The Mending Page 6

  Chapter Eight

  It was a gut thing Chestnut could find his way home blindfolded in a snowstorm, since Malinda’s mind had wandered a million miles away. Actually, just a few miles. It had stayed behind at the cheese factory. What had just happened? Had she misunderstood completely, or had Timothy Brenneman, Sam’s freind, the older bu who had often been a fixture at their house, just indicated his interest in her? Not a casual interest, as in inquiring about a freind’s little schweschder. He specifically asked if she’d attend the next singing so they could talk.

  Normally the couples who spent time talking after the last song had been sung ended up leaving together. Many ended up courting. Is that what Timothy wanted—to court her? And exactly how did she feel about that? She had always thought of Timothy as Sam’s pal. Of course, he had always been nice to her, even when she was a pesky little girl. Could she think of him in a different way?

  Malinda’s brain conjured up Timothy’s image. He was nice to look at. Very nice. In fact, Timothy was very handsome. He must be well over six feet, since he stood several inches taller than Sam. He was strong. Malinda had seen him lift heavy pieces of furniture by himself when she’d visited Swarey’s Furniture Shop. But those strong arms were also gentle. She felt heat, and not heat from the afternoon sun, rise to her cheeks when she remembered how those arms had steadied her several times recently. His pale blond hair reminded her of the corn silk she liked to rub between her fingers when she shucked corn. Would Timothy’s hair feel the same between her fingers? His eyes were the bluest she’d ever seen. His furniture-making skills surpassed even Sam’s. Malinda had seen some of the fancier pieces Timothy had designed for Englisch customers. But those eyes . . .

  Ach, Malinda! Get hold of yourself ! She could not allow herself to think of a fellow in any way other than as a freind. Look how Isaac had treated her. He’d forgotten all about her the instant she left town. To be perfectly honest, she couldn’t imagine Isaac understanding her illness or helping her through a bad time. In fact, she couldn’t ever remember him coming around or even asking about her when she felt sick like Timothy always did. That should have been a warning sign, but she’d totally ignored it.

  Well, she wouldn’t let herself get hurt again. And she wouldn’t impose her weakness, her illness on anyone. That would not be fair—even if there ever was a fellow who would give her a second look once he knew the seriousness of her disease.

  Malinda sighed and sniffed back tears. Like the apostle Paul, she would have to live with her thorn and not subject others to it. Somehow she’d learn to be content with remaining single all her days. Her bruders would most likely all get married and give her plenty of little ones to dote on.

  * * *

  “Hello, Malinda. Please pass me the macaroni and cheese.” Atlee drummed his fingers on the table.

  “Huh?”

  “Kumm back to earth, Malinda,” Sam chimed in. “Atlee has asked you three times to pass the macaroni and cheese. Please give it to him before he eats mine from my plate.”

  Malinda wrinkled her nose at her older bruders and lifted the big casserole dish. “Here you go.” She thrust the bowl into Atlee’s outstretched hands.

  “Ow! It’s still hot.”

  “Grasp the handles. See, I didn’t get burned.” She turned her palms out to face Atlee.

  “That’s because you’re out in la-la land somewhere.”

  “I am not.”

  “You have seemed rather distracted, Dochder.” Rufus glanced up briefly before slathering butter on a third homemade biscuit.

  “I’m sorry, Daed.”

  “Are you feeling all right?” A worry frown creased Saloma’s forehead. Her gaze latched onto Malinda’s mostly untouched plate.

  “I’m fine, Mamm.” Immediately Malinda picked up her fork and scooped up a bite of cheesy noodles. She’d just managed to poke them into her mouth when Atlee pointed his fork at her.

  “I saw you with Timothy.”

  Although Atlee’s words were garbled by the noodles stuffed in his mouth, Malinda understood them quite well. She hoped no one else did. Maybe she could divert the conversation to some other topic. “Atlee, you act like you haven’t eaten in a month.”

  “I’m a growing bu.” He gulped down the wad of food.

  “Growing out, not up. You’ll be as big as the barn, eating like you do.”

  “Nee. I work it off just fine.” He loaded his fork again. “So what kept you and Timothy so engrossed?” Atlee elbowed Sam and chuckled before shoveling the next bite into his mouth.

