CHAPTER 6
Adam Wengerd was a real nice guy. Titus had always thought so. He was one of the best softball players in school, he had nice teeth, and word was that he was a gute shot with his rifle.
Would Adam mind very much if Titus courted his fiancée?
Of course, Titus didn’t want to hurt Adam’s feelings or anything like that, but something niggling at the back of Titus’s brain told him that Adam and Katie wouldn’t suit each other. It didn’t seem right that Katie should marry someone who didn’t like fudge with nuts.
Titus adored fudge with nuts. It was probably his favorite food ever.
He rubbed the stubble along his jaw. He should feel guilty for wanting to court Adam’s girlfriend. If Adam and Katie were meant for each other, Gotte would not like it if Titus got in the way. But Titus couldn’t stop thinking about Katie or stop writing poems about her. Poems just came to him when he milked the goats. They reminded him of Katie.
Not that she looked like a goat. Katie was prettier than any grand-prize goat at any county fair. Katie wasn’t mischievous like Beth or always hungry like Judy. She baked delicious cakes and cookies and breads. The goats could only make milk. Katie’s eyes were brown, and neither of his goats had such chocolaty-brown eyes. And she was so kind, she could have been an angel. Titus liked her kindness most of all.
Come to think of it, he wasn’t sure why his goats reminded him of Katie. She was nothing like them. But he liked her all the same.
He liked her more than a million goats and a million blocks of fudge with nuts.
A lot more.
Would that make Adam mad?
Of course, a girl like Katie probably wasn’t interested in Titus. Cousin Norman often reminded Titus how thick he was, and Katie was so smart, she could add fractions in her head. He’d seen her do it just the other day when she needed to double a recipe. A girl like Katie deserved a bishop’s son and a thousand goats.
Norman was right. How could Titus be so dim-witted as to think that Katie would even give him a second glance?
Titus tromped toward the barn through the waist-deep snow with his shovel in one hand. Last night had made down hard with over three feet of snow. Titus had risen extra early this morning to come up to Huckleberry Hill and shovel the sidewalk so Dawdi wouldn’t have to. Of course, the lane was still buried in snow, but the sidewalk was clear if Katie needed to use it.
He had left the horse and buggy at home and hiked up the hill in his snowshoes. The snow was too deep for the horse, but Titus managed well enough with his snowshoes. He’d retrieved the shovel from Dawdi’s toolshed and shoveled the walk in almost complete darkness and heavy snowfall. Gute thing he had his Viking beanie. The strap to his headlamp rested right on top of his beanie and the Viking horns held it in place. Mammi probably didn’t even realize how smart she was.
Titus paused to shovel the snow away from the barn door so he could open it. Then he pulled it open and stepped inside. With the light of his headlamp, he located the matches and lit the propane lantern. Judy and Beth both greeted him with a baa, and Iris, the cow, swished her tail.
Dawdi would be in to milk Iris soon. Titus would have gladly done it for him, but Dawdi said milking the cow every morning kept him young and that Titus had the Christmas goats to look after and they were quite enough for one boy to take care of.
Titus didn’t think it was too much at all. Taking care of the Christmas goats meant he got to see Katie every day. He got to deliver her goodies. Even though she had only gone with him on deliveries three separate days, he liked to pretend she sat beside him every time. He imagined that smile and those brown eyes and the way the wind teased little wisps of her hair out from under her bonnet.
He could feel another poem coming on.
Titus glanced around, as if more than Judy, Beth, and Iris might see him, and pulled a cardboard box from under Dawdi’s workbench. He set it on the bench and pulled out two pieces of fudge with nuts, half a round of mozzarella cheese, and a loaf of Katie’s famous cinnamon bread.
He hardly dared hope for a day when Katie would make something special just for him, the way she made Adam a triple chocolate cake almost every day. But for now, he was content to secretly buy her baked goods and keep them stashed in the barn.
He sat down on the old chair next to the workbench, and Judy immediately came close, wanting some of his breakfast. Not wanting to be left out, Beth nudged his leg with her nose. Titus took a piece of cinnamon bread, tore it in half, and fed a half of that to each of his goats. It was Christmastime. They deserved special treats too.
An old, rusty toolbox sat on Dawdi’s workbench. Titus lifted the top shelf and set it aside. In the bottom of the toolbox was where he kept all the poems he’d written about Katie. He unfolded one and read it while he ate.
Katie’s eyes are brown, her hair is brown too.
I like her a lot, and Adam does too.
It was one of his shorter poems and the rhyme wasn’t very gute, but he’d put a lot of thought into it. Maybe he should show it to Adam.
Adam, I’m thinking of courting Katie at the same time you are courting her. Is that okay with you?
Something told him Adam wouldn’t like that very much. He still called Titus “kid.”
After eating, Titus milked the goats. He found the plip-plop of goat’s milk in the bucket very peaceful. It reminded him of Katie. He wasn’t sure why, unless it was because Titus found Katie’s voice just as soothing. Maybe it wasn’t the sound particularly. Maybe everything reminded him of Katie.
Beth was the mischievous goat who didn’t like to stay still, even during milking. Judy was cuddly and would eat almost anything. Beth was so picky, she picked out the spent barley from the feed corn in her trough. Once he’d milked them both, he tied Beth back up to her post, picked up paper and pencil, and jotted down a poem he’d thought of while milking.
Titus donned his heavy gloves and wrapped his scarf tighter around his neck. From the sound of the wind against the slats of the barn, the snow was still blowing. He hoped he wouldn’t have to put on his snowshoes to make it to the house.
