The Amish Quiltmaker’s Unattached Neighbor (The Amish Quiltmaker #6)

Chapter 10

A da pounded on the top of Enos’s tent with her spatula. “Wake up. Wake up. We have a very long day ahead of us.”

All was quiet and still inside.

She pounded again. No answer. She jiggled one of the tent poles and sang a loud rendition of “Life’s Railway to Heaven.” Still nothing.

“Enos,” she called. “Get up.”

She jiggled the tent again and realized how easy it was to move. She could probably lift the whole thing with one hand. Enos wasn’t in there. Ada hadn’t even heard him get up this morning. Had she been that sound asleep, or had he been that quiet? She unzipped his tent flap and shined her flashlight inside. Sure enough, his sleeping bag had been neatly folded, his pillow fluffed, and his camp chair stowed in the corner.

She was torn between being mad that he wasn’t getting a full eight hours at night and being pleased that maybe she was. If she hadn’t heard him get up this morning, it meant she was sleeping more soundly.

Three days ago, after that horrible lunch with Tabitha, Ada had decided to sleep in the tent, at least until the potatoes and alfalfa had been planted. Enos needed her, and Beth hadn’t burned the house down yet, though the toilets were in desperate need of scrubbing and the kitchen always looked as if there’d been a food explosion. As much as she hated to admit it, Ada liked being close to Enos. Despite their glaring differences of opinion, they had a pleasant, comfortable relationship, and she was always happier being with Enos than not being with him. He strolled to her tent every night after dinner and sat with her by the fire. He reported on his day, and she reported on hers, which usually included reading another romance novel, ordering seed or supplies for her farm, or helping Enos in his fields. They roasted marshmallows together every night, and Enos had taught her how to make banana boats, which turned out to be the best thing since roasted marshmallows.

Enos, surprisingly, had solved Ada’s irrigation water problem. Two days before the water was scheduled to come down the ditch, Enos had dug deep trenches around Ada’s tent so the water could go down the rows without flooding her out. She was on her own little delta when it was Enos’s turn for water. Clay and Dat and seven members of Clay’s baseball team had reconfigured the pivot irrigation system so it didn’t roll onto the disputed six acres but still watered Ada’s entire field.

Ada had only seen Tabitha twice in three days, for which she was grateful. Tabitha left Ada with a bitter taste in her mouth. Enos was always respectful to his mater , but he surely could not be comfortable when she was around. She was too volatile and unpredictable. On two separate mornings, Tabitha had come out to the fence and called for Ada to come closer. Then she’d proceeded to instruct Ada on how to get Enos off her property. Ada was appalled that a mater could treat her son with such disdain, but she’d learned that if she just let Tabitha talk, Tabitha would soon tire of standing in the sun and go back to the house. Ada wasn’t sure what she did in there, because Enos did the laundry, cared for his horse, and cooked himself and his mamm three meals a day.

Ada’s gaze traveled to Enos’s house. There was a light on inside. Maybe Enos was making his mamm breakfast. Maybe he was tiptoeing around, getting ready and trying not to wake Tabitha. She heard his front door open quietly, and her pulse raced in anticipation. It didn’t help her breathing or her heart rate that he was so handsome. A girl could go a long time without seeing eyes that color of brown or muscles that toned.

He strolled to her spot by the fence. “Did you sleep well last night?”

“I think I did.”

“You’d still be so much more comfortable in your own bed.”

“So would you.”

He cupped his fingers around the back of his neck. “As long as you sleep outside, I sleep outside. That won’t change no matter how tired I get.”

“I know,” Ada said. “It’s very irritating.”

“ Jah , it is.”

Ada did her best to corral a wide smile. “So. Planting alfalfa today?”

He peered out at his field. “Freeman is letting me borrow his no-till planter. I don’t know how much I’ll get done, but it’s faster than planting by hand.” He seemed to frown with his whole body. “I can’t work fast enough to get everything done. I may have to let most of my field lie fallow this year.”

Ada crossed her arms and leaned on the fence post, her spatula dangling from her fingers. “I think you’ll get all forty acres planted today. Gotte is smiling on you.”

Resentment traveled across his face. “Gotte doesn’t smile on me any more than He smiles on you or my mamm or anybody else. Bad things happen whether we’re obedient or not.”

Ada batted her eyelashes innocently. “So what’s the point of trying to be gute if not for the reward?”

“You’re being contrary again.”

“One of us has to be stubborn and difficult. You sound like you’ve surrendered, like you believe your effort is for nothing.”

