Cassie's heart thudded for fear of saying the wrong thing. Why did he think she knew the answers to such questions?
Because he trusted that her faith was strong while his was not. He yearned for her to understand, to give him an answer that would help him make sense of his father's death. She wanted to help him so badly, but she didn't know if she would say what he needed to hear.
She clutched the lantern more tightly in her hand. She wasn't up to it, but God was. She just had to open her mouth. God would fill it with words. He was the only one who could change Zach's heart.
She stepped closer to him and ran her mitten down the handle of the axe. “I'm sorry about your dad. I don't know why God didn't save your dad or mine, but I know beyond seeing that God loves us more deeply than we can begin to imagine. âWhy' is a question we can't answer. He said, âBe still and know that I am God.'”
Zach looked truly stricken, as if he wanted to understand but found it impossible to actually do so. “But what does that mean?”
“I think it means that we must let Him be God, trust in His plan, and do our best to love each other and keep his commandments.”
Zach expelled a long, tortured breath. “I can't trust in a plan that brings so much sadness.”
“Do you remember the Bible story of Jesus's friend Lazarus?”
“Yeah.”
“The Bible says that Jesus wept at Lazarus's death because He loved Lazarus. Mary and Martha were heartbroken. Jesus wept because of their sorrow.”
“And then He brought Lazarus back to life,” Zach said.
“I'm sure God wept to see you so sad about your dad, but He had a bigger plan for you and your mom and even your dad. Nothing is by accident, and not even a sparrow falls to the ground without God knowing.”
To her surprise, she saw tears pool in his eyes in the dim light of the lantern. “Why did I curse God when my dad died and you didn't?”
“I was only ten. Too young to be angry, maybe.”
“It's because you're an angel.” He yanked the axe from the wood. “And I'm no angel.”
“Your anger is as much a part of you as your kind heart. God wants your whole heart, the parts that are easy to give and the parts that are hard. Maybe your struggle is a piece of His plan, especially if the struggle makes you stronger in the end.” She took the axe from him and, nearly tipping over, dragged it toward the toolshed. “Like if I hefted this axe enough times every day, I'd get bulging muscles like yours.”
He held up a hand to stop her, took the axe, and lifted it as if it weighed three pounds. “I'd rather not have to explain to your grandparents why you got a hernia.”
“They like you. They'd blame it on me.”
They trudged together to the toolshed, where Zach hung up the axe and zipped his coat. “Can I help with the butchering on Saturday? I don't have to be to the hospital until noon.”
Cassie made a face. “You want to help with the butchering? It's kind of gross.”
“I'm a doctor. Believe me, I've seen gross.”
She giggled. “Yep. Feet. Feet are gross.”
“Ripping out an ingrown toenail is kind of cool.” He motioned for her to go ahead of him as they walked to his car.
She shivered with the cold, but she didn't necessarily want to go inside just yet, not with Dr. Reynolds smiling at her like that. He slowly pulled out his car keys and unlocked his car.
She shook her head in mock surprise. “You locked your car again?”
He chuckled. “Old habit.” He stood next to his car as if he were reluctant to get in. “So, can I help with the butchering?”
“If you really want to. They're starting at six.”
“Will I get to meet some of your cousins?”
She winced. “Norman and Luke are doing it this year. And Titus. Titus doesn't have a girlfriend, so the family recruits him for everything.”
“Does Titus know Norman is coming?”
“He's a glutton for punishment.”
The doctor gave Cassie a wry smile. “So am I.”
Chapter Thirteen
Getting up the hill in Fifi got easier every time he did it. Maybe he'd finally figured out how to drive uphill in the snow. Maybe it was the three bags of snow melt he'd sprinkled all the way down the hill after the second time he'd come up here. Three large bags was a small investment in the grand scheme of things. If he wanted to see Cassie, he had to be able to make it up her hill without plowing his car into a snowdrift.
By the muted light of early dawn, he could see a ribbon of smoke curling from behind the barn. Norman and Luke must have already gotten here.
Zach parked his car next to Cassie's. He couldn't help but smile every time he saw their matching sets of wheels. In his mind, having the same car gave them a connection, a bond. He'd take any advantage he could get.
Wrapping his red scarf around his neck, he crunched through the snow to the porch. It might have been in the upper thirties today. Cassie opened the door before Zach could knock. She wore a threadbare black coat and a pair of jeans with holes in the knees. She'd tied her hair up in a red bandanna, but some of her unruly curls tumbled around her face like curly ribbons on a birthday gift. He held his breath as a shard of glass seemed to lodge in his chest. He thought he might go mad with the ache to stroke one of those silky tendrils. She got prettier every time he saw her.
With two aprons and a coat draped over one arm, she put her finger to her lips before he had a chance to speak, tiptoed onto the porch, and shut the door quietly behind her.
“Is everything all right?” he whispered, shoving his hands behind his back to better resist the temptation of her curls.
“Dawdi is not to be disturbed. He woke up at four this morning, milked the cow, and then sat down to read
Charlotte's Web
. I don't think it's going to be a very good day for him.”
“Hopefully
Charlotte's Web
will put him in a better mood.”
