Chapter Three

Three hours later, I knelt on the floor in my new bedroom putting my bed frame together. Taking the bed apart had been easy. Putting it back together was a bit more difficult. As I worked, my thoughts wandered to the two men in the pickup. Who were they? What did they want with Becky? Would I see them again? I hoped not.

I slid the bolt into the eye socket, but it wouldn’t move into a locked position. I gave the metal frame three good yanks, and finally, the bolt slid into place, nicking the index finger on my right hand in the process. “Ow!” I popped the pinched finger into my mouth.

“Chloe? My brother is here.”

I turned my head and found myself staring at jean-clad legs and work boots. I scrambled into a standing position, my face coming within inches of a man’s. Startled, I took one huge step backward and stumbled over the bed frame, but righted myself before falling to the dusty hardwood floor below.

Both Becky and her brother jumped forward to help me. My hands fluttered in front of me as heat raced up the back of my neck. I wrapped my arms around my waist to still myself.

Becky wore a huge grin on her face. “Chloe, this is my brother, Timothy.” She tugged her brother’s sleeve. “Chloe starts working at the college tomorrow. You should stop in and see her while you’re there.”

Timothy smiled, and his eyes lit up.

My knees weakened, but I told myself it was from the humiliation of the near fall. Becky’s brother was as handsome as she was beautiful. He had the same white-blond hair and blue eyes. His muscles flexed under his shirt as he put an arm around his sister’s shoulder.

Buggy boy! Tanisha’s teasing voice played in my head. She’d be thrilled with this latest development. My face grew warm. Lord, why did You have to make me blush so easily?

Timothy broke into my thoughts. “Which building will you be working in?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen the campus yet. The college interviewed me over the phone.” My words tumbled out in a rush. Pull it together, Chloe.

Timothy examined the half-assembled bed frame. “Do you need help?”

“No, no, I got it.” I tucked the injured hand behind my back.

His blue eyes twinkled. “If you say so.”

My gaze flicked over to his left hand. No ring. My face grew even warmer. Why did I do that? Had Becky and Timothy noticed my glance? How embarrassing! Tanisha would get an earful for putting that buggy boy idea into my head.

“Th-thank you for coming to fix the door. I don’t know what I would have done otherwise.”

“It’s no trouble.” He frowned at his sister. “I was glad to know my sister is safe.”

Becky didn’t look at him, but that peculiar pinched expression crossed her pretty face again.

Timothy sighed. “I’d better get to work. It was nice to meet you, Chloe.”

“You too.” Out of habit, I held out my hand for a handshake.

After staring at my extended hand for what felt like a decade, he shook it. I pulled my hand away as if I had been shocked.

I had only been in Appleseed Creek for a few hours, and already I’d made a fool of myself in front of the first attractive man I’d met. As I sat on the floor for round two with the bed frame, I tried to shake off my embarrassment.

Thirty minutes later, the bed frame was together with my box springs and mattress on top of it. As I struggled with the fitted sheet, angry voices floated through the open window. I gave up the battle and tiptoed over to the window. Becky and Timothy were in a heated argument below. I could not understand a word, as they spoke Pennsylvania Dutch.

Becky crossed her arms. “I’ve made up my mind.”

Her brother sighed, as if in defeat.

I stepped away from the window, guilty for eavesdropping. But was it really eavesdropping if I didn’t understand most of the conversation?

Becky entered my bedroom. “Timothy finished fixing the doorknob. Would you like to see it?”

I nodded, then followed her down the stairs while running my fingers through my hair.

Timothy stood by the closed front door. A new shiny doorknob took the place of the gaping hole. “Give it a try.”

I turned the knob, relieved that it felt sturdy in my grasp. As I pulled the door open, an enormous brown and black dog rushed in and jumped up on my shoulders. I screamed and stumbled back into Timothy, who caught me before I hit the floor.

Gigabyte hissed; the sound of his nails scratching the wood floors as he made his escape echoed throughout the house.

Timothy extended his free arm toward the animal. “Bad dog, Mabel! Down!”

The dog fell on all fours.

I caught my breath.

Timothy let go of me and took hold of Mabel’s collar. “I’m sorry. She usually doesn’t behave like that.”

