Dumbfounded, Nelson watched Ella stomp out of Pancho’s, his tongue still tingling from the fiery salsa he’d choked on earlier. That was the hottest stuff he’d ever tasted, and he was grateful for the milk, so there was one point in her favor. But she was the pushiest, nosiest, and oddest woman he’d ever met, and that included Charity, who had at one time taken that prize. But his sister-in-law had changed for the better, and so had his brother Jesse, who had always been annoying in his own way.
But Ella? She was on a whole other level.
He grabbed his to-go box and stood. The restaurant was getting crowded again with the second wave of lunch seekers taking advantage of discounted tacos. When he dodged a little girl darting by him, he almost tripped over a wheeled walker. “Sorry,” he said to the elderly lady and her female dining companion. Then he paused. He recognized the older woman. Shirley, that was her name. Charity used to work for her.
“That’s all right, Nelson.” Shirley smiled and shifted her walker a little closer to her table. “Did you enjoy your lunch?”
“The tacos are always good here.” His company today? Not so much. Then he checked himself. That wasn’t a fair assessment. Other than her unwarranted inquisitiveness, burning his mouth on her crazy-hot salsa, and the weird way she left after he mentioned Malachi and Junia’s date, eating tacos with Ella wasn’t all that bad. And there was that strange moment when he couldn’t stop looking into her eyes. The two times he’d been with her before, he couldn’t decide if they were dark blue or smoky gray. In the brighter light of Pancho’s, he realized they were definitely gray, round, and with thick eyelashes that enhanced the smoky color. When she wasn’t speaking, Ella Yoder was pretty.
If he weren’t in a public place, he would have face-palmed himself. Here he was again, noticing a pretty woman. His only saving grace was her off-putting personality. But he couldn’t even say that about her when she made sure he had tacos for lunch and milk for his burned tongue.
Shirley pointed at the soft tacos on her plate. “They sure are. Everything here is.” She gestured to the dark-haired woman across the table. “Have you met my daughter, Wendy?”
“I don’t think so.” He held out his hand. “Nelson Bontrager. Nice to meet you.”
Wendy shook it with a firm grip. “Are you related to Jesse?”
“They’re brothers.” Shirley scooped up a spoonful of Mexican rice.
“Ah.” She smiled. “Nice to meet you too.”
“I didn’t realize you knew Ella Yoder,” Shirley said.
He caught the slight quizzical lift of her thin eyebrow. Oh brother. Apparently everyone in Marigold was a nosy Nellie. “I don’t. Not really anyway.” He debated for a second whether to tell the women about his butcher shop but changed his mind. They’d find out soon enough. “I’d better get going. Have a good day,” he said, moving away from the table.
“You too,” Shirley said.
Nelson shot out of the restaurant and blew out a breath when he reached the curb. Truth be told, while he was annoyed with Ella’s audacity, he was grateful he’d been able to eat lunch at all. If he’d had to wait too long to be seated at Pancho’s, he would have had to make his ride wait on him, and he wouldn’t have done that. As it was, his ride would be here soon. He glanced around and right away a white van pulled in front of him. It wasn’t his taxi, but he recognized the driver. He waved to Max, who pushed a button on his door. The window rolled down.
“Hey, Nelson,” Max said. “How are things?”
“Good.” At least so far, if he didn’t think too much about Ella’s outburst and the paperwork he’d just signed at the bank. Fortunately, he’d been able to buy the property outright with most of his savings and only had to take out a small loan for renovating the warehouse. He planned to pay off the loan as soon as possible. He didn’t like being in anyone’s debt, or in this case, being indebted to an institution. “Everything all right with you?”
“Right as rain and too blessed to complain.” The gray-haired man grinned. “Just here to pick up a young lady.” He glanced around. “Don’t see her, though. She said she was having lunch at Pancho’s. Ella Yoder is her name. You wouldn’t happen to know her, would you?”
It seemed he couldn’t escape her. “I know who she is.”
Max checked his watch. “Hope she shows up soon. I’ve got a family I need to pick up in less than an hour.”
