Letters to Katie (20 page)
Katherine lay on the couch in the living room, her eyes shut against the dim light
coming through the front window. Her mother had drawn the curtains, but it hadn’t
helped much.
She put her arm over her forehead and prayed for the pain to go away. She was rarely
sick, and never this sick. It had aggravated her to call off work, but she couldn’t
do her job properly with such excruciating pain radiating through her head and down
into her neck.
“Katherine?”
She turned and barely opened her eyes as her mother came into the living room carrying
a tray with a mug and a plate of saltine crackers. She wasn’t hungry or thirsty, but
she tried to sit up anyway.
“Feeling any better?”
“A little.” It wasn’t true, but the words slightly alleviated her mother’s worried
expression.
“
Gut
. I brought you some tea. I put a cinnamon stick in the
water as I brewed it. This should help with the headache.” She set the tray on the
end table next to the couch.
Katherine sat up and took the mug. The strong cinnamon scent made her stomach lurch,
as did the sight of the crackers. But if the tea would get rid of the pain, she’d
drink it. She took a small sip, the hot tea burning as it slid down her throat.
“Danki,”
she said.
Her mother perched at the edge of the chair, frowning. “If you’re not better by tomorrow,
I’m taking you to the doctor.”
Katherine shook her head. “I’m sure I’ll be fine. It’s a simple headache.”
“A simple headache doesn’t last two days. And it doesn’t put you on the couch.”
“Then maybe it’s a migraine.” She took another sip of tea and forced a smile. “See?
Better already.”
“It doesn’t work that fast.” She stood. “Try to eat a couple of the crackers too.”
Her worried expression returned. “And don’t try to do any quilting. Or crocheting.
Or knitting. Or—”
“
Ya
. I understand.” Her mother knew her too well. Despite the pain, she was bored, and
irritated because she could be doing something productive instead of lying on the
couch. The tea had cooled off a bit, and she took a longer drink, praying it would
relieve her headache. Even if it went away enough so she could work on Rachel’s quilt,
she’d be satisfied.
But after she finished the tea, she lay back down, still in pain. Her mother said
it would take time. Until then she’d try to get some sleep.
Johnny sat in silence as Wagner and his wife, Lois, chowed down on the meal he’d brought
from Mary Yoder’s. He’d guessed right about the fried chicken, as well as the mashed
potatoes, green beans, coleslaw, and pecan pie for dessert. They’d barely said anything
while they finished their meal. He tapped his fingers against his kneecaps, waiting.
Finally Wagner wiped his mouth with a paper napkin. “Good stuff. And speaking of stuffed,
that’s what I am.”
“Me too.” Lois took one last bite of her pie. “Thank you for lunch, Johnny.” She eyed
his plate. “You didn’t eat much.”
He thought about making an excuse, but if he was going to be partners with them, he
should be honest up front. “I’m worried about a friend. She’s not feeling well. I’m
hoping to check on her after our meeting.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. I hope she gets well soon.”
“Me too.”
Wagner shoved his plate aside. “We should get to the point, Lois. We can’t take up
this young man’s day. Not when he has a
friend
he’s concerned about.” Wagner winked at Johnny.
“Yes. You’re right.” Lois set her plate to one side. Then she picked up her enormous
lime green handbag and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. When she spread it out
on the table, it looked like a sketch of his property, but with buildings, paths,
and small stick drawings of people scattered all over it.
He leaned forward and examined the paper. “What is this?”
“This,” Wagner said, beaming, “is our future.”
“Huh?”
“I just want you to know that I could get behind your original idea of a horse farm.
Thought it was a great one, actually.” He paused to pick at his teeth, then continued,
“But Lois and I were talking the other day, and she came up with something I think
is even better.” He looked at his wife. “That’s my Lois. She’s a smart one.”
Lois grinned. “Thank you, dear.”
Johnny looked up from the drawing. “I don’t understand. You’re not going to invest
in the farm?”
“Oh, we’re going to invest, all right.”
Johnny released a sigh of relief. “That’s good to hear.”
“But it won’t just be a horse farm.” He turned to his wife. “Lois, tell him your brilliant
idea.”
A knot of dread twisted in Johnny’s stomach even before Lois said a single word. He
looked at the drawing again, this time more carefully. As he leaned closer, he could
see words written on the square-shaped buildings, printed in neat, uniform script.
His eye caught the shape that represented the barn where it currently stood. But instead
of barn, the words
candy
shoppe
were visible.
“I believe this place has so much more potential than being a simple horse farm,”
Lois said.
“But I
want
it to be a simple horse farm.”
She looked at him with a mix of sympathy and pity. “John, John,” she said. “You have
to take into consideration the bigger picture. You want your business to be a success,
right?”
“Ya.”
“And we want to make money,” Wagner interjected. “We want a large return on our investment.
And frankly, we couldn’t make the numbers work, even though the idea was appealing.”
“So I did a little research about the area.” Lois folded her slender hands on the
table. “We live near Holmes County. Do you know how many people visit that area in
a year?”
Johnny shook his head, the knot growing tighter inside him. “I have no idea.”
“Thousands. And they all bring money with them. Money they’re happy to spend. You
could have that kind of money right here on your property. All you’d need are the
attractions.”
He frowned. “Attractions?”
“Let me show you.” Lois pointed to the candy shoppe. “We can tear down the barn and
put a smaller building here. This would be Mullet’s Candies and Gifts. We’d sell everything
from chocolates and pies to knickknacks and small furniture. Of course, everything
would be Amish made.”