  “I was picking up cheese so you could stuff yourself tonight. Timothy was fetching cheese for his mamm, too. He wondered which kind she would need for her cheese sauce.”

  “It seemed like a pretty lengthy conversation to be only about cheese.”

  Malinda nearly crumpled her napkin to hurl at Atlee’s head but didn’t give in to the temptation. She willed her cheeks not to flush but felt the heat rise in spite of her best effort. “Timothy was just being nice and asking how I was. You must have been shirking your duties to take such notice of the customers’ conversations.”

  Sam guffawed and nearly choked on his butter-oozing biscuit. He licked his fingers before elbowing Atlee. “She got you there, Bruder.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, Malinda caught her parents exchanging smiles. They seemed to be enjoying the banter, so Malinda doubted they would help her out of this uncomfortable predicament.

  “For your information, Miss Know-It-All, if you hadn’t been staring so intently at Timothy Brenneman, you would have noticed the cheese factory wasn’t overrun with customers at that time.” A smug smile tugged at Atlee’s mouth.

  “I was not staring at Timothy. I was taught to be polite and give my attention to the person talking to me.”

  “I thought you liked Isaac Hostetler,” Roman chimed in.

  “It looked to me like Isaac only had eyes for Rebecca Zook today. He seemed to hang on her every word and every flutter of her lashes.” Atlee batted his eyes.

  Malinda gasped. Her nose burned and her eyes filled. She blinked hard.

  “Such things are not your concern, Roman, or yours, either, Atlee.” Saloma gave each of her sons a stern look.

  Roman shrugged. “Just wondering.”

  “Tim didn’t have a message for me or anything, did he?” Sam juggled fresh garden peas on his fork.

  “Nee. Why? Didn’t you see him at work today?”

  “I did, but he left early to pick up a few supplies, and apparently to pick up cheese, too.” Sam wiggled his eyebrows at Malinda.

  “Apparently.” Malinda refused to say more on the subject. She studied the food she’d been shuffling around on her plate.

  “I think we need to eat more and talk less,” Rufus announced.

  Malinda held back her sigh of relief. She couldn’t decide which subject was touchier—her relationship or non-relationship with Isaac, or her meeting with Timothy. She sent up a silent prayer of thanks for her daed’s intervention.

  As usual, her bruders had scarfed down their food while Malinda toyed with hers and only pretended to take an occasional bite.

  “Can we have cobbler now?” Aden pushed his empty plate away from him.

  “Cobbler? Peach cobbler?” Ray’s excitement nearly matched Aden’s. “Peach cobbler is my favorite. Can we have ice cream with it?”

  “I think we can have one dollop of vanilla ice cream.” Saloma smiled at her sons.

  “I’ll get it, Mamm.” Malinda pushed back her chair, jumped to her feet, and stacked her bruders’ empty plates on top of her own to hide the food still covering it.

  “Danki, Malinda. I’ll be along in a minute.” Saloma glanced at the stacked plates in Malinda’s hands and then at her daughter’s face. Malinda pretended not to notice and whisked the plates from the room.

  After taking the ice cream to the table, Malinda busily scrubbed plates and scarcely heard Saloma enter the kitchen. Her brain whirred with her bru
ders’ comments, interwoven with Timothy’s words and Isaac’s betrayal. It wasn’t like she and Isaac had been officially courting, but she thought they’d had an unspoken understanding. Evidently the feelings had been one-sided—her side. She exhaled a deep sigh.

  “That sounded almost painful. Is there anything you’d like to talk about?” Saloma set leftovers in the refrigerator.

  Malinda’s jaw tensed hard enough to cause a pain to shoot straight up to her forehead. She shook her head. She pulled a soapy hand from the dishwater to rub her cheek.

  Saloma ripped a paper towel from the roll on the counter and dabbed at the bubbles on Malinda’s cheek. “Are you sure?”

  “Are all fellows so fickle?” Malinda blurted.

  “Are we talking about a particular fellow?”

  “Ach! I don’t know. I guess it’s just me. Maybe if I hadn’t gotten sick and stayed in Ohio so long, things would be different.” Malinda drew in a shaky breath. Before Saloma could respond, she added, half to herself, “Maybe he just wants a healthy girl. I wish . . .” She let that thought evaporate into the stuffy kitchen air, knowing full well how her mamm would reply to that.

