Two more flatbed trucks arrived to haul off rubble. Their tires sank into the muddy slush, but the vehicles didn’t slow until they’d reached a hard surface.
Dozens more Amish and Englisch men, some wearing tool belts, appeared and seemed eager to join the cleanup project. The trucks’ rumbling engines and the men’s chatter drowned out Bill’s tirade. Stephen slipped his hand under my elbow and steered me toward the nursery. The dogs kept their gazes fixed on Bill as they trailed Stephen.
“Let’s get back to make sure everything’s running as it should be.” He kept a tight grip on the dogs’ leashes.
I caught Mamm’s attention and waved goodbye, assuming she and Dat would realize I had to get back to the café. I planned to introduce myself to the Schmuckers later—if they’d speak to me once they found out my involvement with the fire.
Stephen allowed the dogs to pull on their leashes. “We may be swamped with business with all these cars. The drivers might wander into the café with empty stomachs and demand a meal. We’ll probably have a bare-bones staff if most of the men at the nursery want to help build the new barn. I’ll pay them their usual salary.”
“Did Beatrice mention what kind of soup she’s making today?”
“No, but I bet it’s another one of her mother’s favorite recipes from the old country.” He slowed his pace. “I’m glad you two get along. At first, I was concerned. She can be a bit stubborn.”
“Yah, me too. But she and I have become friends.” I hoped. When the Yoders returned, Beatrice might have nothing to do with me. She’d be too busy taking care of their little girl to help out in the café.
I felt anxious about meeting Glenn, my real boss, the man with the final say as to whether I’d remain here. And his wife, Rose. Wives could influence their husbands. For better or for worse.
THIRTY-FOUR
Stephen was right about the café’s business being brisk. I was grateful for Beatrice’s help. She prepared three kinds of soup, both in expectation of a large crowd and to share later with the workers across the street.
“No sign of Mark,” Sadie said. “He must be helping with the barn raising, assuming they were able to get started.”
Later that morning, Wayne slogged in, his eyes puffy. I breezed over to him with a mug of coffee. “Have you been up all night?”
“No. My wife insisted I come home and sleep a few hours and at least have some breakfast.” His hand reached out. “But I’ll take that coffee. Thanks.”
“On the house. Anything new happening over at the barn?”
“Yeah. The arson inspector finished his work.”
“Any sign of Ralph?”
“Nope. So far, no human remains, cremated or otherwise. An officer went to Bill’s house to let him know. I hope he contacts us if Ralph shows up.”
I sank into a chair with relief, but I had no idea how Ralph got out of that burning loft. “Could the inspectors have been mistaken?”
“Between you and me, I wondered the same thing. But it’s unlikely.”
“Anything else you can tell me?”
“Men are contemplating whether to replace the barn’s foundation. The concrete isn’t that old, and it may be salvageable. Not that I know much about barn building. Bishop Harvey is the expert. He, along with several other men with experience, will decide.”
He flattened his palms together. “Say, mind if I give you some advice? If you see Ralph’s brother, Bill, again, steer clear of him. A family of hotheads. I told Bill two days ago I suspected coyotes were responsible for killing his lambs, but he wouldn’t believe me. He still kept blaming the Yoders’ Lab. I warned him he should bring his sheep in at night and advised him to buy himself a herding dog to protect his flock, but he paid no heed.”
He scanned the area, I assumed to make sure no one was listening in. “About the unpleasant dent in my squad car—I didn’t press charges against you. Jake paid for the damages, and what prosecutor in the county would take you to court?”
“Jake paid?” How sweet. Why hadn’t he told me so I could thank him?
“Stephen offered to pay too, but Jake beat him to it. That’s a first. Two men offering to pay for a dent neither made.” He stroked his chin. “You certainly are a popular girl.”
“Ach, no I’m not.”
“Could have fooled me.” He swallowed his remaining coffee, handed me his empty cup, and left.
I told Sadie and Beatrice the good news about Ralph.
An hour later a late-teen Englisch girl strolled into the café carrying a job application. She found me and said, “Are you Eva Lapp? Stephen Troyer sent me to speak to you.”
She placed the application in my hands. As I scanned it, I pondered how much handwriting said about a person. Hers was precisely neat, and her cursive letters were even. Annie Romano wore a dress made from a small floral-patterned fabric, making me think she was Mennonite. But she had no head covering and an Italian last name. I assumed she attended Stephen’s church, which could be liberal as far as dress. According to her application, she’d worked at three fast-food places in the past. At the bottom, Stephen had written, You have my approval to hire Annie if you like her.
“When can you start?” I asked, thinking how much I wanted to zip out the door and check on the barn’s demise. And to see if Jake was still there. I hated that I cared so much, but I couldn’t shake my curiosity.
“Anytime.” Annie’s short, curly brown hair framed her face. “I’d be thrilled to spend the day in such a cool café.” She surveyed the case full of food and then watched the koi swimming in graceful arcs in the pond for a
