Kate's Song (17 page)

“Jah.”

“He’s who you were thinking about when you sang.” She tightened her hold on Kate’s arm. “No wonder that was the most moving performance of ‘Un Bel Di’ I’ve ever heard. Is he good-looking?”

Kate smiled in spite of herself. “Very good-looking. With a heart of gold.”

“And you love him.”

“Jah.”

Shannon nodded. “So God is saying, ‘Look, Kate. Here are your two clear, well-defined choices. Go for it.’”

Go for it
.

“But what does God want me to do?”

“God wants you to be happy.”

Kate thought about that for a minute. “Yes, He does.”

Shannon grinned. “Not that I’d like to see Chelsea get Juliette. She’s a prima donna, and Ryan can’t stand her.”

“Jah, they would be very happy to see each other die at the end.”

Kate and Shannon walked up the hill arm in arm, Shannon chattering merrily about the latest opera website.

Kate nodded politely when necessary but didn’t really pay attention. She sensed that she was enticingly close to an answer yet more confused than ever.

With trepidation, Kate stood on porch of the Kings’ small farmhouse. She hadn’t been inside Nathaniel’s home since she had come here for Sunday services over two years ago. And she had never associated Nathaniel with this home in which he grew up. She ran her palm along the silky-smooth porch railing sanded by a skillful carpenter’s hands and saw Nathaniel with new eyes. Though small, everything about the front yard testified to the diligence of those who lived there. The short picket fence surrounding the perimeter was painted bright white, with no flaking paint to be seen. The meticulously trimmed bushes huddled close to the petunias, thick and vibrant against the ground. How did Nathaniel and his mamm manage it all by themselves?

Kate and her sister Mary were the last of the quilters to arrive. Before they had set foot from Mary’s house, the baby had spit up all over his clean clothes and had to be stripped from head to toe and redressed before the sisters could harness the horse to the buggy and make their way to the quilting circle. Bouncing the baby on her hip, Mary opened the door for Kate, who held a basket of fabric in one arm and Sadie in the other.

Kate’s heart sank as she scanned the group. Ada sat on the far side of the quilt with Sarah Schwartz, quilting feverishly and ignoring Kate’s arrival. But they both pursed their lips and exchanged knowing glances when she entered the room.

“Kate and Mary. So good to see you,” Edna Miller said, bobbing her needle over and under the fabric stretched onto frames. Dear Edna was a welcome sight. She always took people at face value and never gossiped. “Will we see you at the rehabilitation center tomorrow, Kate?”

“Nae. We are canning tomatoes starting early. But the week after for certain.”

Several women already busily added the small, delicate stitches that Amish quilts were famous for. The quilt, a relatively simple Wild Goose Chase design, took up most of the space in the front room and dazzled Kate’s eyes with its vibrant contrasts and moving patterns.

“Cum, cum, sit down,” said Esther Yoder, scooting to make room on the bench on her side of the quilt. “As soon as this one’s done, we’ve got to finish another for the Haiti auction. And even though Ada keeps telling us how fast Sarah is, we need many hands to get done.”

“It is beautiful,” Kate said. “Who put it together?”

“Miriam, of course,” Edna said. “She’s got an eye for the colors.”

Macie Herschberger held out her arms. “Let me see the buplie, Mary. He is so chubby. Are you feeding him buttermilk?” The room tinkled with the laughter of busy women as Mary handed the baby to Macie.

In consternation, Kate noticed her heart racing unnecessarily fast. Ach, she knew why her throat dried up and her breathing got faster as she crossed the threshold of the Kings’ house, and it wasn’t because Ada seemed to take pleasure in badgering her. The powerful need to impress Nathaniel’s mother would surely render Kate incapable of doing so.

Placing the basket of fabric on the sofa, Kate clasped her hands together to keep them from shaking. It was no secret that her son’s attentions to Kate displeased Miriam. If Lisa Fisher’s overheard conversation and Kate’s trip into La Crosse hadn’t been proof enough, Ada was always ready to supply Kate with the latest gossip.

According to Ada, Miriam considered Kate an outsider, a proud and worldly girl whom Miriam’s son followed around like a puppy. Kate had heard it all, some of the rumors from Ada, some from cousin Rebecca, and the worst from Aaron, who didn’t seem to consider listening to tittle-tattle about his own sister sinful. Nathaniel would be mortified if he knew that Kate had heard the gossip, which chiefly originated from his own mamm.

