Читать книгу Restless Hearts - Marta Perry - Страница 11

Twenty-four hours had passed since that difficult confrontation with Ted, and Fiona still hadn’t shaken off the feelings it had brought on. She dried the few dishes that sat in the dish drainer, glancing out the kitchen window as she did so.

It was dusk already. Yellow light glowed from the windows of the few houses behind hers, partially obscured by the trees, looking distant and lonely. If she’d been looking for privacy when she came here, she’d certainly found it.

In more ways than one, it seemed. The carpenters hadn’t turned up again today, and when she’d gone to the store to speak to Ruth about it, she found that the quilters were missing as well.

Ruth had been sympathetic, but her only advice had been to be patient. Sooner or later, the situation would resolve itself. Until then, there was no point in pressing.

She could admire the older woman’s patience, but not emulate it. The need to get on with things drove her to pace across the kitchen and back again.

Lord, I don’t know what to do. Was Ted right about me? Did I really come here because I wanted to be accepted by my mother’s family? If so, it looks as if Your answer to that is no. Please, guide me now.

She blinked back unaccustomed tears, appalled at herself. There was little point in crying over something that had been over and done with before she was born. She couldn’t influence it now.

“And we know that in all things, God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose.”

The verse from Romans had always resonated in her heart, but how did she even know that God had called her here? She’d told herself she was following God’s leading for her life when she’d made the decision, but if Ted was right about her, maybe she’d only been following her own unconscious desires.

She hung the dish towel on the wooden rack, aligning it as neatly as if that were the most important thing in the world right now. Well, maybe not important, but at least it was something she could control, unlike everything else that had happened lately.

A noise from the unpaved drive that ran behind the house startled her, sending her pulse beating a little more rapidly. Someone was there, but she didn’t expect anyone. She went quickly to the door, pulling aside the lace curtain that screened the glass panel so she could peer out.

If a UFO had landed, she couldn’t have been more surprised. An Amish buggy had pulled up next to the back step. The horse dropped its head to nibble at the sparse grass. A slim girl in a black cape slid down, turning to say something to the person who held the reins. In a moment he was down, too, and both of them headed toward the door.

They stepped into the pool of light from the lamp above the door. Young, both of them, probably not more than sixteen. She’d never seen either of them before.

She took a breath. If the Amish community intended to tell her to leave, they certainly wouldn’t send two teenagers. She opened the door.

“Hello. I’m Fiona Flanagan. Are you looking for me?”

“Yes, we come to see you.” The girl, who apparently was the spokesperson, gave a short nod, her dark bonnet bobbing. She had a pretty, heart-shaped face, a pert, turned-up nose and a pair of lively blue eyes. “I am Rachel Stolzfus. We are cousins.”

“Cousins?” For a moment she could only gape at the girl, and then she stepped back, holding the door wide. “Please, come in. I’m sorry, did you say you are my cousin?”

“Cousin, yes.” The girl, Rachel, came in and then spun toward her, her black cape swinging out. “This is my friend Jonah Felder.”

The boy nodded, flushed to the tips of his ears. He entered, but stood just inside the door, as if ready to bolt back out in an instant.

“I’m happy to meet both of you.” And more than a little puzzled. “Won’t you sit down?” She gestured toward the straight-backed kitchen chairs. “I’m afraid the rest of the house isn’t ready for visitors.”

Rachel shook her head at the offer of seats. “We cannot stay long. We are on our way home from visiting Jonah’s parents.”

She took off her bonnet, though, revealing corn-silk blond hair parted in the center and pulled back into a knot that was covered by a prayer cap.

“But I had to stop and see my new cousin.” Her eyes sparkled. “I wanted to be the first, except for Aunt Emma and my grandmother.”

Something tightened inside Fiona at that. Her grandmother hadn’t even wanted to look at her, much less speak to her. Still, that wasn’t Rachel’s fault.

“I’m glad you did, but I wouldn’t want you to get into any trouble.”

“No one will guess that we stopped here.” She darted a glance toward Jonah, as if commanding his silence. Her black cape swung open, revealing the deep rose of the dress she wore beneath.

Fiona’s heart clenched. “Your dress is the same shade as the rose in my quilt pieces.”

Rachel brushed the full skirt with her hand. “Maybe my aunt Hannah had a dress like this. It’s only after joining the church that women wear the dark colors. When a garment has no further use, it is cut up for quilting.”

“I see.” She did see, in a way. A picture of the mother she’d never known was beginning to form in her mind—a smiling girl whose rose dress brought out the roses in her cheeks. “Tell me, how are we related?”

“My father, Daniel, was younger brother to your mother, Hannah.” Rachel beamed. “We are cousins. So you see, it is right for me to call on you.”

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.