“You call arson mere bad behavior?”
I leaned closer, against her arm, and spoke in her ear. “He and his Englisch friends didn’t burn down that barn.”
“How do you know? Because he told you?”
I still wasn’t a hundred percent sure of anything. “I suppose they could have by mistake, but an upstanding man who was there that night told me otherwise. The barn’s owner has long ago forgiven the arsonist, if there was one. And his new barn is twice as nice.”
“You know, Eva, you’ve always been gullible. Even as a child.”
Not the supportive words I’d hoped to hear. “I suppose you’re right, Mamm. I do try to see the best in people.” Not a true statement when it came to Beatrice and my sister-in-law, Marta. I needed to improve my attitude.
An Englisch couple sat down at the next table, each carrying a mug of coffee.
“This café isn’t the best place for a private conversation.” I wanted to change the subject. “When I stop by for a visit, we’ll finish it.” I stood. “Want some freshly brewed kaffi?”
“Yah, that would be nice. Denki.”
I brought her coffee and a small pitcher of half-and-half. “I’ll scramble up some fresh eggs if you like. The owners have several fine hens.”
“Denki, but I already ate.”
“Do you want to see my cabin?”
“Maybe next time. I stopped by there on the way here, so I’ve seen the outside. A woman named Beatrice gave me directions to the café.”
“And an earful?” I heard annoyance in my voice.
“She was very pleasant. Do you have a problem with her?”
“Yes and no. The problem is most likely in my head. She’s been helpful in her own way.”
“Yah, she told me she was teaching you how to cook, something I should have done better.”
“I just never enjoyed cooking as much as gardening and helping Dat in the barn. But I learned enough from you to read recipes and work in here.”
“I must not have been much of a mother, or you wouldn’t have strayed from the flock.”
“That’s not true. You were a fantastic mother. And I’m still living Amish.”
Tension gathered at the corners of her eyes. “But not a church member.”
“Didn’t we talk about this before I left home? I thought you said this job was ideal.”
“Yah, I thought you’d be working in the nursery with plants. But you seem to be doing fine here in the café.” She stirred sugar and cream into her coffee until it was the color of milk chocolate.
“Mamm, are you okay?” I sat down again and appraised her haggard features.
“Just a little tired. Getting used to the changes at home. Nothing worth mentioning. Retirement is what your dat has wanted for years. And I have less housework, for sure.”
I recalled Mamm’s diligent cleaning and food preparation. Not to mention her canning and meticulous quilting. She took great satisfaction in those activities.
“How are you getting along with Marta?”
“Fine as can be expected.”
“I thought you and Dat were thrilled when she married Reuben.” I’d never seen Mamm so pleased, making me feel like a failure for still being single.
“We were.” Mamm added more sugar to her coffee. “She and I have different ways of doing things, is all, which is to be expected. I try not to give her too much advice, but, apparently, I do.”
“But aren’t you glad to have your grandchildren living under the same roof?”
“Of course. But Marta seems too strict.” She covered her mouth for a moment. “Ach, I shouldn’t have said anything. Your dat and I probably weren’t strict enough. We looked the other way and spared the rod too often.”
“And spoiled the child?” Meaning me.
“No use rehashing the past, Evie. You’re a fine young woman, and I’m proud of you.” She gulped a mouthful of coffee.
“Mamm, are you sure everything else is all right?”
“For the most part, yah.” She swiveled in her chair to face me, as if shutting out the rest of the world. “If you talked to Jake, then you probably know he’s working his dat’s fields until Amos gets better. If he ever does. Ach, Eva, I wonder if he will. Anyway, Jake is Englisch now. You’d best stay away from him.”
“But Jake asked me to visit his dat, and I’ve decided to go on Sunday.”
“Why on earth?”
Attempting to delay describing my guilty encounter, I took her half-empty mug to the carafe, refilled it, and then lowered myself next to her. “Like you and Jake both told me, Amos keeps asking for me.”
“Sounds like a trick.” Mamm stirred more sugar into her coffee, clanking the spoon against the mug. “Maybe you should have a deacon and a minister accompany you.”
“That might frighten Amos, don’t ya think?”
“Now, why would he be afraid? And how are you planning to get to their house—and ours too?”
“I have permission to use the nursery owner’s buggy.”
“It’s a long drive.”
“I was told the mare needs the exercise. I took her out yesterday, and it worked great. I enjoyed driving the buggy.”
“But the traffic.” She wrung her hands.
“I’ll be extra careful and stay off the busy roads.”
“I still say it’s a bad idea.” She shook her head. “No gut can come from it. None.”
EIGHTEEN
On my afternoon break I decided to stroll back to my cabin. A mirror hung by the café’s back door, but some would consider my checking my kapp a sign of vanity. Because it was.
I headed out the café’s door and almost walked into Stephen.
“Have you seen Heath?” he asked, falling in step next to me. “He’s missing again.”
“No, I haven’t seen him today.”
“Wayne called to report two more lambs were killed at Bill Hastings’s farm. Doesn’t look good. If they spot Heath, they’ll pick him up. Or worse.” He advanced toward the big house, his stride purposeful. We slowed to allow Englisch customers to pass us from the other direction, and then we continued.
“Early this morning Heath begged to go out,” he said. “When Beatrice called him minutes later and announced it was
