Huckleberry Hearts (4 page)

Cassie didn't feel the need to respond. She could still hear Mamm lecturing her as she went into Mammi's room to find a kapp. Mammi surely had three or four extras, and hopefully she wouldn't mind if Cassie rummaged through her drawers. After finding a kapp in Mammi's top drawer, she pinned her short hair into an awkward bun and placed the kapp on her head. She didn't mind wearing the prayer covering. It reminded her of happy days on the farm when Dat was alive and Mamm hadn't disapproved of everything she did.

Mammi's maroon dress hung on a hook by her bed. Should she put on the whole outfit for good measure? Mamm was bound to complain about Cassie's jeans and cardigan. Might as well wear Mammi's extra dress and a pair of black stockings and quit offending people.

The dress was a tad short. After all, Cassie stood eight inches taller than her mammi. Mammi measured wider than Cassie so the extra material added a little length to the dress. She tied a black apron around her waist and hoped Mammi didn't mind that Cassie played dress-up in her clothes. The outfit sagged in places, but Mamm would probably be satisfied.

They were waiting patiently and quietly for her, except for baby Paul who had added squeaking to his banging. When Cassie ambled down the hall looking like a proper Amish girl, Mamm smirked, as if Cassie had finally come around to her way of thinking. Cassie sighed inwardly. Did she make matters worse by giving in to Mamm's demands?

Mamm sat down without another word. Norman sat too, although he looked as hostile as ever, as if he allowed Cassie at the table reluctantly.

They followed Dawdi in bowing their heads for silent grace. Cassie nearly chuckled at the thought that Norman would probably peek to see if she closed her eyes like everyone else. No doubt he thought her a heathen now, even though she attended church faithfully every Sunday. Just not Amish services.

Once they'd said grace, Mamm dished up the stew from the Dutch oven. Mamm wasn't a great cook, but she wasn't bad like Mammi, and her stew was one of the best things she made. Cassie's stomach growled. In her haste to get out of Chicago, she hadn't eaten anything since breakfast.

“When do you have to be back to school, Cassie?” Linda asked while blowing on Jacob's bowl of stew.

“School?” Mamm scowled. “All she does is look at naked pictures all day.”

Cassie felt her face get warm at Mamm's stubbornness. Cassie had explained her major to Mamm several times, but Mamm chose to deliberately misunderstand her because it gave her something else to beat Cassie over the head with.

Cassie pressed a carefree smile onto her lips. It felt so stiff, she thought her face might crack.
Avoid contention at all costs.
“You're such a tease, Mamm. My subject is art history.”

“Art history,” Mamm growled under her breath. “Will art history help you make bread or sew dresses or have babies?”

Cassie waited patiently while Mamm dished out stew. She was going to make a point to serve her last. “I'm finished with my bachelor's degree,” Cassie said, just in case anyone cared. Well, anyone besides Mammi and Dawdi. “I graduated in December.”

Luke looked as if he'd like to smile wider, if only he could get Mamm's permission. “Congratulations, Cassie. That's a great accomplishment.”

Mamm harrumphed. “A boy wants a girl who can cook and give him babies, not one who doesn't have any skills.”

Dawdi placed a comfortable arm around Cassie's shoulder. “When I married Annie, I didn't care if she could cook or sew. Good enough for me that she was the prettiest girl I'd ever laid eyes on.”

“Now, Felty,” Mammi said.

“It was extra gute that she was also feisty and smart and stubborn. I feel like God favored me over every other boy in town.”

Mammi giggled. “Now, Felty.”

Mamm finally got around to filling Cassie's bowl with stew. “You're my daughter. You about broke my heart when I heard you were staying with my parents instead of with me. You don't even have the decency to come home. What have I done to deserve such an ungrateful child?”

For the sake of keeping the peace, Cassie remained silent. If Mamm didn't already know the answer to her own question, Cassie wouldn't enlighten her.

Mammi skewered some green beans onto her plate. “She's going to be here at least three months to help me out after my surgery and to study for the G test.”

“The G test?” Luke said, trying to show interest and look disinterested at the same time.

“It's the GRE test. I want to work for a year, go to graduate school, and be a museum curator someday.” It sounded so important. So lonely. Was it strange that Cassie had left the Amish way of life but longed for some of its joys, like marriage and motherhood? Her school friends were positively horrified when she had told them she wanted six or seven kids.

Mamm set the lid back on the Dutch oven. “More naked pictures, that's all.”

“There's a benefit haystack supper in two weeks at the old warehouse,” Luke said. “You should come. Everyone would love to see you again.”

Not really.

Mamm wagged her spoon in Cassie's direction. “But don't come in Englisch clothes. You'll embarrass the family.”

