Katie's Way Page 10

  Katie hadn’t said anything more about losing the man she’d expected to marry, but he understood. He didn’t talk easily about private things, either.

  He suspected that Katie no longer considered marriage a possibility, based on the way she’d looked when she’d spoken of the man she’d loved. Maybe still loved, for that matter.

  So, if he couldn’t have another man sharing the shop space, at least Katie wasn’t a danger to his heart.

  He gave Blackie a final pat. Katie still stood by his buggy, looking into the stable at the mare.

  “If it doesn’t rain this afternoon, maybe I’ll take her out on the road.”

  He glanced toward the sky. Yesterday’s clouds seemed to be clearing off. “I think we’re done with the rain for a few days, at least. Gut thing. The creek is running pretty high.” He jerked his head toward the stream behind the stable.

  “Ja, we could hear it from inside when we went to bed last night.” Katie fell into step with him as they walked toward the shop. “I hope it’s not going to rain on Saturday. I’m supposed to go to the Mud Sale over at Fisherdale with Rachel Zook.”

  “Sunny and mild, that’s what I heard.” He glanced at her face. “So you will try to sell some quilts over at Fisherdale?”

  “I’m not sure whether I’ll take any quilts or just some smaller things.” Katie’s forehead wrinkled. “I don’t know yet how much space I’ll have, sharing a booth with Rachel and her plants.”

  “Is your sister going with you?” They’d reached the porch, and he held open the door to her side of the shop.

  Katie shook her head. “She’ll watch the shop in the morning. Then in the afternoon I told her she could close and go to the mall with Becky and her friends.”

  His fingers tightened on the doorframe. “I didn’t know about the trip to the mall.”

  “No?” Her eyebrows lifted, and her tone asked why he would expect to.

  “No.” He would not apologize for caring about his niece. “I am surprised that Andy and Nancy are allowing Becky to go. I wouldn’t.”

  Katie stared at him for a moment, her chin very firm. “Then perhaps it is lucky for Becky that you are not her father.” She closed the door between them.

  “Let’s put the quilting frame against the wall. We don’t need it for the group today, but I’d like to have it out, especially so the new quilters can see it.” Katie held one end of the folding quilt frame and Rhoda held the other.

  Rhoda slid her end against the wall of the shop’s back room. “How’s that? Gut?”

  “Ja, I think that does it.”

  Her little sister smiled at the quilting frame. “It reminds me of gross-mammi. She was such a gut quilter. And so patient.”

  Touched, Katie put her arm around Rhoda’s waist. “It wonders me that you remember her so well. You were only about five when she passed.”

  Rhoda considered. “About that. I wasn’t in school yet. But I guess you don’t forget somebody who loved you that much.”

  Katie hadn’t looked for such a mature thought from Rhoda. “Ja.” She dropped a kiss on her sister’s cheek. “I don’t think I was so wise at sixteen.”

  Rhoda flushed, obviously pleased, but then moved out of Katie’s embrace with the quick change of mood of a teenager. “I suppose I have to watch the shop while you’re busy with the quilting group.”

  “You suppose right.” She frowned at the chairs. “I wish I had more seats for people. What if more turn up than I expect?”

  “You’re nervous,” Rhoda said, wonderment in her voice. “I don’t believe it.”

  Katie made a face at her. “Don’t you dare tell anyone. But ja, I am. Why is that so surprising? This is important to the success of the shop.”

  Rhoda shrugged her slim shoulders. “I just thought . . . well, you always seem so sure of what you’re doing. Really, you shouldn’t worry. It will work out fine, I know. For sure Molly will be here, and Naomi Brand.” She touched Katie’s shoulder lightly. “It’ll be all right. Honest.”

  Despite her smile, Katie had to blink back a tear. Her little sister was comforting her. That was a change in their roles she hadn’t expected.

  “Denke, Rhoda.” Her voice was husky.

  “I’ll get the extra scissors you wanted to put out.” Rhoda whirled. “And the pattern books.”

  Katie looked after her, a little bemused at seeing such enthusiasm from Rhoda. She was settling down here, finding friends and useful work. Surely Mammi and Daadi would be pleased.

