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

Chapter 15

G oshen seemed a little down in the dumps today, and Ada felt much like he did. She smoothed her hand down the side of his neck and cooed her sympathy. “I hate to admit it, but I miss Enos too.” No matter how difficult and stubborn and uncooperative Enos was, he had become a very important part of Ada’s life, and she’d be shattered if he no longer wanted her in his. Had she ruined things between them? Ada had never been quite so unsure of herself or quite so wretched. Still, she couldn’t regret telling Enos what he didn’t want to hear. If that meant he never wanted to talk to her again, then that was his choice, not hers.

Of course telling herself that she’d done the right thing and living happily with the consequences were two different things, and the ache in her heart grew every day Enos was away. Ada used the pitchfork to dish up some hay for Goshen, then filled his water trough and gave him the special vitamin mixture Enos always fed him.

Enos had been gone four days, and Ada had been adamant that she be the one to feed and water Goshen, even though Enos was ferociously mad at her. The morning Enos left for Pennsylvania, Ada had marched over to his shed that doubled as a barn and found Gary Schmucker mucking out Goshen’s stall. Gary was a nice boy, responsible and trustworthy, but Ada had told him that she would be feeding Goshen from then on. Gary was disappointed that he wouldn’t be getting ten dollars a day, but Ada promised to make him a peanut butter chocolate pie as a consolation prize. Nobody was going to take care of Goshen but Ada, and there was nothing Enos could do about it.

Because he wasn’t there.

Would he ever come back? And what would Ada do if he didn’t?

Ada kneaded a tight knot at the base of her neck. She didn’t even remember what it felt like to sleep in a real bed with fitted sheets and a fluffy pillow. Heaven help her, but she’d spent the last four nights in the tent for no reason. Enos wasn’t there to take it down or be irritated or lecture her about safety. She wanted to be there when Enos came home, and with no way of knowing when that would be, she’d opted to sleep in the tent for a few more nights. Maybe she should have packed up her tent and moved home, but she and Enos hadn’t parted well, and taking down the tent felt so final, as if she was abandoning him to the mercy of his mater . She wanted Enos to know that even though he’d hurt her feelings and even though she didn’t like his mater , she would be there for him no matter what.

He probably wouldn’t appreciate the gesture.

“What are you doing here?”

Ada nearly jumped out of her skin. She turned to see Enos eyeing her as if she were a complete stranger who was trespassing on his property. She winced when she saw his face. He was not happy to see her. “Enos, you scared me.”

“Why are you here? I told you I’d find someone else to take care of Goshen.”

“And I told you I’d take care of it.”

He cocked his eyebrow. “And I told you I didn’t want you to.”

“ Nae , you didn’t. You just said you’d find someone else. You didn’t say I couldn’t do it. I wasn’t about to let Gary Schmucker do the job I told you I’d do. I had to let him go.”

He scrubbed his hand down the side of his face. “I’m not going to argue with you about this. I’m home. You can go now.”

Ada’s heart plummeted to her toes. She was being dismissed. If Ada had been Mary, she would have slinked away and nursed her wounds in the privacy of her own tent, but Ada wasn’t that easy to get rid of. Surely Enos knew that by now. “How did things go in Pennsylvania?”

“I hoped you’d move your tent while I was gone, but I can see you’re determined to be unreasonable.” Still that cold, formal way of speaking. “You’ve proved your point, and now I want you off my property.”

Ada folded her arms and glared at him, even though she wanted to throw herself on the ground and cry. “ Ach , you’re one of those men.”

His eyes narrowed. “One of what men?”

“A man who thinks that any woman who disagrees with him is unreasonable.”

“ Ach , you’re one of those women. The kind who doesn’t care about anything but getting her way.”

Like Tabitha? Did Enos really think she was so much like Tabitha? She lifted her chin. “I don’t care about anything but doing what’s right.”

“Unfortunately for me, you think you’re right even when you’re not.”

Either he was in a very bad mood, or he was still mad at her for saying what she’d said about his mater . She hated to ask the important question. It would remind him of their last conversation. “Did your mater come back with you?”

He turned as if he was going to leave. “ Jah . You don’t have to feed Goshen anymore, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t come onto my property unless you’re invited.”

She propped a hand on her hip. “So are you admitting the potato field is my property?”

“If that’s what I have to do to get you off my farm, then jah . It’s yours. You can stop camping, and you can stop interfering in my life.”

Ada should have felt some sense of victory, but all she felt was sick. Enos had gone to great lengths to keep his claim to that six acres, and now he was giving up? She might have been a little low, but Enos seemed completely and utterly defeated, as if he’d given up the fight and didn’t care about trying. Things were worse than Ada had anticipated, and she had no idea how to fix them . . . how to fix Enos.

