Amish Country Box Set: Restless HeartsThe Doctor's BlessingCourting Ruth Page 5

  It sounded as if she were trying to convince herself. “Is that what your parents would say?” The last thing she needed was to cause a fight over encouraging Rachel’s teenage rebellion.

  Rachel shrugged. “Not exactly. Everyone is waiting for my grandfather to decide how we should act. But I didn’t want to wait.”

  Anger spurted up at Rachel’s description of the family’s reaction. Rachel’s grandfather—her grandfather, too—would decide whether the rest of the family should speak to her. She’d told herself she didn’t want anything to do with them, so why did that hurt?

  “Rachel, I appreciate your coming to see me, but I don’t want to get you into trouble. Maybe you should go.”

  Jonah shuffled his feet. “Ja, Rachel. It is time we were home.”

  Rachel tossed her head. “Some things I can decide for myself. Besides, Ted Rittenhouse is your friend, and he is an old friend to my family, too. He and my aunt Emma courted when they were young, they did.”

  That was a tidbit of information about Ted she’d have to consider later.

  “I’m happy you came, but maybe you should get on home. It’ll be night soon.” The thought of them out on a dark highway in that buggy sent a chill down Fiona’s spine. That couldn’t be safe. “I hope we’ll meet again.”

  A loud rap on the door put a period to her words. Rachel grabbed Jonah’s hand, and both of them looked as if they’d been caught raiding the pantry.

  Somehow, even through the curtain, there was no mistaking that tall, broad figure. She gave them a reassuring smile and opened the door. It was Ted, of course.

  “I wasn’t expecting you.” That was an understatement. Ted had a way of showing up at the most inconvenient times.

  “No, I guess not.” Ted stepped inside, not waiting for an invitation. “And you two weren’t expecting me either, I’ll bargain.”

  He frowned at the two teenagers, but instead of looking intimidated, as Fiona anticipated, Rachel gave him a saucy smile. “Not expecting, no. But we are not doing anything wrong, Mr. Policeman.”

  “Your parents might not agree to that.”

  Rachel pouted, obviously sure of her relationship with him. “You won’t tell. Everyone knows the kinds of things you got up to when you were our age.”

  Was that actually a twinkle in Ted’s steely blue eyes? “I might have to arrest you for blackmailing an officer of the law, Miss Rachel.”

  “We were on our way out.” Jonah tugged at Rachel’s sleeve. “I will see Rachel safe home, I will.”

  Rachel let herself be led to the door. “I will see you again, Cousin Fiona. Soon.”

  “I’ll look forward to it.”

  She tried to ignore the disapproving look Ted sent her way. This was not any of his business, no matter how much he might think otherwise.

  She went to the door to see them off, and Ted followed the teens outside. “You have your lights and reflectors on properly, Jonah?”

  The boy nodded, climbing up to the buggy. Fiona watched from the doorway as Ted walked around to the back of the buggy, apparently double-checking the orange reflective triangle and the blinking red warning light that must have worked off some sort of battery when Jonah flipped it on.

  “All right, then.” He came back around and smacked the horse on its rump. “Get along home, you two.”

  Fiona heard Rachel giggle as Jonah slapped the reins, and the buggy moved slowly off toward the road. Regret slid through her. Would Rachel come back? It hardly seemed likely if her parents heard about this little visit.

  She stepped out onto the back stoop. “You won’t tell Rachel’s parents about this, will you? She didn’t mean any harm.”

  “No. I won’t.” He planted one foot on the low step and leaned against the railing. The soft glow from the light over the door caught them in its small circle, picking up glints of gold in Ted’s thick brown hair. “And you don’t need to tell me this wasn’t your idea. I know full well it was Rachel’s.”

  At least he didn’t sound angry, with the kids or with her. “I was—well, astonished. I didn’t realize Amish kids had that much freedom.”

  “The rumspringa,” he said. “I suppose you don’t know about that.”

  She folded her arms across her chest, drawing her sweater close around her.