He leaned against the fence. “It will be for nothing if I lose the farm, and it’s hard to have faith when my mater and my closest neighbor are working against me.”

His words stung just a little bit. She wasn’t working against Enos the way Tabitha was working against him, but what did it matter if she was part of the reason he lost the farm? “I like to think I’m working for a higher purpose. It’s the principle of the thing, and I still think Gotte is smiling on you.”

“I don’t expect much of Gotte. Either He’ll decide to help me, or He won’t. Either He’ll smile on me today, or He won’t. I’m going to work hard either way. Gotte might be ignoring me or He might be trying to teach me a lesson, but He’s not going to be much help.”

“I’ve never heard anything quite so hopeless.”

He shook his head. “I’m just being realistic.”

Ada tapped his elbow with her spatula. She wanted to give him a gute whack, but that probably wouldn’t be very nice, even if he deserved it. “Your realism is nothing but a lack of faith, and I won’t stand for it.”

Enos folded his arms. “You can’t do much about it sitting on your high horse.”

“My high horse?”

“It’s easy to have faith if your faith’s never been tested. It’s easy to believe Gotte cares about you when you don’t have any problems.”

She gave him her best you-are-such-an-idiot glare. “There you go again, making assumptions when what you know about me could fit into half a teaspoon. Do you think it was easy to have faith when my mamm died?”

“I guess not,” he said grudgingly.

“That’s right, Bub. Not easy at all.”

“Did you just call me ‘Bub’?”

“Maybe you should get off your high horse and give me a little credit for knowing things through hard experience. My mamm ’s death was hard, but I never doubted Gotte.”

“I’m sorry about your mamm .”

“Don’t say you’re sorry. Just quit being such a bonehead.”

“Bonehead?” He pursed his lips as if trying not to smile. “Why did you call me ‘Bub’? Is it an insult?”

She growled. “The biggest insult in the world. You’re a Bub because you can’t see past the end of your nose.”

“Now you’re making assumptions about me, Babs. I see very well past the end of my nose, and I see that if I don’t want to lose this farm, I’m going to have to work very hard. Gotte won’t plow my fields for me.”

Ada did her best to look wildly angry when all she wanted to do was laugh. “Did you just call me Babs?”

“ Jah , because you think you know everything, but what you know about me could fit in a medicine dropper.” He took off his hat and scoured his fingers through his hair. “I got up early to start on my fields, not to argue with you. I’m wasting all sorts of time, and Gotte does not smile on time wasters.”

She pressed her fingers to her forehead and quit fighting a smile. “You are the most difficult man I’ve ever met, and that’s saying something.”

“I hope it isn’t a contest, because you are not the most difficult woman I’ve ever met.”

She certainly hoped not. Enos’s own mother won that award. “Of course I’m not, and to prove it, I’ve asked Beth to come over this morning and help me plant your potatoes.”

His eyebrows shot up his forehead. She had managed to surprise him. “You’re going to plant my potatoes?”

“You work too hard, and I’m getting tired of romance books.” That wasn’t entirely true. She adored romance books, but reading was folly when Enos needed her help.

His eyes bored a hole through her skull. “I haven’t bought the seed potatoes yet.” He hung his head. Ada didn’t like seeing that sort of dejection on a man as strong and proud as Enos. “You might as well know. I spent my last penny on alfalfa seed, and now it might go to waste because I don’t have time to plant it.”

Much as she hated knowing Enos was discouraged, Ada bit down on her tongue to keep from giving away all her secrets. “I had to order alfalfa seed for my dat , so I ordered seed potatoes for you. You can pay me after harvest.”

She had never seen him quite so ferhoodled . “You . . . you . . . ordered . . . but why?”

“Gotte smiles on those who work hard, and you work harder than anyone I know. Besides, I didn’t want all our hard work plowing to go to waste.”

“That’s . . . very nice of you,” he said, as if she’d knocked the wind out of him. No doubt Enos was so surprised because no one in his own family treated him with a shred of kindness.

She pointed toward her house. “You’ll have to come and help me fetch the seed potatoes. They’re heavy, and I only have one wheelbarrow.”

His face glowed with gratitude, and he jumped the fence in a single fluid, athletic motion. “Show me.”

“That was impressive,” she said. “You might yet have a career in gymnastics.”

Enos drew his brows together as his gaze focused over Ada’s shoulder.