He pushed the barn door open. Another foot of snow had piled up against the outside since he’d been inside. He’d have to shovel again. Katie deserved a clear sidewalk. Pressing his scarf over his face to keep the blowing ice from his eyes and grasping the bucket of goats’ milk in his other hand, he waded through the snow toward the house. Through the blizzard, he saw a dark figure struggling up the hill. Was it Katie? Had she needed to go down the hill for some reason earlier this morning? The figure stumbled and fell into a bank of snow, but quickly stood and kept walking.
Titus set down his pail of milk and ran toward her as fast as he could through the deep snow. He reached out and wrapped his gloved hand around Katie’s arm, just in case she needed someone to steady her. But it wasn’t Katie. Even though she kneaded a lot of bread, she didn’t have arms quite that thick.
“Kid,” Adam Wengerd said. “I’m fine. You can let go. You’re going to give me a bruise.”
“Sorry, Adam. I thought you were Katie.”
Titus couldn’t see the expression under Adam’s scarf, but he sounded irritated. “Do I look like Katie?”
Not in the least, except they both had nice teeth.
Titus followed as Adam slogged through the snow toward the house. “What are you doing here?” Adam said. “You shouldn’t be out in this weather.”
“I milk the goats twice a day.”
“Ach, I forgot.” Adam kept walking. “It picked an inconvenient day to snow. Katie promised to make me breakfast, and I didn’t want to miss out on her French toast, but I shouldn’t have come. I can see her any day.”
If Titus were engaged to Katie, he’d make an excuse to see her every day, even if he had to walk across the North Pole to get to her.
“Jason Pyne drove me to the bottom of the hill on his four-wheeler, but I had to walk the rest of the way. I shouldn’t have come.”
Titus retrieved his bucket of milk and followed Adam up the sidewalk. Another four or five inches of snow had accumulated, but at least it wasn’t a struggle to make it to the porch.
Adam knocked, and Mammi opened the door and ushered them in before her kitchen floor was covered with a drift of snow. “Adam and Titus, how nice to see both of you on such a fearsome day. The snow will be up to the tops of the windows before it’s over.”
Titus set the milk bucket in its usual place by the door and peeled off his gloves and hat and scarf, being careful to stay on the rug so he wouldn’t drip on Mammi’s floor. His boots and coat came off next.
Dawdi sat on the sofa lacing up his boots. For sure and certain, he was getting ready to go out and milk the cow.
Katie stood at the kitchen counter looking very pretty in a drab gray dress with her hair tied up in a just-as-drab scarf. Gray suddenly became Titus’s favorite color. She smiled doubtfully at Titus and then at Adam. “I hope you didn’t have too rough a time coming up the hill.”
“I’m looking forward to that French toast,” Adam said. “A tornado couldn’t have kept me away.”
“What I want to know,” Mammi said, “is who was the Good Samaritan who shoveled our sidewalk this morning. It must have taken at least an hour.”
Adam spread his hands wide and gave Mammi a modest bow. “I didn’t want my sweetheart and her grandparents to be buried in the snow.”
If Titus had been chewing on a toothpick, he would have swallowed it.
Dawdi looked up from his boots and raised his eyebrows until they were nearly on top of his head.
Katie glanced at Titus before turning a smile on Adam. “How very nice.”
Adam made a show of bending over to loosen the laces on his boots. The motion brought him closer to Titus. “You don’t mind, do you, kid? I’m trying to impress Katie.”
Titus frowned. A nice boy like Adam shouldn’t lie to impress a girl, even one as wunderbarr as Katie Rose Gingerich. Hadn’t he ever listened in church?
Adam took off his coat and shook it hard. Droplets of water flew in every direction. He didn’t even seem to notice. He left his boots by the door and sat in one of the kitchen chairs.
Titus hurried into the kitchen and grabbed a towel from the drawer. Getting on his hands and knees, he wiped up the water from Mammi’s wood floor. How could Adam know that Mammi was a little unstable on her feet since her surgery in February? She was sure to slip on a wet floor.
Dawdi tromped across the room and lifted his coat from the hook. “Have you ever had Katie’s French toast, Titus? She puts bananas in it.”
“Titus was just leaving,” Adam said. “Nice to see you again, kid. Tell the goats hello for me.”
Titus didn’t remember telling Adam he had to be somewhere. Did he have to be somewhere? Had he forgotten an important appointment?
Katie’s face fell like a rotten apple from a tree. “Ach, really? I was hoping you would tell me what you think of this recipe. It’s bananas Foster French toast with goat’s milk.”
Adam leaned back in his chair. “Goat’s milk? Why does it always have to be goat’s milk? Doesn’t anybody milk cows anymore?”
Dawdi slid his hat over his head. “I’m going out right now.”
“It sounds wonderful-gute,” Titus said. “But I should be going.” Adam wanted time alone with Katie. Titus couldn’t see that he blamed him. After that lie, Adam must have been desperate.
Mammi’s eyes twinkled as she marched to the door, pressed her back against it, and spread her arms out wide. “I forbid you to leave,” she said, looking as if a team of horses couldn’t budge her. “You’ll get lost in the blizzard.”
Titus’s mouth fell open. He was grateful for a second time that he didn’t have a toothpick between his teeth. Did Mammi really want him to wrestle her? The things his grandparents expected from him!
“Won’t you stay?” Katie said.
The tenderness in her eyes convinced him better than his mammi could. He grinned, pulled a toothpick from his pocket, and stuck it between his lips. “Jah, I will stay.”
Adam was the only person in the room who didn’t seem happy about it. Titus felt bad for hurting Adam’s feelings but not bad enough to leave. After breakfast, he’d write a poem for Adam to make him feel better.
He just needed a gute rhyme for shovel.