this situation, Fern, what does that really mean?”

“To let go and trust God.” Fern stirred and stirred, and lifted the spoon again. What dripped down back into the pot now was light brown, sticky, gooey caramel. “Remember,” she said at last with a reassuring smile aimed at Sylvie, “that even the wind and the waves obey him.”

Face pinched, Jenny scratched at her neck. “I suppose . . . we might have forgotten to add all that in.”

Katy Ann wiggled to get down and Izzy scrambled after her to keep her away from the stove. Jenny and Fern were focused on pouring the caramel onto the buttered tin foil. Later, after it cooled, they’d cut it into bite-size pieces and wrap them in waxed paper.

Sylvie remained at the kitchen table, thinking over the conversation. She appreciated Izzy and Jenny’s concern, but their advice made her unsettled. Fern said nothing more, but her words hit the mark.

Let go and trust God. Nothing could be harder for Sylvie. She wanted to fix everything herself. But she’d tried to do that before, many times, and she’d only made things worse. In the back of her mind, she had a nagging feeling that her fix-it intentions might have interfered with her sister’s life. She might have been overly helpful and made it easy for her to abandon her responsibilities. She might have interfered with Jake’s life too. He’d been content with his bachelor life and hadn’t felt a need to change things, not until she came along and made him fall in love with her. What about now? Yes, Jimmy had started this whole marriage idea, but he clearly wasn’t ready for marriage. There was much at stake here. Yet was she interfering again?

She was a terrible person, just like her father had always said.

Prince needed a large pasture to graze in, bigger than that small paddock near the new old barn where he spent his days. Jimmy had noticed broken rails on the far side of the pasture, close to the road, jerry-rigged together with a rope. If the horse wanted out, all he’d need to do is scratch his back on the broken rails. Despite the cold, Jimmy had spent the day fixing the railings, a task that was long overdue and kept him away from the house and barn . . . and from bumping into Sylvie.

“YOU LOOK SADDER THAN A MULE WITH A BIT THAT PINCHES.”

Hank’s loud voice startled Jimmy. He straightened and turned. “Pardon?”

“I’ve been WONDERING how you’re doing. YOU LOOK LIKE MY DOG WHEN SHE’S OFF HER FEED.”

“Hank, do you think you could try to talk without shouting?”

Hank seemed shocked by that remark, as if he’d never heard it before. He tried to whisper, which came out like a normal person’s speaking voice. “Feeling overwhelmed? Heart pounding? A little”—he poked out his tongue and feigned choking, sort of like a cat coughing up a hairball—“short on breath?”

Jimmy tilted into half a shrug. “I guess.”

“I SEE THIS ALL THE TIME. Wedding jitters.”

“This . . .” Doubts. Despair. Heart palpitations. Sheer panic. “This is normal?”

“WOULDN’T BE NORMAL FOR A FELLA TO NOT EXPERIENCE COLD FEET.”

Cold, sure, but Jimmy had frostbite.

Hank sat down on a few stacked railings and leaned up against a post to scratch his back. “What is it that’s EATING at you, SON?”

Jimmy leaned against the fence post. He really wasn’t sure that Hank was the person to talk to about his doubts, but David was still out of town, and Luke was fed up with him. As Hank continued to watch him from his good eye, Jimmy realized Hank’s wisdom was all he had to rely on, which was a little sad. “What if God has one woman out there for me, and I just haven’t found her yet? What if I end up making a mistake?”

Hank peered up at the sky. “With that kind of THINKING, if one fella made a MISTAKE, then so would the NEXT ONE, and the next. Every man on earth would BE MARRIED TO THE WRONG WOMAN.”

“Like a game of dominos.”

“EXACTLY.” He folded his arms. “And that CAN’T BE TRUE because your mother and I have found TRUE WEDDED BLISS.”

Wow. True bliss?

“Son, marriage is the BEST THING that could ever happen to a man. LIFE ONLY GIVES YOU SO MANY CHANCES. I wouldn’t want you to reach the grave FULL OF NEAR MISSES.”

