Several heads turned.
“Shush,” I said. “Keep your voice down if you speak to me in public.”
“But Dat keeps asking for you. I promise I’ll take you home when you want to go. And no more ice cream runs.”
“Won’t Brandy mind?”
“No worries there.” He took my hand right out in public, in front of all those people, but I pulled it away.
“Sometimes I say and do the stupidest things.” Jake repositioned his baseball cap. “Although I’m afraid the father of her child will track her down. Or maybe he’s glad to be rid of her. My mamm says she can stay with us, but I told her I’d have to make sure you don’t mind.”
“Why would I mind?” No need for him to answer. I’d been judgmental, what I’d accused others of. “Your mamm is generous to offer her a safe haven.”
“Well?” Jake said. “May I take you to visit my dat later? I parked the car a block away.” He tilted his head. “I’ll come by and walk you to it.”
“Keeping up this charade is ridiculous. Everyone knows about your borrowed car and that you and I have spent time alone together.”
“In that case, I’ll drive by to fetch you.”
The backhoes quieted, and the drivers jumped out. Dozens of men set down shovels and rakes, removed their gloves, and spoke as brothers. The tide of workers formed two lines at the food tables. I moved to help the women serve them.
As Mamm and I poured coffee into Styrofoam cups and offered bottled water donated by a local grocery store, the men mounded their plates with food, accepted bowls of soup and stew, and then plopped down on benches, fold-up chairs, or the ground—upon grassy spots not water soaked.
Stephen waited in the line farthest away from me, making me wonder if he now regretted saying he was falling in love with me after seeing me with Jake.
Bishop Harvey came through the line last.
As the men polished off pies, cookies, and cakes, I thought of Olivia’s marvelous desserts and missed my friend. I followed the women into the house to help clean. The sink was chock-full of crusty pots and pans, which I scrubbed as another woman about my age dried. The air was melodious with female chatter and merriment. Even Hannah engaged in cheerful conversation, saying she was grateful their barn had been built so far away from the house. Twice their home had gone unscathed.
She meandered around the kitchen and made sure everyone had been introduced. “Thank you very much,” she told each individual. I wondered if all these women were aware of my connection with the fire. If so, they kept poker faces and treated me warmly. “Hope ta see ya at church on Sunday,” one said to me as she prepared to leave.
“We’ll be holding it in my house,” another chimed in.
“I might keep attending in my parents’ district,” I said. Thankfully, neither woman asked if I was baptized yet. I needed to make new friends. I thought of Olivia once more, and a river of sadness sluiced through my chest. I might never see my cousin—my only confidant—again. I silently prayed for her safety, that the man she loved would treat her like the splendid young woman she was. But I knew men could be fickle. I wondered if they’d gotten married, but maybe he’d taken advantage of her innocence. Or had that time long ago passed by?
After four hours, we were again serving the hardworking men a light supper. They scarfed up the sandwiches Beatrice had assembled, and canned fruit and applesauce, followed by cookies and fruit-filled tarts.
The uniformed fire chief cruised by the barn for another inspection. After meticulous scrutiny, he pronounced the barn’s floor still sound enough to build on. Finding all in order, he moseyed over to the food tables, chomped into a sandwich, and then chatted with the men, comparing various barn fires over the years.
As the azure-blue sky faded, Mamm and Dat gathered with their neighbors to board a hired passenger van. I ran over to say goodbye.
When I returned to Hannah’s kitchen ten minutes later, most of the women had gone home to look after their children and prepare more food for the next day.
Our soup vat sat empty—a good sign. Beatrice would be pleased. I told Hannah I’d take it to the café to be cleaned. I needed to make a sweep through the café anyway to make sure all was prepared for the morning.
I tried to leave unobserved, but to no avail. News of the barn fire had traveled across the county and brought motorists and buggies to this seldom-used road. My arms wrapped around the vat, I initiated my crossing, but a car stopped in my path. I tried to walk behind it, but it backed up, and then rolled forward again. I was about to ask one of the men for assistance, when Olivia popped her head up. “Yoo-hoo!” She giggled like a teenager through the opened window.
Attempting to see who sat behind the steering wheel, I lowered my head. But the man angled his face away from me and raced away until the the car was out of sight.
THIRTY-SIX
Psst. Evie.” I recognized Jake’s voice as I returned to the cabin after scrubbing out the soup vat in the café’s kitchen.
Jake hustled around me to the front door and blocked my way. “Hey, did you forget about me?”
As if I could. “I don’t want to be seen leaving with an Englisch man, not after meeting those nice women at Hannah’s. And Bishop Harvey’s still here. Surely he’d see.” Not to mention Stephen. Ach, he and I could never be wed. Although I was yet to be baptized so I wouldn’t be shunned from the church…
“I could offer Harvey a ride home,” Jake said.
“Please don’t.”
“Why not? Today I didn’t see his buggy—an easy one to recognize. Someone
