A rooster crowed, rousing me from slumber. For a moment I thought I was back in my childhood home, but I would have recognized our rooster’s unique crowing, the way it dipped at the end.
I’d slept fitfully after reading A Room with a View for an hour. I’d extinguished the lantern, lain in the darkness, and contemplated visiting Florence, where everyone spoke Italian and no one knew about me or my past. Of course, I never could. Not by jet, anyway. Flying was forbidden by the Ordnung. On an ocean liner, then? No. What was I thinking?
I’d finally turned the lantern back on, opened my Bible, and searched for words of comfort in the book of Psalms until my eyes grew dry. After turning out the light, I repeated Psalm 4:8. “I will both lay me down in peace, and sleep: for thou, LORD, only makest me dwell in safety.”
But I had not felt safe because I’d tossed for hours. Proof positive was my sheets and quilt askew and half off the bed in the morning.
A never-ending volley of worries had tangled through my mind as it attempted to come to grips with the fact I was living alone and managing a café. I was in over my head, like walking at the bottom of a pond. My future blurred. I’d pictured Jake’s father lying helpless after his comatose state, imagined the possibility of seeing Jake and being rejected again, and considered Mark’s invitation to the upcoming singing. Somewhere around two o’clock a dog barked. Or was it a coyote yapping or a bad dream? I still didn’t feel completely at ease with the dogs.
I must have eventually fallen asleep because sunlight filtered into the room and the clock by the bed pronounced it was already six thirty. I sat up with the feeling of dismay. Why hadn’t I prepared for today’s soup ahead of time? I should have humbled myself and asked for Beatrice’s input. But last night I couldn’t wait to flee the house, book in hand. She would no doubt mention my reading an Englisch romance to everyone she ran into and continue her mission to couple me with Mark. I had to ask myself why I was resisting his invitations. In a few hours I’d see him again in the café, along with Stephen and Sadie.
If I didn’t know better, I would’ve thought someone was pounding a nail into my forehead. Ach, a headache, probably caused by lack of sleep or a sinus infection. I knew from experience that the best way to rid myself of the pain was to elevate my head. I forced myself to a sitting position. If Mamm were here, she’d offer me essential oils in steamy water to breathe. I sighed as I told myself those days were over. I was on my own. All the more reason to find myself a husband. More than ever, I didn’t want to die an old maid, even if it meant marrying a man I didn’t love.
The image of sunlight glinting off Jake’s blond hair dominated my musings. Somehow, I must find a way to see him.
The ticking clock prodded me to hurry. I splashed water on my face and then chose a chestnut-brown dress. I pinned on my black apron with care. I parted my hair and yanked it back, increasing the throbbing in my forehead. I planted the kapp I wore yesterday atop my head.
I glanced down at my new shoes and grinned at the evidence I was venturing out of my rut. I didn’t need to cross an ocean to do that.
As I exited the cabin, Missy frolicked over and jumped on me, leaving muddy paw prints on my apron and one shoe. “Nee, Missy.” No time to change my clothes now.
As I shambled past the big house, Beatrice poked her head out the back door. “Don’t leave yet.”
Expecting a lecture, I froze.
“Wait up, Eva. I made stock for the café out of the leftover chicken and bones from my supper the day before yesterday. I hope you don’t mind.”
I did mind not being consulted first, but I was also grateful.
“You’re an angel.” I heard a ring in my voice. “I’m making vegetable soup this morning, and your stock will improve it greatly.”
She looked me up and down. “I like that color dress on you, Eva. I wonder why some young women wear unsightly colors. But Bishop Harvey doesn’t seem to care. Never mind. God didn’t make me a man, so I’ll never be a priest, minister, or bishop.”
I had no answer for her and only wanted to be on my way to work. “How will I get the soup stock to the café?”
She laughed, her plump belly jiggling. “Are you strong enough to carry it without spilling?” She beckoned me into the kitchen and tipped her head to a lidded pot. “If need be, you can use one of the low wagons customers use for collecting plants. Or maybe Mark’s already come in. He’s so smitten with you that he might have arrived early.”
My head throbbed again. “I’ll see if I can manage.” I moved to the stove and tried to lift the pot. Its contents sloshed from side to side, warning me. “Well, maybe not. The wagon sounds like a gut idea.”
“Another good idea would be to ask Mark to pull the wagon.”
“No, I’ll try by myself.”
Beatrice shook her head. “Did you ever consider how much easier your life would be if you’d take other people’s advice more often?”