“Or would have an Amish name.” Wagner grinned. “The word
Amish
is golden, son.”
Johnny held up his hand. “But—”
“And then behind the house we would have a petting zoo.” Lois tapped at a large rectangle
on the sketch.
“A zoo?”
“Kids love a zoo. With all those cute little goats and pot-bellied pigs and lambs
and sheep. And if we can bring in kids, we can bring in their parents.” She grinned.
“But that’s not the best part.”
“It isn’t?” Johnny said weakly.
“The best part is the bed-and-breakfast.”
His heart sank. He wasn’t even sure what a bed-and-breakfast was. He’d seen a couple
around town but never paid much attention. “Where would that go?”
“Right where we’re sitting.” She spread out her arms. “We’d have to gut the house,
of course. And add on. But we could turn this into a charming bed-and-breakfast. A
place where people can escape their hectic worlds and enjoy the simple life the Amish
so quaintly live.”
Johnny clenched his jaw. He didn’t appreciate Lois talking about his community as
if it existed to serve and entertain Yankees. And they still hadn’t told him what
he really needed to hear. “Where would the horses go?”
Lois pointed to the petting zoo. “Not to worry. We’ll have ponies here too—”
“Not ponies. Horses. The ones I plan to breed and sell.” He scanned the drawing. “I
don’t see a horse barn here. Or a pasture.” He did see the words
guided tours
scribbled on the paper, as if the idea had been an afterthought, but an enthusiastic
one considering the three exclamation points after the words.
“The barn is right here.” She pointed to a smaller rectangle a short distance from
the petting zoo. “An authentic Amish barn, complete with old-fashioned equipment.”
“Like a plow,” Wagner said.
“And a thresher,” Lois added.
Wagner nodded. “Don’t forget the buggy.”
“Of course. But it will be for show only.” Lois snapped her fingers. “Honey, what
do you think about putting a spinning wheel in there?”
“I think it’s a fine idea.” He put his arm around his wife. “Won’t the tourists just
love that?”
Johnny looked at both of them. Were they serious? “We don’t use spinning wheels.”
“Oh, like that matters.” Lois waved him off. “No one will know the difference, and
people will find it adorable.”
“Okay.” Johnny could feel the irritation rise inside of him. “Maybe I wasn’t clear
at our first meeting. This is a horse farm. Not a tourist stop.”
“Son,” Wagner said, dropping his arm from Lois’s shoulder. He looked directly at Johnny.
“This place is a dump right now. It’s nothing. And without our money, it will stay
nothing for a very long time.”
Johnny sucked in a breath. He couldn’t say anything, because they were right. At least
about the place being a dump.
“Lois has a gift for seeing potential. She has a good head for business, and she’s
smart.” Wagner looked at his wife. “It’s why I married her. And I fully support her
plan.”
Lois patted Johnny’s hand. “I understand your resistance, John.”
“I’m not so sure you do,” he said.
“But sometimes you have to let go of a dream and build a new one.” She smiled. “A
better and more lucrative one.”
“So this is all about money for you.”
Wagner shook his head. “It’s also about success. Why do you think we have enough money
to sink into something like this? It’s because we
don’t invest in anything that could fail.”
“My horse farm won’t fail.”
“How much do you know about breeding horses?”
Johnny’s eyes narrowed. “I know a
lot
about horses. I’ve bred them. I’ve raised them. I’ve trained them.”
Wagner leaned back. Crossed his hands over his expansive stomach. “Then how much do
you know about running a business? Have you ever started one? Have you nurtured it
to fruition? Have you expanded it and made it better than your initial idea ever was?”
Johnny paused. “No.”
“Then you should listen to people who have. We know what we’re talking about here.”
“John.” Lois gave him a sympathetic smile. “If you want to have a little horse breeding
operation on the side, you can do that. We’ll purchase the land next door and you
can build your own barn. You mentioned that in your cute little business plan, if
I remember. You can raise two or three horses, if that makes you happy.”
Suddenly Johnny realized the full extent of what the Wagners were saying. The farm
wouldn’t be his. His house wouldn’t be his. The Wagners would own everything. They
would run everything. They hadn’t invested a dime, and Lois was already coddling him,
giving him permission to play at horse farming, as if he were a child.
“I can’t do this,” he said quietly.
“What did you say?” Wagner asked.
Johnny took a deep breath, collecting his thoughts. “Don’t get me wrong. I don’t have
anything against businesses that attract Yankees. But that’s not the type of business
I want to be in. And you’re right, I don’t know how to run a business. But I also
don’t know how to run a bed-and-breakfast or a petting zoo or a candy shop.”
“Oh, you won’t have to do any of that,” Lois said. “We’ll hire locals to work those
jobs.”
“Then what would I do?”
Wagner smiled. “Sit back and count your money.”
Johnny shook his head. “That’s not what I want.”
Lois’s kind expression hardened. “I think you need to take a long, hard look, not
at what you want, but what you need. Right now you have nothing. We’re giving you
the opportunity to have something. Something great.”
Again Johnny wiped his sweaty palms against his pants. As much as he didn’t want to
admit it, the Wagners were right, at least in part. He didn’t have anything. That
was part of the reason he hadn’t told Katherine how he felt about her. He’d wanted
a secure future. A successful business. The Wagners were offering him that opportunity.