Jimmy straightened, struck by the words. Always before, if a woman was mad at him, he moved on. This was different, Sylvie Schrock King was different. He had been given a chance to love again with Sylvie. Was he going to blow this, like he’d done so many times before? No. No, he wasn’t.

Hank, for all his irritating ways, could turn profound. “Thanks, Hank.”

“THAT’S WHAT FATHERS ARE FOR.” He gave Jimmy a solemn, tender look, which was not a good look on Hank, because one eye or the other was always floating off. “SON, I THINK IT’S HIGH TIME YOU CALLED ME DAD.”

Jimmy dropped his chin to his chest. Lord-a-mercy.

The talk with Hank had bolstered Jimmy’s courage and he knew he needed to face Sylvie. He’d made a complete fool of himself the other day. He dreaded looking into Sylvie’s eyes now with no idea what to expect. Would she still be peeved at him?

He finished replacing the last broken fence rail. As he picked up his tools, he saw her walk Prince into the barn. Joey was swinging on the tire swing he’d made for him. If Jimmy wanted to clear the air with her, now was the time. He stalked along, studying the ground.

Inside the barn, he found Sylvie in the center aisle. She had Prince on crossties and was combing out his long mane. “I fixed the pasture near the road.”

She popped her head over Prince’s neck. “Thank you. Now I can finally get this horse into a pasture that’s big enough for him.” She disappeared again, currying burrs out of the horse’s tail. He came around the back side of the horse and laid a hand on her arm, stilling her. “Sylvie . . . I don’t blame you for being angry with me.”

“I’m not angry.”

He tucked his chin, and raised his eyebrows, giving her a doubtful look. But she didn’t sound mad at him. She really didn’t. She moved away from him to comb out the horse’s mane and he came closer.

“About the other day,” he said softly.

She turned around to face him, and he felt any lingering trace of doubt wash away as he gazed into her violet eyes. All he wanted, all he would ever need, stood right there in front of him. He was certain of it. This was the girl for him. “I’m sorry about the other day. It was a momentary lapse.”

“There’s no need to even talk about it,” she said, squeezing his arm before she turned away to unclip the crossties. “But I have been giving it some thought. It seems wise to slow things down.”

He snapped his head up. “But you said you wanted to marry sooner rather than later.”

She led the horse into his stall, taking her time answering him. “Really, we have all the time in the world.”

We do? Jimmy tried not to reveal his confusion. “All the time in the world?” When had he and Sylvie ever not rushed? They met at the Bent N’ Dent, she offered him a job on the spot, he took it, he created a new business plan for Prince, got his first customer. Sealed, that very evening, with a kiss between him and Sylvie. They hadn’t slowed down yet.

“There’s no need to rush. We can give this a lot of thought.”

A strange feeling of alarm rose. “Sylvie, is something wrong?”

Sylvie was quick to answer. “Oh, not at all.” She hung the harness on the hook and turned toward him. “With Prince bringing in cash money, the farm is safe. That’s the important thing. Don’t you agree?”

Jimmy’s mouth went dry, and he narrowed his eyes and leaned forward. He took her hand in his. “Sylvie, do you . . . still . . . want to marry me?”

She fell silent for a moment, her eyes fixed on their joined hands. The silent moment stretched. And stretched. It went on so long that Jimmy’s stomach swirled and dipped. Lord-a-mercy, she’s changed her mind. A new kind of panic swept in. He couldn’t lose her!

Just then, into the barn ran Joey, wailing for Sylvie because he’d fallen off the tree swing and scuffed his knees and elbows. Sylvie carried him to the house to bandage him up, leaving Jimmy alone with the horses. The three-legged dog hopped down the barn aisle and sat in front of him, tongue hanging out. Looking down at that silly dog, another thing occurred to him. Sylvie hadn’t winked at him. Not once.

An hour or so later, Sylvie heard a knock at the door and hurried to open it, wondering if Jimmy might drop by before he left for home. They hadn’t finished their conversation in the barn, and there was more to say. Both of them had more to say.