My headache amplifying her voice, snarly words danced on the tip of my tongue. But I swallowed them down. “You may be right. I’d best be concentrating on the soup. Can you tell me where a wagon is?”
“There’s one at the side of the house.”
“Thanks.” I grabbed hold of the pot’s handles and shuffled out the door before she could give me any more advice. I found myself at the bottom of the steps surrounded by Missy and Minnie, both dogs sniffing at the pot.
“Go away.” The dogs paid me no attention. They followed me around to the side of the house, where I located the wagon, and then all the way to the café.
When I reached the door, reality struck like an alarm clock chiming. I’d forgotten the key. It was sitting in the cabin on the counter next to the sink. But I couldn’t leave the soup stock unattended. Missy was large enough to tip the vat over.
“Locked out?” Stephen was headed in my direction.
“Yah.” I couldn’t bring myself to look at his face. “In my rush, I forgot my keys. I’m so sorry.” And embarrassed.
“No problem. Perfection is not required.”
“That’s good news.” I’d seldom felt more imperfect.
Stephen shooed the two dogs away. “I wonder where Heath is.”
“I haven’t seen him this morning, but I thought I heard barking in the night. I could’ve been dreaming.”
He glanced down at the soup stock. “Has Beatrice been helping you out?”
“Yah, and I’m most appreciative.”
“Let me carry that.” But before he lifted the pot, Stephen tried the handle and the door swung open without protest. “Huh? Did you lock up last night?”
“Yah.” I pictured myself inserting the key and then testing the door to make sure it was closed properly. “I’m certain I locked both doors and then took the key with me.”
“No broken windows. We keep a spare key in the retail shop, but I can’t imagine any of our employees using it. And Olivia used to have one. I hope she didn’t make a spare.”
Stephen lifted the pot, carried it through the dining area, and brought it into the kitchen, where he placed it on a counter. Then he canvassed the dining area. “Everything looks okay.”
I pushed a chair back into position. “I recall giving this room a thorough looking over. Including this chair. It was snug against the table.”
The corners of Stephen’s mouth angled down. “Do you think someone was in here?”
I strode to the cash register and detected a subtle residual scent of cigarette smoke. “Yah. I’m glad I took the money out and gave it to Bess.”
“And you’re sure you locked the doors?” Stephen asked.
“Positive. More than anything, I hope you don’t think I’m lying.”
“No, not for a moment.” He touched my elbow. “I thought these shenanigans were behind us. In the past we’ve had minor vandalism we attributed to Olivia’s boyfriend—if they’re even still dating. I hope not. His name’s Butch, and he’s a bad seed, but we have no proof.”
“But they’re in rumspringa, aren’t they?”
“Even so, her deacon and a minister paid a call to her parents and complained about him. That’s one reason her parents told her she couldn’t work here anymore.” He surveyed the café’s interior. “I hope there’s no damage, whoever the culprit was. In the past, we’ve had planted pots tipped over, but no one has ever broken into the café. Not that it was technically broken into because the person must have had a key.”
Back in the kitchen, he lifted the pot and put it on a burner. “I’d better let you take it from here. I’m a terrible cook.”
With his broad shoulders and muscled arms, Stephen seemed capable of doing anything. But I let his comment go. I didn’t want him to think I was a flirt. I figured Beatrice would fill him in on our supper last night and make it seem as though I was leading Mark on.
“Still like your new shoes?” He gave them a looking over.
“Very much. I’m sorry I forgot to thank you for the ride.”
“And I’m sorry your photo ended up in the newspaper.” Stephen stepped back into the dining area. “Between tourists and newspaper photographers, it’s hard for Amish to keep out of camera lenses.”
“I’ve grown up with it and should know better than to stand next to a policeman at the side of the road. But your friend Wayne was very nice. Nevertheless, I hope to never ride in a squad car again.”
“I can empathize. I’ve had a few minor scrapes with the law, but that’s all behind me now.”
“You were in jail?”
“No, but if I hadn’t gone to AA and gotten sober, I could be right now. I got one too many DWIs and was spiraling to the bottom of a pit. Alcohol can sneak up on you that way.” He paused as if replaying his past in his mind. “I got turned around, and I’ve never had another drop since.”
“I’m glad.”
“Thanks. I feel free and will never go back. But just in case, I avoid situations that could tempt me. I never want to get hooked again by convincing myself I have enough strength to battle alcoholism by myself.”
“You seem the least likely of men to be helpless.”
