Читать книгу Second Chance Amish Bride - Marta Perry - Страница 13

Chapter Four

Following the noise late Friday morning, Caleb rolled himself into the kitchen. It had turned into a beehive of activity since breakfast, with racks of cookies cooling while Jessie pushed another pan into the oven. Both Timothy and Becky were intent upon baking projects, Timothy with a dish towel tied around him like an apron. Young Thomas leaned against the counter, seeming right at home with a handful of snickerdoodles.

“What’s going on?”

His voice brought all the activity to a halt for an instant. Thomas straightened up, flushing and trying to look as if he didn’t have his mouth full of cookies.

Jessie straightened, as well, closing the oven door. She was flushed and smiling, and with her eyes sparkling, she didn’t look as plain as he’d thought. “We’re baking for the barn raising tomorrow. All those workers need plenty of fuel.”

“Look, Daadi.” Timothy waved a fistful of dough in the air. “I’m making the little balls, see? When Cousin Jessie bakes them, they’ll be snickerdoodles.”

Caleb wheeled himself closer to the table. “I see. What’s Becky doing?”

“I’m rolling them in cinnamon and sugar.” Becky’s attention was grabbed by the dough Timothy had in his hand. “That’s not how to do it, Timothy. They’re supposed to be round. Let me.”

Timothy flared up instantly. “This is how I do it. You do your own.”

Becky reached out to take the dough from him, but before it could turn into a fight, Jessie was there.

“Becky, can you help me? I need these cookies moved to the cooling tray to make room for the next batch. You’re old enough to be careful not to touch the hot pan, I know.”

Distracted instantly by the thought of doing something Timothy wasn’t allowed to do, Becky abandoned the battle over the shape of Timothy’s cookies, and peace reigned.

Thomas seemed to sidle toward the door, and Caleb waved him back. “Stay and help if you want.” He pushed his chair through the doorway and out onto the back porch.

The sun’s rays warmed his face, and he inhaled the familiar aroma of the farm, overlain by the baking scent coming from the kitchen. He should have been grateful just to be home instead of fretting about all that he couldn’t do, but it was hard to be helpless.

Still, if he could manage a little more each day, he’d see progress. He just had to make up his mind to it. The sooner he was back on his feet, the sooner life would return to normal. Without Jessie’s disruptive presence.

Hands on the wheels, he rolled himself carefully down the ramp, pleased when he reached the bottom without incident. He turned toward the barn and spotted Onkel Zeb and his brother coming toward him.

“You’re out and rolling!” Daniel exclaimed. “Gut work.” He grabbed Caleb’s shoulder, his face creasing in pleasure.

Maybe Daniel’s pleasure was mixed with relief. If the past weeks had been hard on Caleb, they’d been hard on everyone else, too.

“I had to get out,” Caleb said. “If you wander into the kitchen, you might get sucked into helping with all the baking that’s going on for tomorrow.”

“That doesn’t scare me off.” Daniel headed for the steps. “I’ll talk Jessie into a bag of cookies to take to the shop with me.” He waved in the direction of his carpentry shop, located in its own building about twenty yards beyond the barn.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He turned his attention to his uncle. “Thomas is in there, but he looks like he’s doing more eating than helping.”

Onkel Zeb shook his head. “I don’t know where that boy puts it all. He’s as skinny as a rake, and he eats all the time.” He put his hand on the chair handle. “Headed for the barn?”

“Seems like a gut jaunt. The doctor said to keep busy.”

“He probably also said to be careful not to overdo.” Zeb moved as if to push the chair toward the barn.

Caleb tried to turn the wheels on his own, but it was a lot harder than he’d expected on the gravel lane. He gritted his teeth and put more muscle into it. He’d have to try harder. Zeb grasped the handles and pushed, too.

For a moment they didn’t speak, but then Onkel Zeb cleared his throat. “Seems like you decided Cousin Jessie can stay.”

“For a while,” Caleb said quickly. He didn’t want any misunderstanding on that score. “Just until I get back on my feet.”

“What made you change your mind?”

He couldn’t see his uncle’s face since he was pushing the chair, but he should have known Zeb would want an explanation. And he didn’t have one, not really.