Her mouth dropped to an open O when she saw Hank Lapp standing there. When Jake was alive, the two were often together, rummaging around in the barns, dragging junk in and out. She always knew when Hank was around, because he made an infernal noise wherever he went. But since Jake had passed, Hank didn’t come to the house much, and the few times he did, he certainly never bothered to knock.

“SO YOU DID IT! Figured out a way to outfox the fox.”

She sighed. Hank Lapp could talk a jaybird off a tree limb. Edith Lapp resembled a sturdy little bulldog, complete with jowls. Sylvie never understood how those two ended up together.

“TWO BIRDS. ONE STONE.”

She crossed her arms, gripping her elbows. “What are you talking about, Hank Lapp?”

“MARRYING JIMMY! IN ONE FELL SWOOP. TWO BIRDS. ONE STONE.”

She began fanning herself, whether from the heat of the kitchen or the shock of Hank at her door, she didn’t know. “I’m not following.”

“You turned the TABLES on Edith. She’s been lighting into Jimmy like a BEAR CUB AFTER A BEE’S NEST. But so far he’s REFUSED TO BACK DOWN. Said he’s going to MARRY you no matter what she says.” He scratched his forehead. “WHY SHOULD HE? After all, he got what he was after. TWO BIRDS, ONE STONE.” He laughed like it was all a big joke.

She hesitated, knowing that Hank had a tendency to talk overmuch. To talk too much, too loud, and take what bits and pieces he knew, make up the rest, and tell everybody in town before nightfall. “What’s that?”

“IT’S ALL SPELLED OUT IN EDITH’S GROSSDAADI’S WILL. Tiny little print. No one can OWN that property OUTRIGHT until he up and MARRIES. Same story with Jake. Once Edith found THAT LINE in the will, told him it was HIGH TIME he’d have to move out since he couldn’t find a BRIDE, well, he up and married the FIRST GIRL who said YES to him. Tried to, anyway. He’d asked every OLD MAID in Stoney Ridge, and they all REFUSED him. I know that for a SOLID-GOLD FACT.” He pointed to two old rickety wooden chairs on the porch. “We sat RIGHT there and drank iced tea and made a list of EVERY SPINSTER we could think of.” He turned back to Sylvie. “Then, along came YOU and that little tyke of yours.” He snapped his fingers. “BINGO! Jake nailed down the property. Oooeee! Edith was MADDER THAN A WET HEN, I don’t mind telling you that.”

Too stunned to speak, Sylvie’s mind started spinning. Jake hadn’t fallen in love with her. He didn’t love her. She’d felt such guilt over trapping him in a marriage in which she didn’t love him, yet she was the one who had stepped into the trap.

“And now Jimmy’s PLANNING to do the same thing.” He touched his hat with a smile. “THAT BOY DON’T EVEN OWN HIS OWN HAT. Had to BORROW one of mine before the deacon got after him.”

Sylvie stared at him, nearly forgetting she’d been in the midst of baking biscuits in the oven. It seemed an icy hand gripped her heart. She wasn’t special to Jimmy. Not to Jake, not to Jimmy. She was just a means to secure Rising Star Farm. To both men.

“Come to think of it, maybe EDITH got a BIRD with that STONE too. She always said this property is meant to be ALL TOGETHER. Kept in the FAMILY. Not parceled out to outsiders.”

“I may be an outsider to Edith,” Sylvie said, fighting tears, “but I know that Jake intended this land to go to Joey. I’m not about to just hand it over—”

Oblivious to her upset, Hank blathered on. “THREE BIRDS. ONE STONE. MAYBE EDITH OUTFOXED EVERYONE, AFTER ALL. Wouldn’t put it past her.” He tapped his forehead. “She’s clever that way.”

Sylvie was so angry her knees shook.

“OUTFOXED THE FOX,” Hank repeated. “BUT WHO IS THE FOX?” He chuckled to himself as he went on his way, walking down the porch steps to cross the yard, though Sylvie could hear his loud voice booming like he stood right next to her. “WHO’S THE FOX?”