Read Letters to Katie Online

Authors: Kathleen Fuller

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Letters to Katie (9 page)

“You’ll figure it out.” Johanna snuggled against his shoulder, rubbing her little
nose into the dish towel.

“You look tired,” Mary Beth said.

“I’m fine.” He gazed down at Johanna as she started to settle down.

“How’s the farm coming along?”

“Gut.”
He didn’t look away from the baby.

“Chris and I can’t wait to see it. When can we drop by?”

Johnny paused. “No hurry. You and Chris need to concentrate on your
familye
.”

“That doesn’t mean we can’t visit other members of our
familye
.” Mary Beth held Johnny’s gaze. “Unless you don’t want the company.”

“Of course I want company. Things just aren’t ready yet.”

“You have two
bruders
, not to mention
Daed
, and even Chris, who would be happy to help you. Even Eli could do a little something.”

“I know.”

“But?”

He wasn’t going to answer her, but she was his twin and knew him better than anyone.
“It’s hard to explain.”

“I’m listening.”

“Remember when we were kids and you used to sneak out to that old barn to be by yourself?”

Mary Beth nodded. “It was my special place. Until you found it.”

“And Sawyer.”

“But you were following me. We got into a ton of trouble, didn’t we?”

“Considering we lied to
Mamm
and
Daed
, the barn burned down, and Sawyer almost got sent to foster care until he was eighteen,
I thought we got off pretty easy.”

“We did.” She smiled. “But we had some great times growing up too.”


Gut
memories.” He nodded. “Well, I want to make some memories of my own now.”

“Of course you do. But do you have to do that alone?”

Johnny shifted Johanna to his lap, tucking her into the curve of his arm. “Somehow
I have the feeling you’re not talking about the farm anymore.”


Nee
. Katherine and I had a nice visit.” She paused. “I know, Johnny.”

He stilled. “Know what?”

“How you feel about her.”

He didn’t say anything for a long time. Just stared at his niece as her eyelids drifted
shut.

“I’ve seen how you look at her.”

“This conversation is getting
seltsam
.” He didn’t want to talk about this, especially with his sister.

“It’s not the conversation that’s
seltsam
. It’s you. Even more than usual.”

“Very funny.”

“It’s not meant to be. For a long time I’ve wondered when you’d come to your senses
about her. What I don’t understand is why you won’t tell her your feelings have changed.”

He bit the inside of his cheek. “It’s not the right time.”

“Johnny, look at me.”

“What?” He lifted his gaze to hers.

“I don’t want you to spend your life alone.”

“I don’t plan to.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

“Your
mammi
needs to mind her own business,” he murmured to Johanna.

“I’m worried about you,” Mary Beth said. “I’m allowed to be concerned about
mei bruder
.”

“And I already said I’m fine.” Would this happen every time he visited a member of
his family? Why were they suddenly so nosy?

“I’m also concerned about Katherine. You don’t expect her to wait for you forever,
do you?”

“Of course not.” Johnny frowned at Mary Beth.

“There’s someone else interested in her. His name is Isaac.”

Jealousy slammed into him. He didn’t look at his sister.

“If you don’t do something soon, you might lose her.”

“I know what I’m doing.” But did he? Envy and failure battled within him. He wondered
if he knew anything anymore. He stood and handed his niece to Mary Beth. “I should
head home,” he said.

“So soon? You just got here. Chris will be home in an hour or so. I know he’d like
to see you.”

“I’ve got stuff to do.” He hesitated. “Promise me something.”

Mary Beth continued to pat Johanna’s back. “What?”

“You won’t say anything to Katherine.” He couldn’t risk her finding out how he felt.

“As long as you promise you’ll tell her. Soon.”

He nodded. “When the time is right, I will.”

As Johnny drove home, he thought about Mary Beth’s words. His sister was right. He
couldn’t continue like this. He wasn’t being fair to Katherine. If only he hadn’t
been so dense and realized his feelings for her sooner.

He remembered clearly the day he’d fallen for her. It was a Saturday afternoon, and
several of their friends whom they’d gone to school with gathered for a last-minute
volleyball game at the Yoders’. Bekah, as outgoing as Katherine was shy, managed to
convince Katherine to play.

“I can’t,” she’d said. She continued to protest, arguing with Bekah about it.

“Come on, you’re holding up the game,” he said at last.

Finally she relented, and they were on the same team. It wasn’t long before he saw
why she was reluctant to play. She was awful. Couldn’t even serve. Finally, after
her third attempt went into the net, he offered to show her how.

“Here,” he said, coming up behind her. He showed her how to hold the ball in her left
hand. “Then you fold your right hand into a fist.”

“Mullet, just let her serve,” someone from the other team shouted.

“Yeah,” David Esh, the bishop’s grandson, said. He laughed. “We’re ready to get the
ball back.”

Humiliated, she handed Johnny the ball. “I shouldn’t have played,” she said.

He saw the hurt in her beautiful blue eyes. The same hurt he’d seen for years. Hurt
he’d caused.