Mabel whimpered. The dog had a short ruff that resembled a collie, but the pointed ears and disposition of a German shepherd.

Timothy pointed to the floor. “Lay down.”

She obeyed.

Becky’s eyes grew wide . “Are you afraid of dogs, Chloe?”

I shook my head. “I was taken off guard. I didn’t expect her to be there.”

“I didn’t expect her to be there either. She was supposed to wait in the truck.” Timothy’s face turned red all the way to the hairline. If anything, his embarrassment made him even more handsome.

He cleared his throat, and in the awkward silence that followed, Timothy began demonstrating his handiwork by opening and closing the door. “I added a deadbolt because you didn’t have one.” His voice turned softer. “Appleseed Creek is a safe town, but you can never be too careful.”

“Thank you. How much do I owe you for the parts and the labor too? I’d like to pay you for your trouble.” I moved toward my purse on the lone armchair in my living room. The measly collection of furniture from my one-bedroom apartment back home seemed pathetic in such a large house.

His jaw twitched. “Not necessary. I should go. It’s my turn to cook dinner tonight at home.”

At home? Was he married? I swallowed. Maybe Amish men didn’t wear wedding rings. “I hope we didn’t keep you from your family.”

Becky stepped forward. “Timothy doesn’t live on the farm any- more. He lives with freinden in a house in town. It’s a street or two over from here.”

“Oh.” I tried to keep a ridiculous smile from forming on my face.

Timothy glanced outside. “Is that your U-Haul in the driveway?”

I nodded.

“If you’re finished with it, I can return it on my way home.”

“Thank you!” After driving for three hours, I wasn’t looking forward to climbing back into my little SUV again to return the trailer.

He smiled. “Mind keeping an eye on Mabel as I hitch it up to the truck?”

I reached for the dog.

A few minutes later, the U-Haul was hitched to Timothy’s pickup. Becky and I sat on the crooked front porch steps, Mabel laying across our laps.

Timothy laughed as he approached us. “She thinks she’s a lapdog.”

I scratched under her ruff. “I don’t mind. She’s a good girl.”

He wiped his hands. “Schweschder,” he said to Becky. “Think about what I have said.”

She pushed Mabel off our laps and stood.

Mabel gave a little woof of displeasure.

Becky raised her chin a fraction. “You made your decision, and I have a right to make mine.”

Timothy sighed and slapped his hand to his thigh. “Come, Mabel. Good-bye, Chloe. Take care of my sister. She can be a handful.” The pair jumped into the pickup and drove away with the U-Haul hitched to the back.

Later that evening, Becky and I ate fast food on the hard floor of my nearly empty living room. Gig rubbed my leg, and I broke off a little piece of hamburger to give him. I popped a french fry into my mouth, wondering if I should ask Becky about the argument I’d overheard between her and Timothy, and if she planned to stay the night. She’d didn’t appear to have plans to leave.

“I saw your Bible and books in one of the boxes,” Becky said. “I hope you don’t mind me looking at them.”

“I don’t.”

“You are a Christian, then?”

I nodded.

She smiled. “Gut. That’s what I thought and told my brother so. He wasn’t happy when I said I met you on the side of the highway.”

I felt my face flush again. I hated to guess what Timothy thought of me. “Did you tell him about the two men?”

She put her strawberry milkshake on the floor. “No, he would worry. My brother forgets I am nineteen years old. I am an adult.” She took a big bite out of her hamburger. Ketchup ran down her chin.

I handed her a napkin. “What do you mean?” I gave Gig another piece of hamburger. He deserved it after his harrowing journey in the car.

“He thinks I should go home, back to the farm. My family wants me to give up my rumspringa and marry Bishop Glick’s son.”

“But you don’t want to.”

“No. Isaac is a gut man and will make someone a gut husband, but I want to study art. I won’t be able to do that if I marry him. I’ve been taking classes the last year.” She twisted the napkin in her hands. “I haven’t told my parents about the lessons, but I can’t give them up, not yet.” She stood and retrieved her canvas bag from where she’d left it beside the stairs. “I have something to show you.” She removed a black portfolio from her bag, opened it, and took out several sheets of watercolor paper. The first painting was of an Amish girl and a brown horse.