Nathaniel’s mamm poked her head in from the kitchen. “Aw, Mary and her sister,” she said, without making eye contact. “Some of the children are out back if you’d like to send your little one to play, Mary. I’ll be right in. I’m just getting Hezekiah settled for a nap.”

Miriam’s scant acknowledgment of Kate confirmed Kate’s suspicions. Why had she come?

To make Nathaniel happy, that was why. But either Nathaniel was completely blind to Miriam’s dislike, or he suffered from an acute case of wishful thinking. Resisting the urge to leave the house and run clear to Milwaukee, Kate sat on the bench next to Esther and began studiously threading a needle.

Esther’s small daughter, Susie, sat under the quilt and ran her fingers along the deep blue fabric on the underside.

“Susie Lynn, you’re underfoot,” said her mother. “Go outside with Sadie and run around.”

Susie did as she was told and took Sadie by the hand, and soon Mary and Kate were free to sew without interruption.

The ladies took turns passing the baby. Eventually he landed on Beth Yoder’s lap. “I’m eighty-four years old,” she said. “The eyes are pretty near useless. Can’t see well enough to thread a needle to save my life. I come to the quilting bees to visit and hold babies.”

Kate smiled in her direction. Beth did both of her jobs well.

Soon Miriam joined the circle, and the girls and women stitched with a rapidity that would have put any sewing circle in the world to shame. And they talked at a pace that would have set any Amish husband’s head to spinning. Despite her discomfort, Kate laughed out loud several times, completely entertained by the chatter of the goodhearted women surrounding her.

“Edna,” Beth said, “Albert wasn’t at gmay last Sunday. Have you got the flu at your house?”

Edna let out a loud guffaw. “That boy! He gets himself into more scrapes.”

“I know exactly how you feel. My boys are nothing but trouble,” Ada said, sighing loudly.

“What happened to Albert?” Mary said.

Edna pulled her needle through the top of the quilt. “Disobeyed his dat by coming home late one night and walked right into a skunk in Masts’ pasture. Poor boy could hardly breathe from the stink.”

“Oh no!”

“You can be sure I did not let him set one foot in my house. I burned his clothes and made him eat and sleep outside for a week.”

Everyone laughed.

“I suppose he’ll come home when he’s told next time,” Edna said with a wink.

“My boys won’t do anything they’re told,” Ada said. “They will be the death of me.” She looked around the room for sympathy. “But then, nobody knows how I suffer.”

“Kate,” Esther said, “tell us about your school. It has been too long since we have seen you.”

“Some of us have been pining terribly for your return,” Edna teased, obviously unaware that, to at least one woman in the room, it was no joke.

“Jah, our family is grateful to have her home,” Mary said.

“Of course,” Edna said. “But I am talking about a particularly handsome boy who has never taken an interest in any other girl in the whole community.
He
seems to be very glad you are back. Isn’t that right, Miriam?” Some of the women giggled. Not everyone had heard the gossip. Others bent their heads more diligently over their needlework. Ada’s frown could have sent the livestock running for cover.

Miriam did not reply. She seemed to be concentrating very hard on untangling a knot in her thread.

Kate squirmed. Edna, without guile or pretense, thought she was bringing up a subject that would give pleasure to both Kate and Miriam. But Kate would just as soon not discuss her relationship with Nathaniel in front of these women, especially his mother. From the cast of Miriam’s complexion, she felt the same way.

Edna persisted. “My husband says that since you’ve come home, the boy hasn’t stopped whistling. And my dear Luke has no patience for whistlers.”

“I don’t know what whistling has to do with anything,” Ada said, trying to pick a fight where there wasn’t one.

“I am simply pointing out that Kate comes back and my husband cannot get a thing done at Nathaniel’s workshop because the boss is whistling all the time. I think Kate has made the boy very happy.”

Words exploded out of Miriam’s mouth. “Until September,” she said. “He’s only allowed to be happy until September when school starts. Isn’t that right, Kate?”

Ada nodded her agreement.

Kate could have heard a quilting needle hit the floor. Half the women stopped their work to look at Kate. The other half stared at Miriam. “I—I hope he is happy, that he is happy always,” Kate stammered softly. She glanced at Miriam, who returned her gaze with thinly veiled contempt.