“Now, Esther,” Mammi said. “Cassie hasn't embarrassed the family yet. Menno Zook poked himself in the face with a ruler and got a black eye. Perry Bontrager left his shoes in the stove to dry and ended up cooking them.
That's
embarrassing.”

Norman raised his head and glanced at Mamm. “Elmer Lee will be there. He's selling a pair of plows.”

Cassie nearly choked on a potato. It seemed that every conversation with her family somehow got around to Elmer Lee Kanagy, the boy most likely to lure Cassie back to the fold.

A year before Cassie had left home, immovable, dependable Elmer Lee had started coming around, paying her weekly visits, taking her on buggy rides, driving her home from gatherings. She had liked him for his quiet, steady manner, but even at seventeen, Cassie had felt herself being called in a different direction. She could never have been the ordinary Amish girl Elmer Lee wanted. She warned him six months before she actually went away, but he hadn't stopped coming around until the day she left for good.

Mamm smiled for the first time since she'd set foot in Mammi's house. “He's not married yet, Cassie, and he's got his own farm.”

“And tall,” Norman added. “I'll bet he's grown four inches in the last eight years.”

Cassie took a long drink of water. “I'm glad. Eight years ago, he was only five and a half feet.”

“Some boys are late bloomers,” Mammi said.

“He bloomed mighty gute,” Mamm said.

Cassie gave her mamm a smile because that was what was expected. “I'll come to the benefit supper,” she said. “But Elmer Lee has certainly lost interest.” Mamm didn't need to know that Cassie had absolutely no interest in Elmer Lee whether he had lost interest or not. If she'd been interested, she wouldn't have left years ago. Let Mamm scheme all she wanted. How hard would it be to fend off Elmer Lee and any other Amish boy Mamm wanted to foist on her?

Mamm acted like a balloon ready to pop. “What's his favorite color? Does anyone know his favorite color?”

Cassie put her head down and pretended to concentrate on buttering her bread. She'd hold her head high, go to that benefit supper, and come home without a boyfriend, and Mamm wouldn't be around to nag her about it. It was why she'd chosen to stay with Mammi and Dawdi. She could retreat to the safety of their home without the fear of having any unwanted boys pushed on her. Mammi and Dawdi wouldn't dream of trying to match her with some unsuspecting Amish boy. They understood her better than that.

Thank goodness for her grandparents.

She was safe.

Chapter Three

Zach Reynolds pulled into one of the reserved parking spots at the hospital, slid the new beanie onto his head, and wrapped the bright red scarf around his neck before jumping out of the car. Living in Wisconsin was a daily reminder of why he liked California so much. The traffic might have been horrible, the property values inflated, and the crowds suffocating, but the weather felt like being in paradise 365 days a year. So far, this Wisconsin winter wasn't nearly as severe as a January in Chicago, but compared to California, Shawano seemed positively frigid.

“Good morning, Dr. Reynolds.”

Stacey, one of the nurses at the hospital, strutted past him on the way to her car. Zach smiled to himself. He loved being called “doctor.” He'd waited for the title all his life, and now he deserved it. His dad would have been so proud.

Stacey slowed and trained her eyes on him, letting her hips sway in a wide arc as she passed. No doubt she did the hip thing for his benefit. If she had attempted that much swing in the hospital, she would have knocked over every cart, IV stand, and orderly unfortunate enough to be standing in her path.

“Hey, Stacey. Just get off?”

“No more night shifts this week. I'll be sitting at home bored out of my mind if you want some company.”

Zach merely flashed a smile and looked away as if he had somewhere very important he needed to be—which he did. Stacey was cute, a little forward, but cute. He just didn't want to expend all that emotional energy on her.

He knew what his mother would say.
Zach, you've got to save yourself for that one special girl.
He shook his head. If only she knew. He was already beyond saving, in more ways than one. College could do that to a guy. What fraternity ever encouraged something as old-fashioned as morals?

He still occasionally heard his pastor's voice in his head whenever he contemplated doing something sinful. Sometimes, even now, his upbringing and what he used to believe got in the way of his life.

Even with Anna Helmuth's beanie pulled tightly over his ears, he heard soft crying coming from somewhere behind him. Following the direction of the sound around the corner of the building, he discovered a little girl standing alone on the sidewalk that ran alongside the busy street behind the hospital. She couldn't have been more than four or five years old. The tears trickled down her face, and she shivered violently with cold. A black scarf covered her head, and her chestnut hair was gathered into a bun at the base of her neck. She wore a thin black coat over a pastel yellow dress with long black socks and black tennis shoes. She must have been Amish. Normal kids didn't dress like that.