  As for Caleb . . . well, every time she thought Caleb had gotten over his suspicions of her sister, he said or did something that proved her wrong. They’d been having a nice talk about the horses, and she’d felt that they were actually cementing their friendship. Hadn’t she trusted him enough to tell him about Eli?

  And then Caleb had gone and spoiled it with his disapproval over the girls going to the mall.

  Well, she couldn’t stand here thinking about Caleb Brand. She had things to do. She started putting supplies out on the long table.

  Some of the women, like Naomi, would bring quilts they were already making the patches for. Others might be starting from scratch. Katie could only pray that her idea to mix beginners and experienced quilters in the same group didn’t backfire on her.

  Footsteps sounded in the shop, and then Caleb was standing in the doorway carrying a small, armless rocker in each arm. Startled, she could only stare at him.

  “I thought maybe you could use these for your group,” he said. “Mamm always likes to sit in a rocker when she’s hand-sewing.”

  “But these are two of your new ones.” After their tart exchange on the back porch, Katie hadn’t expected to hear a word from Caleb for the rest of the day.

  “It’s fine.” He carried the chairs in and set them down in the corner. They rocked gently from the movement and then stilled. Like everything in Caleb’s shop, they were skillfully made and lovingly hand-polished to a high sheen.

  Maybe this was in the nature of a peace offering. And maybe she was the one who’d overreacted. After all, his objection had been to his niece going to the mall, and that hadn’t been Rhoda’s idea.

  “Denke, Caleb. It is kind of you.”

  He shrugged. “It’s nothing.” He looked at her for a moment longer, and Katie thought he was going to say something more, but then the bell on the door jingled. “I’d best let you get back to work.”

  She stood unmoving for a moment after he’d left, trying to still the butterflies in her stomach. This group was what she wanted, remember?

  She walked into the shop to the sound of voices. Naomi Brand was here already, carrying a bag that undoubtedly held her new project, and with her was Emma Stoltzfus, aunt of Sarah Mast, the midwife. Katie had already heard that she was a very skilled quilter. Rachel Zook came in behind them, pushing a carriage holding her youngest, a little boy not quite three months old.

  Rachel hurried into speech. “Ach, Katie, I hope you don’t mind that I brought little Josiah. The older ones are in school, and my mamm is watching Mary, but I thought it might be better to have him with me. Gideon loves to watch him, but he’s doing some work on my greenhouse today.”

  “Of course it’s fine.” Katie went to peek at the sleeping baby. “Goodness, look at those fat cheeks. Naomi, Emma, have you seen this bu lately?”

  Naomi put her bonnet on the counter, and they came to bend over the carriage, both smiling at the sight. Sarah said that her aunt Emma had aged since she’d had a mini-stroke back in the winter, but she seemed lively enough at the moment, looking at one of the babies her niece had delivered.

  “Ach, what a lamb he is, for sure,” Emma said. “And sleeping so peacefully.” She patted him with a gentle hand.

  “It won’t be long before he’s running all over the place with the older ones,” Naomi pointed out.

  “Don’t remind me,” Rachel said. “I’m going to enjoy the baby stage while it lasts. Now, he stays in one spot while I’m working with
the plants. Soon he’ll probably be pulling them up by the roots.” She pushed the carriage into the corner. “Maybe he’ll sleep through some of the time, at least.”

  “He’ll be fine,” Katie said. “And Rhoda loves babies, so she’d be glad to help out. We’re going to use the back room.” She led the way, but then turned back at the sound of the bell. “You go ahead and get settled.”

  Lisa Macklin hurried in, smoothing her hair down where its sleekness had been disturbed by the breeze. She looked as casually elegant as she had at the Mud Sale, with turquoise earrings dangling from her ears and a matching bracelet just visible beneath the sleeve of her soft jacket.

  Katie wasn’t tempted by Englisch clothing. She never had been. But the fabric . . . she longed to touch it just to see if it was as soft as it looked.

  “I hope I’m not late. The girl who helps me in the shop didn’t get in as early as I’d expected.”