He may have given up, but she hadn’t, even though it wasn’t much of a fight if she was the only one fighting. “Well,” she said, “aren’t you going to tell me about Pennsylvania? What happened when you got there? How is your mater ? How are you?”

“We’re fine.”

“Fine?”

He nodded, as if he didn’t feel guilty at all that he had just lied to her face. “I hope you will respect our privacy and keep your opinions to yourself.”

What a spiteful thing to say, as if she were a busybody who couldn’t resist sticking her nose into other people’s business. Enos had freely shared some of his most heart-wrenching secrets with her. She thought they were friends. Ada pressed her lips together to keep harsh words from escaping, either that or a sob from deep within her throat. Her worst fears had come true. Enos wanted nothing to do with her.

She knew better than to try to reason with him. She certainly wouldn’t try to coax him into talking to her or being her friend. She had a shred of self-respect left. “You can talk until you’re blue in the face, Enos Yoder. How do I know you won’t try to move the fence in the middle of the night if I’m not there to protect my property?”

“I won’t. You have my solemn promise.”

Ada swallowed hard and willed her voice not to shake. “‘Swear not at all, but let your communication be yea, yea, nay, nay.’” She was trying to get under his skin, but it was very thick.

“Okay then, no promises. I won’t set foot on your property again. Your six acres are safe from me.”

Ada refused to concede. That tent was her only connection to Enos, and she wouldn’t abandon it. “I’m not leaving my tent.”

His eyes flashed with anger. “Well, I’m done sleeping on the ground, so I guess you’ll have to protect yourself. I won’t be there to save you when you get mauled by a coyote.”

“At least you’ll be getting a gute night’s sleep, which is what I have been urging you to do from the beginning. I’m froh you’re finally taking my advice.” That comment ignited another spark behind his eyes. She walked out of the barn and turned around at the door. “You’re welcome to come to dinner tonight at the campfire. We’re having a party for Clay’s birthday. I’m making Dutch oven chicken and dumplings.”

His expression softened for half a second. Then he went back to scowling. “Goodbye, Ada. Please don’t bother me again.”

Gmay was at Esther Kiem’s house on Sunday, and Ada didn’t hear a word the ministers said because even though Enos wasn’t there, she couldn’t stop thinking of him and his broad shoulders and his brown eyes that were kind and serious and intelligent all at the same time. Not even Joe from the Liza series could compare to Enos. He was everything Ada imagined in the perfect man.

Esther and Levi held gmay in Esther’s quilt shop, which they had stripped of quilts and shelves and tables to make room for the church benches. Neither Tabitha or Enos had come to gmay this morning, and someone had spread the word that Tabitha wasn’t feeling well. Maybe she wasn’t feeling well, or maybe she was moping. Enos had brought her back to Colorado. She couldn’t have been happy about that.

Ada hadn’t seen or heard from Tabitha since she’d left for Pennsylvania with Tyson Carruthers last Saturday. The yelling had completely stopped, and as far as Ada could tell, Tabitha hadn’t left the house for three days. She was definitely moping. Maybe she was giving Enos the silent treatment. She didn’t know that Enos would probably consider that a blessing.

Ada did her best to concentrate on the words of the hymn, even though all she could see on the page was Enos’s face. After that day in the barn, Enos had barely said three words to her, even though they were in painfully close proximity. Enos had not been true to his word, because he was still sleeping in the little tent that was in no way ample space for him and couldn’t have been comfortable. Ach , vell , she knew what she had to do to induce him to sleep in his own bed, and she wasn’t willing to do it. Camping on those six acres was the only connection to Enos she had left. She held onto it like a lifeline.

Would he ever forgive her? Did he think about her night and day like she thought about him? Did he still want to be friends, or would he prefer things between them stay awkward and adversarial? Ada didn’t know anything anymore except that there was a big hole in her chest, and she could see no end to the emptiness.

When services ended and the men started moving benches outside, Ada hurried to the kitchen to be with Esther. Since gmay was at Esther’s house, Esther was supervising the fellowship supper, and she’d asked Ada to help her. Women sliced bread and cheese and pulled pickles from jars and set them in bowls. They walked in and out of the kitchen to serve food and collect empty plates.

Esther filled pitchers with water, which she gave to some of the teenage girls to take outside. Ada helped her with cups and napkins. Ada had, of course, told Esther all about Enos and Tabitha and her plan to camp for probably the rest of her life. Esther glanced at Ada and clucked her tongue. “You are miserable, Ada. I’m so sorry.”

Ada frowned. She’d been doing her best all day to look nauseatingly cheerful. “How can you say that? I’m just standing here folding napkins with a bland smile on my face.”

“You’re trying too hard, and since when did anyone ever fold napkins for fellowship supper?”

Ada grunted her irritation. “ Ach , vell , I thought everyone would appreciate folded napkins.”

Esther took Ada’s chin in her hand. “The light’s gone out of your eyes, heartzley .”