  “Tell me about it.”

  “It’s a time when Amish teenagers get to taste the outside world, generally when they’re between sixteen and twenty. Sowing wild oats, I suppose you might say. A time when they go courting, too.”

  It flashed through her mind, then, what Rachel had said about Ted courting her aunt. Flashed through, and was quickly dismissed. She didn’t know him well enough to ask him about his personal life, even though he didn’t hesitate to intrude in hers.

  “They seem too young for that.”

  He shrugged. “They’ll probably be married by the time they’re in their early twenties. But before they are baptized into the church, they have the chance to explore the world a little. It’s a way to make sure the Amish life is really what they want.”

  “So it wasn’t that bad—Rachel coming to see me?”

  He frowned. “That’s another thing altogether. If her parents forbade her to see you, she shouldn’t disobey. And they wouldn’t appreciate your encouraging her.”

  “I didn’t. How could I possibly encourage it? I had no idea who she was until she explained the connection. She was just curious about me. Haven’t you ever been curious?”

  His gaze rested on her for a long moment, and her breath seemed to catch in her throat at the warmth in his eyes.

  “Yes, I have been curious.” For a moment she almost thought he’d add, about you. “But I am not sixteen. Or Amish.”

  “You just said her parents gave her more freedom now.” She rushed the words. It was safer to keep the conversation on Rachel, not on Ted, because otherwise she might read too much into the way he was looking at her.

  “That doesn’t mean they don’t worry about her. About the influence of English people on her.”

  “English?”

  “World people. Those who are not Amish.” His expression lightened. “The world calls the Amish Pennsylvania Dutch, when they’re really German. So the Amish call all outsiders English.”

  “People like me.” She got it, finally. “You mean they wouldn’t want her to be around me because they’re afraid of the influence I might have on her.” She straightened. “That’s so far-fetched it’s ridiculous.”

  “Is it?” He looked at her steadily, and that stolid face of his didn’t give anything away. The growing darkness pressed around them, reminding her of that first night, trapped in the beam of his flashlight.

  “Yes.” The word came out defiantly. She wouldn’t let him intimidate her into saying she’d turn Rachel away from her door, if that’s what he had in mind.

  “You’re forgetting.” His voice was quiet, but there was suppressed emotion in his intent eyes. “But they haven’t. It was during her rumspringa that Hannah met your father. She turned her back on everything that was important to her. They never saw her again.”

  She took an involuntary step away from him, trying to frame a response through the chaos his words set off in her mind. But Ted turned and disappeared into the darkness.

  * * *

  “And today they all reappeared without a word of explanation.” Fiona glanced across the front seat of Nolie’s battered old station wagon.

  Nolie lifted her hands from the wheel for a second. “I can’t explain it. And there’s probably no use in asking. The Amish don’t generally explain to outsiders their reasons for doing things.”

  “I’ve gathered that.” Fiona’s mind flickered to that disturbing conversation with Ted after Rachel’s visit.

  If Ted was trying to help her understand, he wasn’t doing a very good job of it. Maybe his own emotions were getting in the way. After what Rachel had said about Ted courting her aunt, she could understand why he’d have strong feelings on the
subject.

  But she wasn’t going to discuss that with Nolie. “Anyway, I was glad to see the carpenters back at work today. And for Ruth’s sake, I was happy to see the quilters back in the general store. I’d hate to cause problems for her.”

  Nolie nodded. “I’ve heard about her store. I understand she gets orders from all over the country for those handmade quilts.” She glanced toward the back of the station wagon, piled high with packages. “Speaking of buying and selling, we did pretty well today, didn’t we?”

  “We did. I can’t thank you enough. I’d never have found all those outlets alone.” Thanks to Nolie’s expertise, she’d found most of the curtains and linens she needed for the house and her practice at bargain prices.

  “It was fun.” Nolie shot her an amused glance. “Much more fun than shopping with Gabe, believe me. All he ever says is, ‘It looks fine. Are you done now?’”