Nelson looked around the busy street. Ella was nowhere in sight. Not very considerate of her, but she was hopping mad when she left Pancho’s and that was partially his fault. How was he supposed to know she didn’t know about Malachi and Junia’s date? Or that she would be so upset by it?
A horn honked behind Max’s van, and Nelson saw a red sedan pointing to the space Max was halfway parked in. “Guess I’d better make another spin around the block. Would you mind checking to see if she’s still inside?”
“She’s not,” he said. “I saw her leave.”
The driver slammed on the horn again. Max put his van in Drive. “Guess I’ll see you later.”
“Wait.” Nelson gestured for the driver behind Max to hold on a minute. He moved closer to the van. “I’ll see if I can find her. She can catch a ride home with me. Jackson won’t mind.”
“You sure?”
“Positive.”
“Thanks, that helps out a lot.” Max waved to him and closed the window, then pulled out of the parking space. The red sedan whipped inside.
Nelson walked away, dug into his pants pocket, and pulled out a flip phone, one he used for business, emergencies, and when he needed to contact a driver. Texting on the phone was cumbersome, but their bishop, Freemont Yoder, had forbade their community from using smartphones. “Nothing gut comes from those things,” he’d said one Sunday morning a little more than a year ago. “If you’ve got them, get rid of them. If you don’t, stay away from them.”
Unwieldly texting aside, Nelson agreed with the rule. With a smartphone, it was too tempting to jump on the internet, and once you crossed that line, temptations abounded.
Something came up. Do you mind picking me up later, in half an hour? And can you take someone else home? I’ll pay extra.
After a minute Jackson responded.
Sure, no problem. Where do you want me to pick you up?
The park. It’s less crowded there.
See you there.
He put his phone back in his pocket. He and his family had known Jackson Talbot for a long time, and the guy was best friends with Levi Stoll, the owner of Stoll’s Inn. Now that his ride was sorted out, Nelson started on his search for Ella.
Twenty minutes later, he was still searching. The downtown area of Barton was small, but there were several shops, including a fabric store, an antique store run by Ivy and Noah Schlabach, who lived in Birch Creek, a craft store, a hardware store, and two other small restaurants. She wasn’t in any of those, and now he was concerned. He had no idea why. She was an adult and clearly capable of taking care of herself. He probably shouldn’t have butted into her business and let Max wait for her. He’d wanted to help Max out, but now he’d caused trouble for himself.
He made his way toward the park at the end of Main Street and farther away from the bustle of traffic and shops. He wasn’t about to put out Jackson any more than he already had. Besides, Ella had probably called another ride by now and was back home in Marigold. Why didn’t I leave well enough alone?
But as he approached the park, which was little more than a set of swings, a slide, and a few wooden benches, he saw a lone figure sitting on one of the bench seats, her white plastic shopping bags next to her. Ella. He hurried his steps, and when he reached her, he asked, “What are you doing here?”
Startled, she looked up at him, her face twisted in a scowl. “Sitting, obviously.”
“You were supposed to get a ride from Max.”
Her eyes widened. “How did you know that?”
He explained his conversation with the driver. “Jackson’s taking you home.”
“Who?”
“Mei friend. He’s picking us up. He’ll drop you off before he takes me to mei haus.”
“And he’s okay with that?”
Nelson nodded. “He should be here any minute.”
She looked down at her feet, the toes of her black shoes barely touching the ground. “I’ll find mei own ride.”
He frowned. “You’re not ready to geh home?”
She shrugged.
Against his better judgment and a violation of his vow to stay away from women, he sat down next to her. “Why?”
“Why do you care?”
“I don’t.”
She blinked, hurt flashing over her features. “Then why are you here?”
He couldn’t answer, not right away since he didn’t understand exactly why himself. Or why he was sitting next to her, a little bothered that she was bothered. “One, I’m curious. I didn’t take you for the kind of person who would keep a taxi waiting.”
“Normally I’m not,” she mumbled, averting her eyes.
A cardinal landed on a nearby bench. He tilted his tiny red-and-black head at the two of them, as if he were just as confused about the situation as Nelson was. “Two,” he said, continuing his explanation, “you were angry when you left Pancho’s. And three—”
“I wasn’t angry. I was . . . perturbed.”