Cassie handed him one of the thick canvas aprons she had hanging over her arm. “Are you sure you want to do this? Butchering a pig isn't the most pleasant job in the world.”
He didn't really want to spend his morning butchering a pig, but he did want to learn how to butcher a pig, because it was one of the many things Amish men knew how to do that he did not, and he wanted to show Cassie that he was up for anything. It was a stupid thing to do just to impress a girl, but he was desperate and she wasn't just any girl.
“I dissected plenty of stuff in college. I think I'll be pretty good at it. Besides, I have to prove my manhood to Norman and Luke.”
She giggled. “I don't think your manhood was ever in question.”
“I made the mistake of wearing that pink shirt. Your brothers will need proof before they give me their respect.”
“You're almost half Amish already with all the stuff you've learned.”
He smiled. She'd noticed how good he was at Amish stuff. Maybe he'd made an impression.
Since the haystack supper, he'd been to Huckleberry Hill six times to change the bandage on Anna's foot. He usually came in the evenings after he finished up at the hospital or in the mornings before he did an afternoon shift, and they usually fed him some mouthwatering Amish dish before he left.
Cassie had taught him how to milk a cow. It left his hands almost too stiff to go to work the next morning, but he saw the advantage of it. Milking made his fingers stronger for surgery and eased Felty's burden at the same time.
“The real test will be a barn raising,” Zach said. “That's when I'll know I've really assimilated into the culture.”
Her eyes danced. “Luckily, you have several weeks to prepare for that. We don't usually raise a barn in the dead of winter.”
“But you butcher hogs.”
“The carcass has to cool before we section and cure it. Cold days are the best.”
“Let's get to it, then.”
“Here,” she said, handing him a coat she held with the other apron. “I brought this for you too. It gets messy.”
He took off his ski jacket and draped it and his scarf over the porch railing. Then he put on the old coat and buttoned it up. It smelled like manure. He looped the apron strap over his head and tied the strings around his waist. Cassie did the same with her apron. She looked adorable, like an old-time farmer's wife.
“We've got matching aprons,” he said.
She looked down at her apron as if seeing it for the first time and grinned. “These are two of Mammi's old ones. She stitched the little hearts at the top years ago. Norman and Luke already commandeered the manly ones.”
“Your brothers are going to give me a hard time about the hearts.”
She nodded. “I might have to give Norman the evil eye.”
“Don't worry about it. I can take care of myself.”
“I'm sure you can.” The way she looked at him stole his breath. “But I've got plenty of Kleenex just in case he makes you cry.” She pulled a wad of tissue from her coat pocket.
“You might want to hold on to it in case I make
him
cry.”
Laughter tripped from her lips. “Norman should be shaking in his boots.”
“Yes, he should.”
They cut across the front yard through the snow and trekked behind the barn where Norman and Luke had set up the butchering operation. The pig, who had no idea what was about to befall him, lounged in a temporary pen near the toolshed. A hot fire danced in a fire pit made of cinder blocks and large stones. A sturdy metal grate rested atop the cinder blocks, and a large vat of water, big enough to hold a pig, sat on top of the metal grate. The water inside was already steaming.
Two sturdy beams were anchored into the ground and angled to meet together at the top like two poles of a teepee. One end of a long, thick board rested on the V where the poles met. The other end of the board had been wedged between the meeting point of two branches of an oak tree. Ropes connected to two pulleys dangled from the board.
They had positioned the fire pit alongside the poles and ropes. Almost directly below the ropes sat a makeshift table made from a long plywood plank and two old doors.
Neither of Cassie's brothers glanced up when Zach and Cassie came around to the back. Levi tended to the fire. Norman sharpened a deadly looking knife. They were all business.
Zach's heart fell like a skydiver without a parachute when he saw Cassie's mother standing near the fire, bouncing a baby in her arms. Once she caught sight of Zach, it didn't take her long to fasten a sneer onto her face. At least she was predictable.
Another woman lumbered toward the fire with a load of firewood in her arms while two small children made circles around her like a Maypole. She was young, maybe a few years older than Cassie, with mousy brown hair and a slight limp when she walked.
Zach rushed to her side and took the surprisingly heavy load from her arms. Amish women were probably as sturdy as the men.
“Thank you,” she said, brushing off her hands and giving him a smile. The kindness in her eyes and good sense in her face overshadowed the thin, severe lines of her mouth. “You must be the doctor I've been hearing so much about.”
“What have you heard?”
Her eyes twinkled with amusement. “Only good things, to be sure. Norman says you have a very strong will.” She leaned closer to him and whispered, “That's not exactly how Norman described you, but I drew my own conclusions.”
Zach cocked an eyebrow. “That's very kind of you.”
She kept her voice low. “It doesn't hurt Norman to be put in his place now and then. Keeps him humble.”
“Are you his sister?”
“His wife. And mind you, I love him to death.”
Zach laid the wood on the already tall pile. He never had learned if it was culturally acceptable to shake an Amish woman's hand, but he offered it anyway. “Call me Zach.”
She had a firm handshake. “I'm Linda Coblenz. Nice to meet you. This is my daughter Priscilla and my son Jacob.” She managed to catch both of her squirmy children so that Zach could shake their hands.