  “Gott’s grace is sufficient, Malinda.”

  “I know.” Mamm didn’t understand how hard it was to have a chronic disease that could wreak havoc on her body at the drop of a hat. She held her tongue, though. No use hearing the apostle Paul spiel again.

  “Maybe Isaac isn’t the right bu for you, and Gott has a different plan.”

  “What if His plan is for me to stay single? I really want a family of my own, Mamm.”

  “Sometimes our ways aren’t His ways.”

  Malinda sniffed but could do nothing to stop the tear trickling down her cheek. She stared into the murky dishwater and clamped her teeth together to bite back a sob.

  Saloma gently raised Malinda’s chin. “Maybe He has someone else in mind for you. Be open to His will, jah?” She pulled Malinda away from the sink and into her arms.

  Malinda wrapped her arms around her mamm, wet hands soaking Saloma’s back. “Ach, Mamm! I’ve gotten you all wet!” She started to pull away.

  Saloma tightened her hug. “A little water never hurt anyone. I don’t think I’m sweet enough to melt.” She chuckled, and even drew a little giggle from Malinda.

  Chapter Nine

  What was Gott’s plan for her life? Malinda pondered that as she crawled into bed. Even though the night was still warm, she pulled the sheet up to her chin. Something about having the cool sheet covering her body comforted her. She had prayed long and hard, until her knees throbbed against the wood floor despite the throw rug beneath them. She heard no voice in reply and felt no real direction. Maybe she hadn’t prayed hard enough or listened as closely as she should have. It would be so wunderbaar if the Lord would speak to her directly as He had to Abraham and Moses or if He sent an angel to her as He had to Mary and Joseph. Her decisions then would be so simple—either obey or disobey. She wouldn’t have to figure out which path to take. She would be told, and then she would simply obey. It appeared, though, that the Lord would not answer her in such a manner. It looked like He was leaving her to forge a path of her own.

  Malinda sighed and shifted to her right side. Mamm said to be open to Gott’s will. If only she knew for sure and for certain what that was. She had thought Isaac was the man for her. Wrong! If she’d been mistaken about Isaac, how would she ever trust her own judgment again? How would she know what was Gott’s will and what was her own notion?

  She punched her pillow to plump it up. Maybe the Lord had someone else for her, like Mamm said. Or maybe there would be no one willing to be saddled with a sickly girl. Could she be content to be an aenti ? Or maybe she could be a schoolteacher? Either way, she’d be loving other people’s kinner. She wouldn’t be holding her own boppli in her arms.

  Malinda flopped back over onto her back. Surely Gott didn’t want her to be alone. She doubted she could be content with remaining single all her life like the apostle Paul. He accepted Gott’s answer and Gott’s grace and found contentment. Could she do the same? She didn’t want to!

  “Forgive me, Lord Gott. I don’t mean to be contrary or demanding. I want to do Your will. Really I do. Is it too much to ask that Your will include a home and family of my own?” She snaked one hand out from under the sheet to swipe at the tears trailing down her cheeks. “And, Gott, I-I forgive Isaac and Rebecca.”

  When the last tear had trickled off her chin, Malinda sniffed and made up her mind to think rationally now that her emotions were spent. Mamm had probably been right when she said Isaac might not be the right one for her. After all, if he truly cared about her, he would have inquired about her and would have been eager to see her the moment she arrived home. He certainly wouldn’t have fallen prey to Rebecca’s charms the instant Malinda left town. But what was the Englisch saying? “Out of sight, out of mind” or something like that. Well, she had certainly been out of Isaac’s mind as soon as she was out of his sight. Most people, at least the girls, anyway, had figured out Rebecca’s game a long time ago. It seemed pretty obvious that Rebecca must be keeping a tally of all the buwe who succumbed to her fluttering eyes and sweet voice. Evidently Isaac wasn’t so astute or sincere. If he could turn off his feelings at the drop of a hat, he definitely wasn’t right for her. They hadn’t officially been courting. And to be honest with herself, she wasn’t in love with him, but she had thought she was moving in that direction. No more. Isaac was now part of the past.