“Shut up,” he yelled at the guys. Then he grabbed her hand. Pulled her closer to him
and served the ball with her. Not only had it flown over the net, it made her smile.

Now, as he gripped the reins, the memory came back to him in a rush. On the surface
it wasn’t a big deal. But when he’d held her hand, felt the soft warmth of her touch,
her eyes meeting his, for the first time he really saw her. Understood what his neglect
had done to her. And knew he not only wanted a chance, he also had to make up for
the past.

Being able to have a successful business, to show her she wouldn’t have to struggle
if they married—that was a start.

Johnny arrived home, his mind heavy with regret and failure. After he put up his horse
and buggy, he went inside his pitiful house.

On the rough pine table lay his brand-new cell phone. Now that he owned a business,
he wasn’t going against the
Ordnung
by having a cell. He pulled the card out of his pocket and stared at it.

Maybe having a Yankee as an investor wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe—just maybe—this would
be the answer to his prayers.

He flipped open the phone, rechecked the number, and dialed.

C
HAPTER
7

The following Monday Katherine was surprised to see Johnny arrive for lunch at Mary
Yoder’s. She glanced at him across the dining room. Fortunately he wasn’t seated in
her section. She struggled to ignore him but couldn’t help noticing how his long fingers
cupped a mug of coffee as he spoke to the Yankee man across the table.

She tried to focus her thoughts on Isaac as she went to one of her tables to take
an order. He’d been in the last two Mondays, but so far she hadn’t seen him. Which
she considered a good thing, since Johnny was here. Her mind was confused enough without
both men being in the same vicinity.

“Miss? We’re ready to order.”

Katherine looked down at the couple seated at the table. The bustling lunch crowd
surrounded her. Glasses clinked and dishes clanked as waitresses, some Amish, some
Yankee, delivered meals and bussed tables. She collected her thoughts, and with pen
poised over her pad, she asked, “What can I get for you?”

“Faster service, for a start.” The woman brushed back a lock of her silvery hair from
her plump cheek. “I would think that after waiting in line for fifteen minutes to
get a seat, we would have put in our order by now.”

“I apologize, ma’am. Mondays are always busy. We usually get traffic from the flea
market.”

“We just came from there.” Her dining partner, a gentleman with thick salt-and-pepper
hair, gave Katherine a smile. “Found some great bargains—”

“Henry.” The woman’s gaze was sharp enough to snap twigs. “Our order?”

“Right. Fay”—he held out his hand toward the woman, who appeared to be in her midfifties—“will
have the chicken and noodles. I’ll have the meat loaf.”

“And an unsweetened iced tea.” She looked up at Katherine. “Did you get that?”

“Ya.”
Katherine wrote the order on her pad. She smiled, forcing a friendliness she didn’t
feel, and picked up the menus. As she walked away, she tried not to look at Johnny,
who had barely touched the plate of thick-sliced roast beef and gravy-smothered mashed
potatoes. But she couldn’t help it. She didn’t recognize the man seated across from
him. What was Johnny doing here anyway? He never ate at the restaurant. Yet here he
was, leaning forward and listening to the man, seemingly hanging on to the Yankee’s
every word.

“Katherine.”

She turned at the sound of her boss’s voice, cringing with embarrassment at being
caught staring at Johnny. “Yes, ma’am?”

The petite woman peered up at her through square-shaped, tortoise-framed glasses.
“Is that an order in your hand?”


Ya
. I’ll get this to the back right away.” She started to leave when her boss put her
small hand on Katherine’s arm.

“You’re distracted today. That’s not like you. Is something wrong?”

Katherine shook her head.
“Nee.”
She snuck one last glance at Johnny before looking at her boss again. “Everything’s
all right.”

“Good. Now hurry, you don’t want to keep your customers waiting.”

She turned in her order, determined to focus on her job. But as she faced the dining
room, she froze. Isaac was sitting a few feet away from Johnny.

“So you want me to invest in your horse farm, even though you only have one horse.”

Johnny nodded at James Wagner. The robust, balding man had already plowed through
his meat loaf platter, while Johnny had taken only a few bites, despite the growl
in his stomach. Nerves kept him from the food. The future of Johnny’s business rested
on Wagner’s decision.

He had no idea what it was like to have a partner. And for all his bluster about making
the farm work on his own, he was still depending on someone else to make it happen.

But he didn’t have a choice. He needed a man with deep pockets. While it was possible
he could put his plans for the
farm on hold and wait until he had a job, he didn’t want to wait that long. And if
it took a partnership with Wagner to speed the process along, Johnny didn’t have a
problem throwing his straw hat in with a Yankee, who, according to his cousin, had
a good reputation. Later he would explain his decision to his father. He couldn’t
go to him right now, admit he failed, and ask for help. Not until he’d exhausted every
possible solution.

“How many acres do you have?” Wagner tapped his fingers against the edge of the white-and-red
checked tablecloth.

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