“I got to thinking about what you said. About her being kin to the young ones.” He hesitated, remembering how he’d felt when Jessie had interceded to braid Becky’s hair and then stepped back to let him take the credit. “I have to admit, she seems to care about them.”

“She must, giving up her business to komm all the way from Ohio to help, ain’t so?”

Caleb blinked. “Business? What business? I thought she just lived with her brother and his wife.”

“She does. She helps out a lot there, too. But she has a business of her own, making baked goods to take to the Amish markets in a couple of towns. Way I hear it, it’s turned into quite a success.”

Caleb stopped pushing and swung to face his uncle. “How do you know all this?”

“All you have to do is talk to get to know a person.” There was a chiding tone to Zeb’s voice that made itself heard. He meant that Caleb should have done the same.

Caleb ducked away from the implied criticism. “I guess that’s why she looks like she does about all that baking she’s doing,” he muttered.

“How does she look?”

Caleb shrugged. “I don’t know. Happy, I guess.” Pretty. Not beautiful, the way Alice had been when they’d met, but appealing in her own way.

“If she’s used to baking for market, I guess she’d take a little thing like a barn raising in her stride.” Onkel Zeb frowned a little. “As for the barn raising, are you wanting to go over for it?”

Caleb’s jaw tightened, and he slapped the chair. “Not likely I can be much help, is it?” Besides, he wasn’t sure he wanted to visit the site of his injury so soon. He’d relived the accident enough times already.

But Onkel Zeb’s frown had deepened. “Sam’s been doing a lot for us while you’ve been laid up. Seems like it’s only neighborly to go over for a spell. Visit with folks, anyway. I was thinking you could use the pony cart. It’s low enough that it wouldn’t be hard to get in, and the chair could go in the back.”

When Caleb didn’t answer right away, his uncle shrugged. “Think on it, anyway.”

It wasn’t easy to hold back when Zeb gave him the look that said he’d be disappointed in Caleb if he didn’t go. So he supposed he’d be hauling himself into the pony cart tomorrow.

But as for his uncle’s other expectation—well, why should he be interested in finding out more about Jessie’s life? She’d be gone soon enough, anyway, and he wouldn’t have to think about her at all. That would suit him fine, wouldn’t it?

* * *

Jessie brought the pony cart up to the bottom of the ramp on Saturday. She’d been wryly amused at the expression on Caleb’s face when he’d realized he’d have to let her help him get to Sam and Leah’s, since Zeb and Daniel, along with Thomas, had gone as soon as they’d eaten breakfast.

She stopped the black-and-white pony so that the cart was directly in front of Caleb waiting in his wheelchair. Timothy and Becky were on either side of him, Timothy bouncing up and down in excitement.

“Here we are.” Jessie hopped out of the cart and scooted around the wheelchair. “I think it will work best if the chair is right next to the cart seat.” She moved it into position as she spoke and then set the brake.

Caleb didn’t say anything, but he looked as if he held quite a few words back. He reached out for the cart. She intercepted him.

“Better let Becky get up there first, and she can steady the cast and help lift it in. Right, Becky?”

“For sure.” She was already scrambling in, eager to help her daadi.

“Me, too.” Timothy pouted.

“We need you to hold the chair steady so it doesn’t wobble when Daadi pushes off it. You think you can?” Jessie asked.

“Sure. I’m strong.” He seized the arm of the wheelchair and planted both feet, gritting his teeth.

“I can swing myself over.” Caleb sounded for all the world like his son. He grasped the rail on the cart seat. It was lower than a buggy, but still higher than the wheelchair.

“A little extra help never hurts.” Before he could object, Jessie slid her arm around him. “Ready? Go.”

She hadn’t given him time to argue, but she felt him stiffen, probably not liking her so close.

And they were close, very much so. Caleb grasped her shoulder with his free hand, his body pressing against hers for what seemed a long moment. Fighting not to react, Jessie concentrated on lifting him. Becky grabbed the cast, and in a moment Caleb was seated in the pony cart, breathing heavily.

She was breathless, too, but not from the exertion. She hadn’t expected—well, whatever it was she’d felt when she’d held him against her.

Nothing, she told herself fiercely, and knew it wasn’t true. It seemed the feelings that had been aroused that long-ago afternoon were still there, ready to flare up. Maybe that was why her mother feared coming here would hurt her.