The minute she caught sight of Zach, she began wailing in earnest. He was, after all, a stranger, a male, and a terrifying giant to someone so small. “It's okay. It's okay,” he said in the most calming voice he could muster.

Her screaming dropped a few decibels in volume. She still cried, but at least she hadn't turned from him and bolted into the street. He'd hate to have to push her out of the way of a speeding bus. He'd rather not be run over this early in the morning.

He took three steps toward her. “I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to help. Are you lost?”

She didn't answer, so he took a few more tentative steps. He didn't want to terrify the poor thing. She was certainly frightened out of her wits already. Getting close enough to kneel next to her, he took the scarf from his neck and wrapped it around her shoulders. It was thick and extra long and would lend her a little warmth until he could coax her inside. He immediately felt icy dampness from the sidewalk seep through his pant leg. Since the recent snow, the sidewalks had been shoveled and salted but they were still wet. He'd have a nice damp spot on his knee for the rest of the morning.

“Are you lost?” he asked again. “It's cold out here.” He held out his hand. “Do you want to come inside? I'll help you find your mommy.”

Zach didn't know what he said, but the girl's uncontrollable sobbing began again in earnest. He considered picking her up and carrying her into the hospital, but he'd probably be accused of kidnapping and sentenced to five years in prison.

“It's okay. It's okay. I just want to help. Let's go inside and find your family. What's your name?”

Her distress reached frequencies that only dogs would have been able to hear. It seemed there was no reasoning with her, which Zach hadn't really expected from a young child, but he felt at a complete loss for what to do next.

“Can I help?”

Zach turned to see a cute blonde coming toward him.

No, not cute. Stacey was cute. Smurfs were cute. This woman was a beauty. She seemed to glide across the parking lot, every movement a graceful dance. The very air around her seemed to shimmer.

Zach rubbed a hand across his eyes. He must be working too hard. The lack of sleep had made him a little stupid.

He looked again. Okay, no shimmering air. Just a woman. A woman who carried herself like a queen.

No, that wasn't exactly right either. Queens tended to be divas. Zach had dated enough of them to know that this woman was no diva.

More like an angel.

She seemed familiar to him, but he couldn't place where he'd seen her before. Probably in his dreams.

Her wavy yellow hair fell just below her chin and framed her face like a halo. Her eyes were the color of the ocean at sunrise. And those lips. Zach's mouth twitched just imagining what it would be like to kiss her.

Yep. An angel.

He sincerely hoped angels gave out their phone numbers.

She wore a puffy white coat with blue jeans tucked into her chocolate brown leather boots. Thin and on the tall side, she wore a Christmas-red knitted scarf around her neck—an almost perfect match to the one Anna Helmuth had given him.

He would have stood up and flashed his best smile at her—in cases like these he should pull out all his best weapons—but he didn't want to turn his back on the little girl and risk her running away. It was that aversion to getting mowed down by a bus again.

He stayed on one knee and turned his face slightly in the angel's direction. “I think she's lost, but she won't tell me her name, and I can't get her to come inside. I don't want to frighten her, but it's pretty cold out here.”

The angel squatted next to the little girl and laid her hands on the girl's shoulders.
“Vas iss vi nawma?”
Zach had no idea what she said, but the little girl quieted down immediately.

“Rose Sue,” she said.

“Bish du ferlora?”
said the angel.

“Ich con net my mamm finna,”
the girl said.

No wonder he hadn't been able to get anywhere. How was he supposed to know the child spoke Amish? The angel spoke Amish too. An angel with an attractive foreign accent.

Angel pulled a Kleenex from her coat pocket, held it to the girl's nose, and instructed her to blow. She said it in Amish language, but the meaning was clear enough.

Angel fingered Zach's scarf still draped around the little girl's shoulders. The girl said something else in Amish and pointed to Zach. His heart pounded in his chest as the angel finally turned her crystal blue eyes to him. He fully expected a dazzling smile of gratitude for giving the little girl his scarf. It
had
been a pretty nice thing to do.

Instead, the angel did a double take, as if noticing him for the first time. Her eyes narrowed, the air around her stopped shimmering, and a shadow darkened her expression.

He ignored her suddenly cold demeanor. Her reaction certainly couldn't be because of him. He'd never met a woman who wasn't immediately charmed by his good looks and slightly crooked nose. “I wanted to keep her warm,” he said, just in case she needed some encouragement to like him.

“Oh,” she said, which considering the color that crept up her face was probably the most coherent thing she could think of.

What had he done? He'd only said about four words to her. He certainly couldn't have offended her that quickly, could he? Maybe she didn't like his nose.

The angel lowered her eyes and pulled the scarf tighter around the little girl's shoulders. Standing up, she said something else to the girl in Amish and took her hand.