  “I can imagine.” She smiled, but a thread of worry still laced through her mind. “I just hope I’m going to need all these things. What if the Amish decide not to use my services? That would really make a dent in my practice.”

  “That’s not going to happen,” Nolie said comfortingly. “But even if it did, I’m sure there are plenty of other moms who’d choose to have midwife care. And you still have your work at the birthing center in Suffolk, too.”

  “Only two days a week.” That was all the birthing center needed of her. At first she’d been delighted. Affiliating with them gave her the backup she needed while allowing her the time to build her own practice. Now that two-day-a-week paycheck was starting to look pretty small.

  “I wouldn’t worry too much.” Nolie hesitated for a moment. “You know, I’ve felt from the beginning that God had a specific purpose in bringing you here. I hope you don’t mind my saying that.”

  “No, not at all.” A lump formed in her throat. “It’s what I’ve felt, too. But sometimes it’s hard to see how it’s working out.”

  Nolie smiled. “Walk by faith, not by sight. That’s all any of us can do.” She pulled up in front of Fiona’s house. “Can I help you carry the packages in?”

  “I’ll get them. I know you’re eager to get home to Gabe and the baby.” She leaned across the seat to give Nolie a quick hug. “Thanks. For more than just the shopping.”

  “Anytime.” Nolie’s return hug was warm. “What are cousins for?”

  Fiona unloaded her purchases onto the porch and waved as Nolie drove away. She and Nolie had moved from being unknown relatives to being friends, and that was certainly a blessing for this day.

  She carried one load inside, startled to hear the sound of hammers from the office. She’d thought the carpenters had gone for the day. Dropping the packages at the foot of the stairs, she headed for the office.

  And stopped dead in the doorway. One man, Amish by his clothing, knelt to hammer a shelf into place. The person holding the shelf was Ted.

  “I didn’t realize you were still here.”

  They both looked up at the sound of her voice, two pairs of nearly identical blue eyes staring at her. Then Ted rose, dusting off his hands.

  “Jacob stayed to finish up the shelves.” He darted a quick glance around the office. “He thought you might want to start putting things in here.”

  “That’s very thoughtful.” Her voice sounded stilted, but she couldn’t seem to help it. “Are you helping him?”

  What are you doing here? That was what she wanted to say, but she’d already created enough waves in this small community without starting a fresh argument with its only full-time police officer.

  The carpenter stood, putting his hammer into a wooden toolbox. “Not so much help,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “Ted is good enough for holding things while I work, but if I turned him loose with a hammer, you might be finding your books sliding off the shelf.”

  Ted’s face relaxed in a smile. “If that’s so, then you’re to blame. You taught me whatever I know about carpentry.” He looked at Fiona, and she caught the slight wariness in his eyes. “This is Jacob Rittenhouse. My brother.”

  She could only hope the shock she felt wasn’t reflected in her face. She managed what she hoped was a credible smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Jacob. You’ve done a wonderful job on those shelves.”

  He ducked his head gravely. “They will be useful.”

  She’d already noticed that the Amish responded that way. They stressed the usefulness of an object, but the shelves really were a work of art, each rounded edge finished perfectly by hand.

  “It’s obvious that nothing will slide off any shelves that you make.”

  He didn’t respond to that, as if to recognize the compliment could be construed as bragging. “I will be on my way, now.” He started toward the door, pausing long enough to say something in dialect to Ted.

  Ted grinned, clapping him on the shoulder, and answered in kind. Then he turned to her, apparently feeling the byplay needed an explanation. “He’s warning me not to touch his tools. He’s been saying that to me since I was three.”

  “Because you dropped the bow saw down the well and we were half the day getting it out again.” Jacob settled his straw hat more firmly on his head. “You will come to dinner one night soon.”

  “Soon.” Ted followed him out to the porch, saying a few more words she couldn’t understand.

  Fiona stood where she was, trying to wrap her mind around this. Ted Rittenhouse had been born Amish, obviously. Just as obviously, he was one no longer. How did that fit into the warnings he’d given her about not seeking any relationship with her mother’s family?