  “Not at all. People are just now coming,” Katie assured her. Aside from her large leather shoulder bag, Lisa was empty-handed. “Do you have a project you’re working on?”

  “Afraid not. You’ll be starting from square one with me when it comes to quilting, but at least I know how to sew.” Lisa’s eyes shone with enthusiasm. “I can’t wait to pick out material for my first project.”

  “Gut, gut.”

  Katie was a little wary of that enthusiasm. From what she knew of Lisa, she was a busy woman with lots of irons in the fire. Katie wouldn’t want to encourage her to start on a big project that might take more time and patience than the woman had.

  “Why don’t you go on to the back room and introduce yourself? There are some pattern books on the table you might want to look at.”

  In the next few minutes two more women arrived . . . Myra Beiler, a shy young mother Katie had gotten to know at church, had brought along her baby as well. The other person was an Englisch woman Katie was sure she hadn’t seen before.

  Myra, with a quick look at the other woman, vanished into the back room carting the baby and a large bag, which had to hold a quilt in progress. Katie wasn’t concerned about Myra fitting in, since she would know Naomi and Rachel and Emma, of course.

  The Englisch woman was another story. Katie smiled at her. “Are you here for the quilting group?”

  “That’s right.” The woman’s answering smile warmed a strong-boned face. “I’m Donna Evans. I hope it’s not a problem that I didn’t let you know I was coming.”

  “No, of course not. You are welcome, Mrs. Evans. I’m Katie Miller.”

  “Please, call me Donna.” The woman looked around the shop with frank curiosity. “This is certainly a far cry from the hardware store that used to be here.”

  Katie nodded. Mrs. Evans . . . Donna . . . was probably about the same age as Lisa, but there the resemblance ended. Her brown hair was pulled back carelessly and fastened with a clip at the base of her neck. She wore little makeup, just a touch of lipstick, and her plain white shirt was tucked into the waist of a denim skirt.

  “Have you quilted before, Donna?” It would be helpful to know what she was dealing with.

  “A little,” she said. “I took a class once and made a table runner, but I never felt comfortable enough to try anything larger. Your group seemed the perfect place to get going on a project.”

  “That’s fine.” Katie hoped her relief didn’t show in her voice. It would be difficult to deal with two beginners. “Komm. We’re meeting in the back room.”

  They walked back together. The woman’s appearance and manner eased any apprehension Katie felt about her fitting into the group.

  Lisa and Rachel were already deep in conversation, while Myra looked on and nodded sometimes. Myra’s little girl sat at her feet, contentedly playing with cloth blocks. She looked up, smiling with the instant love that Down’s syndrome babies seemed to show the world, and Katie smiled back, her heart melting.

  Naomi was showing the patches for her new quilt to Emma. They all looked up when Katie and Donna entered.

  “This is Donna Evans. Donna, I’m not sure if you know anyone here ...”

  “Of course I do.” Donna went immediately to where Naomi and Emma sat. “We are old friends.”

  “Gut, gut.” Katie took a deep breath, her butterflies returning. “I hope we’ll enjoy our time together, helping each other with our quilts.”

  Smiles and nods greeted her comment.

  “Maybe we can start by showing what we’re working on, those of us who’ve already started something, and . . .”

  A step sounded behind Katie, and she turned to see the young woman from the hardware store, Melanie, peering in uncertainly.

  “Is it okay if I join you?”

  “Ja, of course.” Katie waved her in. “This is Melanie, everyone. Or maybe you know her?”

  No one seemed to, but they smiled in welcome, and Rachel, who was comfortable with the Englisch, probably because of her greenhouse business, beckoned her to a seat.

  “I haven’t been in town very long, and I haven’t gotten to know anyone yet. Except Mike, who manages the hardware store. He’s my fiancé.” Melanie looked around, her eyes wide with interest.

  “So you came here to Pleasant Valley to be close to him,” Lisa said.

  “Yes, well, he really wanted me to settle here.” Melanie fixed her gaze on Katie. “I just hope I can keep up with the group. I don’t know a thing about quilting, but I want to learn.”