“Without God, I’m as helpless as anyone else. Too many people fool themselves into thinking they’re in control.”
After Stephen left the café, I warmed the soup stock and started making coffee. While it brewed, I got busy washing and then dicing vegetables. It was too early to immerse them in the warm broth, so I tossed them into an iron skillet and sautéed them in olive oil and garlic.
Knuckles rapped on the back door, making my arm jerk. Since when was I so jumpy? I rushed over to open the door. There was Sadie’s forlorn face.
“Gut morning, Sadie.”
“Am I late?” She pulled off her black sweater and hung it on a hook. She seemed as limp as her garment.
I glanced up at the clock. “Nee. You’re right on time.” I had nothing to apologize for, but I felt responsible for her misery. “Sadie, I feel terrible that Beatrice invited me to supper with Mark.”
“No surprise she didn’t include me.” Sadie shrugged one shoulder. “She’s never liked me.”
“I’m not sure she likes me either, but she has something up her sleeve.” I diced carrots as I spoke. “I want us to be honest with each other.” I paused, hoping sage words would come to mind, but there was no way around the truth. “Mark asked me to the singing on Sunday. I’m sure it was Beatrice’s idea. I think you and Mark are more suited to each other.”
“But it’s obvious he prefers you, Evie. I can’t make him pursue me if his heart is with another woman.” She glanced at my new shoes. “Love your Nikes. Where did they come from?”
“Stephen drove me to the outlet mall on Tuesday.”
“I wonder if he has a crush on you too.”
“Nee, he had to run another errand and was kind enough to give me a ride after I told him how much my feet hurt.”
“I wouldn’t sell yourself short, Evie. It seems all the men around here are flocking to get your attention.”
If only she knew.
More rapping on the back door brought our conversation to an end.
Sadie grabbed a terry cloth rag. “I’ll make sure the tables are clean and fill the salt and pepper shakers.”
I opened the door to find Olivia looking pale and as downcast as Sadie. I’d never seen her without a grin on her face.
“Ta-da!” Olivia’s exuberance seemed forced, her mouth forming a tight smile. Tendrils of flaxen hair escaped her kapp, its strings hanging behind her back. “My bruder was running late, so I talked my parents into letting me use their open buggy and bring the baked goods in myself.” She deposited a box on the counter and then embraced me as if she were clinging to a life raft.
“I need to talk to you if you have time,” she whispered when we finally parted. “If I don’t speak to someone, I’ll burst.” Chewing her lower lip, she rubbed her puffy eyes.
Olivia wiped away a tear. “Keep your voice down. Would ya come out and help me carry in my baked goods?”
“Sure.”
She tipped her head toward the door and stepped outside. I trailed her. “I’ll confide in you only if you promise never to tell anyone.”
“Yah, I promise.” I couldn’t imagine where she was headed.
“I may be leaving…with a man…” She buried her solemn face in her hands.
“Are you sure he’s the right man for you?”
Her nod was barely perceptible. “Yah, but I best not tell you his name so you won’t have to lie for me should someone ask.”
I had to agree. I didn’t want to have to fib to cover up her transgressions. Maybe she would change her mind.
She hefted up another container filled with baked goods from the back of her open buggy. “I promised my parents I wasn’t seeing him anymore, so we’ve been meeting in secret in the middle of the night.”
“Do they suspect anything?”
She looked over my shoulder, I assumed to make sure we were alone. “Not yet. But eventually we’ll…”
“Get married?”
“Maybe. He hasn’t asked me yet. But he says he loves me, so I’m sure we will.”
“Sometimes men lie.” Jake told me he’d adore me forever.
She must have noticed my distress “I’m sorry, Evie. I wish things were different with Jake. My guy has been upfront with me from the start. He’s never wanted to join the church. He’s been considering moving away and living in the Englisch world since he was a child. If he takes off, he said he’d take me with him.”
“But not get married first?”
“It’s not as if we don’t know each other.”
I was afraid to ask how well. I thought of Jake and was thankful we’d never gone beyond kissing. Kisses I would never forget. Not that we hadn’t been tempted, but prudence and caution had prevailed.
I would not condemn Olivia’s actions, but I hoped to influence her. Still, if I were in her position, I might have left the only life I’d ever known to be with Jake. If he’d asked me. Which he hadn’t.
“Wait here.” I deposited a box inside and then returned. “Liv, please promise you won’t run off without saying goodbye first.”
“I can’t promise anything.” She looked away. “I thought you of all people would understand.”
“I do understand.” All too well.