“There’s a difference?”
“Ya.” She turned to him. “I wasn’t mad. Not even close.”
He moved back a bit. If what he witnessed at Pancho’s wasn’t anger, he didn’t want to be around her when she was angry. “Okay,” he said, measuring his words. “You were perturbed. And three—”
“Don’t I have a right to be upset?” Ella jumped up from the bench, scaring the cardinal away and knocking off one of her bags. But she didn’t seem to notice as she started to pace in front of him. “I’m sick and tired of Junia doing whatever she wants to do, and nix that I need her to do.”
Nelson glanced over his shoulder, hoping to see Jackson’s truck. He wasn’t there. Nuts.
“And you know the worst part? Daed lets her get away with it.” Her small hands fisted at her sides, puffs of frosty air accompanying her words. “I have to run the store, clean the house, cook, do the laundry, mend our clothes—”
And Junia was the woman Malachi thought he was in love with? Yeesh. “She doesn’t do anything?”
“Well, she does hang the clothes on the line. And most of the time she makes breakfast.” She halted and turned on her heel. “She does do some things. But I have to tell her to do them. She’s twenty years old. She shouldn’t have to be told what to do.”
Nelson rubbed the back of his neck. The last thing he wanted was to be privy to their sister feud. The very last thing he wanted—or needed—was to point out that maybe Junia would have more gumption if Ella weren’t bossing her around so much. He bit his tongue, literally.
“What am I doing?” She waved her hand in his direction. “Why am I telling you all this?”
He looked up at her. He didn’t know her or her family, and she shouldn’t be snapping at him because she was mad at her sister. But when he saw her wipe her eyes with the heels of her hands, he paused. Once again, he ignored his common sense and motioned for her to sit next to him. At first she shook her head, but when he pointed at the seat, she plopped down.
Nelson picked up the bag off the ground and set it next to the other ones between them. They both sat in silence, staring at the swings in front of them.
* * *
Ella couldn’t look at Nelson. Embarrassment flooded her, from the top of her kapp to the toes of her shoes. What on earth had possessed her to spill all that private information to him? He’d already made it clear that he didn’t care, and she shouldn’t be surprised. She also shouldn’t care that he, a practical stranger who definitely didn’t like her, didn’t care. But for some reason . . . she did.
It didn’t make any sense. Neither did her tirade, or him sitting next to her on this bench or arranging a ride for her. In her anger she’d expressed to him what she hadn’t been able to say to her daed or Junia. Her father wouldn’t listen, and her sister . . . didn’t care. That seemed to be a trend with the people in her life lately.
After a few more moments of silence, Nelson asked, “Feel better now?”
“Nee,” she said, knowing he was expecting an answer and unwilling to lie to him. “I don’t feel better.”
“I reckon that’s okay. Seems like you got a lot on your plate.”
He was sliding his boot over the crushed gravel underneath the bench, still staring straight ahead. He might not care, but he did seem to understand. A little. “Danki,” she murmured.
“For what?”
She sighed. “Listening. Arranging my ride home. Buying me lunch.”
He nodded. “You did make sure I got mei tacos today. Guess that makes us even.”
“Guess so.”
The sound of a vehicle coming closer made them turn around. A white pickup truck with an extended cab pulled behind them. Nelson stood, then picked up Ella’s bags and handed them to her. “That’s Jackson.”
The mortified part of her wanted to decline the ride. She had a phone, and she could call someone to pick her up. But there was something . . . soothing about his presence. She had no idea if that was the right description, but she was experiencing a nice feeling that he had taken matters into his own hands and made sure she had a ride. She was used to fending for herself.
Ella stood and followed him to the truck. He opened the back door for her, and she climbed in. He got into the front and sat next to the English driver.
“Hey, Jackson,” Nelson said as he shut the door. “Thanks for doing this.”
“No problem.” Jackson turned around, giving Ella a quick wave.
She replied with a faint smile. He seemed to be in his late twenties, with short brown hair and a chestnut-colored beard that was almost as long as some of the married Amish men. The only difference was the mustache.