He had to drive that shadow from the angel's face. “I hope I didn't frighten her. I just wanted to help.”

Angel seemed to recover slightly from whatever shock she took from seeing him and sprouted a weak smile. “It was good of you to stop. She might have wandered into the road.”

“Can I help you find her mother?”

Her smile grew in strength, as if she'd decided to overlook whatever deformity he had. “You are very kind, but I don't think it will be too much trouble locating them. They're probably just inside at the clinic. A lot of Amish come to the clinic.”

Her temperature seemed to be hovering just above freezing. Could he coax her to thaw even more? He stuck out his hand for a handshake when he really wanted to kiss her. Even though she was a complete stranger. Even though she might not like crooked noses. “I'm Zach.”

She avoided his eyes. “And I should get Rose inside. Her mother is probably worried sick.”

“So,” he said, playfully cocking an eyebrow, “you don't want to tell me your name.”

“You're a complete stranger.”

“Not a complete stranger. You know my name.”

“That's not a good enough reason to tell you my name.”

“I know a lot about you. You own a white coat and brown boots. You do not paint your nails, and we have scarves that are eerily similar to each other. And”—he held up his hand to stop her from protesting—“you speak Amish.”

She bowed her head as a smile crept onto her lips. “You haven't been in town very long, have you?”

“I got here in July. I'm doing rotations at the hospital.”

The fact that he did rotations at the hospital didn't seem to impress her in the least. “The language is called Pennsylvania Dutch, or
Deitsch
, if you actually speak it. It's a distant cousin of German. Most of the Amish can trace their roots back to Germany. They fled to America to avoid religious persecution.”

One side of Zach's mouth curled upward. “So if I call the language ‘Amish,' I'll broadcast my complete ignorance and lose all credibility.”

“Pretty much.” She spoke with a barely discernible accent. Zach found it irresistible.

Who was this girl and would she give her phone number to a guy with a crooked nose?

Without another word, she gathered the little Amish girl into her arms and trudged toward the front of the building. He couldn't let her get away that easily.

“Do you live in Shawano?” he asked, having no problem keeping up with her as she made a beeline for the main doors.

She didn't even break her stride. “No. I'm visiting family.”

Zach's throat dried up as he considered a horrible possibility. She spoke Amish . . . er . . . Deitsch. Maybe she
was
Amish. He'd heard that Amish teenagers got to go out into the real world before they joined the Amish church. They wore normal clothes and did normal things. Maybe his angel was one of those. She was definitely past her teens, but maybe she'd been sowing her wild oats for longer than usual.

“Family? Are you from here?”

“Yes. Originally.”

He almost dreaded the answer he'd get to his next question. “Are you Amish? I know you don't dress Amish, but are you going through that Rumpelstiltskin thing the Amish teenagers do?”

She stopped in her tracks, stared at him with those amazing blue eyes, and seemed to smile in spite of herself. He'd made her smile. Best day ever. “Do you mean
Rumschpringe
?”

“That's it,” he said, returning her smile with a devil-may-care grin.

“I suggest you brush up on Amish culture, Dr. Reynolds, or you're going to alienate half the population of Bonduel and Shawano.”

Dr. Reynolds? Had he told her his last name?

An Amish woman rushed out of the main doors of the hospital. “Rose Sue,” she squealed when she caught sight of the girl in Angel's arms.

The little girl threw out her hands. “Mama!”

The girl's mother took her from Angel and held her as if she would never let go. She rocked back and forth, whispering unintelligible words of comfort into the little girl's ear as the girl sniffled into the crook of her neck.

With relief evident on her face, the Amish woman looked from Zach to the nameless angel and back again. “Thank you. I turned my back, and she disappeared.”

“The doctor found her wandering by the road.”

A spark of recognition ignited in the Amish woman's eyes as she looked at Zach's angel. “Cassie?”

The angel nodded while Zach secretly rejoiced. A name. He had a name.

“I hardly recognized you with your hair like that,” said the Amish woman. “How long has it been?”

“At least six years since we've seen each other.”

The woman clicked her tongue. “
Ach, du lieva
, Cassie. You shouldn't stay away so long. It breaks your mamm's heart.”

Cassie the angel turned as white as a lab coat. Zach felt sorry for her, but didn't quite know how to fill the silence that overtook them.

After a few awkward moments, the Amish woman seemed to remember her reason for being there. “I should take Rose Sue inside. We have an appointment.” She looked relieved that she had an excuse to be somewhere else. “It was gute to see you again, Cassie. Tell your mamm I will have the quilt squares finished by Monday. And
denki
again for finding Rose Sue.”