“The girl is my schweschder, my sister, Ruth. She’s twelve.”

The painting looked lifelike, as if I could reach through the paper and pet the mare’s head. Becky had captured the special twinkle in her younger sister’s eyes, too, a twinkle much like her own. “Becky, this is beautiful.”

She smiled and showed me another painting, this one of a young man leaning against an Amish buggy. He had dark hair, brown eyes, and a patient expression on his face. “This is Isaac.”

“He’s handsome.”

She blushed. “He doesn’t understand what I want to be.” She put the paintings away.

“You can’t paint if you are Amish?”

“I can paint, but not like I want to.” Her eyes lit up. “I want to study art—Picasso, Monet, all the masters. I want to learn about their work. I want to learn about light, reflection, and depth and how to be a true artist. I could never do that at home. Education is discouraged there. If I married, I would immediately have to think about raising a family. I’m not ready for that.”

“Where have you been living?”

“At home. I left today. I had an argument with my parents about Isaac. I’m glad we saw my eldest bruder. He will tell my mamm and daed I’m safe. I don’t want them to worry.” She tucked her portfolio back into her canvas bag. “Is that your mamm?” She pointed to the lone photograph on the mantle.

I nodded. It was a picture of my mother not long before the accident. In it, she stood on a pebble-covered Lake Erie beach. It was a rare sunny day on the lake, and the golden highlights in her red hair reflected the bright sunlight. My hair was the same shade of red, but I doubted it was ever as beautiful.

“You must miss her.”

“I do.”

“Will she visit you?”

I bit the inside of my lip. The accident happened ten years ago, but it never got any easier to explain. “She passed away.”

Becky paled. “I’m so sorry.”

“It was a long time ago.” I waited for the next question. It was always the same one. “What happened?” Then I would say, “It was a car accident.” And then they would ask for more details. Details I didn’t want to share.

To my surprise, Becky asked something different. “Where is the rest of your family?”

Her question caught me off guard. Where was my family? Was it in Italy with Tanisha and her parents? Or was it in California with my father, Sabrina, and their children?

Becky knitted her brows. “Did I say something that upset you?”

I shook my head. “I’m tired. That’s all.” I tossed the remains of our dinner into the garbage. “You’re welcome to stay here for the night. You were a huge help to me today.” I didn’t add that we would be talking about her permanent housing plans tomorrow.

“And you to me.” She gave me her beautiful smile. “We will be good frienden. That means friends.”

“I’d like that. There is a box of blankets and sheets in the second bedroom.”

She thanked me, and I picked up Gigabyte and climbed up the creaky stairs to bed.

Alone in my new bedroom, I tried to put Timothy Troyer out of mind. Married or not, no way should I consider any kind of attachment to him. He was Amish. I was a computer geek. It would never work. I blamed matchmaking Tanisha for my lapse in judgment. Besides, I planned to be in Appleseed Creek for a short time, two years max. I was here to get the real-life work experience that every other institution and company said I lacked. In two years, I’d find a job in civilization.

I changed into my pajamas and sat on the edge of my newly made bed to call my father. It was only a little after seven in the evening in San Diego.

As usual I got his voicemail. I swallowed. “Hi, Dad. I’m in Appleseed Creek now. I moved into my new house today. It’s nice enough. I start working at the college tomorrow—”

Beep! A female automated-voice much like Pepper’s came over the line. The mailbox you are trying to reach is full. Please hang up and try again.

I tapped my smartphone’s screen and hung up, then moved to the window and peered out onto my narrow one-way street. The lights in the homes along the street were out, their owners safely tucked away in bed. Large oak trees lining the tree lawn blocked the streetlamps’ dim glow. Cicadas hummed their nightly songs, and birds twittered in the tree branches, waiting for sleep. I’d imagined country life would be like this—quiet, serene, safe.

The jarring sounds of a car backfiring broke the evening’s tranquility. A pickup roared up the street, and I watched as its red taillights disappeared around the corner. Although I hoped it was my imagination, there was no doubt in my mind that the pickup was green.