All of a sudden, Miriam stood and tossed her thimble into the small box on top of the quilt. “Look how fast the time is moving. We’ve been working so hard that I have completely forgotten to get dinner,” she said, as if she hadn’t just silenced the room with her outburst.

“Nothing too hard,” Esther said, trying for a carefree lilt to her voice.

“Edna brought bread and cheese,” Miriam said. “I’ll cut some vegetables and we’ll be set.” She headed into the kitchen.

With more courage than she had ever before been able to muster, Kate stood. “I’ll help,” she said to no one in particular. Mary gaped at her, eyes full of alarm. Kate nodded reassuringly and marched into the kitchen.

Miriam, her back to Kate, peeled a cucumber with dizzying speed. When she heard Kate come in, she glanced over her shoulder. The peeling slowed considerably and then started up again, double time.

Kate came within an inch of turning around and slinking back into the living room, which was still eerily quiet. Instead, she squared her shoulders and steeled herself for what was to come. She had no idea what to say, but she knew Nathaniel would want her to try.

For his sake, she would try.

“If you have another peeler, I will do carrots,” Kate said.

“I don’t have another peeler. I’ve never needed another peeler.”

“Then shall I cut the cucumbers after you peel them?”

Miriam practically shoved the cucumber in Kate’s hand. “Jah, fine.”

Kate took the cucumber, retrieved a knife from the block, and started slicing. She stayed quiet long enough to formulate some kind of coherent sentence. What did Nathaniel’s mamm want to hear?

“I do not wish to hurt Nathaniel,” Kate said.

“It must be so nice to have a summertime boyfriend, glad as he can be to do anything and everything for you. My son might be taken in by your brilliant green eyes and pretty face, but I am not.”

Still hearing nothing from the adjoining room, Kate laid down the knife and put her hand lightly on Miriam’s shoulder. “Could we step outside for a moment?”

Miriam kept peeling. “I have nothing to say to you.”

“Please, Miriam.”

After what seemed like an eternity, Miriam laid her cucumber and peeler on the cupboard and tromped out the door, not bothering to see if Kate followed her. She walked past the children running wild in the backyard and made her way to a cherry tree a few hundred feet from the house. With arms tightly folded, she turned, stood, and glared as Kate caught up to her.

Struggling to emulate Nathaniel’s humility, Kate tried to see his mamm with compassion. Miriam’s only child, the one whom her life orbited around, no longer looked on Miriam as the center of his life. She had been replaced by a girl who, by all appearances, treated Nathaniel’s affection lightly, like a worn article of clothing that could be easily tossed into the laundry bin.

Suddenly Kate’s heart ached for this woman who had lost her husband so young and knew she might lose her son as well.

“Your son is deeply good,” Kate said, not shying from Miriam’s icy reception. “He is more wonderful than I deserve, I know. But he loves me. What would you have me do?”

“I want you to stay away from him.”

Kate looked down at her feet and then lifted her head to study Miriam’s face. “If God means for us to be together, the fault will be on your head if you separate us. Are you willing to live with the consequences of such a decision?”

Miriam flashed an expression of stubborn refusal. “How could the Almighty want you to be with my son?”

“Are you able to judge such things?”

Scowling, Miriam turned her face away. “Even if you stay here, you will both be miserable.”

“Why do you say that?”

Instead of answering, Miriam pulled Kate to sit next to her on two overturned boxes that were waiting to be filled with cherries. Her demeanor softened somewhat as she studied Kate’s face.

“I have never shared this with anyone, so I will thank you to keep it quiet. But Nathaniel’s happiness is at stake, so I will risk it. To make you understand.” She laced her fingers together. “I know what you struggle with, the two choices that war against each other in your head.” She cleared her throat. “I see so much of myself in you. Too much.”

“How so?”

Miriam pursed her lips, and Kate could tell she chose her words carefully. “I suppose I was a strange child. Full of woe, my pappa would say. I used to stare out the window and think, just sit and think, and try to make sense of all the thoughts that jumbled in my head like a swarm of bees. I felt the strap more than once for daydreaming. At fourteen, I begged Pappa to let me go to the Englisch school. I got the strap over and over for my wickedness, for wanting to escape the place where the Almighty had placed me.”