Ada turned and squinted in the dim light. Right on time, a procession of horses, men, and farm equipment turned off the highway and made their way down the road. She could finally give free rein to her smile. “ Ach . I guess I’ll have to get the seed potatoes myself. You’re going to be busy.”

“Who is it?”

Menno was driving the four-horse team and wagon at the very front with Clay sitting next to him. Ada waved her arm back and forth to get their attention, but it was still a bit too dark for them to see her. “It’s Menno and Clay with Levi and his bruderen . I think Amos Burkholder was planning to bring his sons and three teams of four. Cathy, Mary, and Esther are coming to feed everybody at noon. You should have plenty of help. I hate to say I told you so, but if this doesn’t convince you that Gotte is smiling on you, I don’t know what will.”

He stood completely still and absolutely silent. She glanced at him, and the intense fire in his eyes knocked the wind out of her. He shot out his arms, wrapped them tightly around Ada, and planted a swift and decisive kiss on her lips. She couldn’t have been more surprised if the angels had shown up to escort her to heaven.

He let go of her and stepped back, which seemed a completely unnecessary gesture. Ada sort of, kind of, enjoyed the feel of his arms around her. Was that wrong? And did she care? He didn’t seem to regret kissing her, which would have been Ada’s first thought. She always worried what the bishop would say. But looking at him, she wouldn’t have been surprised if he did it again. That was how intensely he was studying her face.

“You never cease to amaze me,” he said.

“Me? Clay and Menno are the ones you should thank.”

He chuckled, a rare and beautiful sound. “Forget it, Ada. I’m not kissing either of them.”

The look on his face made Ada laugh. “That’s not what I meant.”

“That’s not what I meant either. Who else but you would camp on my farm, then enlist the entire gmayna to help me plant it? You want to be tough and stubborn. You swing that spatula around like a weapon, but you have the most loving heart I’ve ever known.”

“You just don’t know enough people,” Ada said, but her heart thumped wildly at his praise.

All kissing and conversations were over. Menno pulled even with them and whooped a greeting. Clay jumped down from the wagon and jogged to them. “ Gute to see you, Ada.” He shook Enos’s hand.

“ Denki for coming,” Enos said, with a slight hitch in his voice.

Clay grinned and shrugged. “I’m mostly dead weight because I’m not real good at driving a team yet. I’m here for brawn and moral support. My pitching skills are completely worthless on a farm. Menno can drive a team with his eyes closed.” He propped his hands on his hips. “We’ve got three teams, three no-till planters, and twelve men. We’ll be able to plant your field and milk your cow by the end of the day.”

Enos’s eyes glistened. “The gute news is that I don’t have a cow.”

“Even better,” Clay said. “Show us where you want us.”

Enos motioned Menno, then Amos and Freeman to the east side of his property where they could easily drive their teams and equipment into the back fields. Ada probably wouldn’t see him again until lunchtime.

Clay put a brotherly arm around Ada and gave her a squeeze. “I saw that kiss.”

“You did not!”

“Yes, I did, and I did a little cheer in my own head.” He raised his fists in the air. “We’ve got spirit, yes, we do. We’ve got spirit, how ’bout you?”

Ada laughed and cuffed him on the shoulder. “None of your Englischer traditions around here.”

He pretended she’d seriously injured his arm, but Clay was as muscle-bound as Enos. She couldn’t even make a dent. He brushed off his shoulder as if getting rid of a piece of lint. “So are you guys a thing?”

Ada rolled her eyes. “I don’t know what that means.”

“Are you dating? Do you like him? I’m undecided, but Esther and Mary think you kind of like him. Beth thinks you’re madly in love.”

She was definitely not madly in love, but she felt so giddy, she could barely form a sentence. Surely that didn’t have anything to do with the kiss and everything to do with the fact that Enos would get his field planted today.

“We’re . . .” It had been many days since she had considered Enos an enemy, but she didn’t quite know what they were to each other. “We’re adversaries. How can I like my adversary?”

“That is a very fancy word, Ada. Adversaries don’t usually go around kissing each other.”

“ He kissed me ,” she protested, but such weak reasoning wouldn’t convince Clay of anything.

He leaned closer as if to hear her better. “And did you like it?”

“He caught me by surprise.”

“But did you like it?”

“It happened so fast,” Ada said.

Clay groaned loudly. “You are avoiding my question, dear sister.”

“Is it working?”

He laughed. “It’s making me more and more suspicious every second. I’ve changed my vote. I’m going with Beth. You’re madly in love.”