  Lisa reached across to pat her hand. “That makes two of us, then. Don’t worry. I know all these ladies are going to help us.”

  That seemed to set a good tone on which to begin. Katie led them through introductions, and those who were already working on projects showed them. Donna had everyone laughing at her story of her first experience with learning to quilt.

  Soon everyone was occupied. Donna, it turned out, had already chosen a simple one-patch design and brought her material, so Rachel helped her lay it out and start the cutting. Emma, who seemed to have a natural authority after having been the valley’s midwife for so many years, took on helping Melanie choose an easy pattern for a wall hanging.

  Mindful of her plan not to let Lisa take on too much, Katie guided her to a table runner as a suitable first piece. She quickly realized that Lisa, as she might have expected, had an excellent sense of color.

  After an hour, as they had planned, Rhoda brought in coffee and coffee cakes. Then, as if irresistibly drawn, she settled on the floor next to Myra’s baby, helping her to stack blocks.

  Katie listened to the chatter among the women as they helped themselves to food, her heart warming at the sound. It was just as she had hoped. Amish and Englisch were finding common ground. The roomful of women might look like a crazy quilt of colors and styles, but even a crazy quilt was united by a single purpose.

  Eventually their time was up, and they began gathering their belongings. Lisa came to clasp Katie’s hand.

  “This was lovely,” she said. “I can’t tell you how much I enjoyed myself.”

  “Me, too.” Melanie’s smile lit her face. “I can’t wait until next week. It’s so nice to finally know some people in town.”

  “You’ll find Pleasant Valley a gut place to live,” Katie assured the young woman. It had certainly proved to be that for her.

  “We just need to let more people know how lovely our town is,” Lisa said. “Once we get more tourists coming through—”

  “Tourists?” Donna shook her head, putting a wealth of scorn into the word. “What would we want with tourists? The last thing we need is to turn Pleasant Valley into another Lancaster County, with its miles of tourist traps and everybody cashing in on the Amish name.”

  Fortunately that comment hadn’t been aimed at Katie, because she wouldn’t have known how to answer. Lisa just shrugged, brushing off the remark with a smile.

  “Not hordes of tour buses,” she said. “Just a few travelers with money to spend at local businesses. That benefits everyone.”

 
Donna didn’t look convinced. “Once you start something like that, you can’t control it. Mark my words, we’re better off as we are.”

  Emma nodded, apparently agreeing, while even Naomi looked troubled.

  Katie’s heart sank. She’d thought Lisa’s plan to bring more visitors to Pleasant Valley was a gut one. But it certainly wouldn’t be gut to divide the community, would it?

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Rachel goes to Mud Sales several times in the spring, and she says that most of them are just as gut as this one was.” Katie had been telling Rhoda about the sale all through supper. She just couldn’t help bubbling about it. This might have been the best sales day she’d had since she’d opened the shop.

  “So you could go to more of them, ja?” Rhoda was making an effort to sound interested, at least. She helped herself to another spoonful of the tuna noodle casserole she’d had ready when Katie got home.

  Katie had been surprised, and a little touched. She hadn’t thought of asking her sister to fix supper, not being sure what time she and Rachel would return.

  “I think I might. And maybe I’ll take more things to sell next time, since I sold out of everything I brought today.”

  “It’s gut advertising for the shop, ain’t so?” Rhoda said. “You could give out cards with the shop address, or even make flyers.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that.” Katie studied Rhoda’s face, the pointed chin tipped up, the broad forehead furrowed in thought, liking the signs of interest. “Do you think you could design something?”

  “You mean it?” Rhoda’s golden-brown eyes lit up. “Ja, I could do that. Maybe something with quilt designs on it. I could use the computer at the library.”

  “You know how to do that?” Katie wasn’t really surprised. Many Amish used computers in their businesses these days, or had Englisch workers to handle the computer side of the work.

  “Ja, for sure I can. I’ll start working on some ideas right away.”

  Rhoda’s enthusiasm touched Katie’s heart. Maybe all her sister wanted was what she herself did . . . to be needed and of value.