He put the truck in Drive and pulled onto the street. Gray clouds had formed over the past hour or so since she’d eaten lunch, and the overcast sky matched her dull mood. Nelson and Jackson talked while she sank deeper into her coat and closed her eyes, suddenly dog-tired. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had such an outburst, and arguing with Junia didn’t count. She also couldn’t remember the last time any of her comments, constructive critiques, or complaints had been heard. Her father always left or changed the subject when Ella became upset. Junia either egged her on or laughed at her.
Her aunts’ voices echoed in her mind again.
“You’re too temperamental,” Aenti Cora would say.
“The Lord’s servant must not be quarrelsome,” Aenti Tabitha pointed out on more than one occasion, quoting from part of 2 Timothy.
Ella didn’t think she was quarrelsome, not often anyway. Why was it okay that her sister always got a pass from everyone and Ella received the lectures? It’s not fair.
Tears squeezed from her eyes. Quickly she passed the back of her hand over her face, thankful Nelson and Jackson were still talking. When she heard Nelson mention the butcher shop, her ears perked.
“You actually did it?” Jackson said, flipping on his turn signal.
“Yep. Signed the papers today.”
Jackson grinned. “Congratulations. Can’t wait to visit the shop when it opens. Do you have a date?”
“There’s still a lot of details to work out.”
Ella frowned. She was sure Nelson had to deal with more than just details, considering he’d admitted he didn’t even have a plan. She also took note of the doubt in his tone, which hadn’t been there when he was talking to her at lunch. I could help him if he would just let me. She bit the inside of her lip. He had plenty of help, and he didn’t want hers. He couldn’t have been any clearer about that.
The men had changed subjects and were discussing Jackson’s web design job when something suddenly occurred to Ella. “What was number three?” she blurted in Deitsch.
Nelson and Jackson stopped talking, and Nelson looked over his shoulder. “What?”
“Earlier you said number three.” She started ticking off on her fingers. “Number one was you were curious why I was, um, perturbed.” She didn’t need to state number two, that he was right in pointing out she was angry. “What was three?”
He frowned, his thick eyebrows forming what was becoming a familiar confused V above his eyes. Those eyes. She hadn’t paid attention to them when she was pitching her fit, but she sure was now. Sigh.
Shifting in his seat, he averted his gaze. “I, uh, wanted to make sure you were okay.” He quickly faced the front and started talking to Jackson again.
She stilled, trying to absorb his contradictory words. If he didn’t care about her or her plight, why did he need to make sure she was all right? It didn’t make sense. Neither did the warmth flowing through her. Maybe he wasn’t as insensitive as she thought.
“Is this it?” Jackson said, pointing to her house across the street from the store and Nelson’s future butcher shop.
“Yes.” Ella gathered up her bags as he pulled into her driveway. She reached her purse, but Nelson held up his hand.
“The ride’s on me.”
“But you paid—” She stopped herself. He’d paid for lunch and now her taxi. She recalled what he’d said when they were on the swings—that they were even now. He might have thought that, but he’d just tipped the scales again. She’d have to do something for him to get them back on even ground. “Okay then, bye,” she said, getting out of the truck.
“See ya around.” Jackson waved at her again, but Nelson didn’t give her another glance.
Humph. What a strange man. He was nice one minute, boorish the next. One thing was for sure, he was unlike anyone she’d ever met before.
She headed inside the house as they drove away, her temper at a low simmer again. After she dropped off the yarn, fabric, and other items at the house, she would head to the store. Hopefully Junia would still be there, but she wouldn’t be surprised if she wasn’t. The parking lot was empty, and if business was slow, her sister grew bored. That was when she usually took off, supposedly on breaks that would end up lasting more than an hour. Sometimes several. And Daed never admonished her for it.
Resentment bubbled up within her as she went upstairs to put the fabric in her room. She placed it on her dresser and saw Nelson’s coat on her hope chest. If Ella got her way, Junia wouldn’t be seeing Malachi on Saturday. She really needed her help around the house that day. Ella would have to figure out another way to return Nelson’s coat to him, and she would do that after she got through the weekend. Right now she needed to focus on how she was going to convince Junia to cancel her date and get her father to back her up. A tall order, indeed.