Both children stared at Zach as if he were a frightening beast. To a child whose head barely reached the top of his kneecap, he must have looked very tall. He knelt down in the slushy snow and shook both their hands. “Hello,” he said. “How old are you?”
Their mother said something to them in Deitsch. Jacob squeezed his lips together as if no one would ever get a word out of him. Priscilla held up four fingers.
“They don't speak English real good yet,” Linda said. “Priscilla is four and Jacob is three, and Mammi Esther is holding Paul. He is thirteen months.”
Zach turned and waved to Cassie's mamm, flashing his friendliest smile, hoping maybe she'd come to like him if she saw enough of his teeth. She didn't smile, but she flipped her wrist in his direction in a token wave. That was something, wasn't it? Or maybe she was trying to flick him away like a pesky fly.
Norman didn't look up from his whetstone. “It's about time you got here. We were afraid you'd chicken out yet.”
“He's a doctor,” Luke said, reaching across the fire to shake Zach's hand. “He's not afraid of blood.”
“He made a very skillful incision in Mammi's foot,” Cassie said.
Norman examined the edge of his knife. “Elmer Lee would have come, but he had to fix his sister's leaky roof.” He glanced at Zach. “Do you know how to fix a roof, Dr. Reynolds?”
How had Norman managed to tick him off in a few short seconds? “Not a clue.”
Cassie immediately went to work stoking the fire.
“Cassie, haven't you even got time to sew patches over those knee holes?” her mamm asked.
Zach clenched his teeth so hard he thought they might crack. Did Cassie's mother do anything but find fault with her?
“These are my hog-butchering jeans,” Cassie said. “The holes are part of the fun.”
“They look old and ratty. A Plain dress with long stockings would have been warmer.”
Zach was amazed at Cassie's forbearance. She smiled at her mother. “I'll be warm enough.”
Cassie's cousin Titus loped around the corner of the barn with a straw hat sitting crookedly on his head, a black apron already secured around his waist, and a toothpick perched between his lips. “Did I miss it?” he said.
He slowed his pace significantly when Norman looked up and frowned at him. “While you slept in, it took us an hour to fill the water barrel yet.”
Slept in. Only in Amish country would sleeping past six o'clock be considered sleeping in.
Titus's Adam's apple bobbed up and down, and he pressed his lips together. “I'm real sorry I'm late, Norman. I had to milk.”
Norman didn't seem to be all that impressed at Titus's excuse. “Did you bring your scraper?”
Titus's lips stuttered into a doubtful smile as he pulled a strange tool from his apron pocket. It looked like a short-handled metal toilet plunger. “Jah, and Mamm's wire brush.”
Zach didn't want to broadcast his ignorance, but he did want to know what that tool was. He mentally smacked himself for not doing a little research on the Internet last night. “What is that?”
Kneeling next to the fire, Cassie smiled at him. Was she amused or embarrassed by his ignorance? “It's a bell scraper. We use it to scrape the bristles off the hog once it's scalded.”
When he saw the way Cassie's skin glowed from the heat of the fire and the reflection of the flames dancing in her eyes, he found himself wishing that every day were hog-butchering day.
Titus set his bristle scraper on the makeshift table and immediately found little Jacob. Jacob lifted his hands and let Titus swing him around with his legs flying in a circle.
Norman wiped the blade of the knife on his trousers and peered at Zach. “We want you to kill it.”
Zach's gaze darted from Cassie to Norman. “You want me to kill the pig?”
“Jah,” Norman said. “Have you got the stomach for it?”
“I wouldn't want to mess up.” He frowned and studied Cassie's expression. Elmer Lee would certainly know how to do it right. Cassie probably watched Elmer Lee butcher hogs all the time.
“Luke will stun it with a rifle, then you stick the knife into its throat and slice the main blood vessel. Then we bleed it.”
Zach gritted his teeth. Much as it galled him, he'd have to ask Norman for help, which was probably exactly what Norman counted on.
“Show me where to cut,” Zach said. “I don't want to do it wrong.”
Norman smiled or, rather, gloated. Elmer Lee looked like better boyfriend material all the time. “Come on, Luke. Let's show him.”
They walked together to the pen to take a look at the pig. A nice pink porker, probably two hundred and fifty pounds of meat. “You've got hearts on your apron,” Norman said.
“They're nice, aren't they?” Zach said. Did Norman really want to tease him about hearts right now?
Luke followed behind with a hunting rifle. That surprised Zach a little. He didn't think the Amish used guns.
“Luke is going to shoot the pig in the head. That won't kill it, but it will stun it enough so it won't feel a thing. Then we'll roll it onto its back, and I'll show you where to stick the knife so you get it right the first time.”
Didn't sound too bad, at least in theory.
Zach nodded. “Okay. I'm ready.”
Luke checked his rifle. “
Ach
. I don't have a bullet.”
“Luke,” Norman growled, “you're as empty-headed as Titus.”
Cassie threw two more logs into the fire. “Norman, quit picking on Titus. He's a wonderful-gute boy to come and help us butcher the hog.”