Ada scrunched her lips together. The light had also gone out of her life. “I’ll get over it.”

“Will you?”

“I’m not a wallower. At some point, no matter what bad things happen to us, we’ve all got to get on with life.”

Esther studied her face doubtfully. “I suppose that’s true.”

The front door slammed shut, and Cathy Larsen came around the corner into the kitchen carrying her huge yellow purse and panting heavily. “Cathy?” Ada said. “What are you doing here?”

Cathy sat down at the kitchen table and tried to catch her breath amidst the hustle and bustle of a dozen Amish women around her. She said hello to Hannah Kiem and Mayne Miller and waved to Erda Sensenig, then pointed at Esther. “I’ve got to talk to both of you, but this is horrible and shocking gossip, so we need to be alone. Can we go in the living room?”

Esther filled another pitcher with water. “We’re right in the middle of fellowship supper.”

Cathy’s wrinkles bunched on top of each other. “I know. I know, but this is even more important than fellowship supper, and I’m so irritated I could pull all my hair out.”

Esther looked doubly annoyed. Hosting gmay was one of the most important days of the year for an Amish fraa . “Being irritated isn’t a good reason to interrupt fellowship supper.”

Cathy stood up and hooked her elbow under her monstrous purse. She gave Hannah, Esther’s mater -in-law, something that passed for a pleasant look. “Hannah, I’ve got to talk to Ada and Esther. Could you supervise fellowship supper until I get back? I won’t be more than thirty minutes.”

“Thirty minutes?” Esther squeaked. “I can’t be gone for thirty minutes.”

Cathy headed down the hall. “You’ll change your tune when you hear what I have to say.”

Esther glanced at Hannah, who nodded and laughed. “We’ll be fine. Most of the food is already served.”

Ada and Esther followed Cathy into the relative quiet of Esther’s front room. It was where Esther used to have her small quilt shop. Cathy sat down on the couch and leaned back as if she’d gotten there just in time. “Some days I wonder if I’m too old for this.”

Ada and Esther sat on either side of her, and their gazes connected. Ada was confused, but Esther seemed nothing but irritated. “What is this horrible gossip you want us to hear,” Esther said, no doubt in an effort to hurry the whole thing along so she could get back to her kitchen.

Cathy opened her purse and rummaged through it. “I was at church today. Did I tell you I go to church in Alamosa because the pastor there is a really good speaker and gives very short sermons. We’re in and out of there in forty-five minutes.”

“Cathy, I’ve really got to get back.”

Cathy clamped her hand around Esther’s wrist when Esther tried to stand up. “Really, Esther, you’ve got to learn patience. I’m not even fifteen seconds into my story.”

Esther folded her arms and sat back. “Okay, you’ve got forty-five more seconds to make this interesting or I’m leaving.”

Cathy pulled three suckers from her purse and handed one each to Ada and Esther. “Try these. They’re from a fancy boutique in Colorado Springs, and they are the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

Had Ada imagined it, or had Esther just growled? Ada unwrapped her sucker and popped it into her mouth. It was delicious, but Ada had no idea why Cathy had given her one. Esther left the wrapper on and tucked the sucker behind her ear.

Cathy unwrapped hers. “There’s a man at church, Wilford Brenchly. He sometimes drives the Amish places.”

“I know him,” Esther said, again trying to hurry the story along. “He drives me into town sometimes when you’re not available.”

“Wilford told me that he got a call last night to drive an Amish woman to the hospital, and guess who it was.” Cathy stuffed the sucker into her mouth.

Esther was more cross than interested. “Who?”

“Tabitha Hoover.”

Ada’s heart tied itself into a tight knot. “Enos’s mother?”

Cathy nodded. “I’m offended Enos didn’t call me to take his mom to the hospital. Apparently, he doesn’t think I’m trustworthy.”

“What is wrong with Enos’s mother?”

Cathy pulled the sucker from her mouth with a soft pop. “She told Wilford she was going into the hospital to die of a broken heart. Enos let slip that Tabitha has been refusing to eat. Wilford said she was so weak, Enos had to find a wheelchair to get her into the hospital.”

Esther sat up straight, as if she was suddenly interested in Cathy’s story. “Neither of them was at church today.”

Ada couldn’t conceive of such a thing. “She’s refusing to eat?” Her heart broke for Enos. If Tabitha died, he’d never recover.

Cathy waved her sucker in the air. “It makes me so mad. I’ve always said that woman is a piece of work, but this time she’s gone too far. We’ve got to put a stop to it.”

Ada lost her appetite for the very gute sucker Cathy had just given her. “I agree, for Enos’s sake. But what do you think we should do?”

Cathy zipped up her purse. “Much as I hate to say it, we girls need to stick together. We’ve got to go to the hospital and give Tabitha a reason to live.”