  The screen door creaked. Ted stopped with the door half open. “May I come back in for a moment?”

  She nodded. What would he do if she asked the questions that were battering at her mind? Walk away again? That seemed to be his usual response.

  “That’s really your brother?” The words were out before she had time to censor them. But why should she? He was the one who’d opened the subject of his family background, just by being here with Jacob.

  “Yes.”

  “Just yes? You didn’t come back in to satisfy my curiosity?”

  “No.” His brows drew together. “I came back because I wanted to apologize. What I said about your parents, after Rachel left—I shouldn’t have. It wasn’t my place to say anything about them.”

  “I agree. It wasn’t.” She stared at him, trying to understand what had driven this apology.

  “I’m sorry. Can’t you just accept that and let it go?” Exasperation edged his voice, and she was tempted to tell him that he wasn’t really very good at apologizing.

  “No, I can’t.” She took a breath. Maybe it wasn’t wise, but this had to be said. “Because how you react to me has an effect on my acceptance here. And it’s really not fair if you’re prejudiced against me because my mother left the Amish community, when it’s clear that you did exactly the same thing.”

  Chapter Five

  Ted stood where he was for a moment, fighting the urge to turn and walk right out the door. And an almost equally strong urge to take Fiona by the shoulders and make her listen to common sense about dealing with people she didn’t understand.

  But he couldn’t do either of those things. He couldn’t walk away, because he was honest enough to recognize the truth in what she said. And he couldn’t touch her, because—well, it was better if he didn’t explore the possibility of touching her.

  She was right in one sense. His attitude toward her was tainted by his past. Neither of them could help that. Maybe that meant she had the right to know a bit more of the truth, if for no other reason than to keep her from stumbling around and causing more trouble by asking the wrong person.

  Fiona still waited, her arms folded, face closed off to him. She had that rare ability to wait, her silence demanding answers.

  He moved closer, resting his hand on the carved newel post. The smooth grain of the oak felt warm under his fingers. “The builders did some fine work
in this house. Jacob’s work will be up to theirs.”

  “I know.” She gave a short nod. “I’ve seen your brother’s skill.”

  “You want to know.” He shrugged. “I guess it’s inevitable. Why does Jacob Rittenhouse, Amish carpenter, have a brother who’s a police officer?”

  Her hands, which had been pressing stiffly against the sides of her navy slacks, relaxed a bit. “It does seem an odd combination.”

  “I guess it does.” He smoothed his palm over the smooth round ball that topped the newel post. The carpenter was long dead, probably, but his craftsmanship lived on. “Folks here in Crossroads know all about me.”

  “But an outsider like me doesn’t.”

  He studied her for a moment. That almost-red hair came from her Irish relatives, probably. But her skin was the same creamy ivory as Rachel’s, and those clear gray eyes turned up here and there in the Stolzfus family and their kin.

  “You’re not really an outsider, are you? Like it or not, you have ties here.” He shrugged. “It’s not a very exciting story. You might be bored.”

  Her mouth softened, and she took a step toward him. “I won’t be bored.”

  “Well, then.” How to explain this so that Fiona, who’d probably always had every choice in the world, would understand? “I grew up on a farm not far from here. My brother Daniel and his family run it now.” He smiled. “If you want to know what I was like, just go out and look at Daniel’s kids—barefoot towheads learning how to care for the stock and harrow the fields. That was me.”

  “But you weren’t just like them. Or you wouldn’t be wearing this.” She was close enough now to reach out and touch the police patch on his sleeve.

  “My mother always said I was born asking why. I suppose that was the first sign. By the time I was a teenager, I was always restless.” Maybe he still was, still trying to be sure of his place in the world. “Didn’t you ever feel that, even with a warm, loving family behind you?”

  Some emotion he couldn’t identify crossed her face and was gone. “Not exactly.” She shook her head. “We were talking about you, not me.”