  But what did her future hold? Who was right for her, and how would she know? Surely she would appeal to someone. The image of a tall, dark-haired, dark-eyed man with a black stethoscope circling his neck flashed through her mind. Dr. Todd McWilliams seemed interested, for sure. If a sophisticated, intelligent, important man like him could be attracted to her, she must not be too homely. Ach, Malinda! Looks aren’t important. And for goodness’ sake, the man is Englisch! He definitely was not the right man for her. Besides, he frightened her with his gaze that seemed to penetrate her mind and soul. He seemed too sure of himself, too sure he could convince her to leave her faith, her whole way of life. As if that would be possible! She had no desire to jump the fence. It was rather flattering, though, that she sparked his interest. She most likely was an enigma, a challenge for him.

  She shivered despite the warm night and the cotton sheet pulled up to her chin. She feared the doctor was not used to accepting nee for an answer. She prayed he wouldn’t try to locate her if he came to Baltimore. She turned to the other side, twisting herself in the sheet. It would definitely be best not to think about him at all. His attention may have given her ego a little boost, but he scared her more than anything.

  Why in the world did he behave the way he did? Was that how he treated all of his female patients, or just her? Sure, she was young and naïve and Amish, but she wasn’t unintelligent. She knew when something wasn’t right. And Dr. McWilliams definitely had not acted as a doctor should. None of the other doctors or male nurses or technicians who entered her hospital room in Ohio acted inappropriately in any way. They did their jobs and maintained a pleasant but professional manner. At first she thought Dr. McWilliams was merely trying to put her at ease in a strange place. But he overstepped the boundaries of a doctor-patient relationship and made her nervous, even fearful. Another little shiver snaked its way up her spine. I’m glad I’m in Maryland and he’s in Ohio. I just hope he stays there!

  Malinda grunted as she fought the sheet again. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut. Her whirling brain refused to allow sleep to claim her. Thoughts of the fellows her age flashed through her mind. She’d known them forever, had sat through eight years of school with them, had played tag and softball on the playground with them. They were nice enough, for sure, but not a single one made her heart skip even half a beat. Only Isaac, who had been a grade ahead of her in school, created a little stir, and that had only begun shortly before she left town.

  Her mind examined and
rejected other older fellows before settling on Timothy Brenneman. What had possessed Tim to speak to her as he had today at the cheese factory? Had he had such thoughts for a while and only gotten up his nerve to voice them today? She couldn’t remember him giving any indication he was interested in her in all the years he had been hanging around their house with Sam. When had he begun to think of her as anything other than Sam’s pesky little schweschder? Had she been too caught up in her dreams of Isaac to notice any subtle changes in Tim’s behavior? She searched her memory.

  Of course Malinda had stopped trailing along behind her older bruders and their freinden years ago, but she had almost always been around when the other fellows came to the house. Most of Atlee’s and Sam’s buddies greeted her politely and then promptly ignored her. But, now that she thought about it, Tim had been different. He always asked about her plans, her latest quilting project, and even her health, once the Crohn’s disease began making its ugly appearance. The look in his big blue eyes always made her feel he was genuinely interested in her replies rather than merely attempting to exchange pleasantries. He always looked down into her eyes as he spoke, not all around as if in a hurry to escape. His smiles always reached his eyes, making little crinkly lines at the corners. Had he always done this, or had his attitude changed recently?

  What did Malinda really know about Tim? He and Sam had been gut freinden forever, so he’d always been a part of her life. He had tolerated her presence and had never been mean to her. In fact, if she remembered correctly, he often jumped in to stop Sam or Atlee from teasing her. When she got older and no longer tramped after her bruders, her contact with Tim became a bit more limited. But she did notice when he was around.

  Timothy Brenneman was hard not to notice. He stood taller than Sam, and Malinda used to think Sam was a giant compared to her own slight, five-foot-one-inch frame. Tim’s muscles rippled beneath the sleeves of his shirt from all his hard labor on his daed’s farm and all his lifting of heavy furniture. Yet, despite his obvious strength, Malinda sensed gentleness about him. His deep voice had a soothing quality, and his expressive sky blue eyes beneath pale blond hair could trip any girl’s heart. But her own heart still smarted from Isaac’s betrayal.