“Of course. You want to be sure she's okay.” Cassie ambled to the table and sat down to read with Linda and Priscilla.
“Hey, Mom,” he answered.
“Hey, Zach. Is it too early to call?”
“Mom, it's four a.m. California time. I should be asking you that question.”
“I couldn't sleep,” Mom said.
At four a.m., Mom hadn't called to shoot the breeze. “Is something wrong?”
“Nothing's wrong, but I think I'm going to cry. I got the most wonderful package yesterday, and I just had to call and thank you. You are the best son a mother could ask for. But don't tell Jeff and Drew I said that. They'd be jealous.”
“What package?”
“The paper roses are much prettier than I could have made, even with two hands. You have an incredible list of hidden talents, young man.”
Zach furrowed his brow. “Mom, I have no idea what you're talking about.”
“FedEx delivered a huge box of perfect tissue paper roses yesterday. There's got to be a thousand of them. Just in time for the auxiliary bazaar. A little smashed, but that will be easy to fix. The return address says they were sent from Wisconsin. I thought they were from you.”
“Believe me, Mom, no matter how bad I want to help, paper roses are beyond my ability.”
“Well, who in the world sent them?” Zach could hear rustling as if Mom were rummaging through her box of paper roses for a clue. “There was also a knitted thing at the bottom of the box. It looks like a sleeve to a fuzzy pink sweater.”
Zach felt as if someone smacked him upside the head with a snowball.
“Zach? Are you still there?”
“It's a cast cover.”
“A what?”
“The pink thing is a cast cover, Mom. For your arm.”
“Oh. How cute. Regina and the other ladies will love this.”
He kept his voice low and glanced at Cassie but quickly looked away so she wouldn't know he was talking about her. “I know who sent it.”
“Who was it?”
“Can I call you back?”
Mom never needed an explanation for strange behavior. “Okay. In the meantime, could you get an address for me to send a thank-you note?”
“I love you, Mom.”
“Love you.”
The line clicked dead, but Zach held the phone to his ear as if he were still talking. It gave him a chance to stare at Cassie without needing an excuse to say anything.
Anna had told him she was going to knit a cast cover, but no doubt Cassie, the art history major, was very good at making tissue paper roses. He'd mentioned that his mom needed tissue paper roses. It would have only taken Cassie a few phone calls to figure out exactly what to do.
An invisible hand reached inside his chest and clamped onto his heart. He'd never wanted anything like he wanted Cassie at this very momentâthis beautiful, angelic woman who prayed for him and baked yummasetti and made a thousand paper roses for a person she didn't even know.
He wanted her. Ached for her. And not in the lustful way a guy usually wanted a pretty girlâthough the physical attraction was certainly there. He wanted to sit next to her in the quiet of the evening and watch the sun dip below the trees. He wanted to share a laugh and a bowl of popcorn and grow old with her.
He yearned to be the kind of man she wanted. The kind of man who loved her with a pure heart.
She must have felt his gaze on her because she lifted her eyes to him. He felt like a blind man seeing a sunrise for the first time. The sensation pulsed into his veins with every heartbeat until his whole being flooded with love so profound he thought he might suffocate.
She smiled at him and turned away, trying to give him some privacy for the phone call he wasn't on anymore.
How long had he been holding his breath? Did he even remember how to breathe?
This
was what love was supposed to feel like. The desire to give himself completely to another person, to live and die for her whether or not she returned his love.
He'd shared mutual attraction with the girls he'd dated, a cheap imitation of the real thing, like the difference between rhinestones and diamonds.
He loved Cassie Coblenz. The thought made him feel so light, he could have scored a dozen goals without breaking a sweat. No one would have been able to stop him, not even a bulked-up keeper with a death wish.
Could she ever love him?
His resolve to win her trust took on complete urgency. The goal wasn't just to convince her to go out with him. Now he had to convince her to love him, convince her that he was worthy of her love.
But he wasn't worthy. The list of his flaws would fill a nice-sized bookshelf at the Reg.
The thought only strengthened his resolve. He wasn't worthy
yet
.
If he'd learned anything from medical school, he'd learned that the impossible became possible with grueling hard work and the will to accomplish it.
He'd convince Cassie to love him or break his heart trying.
A knife twisted in his gut when he contemplated what might be at the end of this. Was he fooling himself to think he'd ever be good enough? Or that there weren't a dozen guys right here in Bonduel more virtuous?
It didn't matter. Cassie was worth fighting for, even if he ended up a casualty on the cruel battlefield.
He'd fight for her with every last breath he had.
Anna came rolling down the hall on her handy knee scooter she had borrowed from her grandson Moses. She might as well have been on a skateboard for as fast as she moved. For a woman of eighty-four years, she wasn't very cautious.
Felty came behind her, carrying her latest knitting project and a blanket.
“What happened to my little pumpkin?” Anna said as she rolled all the way to the kitchen. Zach cringed as she nearly crashed into the table before she squeezed the hand brake.
Priscilla held up her bandaged hands for Anna to see and was rewarded with the reaction that every grandchild wishes for. Anna oohed and aahed and clucked her tongue sympathetically, inspiring Priscilla to make little whimpers in proof of how much she suffered.
Anna cupped Priscilla's chin in her hand. “A brave girl like you deserves a cookie and a big glass of chocolate milk. Three cookies. And some graham crackers with frosting. Felty dear, will you bring the cookie jar to the table?”
“If Dr. Reynolds hadn't been here, it would have been much worse,” Cassie said, smiling at Zach from across the room. His pulse had never raced so fast.
Anna turned her twinkly eyes to Zach. “Doctor, this is working out better than even I could have seen. You deserve a cookie too. Cassie made snickerdoodles.”
“I love snickerdoodles,” he said. And Cassie. He loved Cassie.
“You can have four,” Anna said.
“Mammi, you really should be off your feet,” Cassie said. “I'll hand out cookies.”
Anna made a wide turn with her scooter and rolled in the direction of the recliner. “Be sure the doctor gets as many as he wants.”
Even though she could have probably done a dozen pull-ups, Zach reached out and helped Anna settle into the recliner. Felty handed her the knitting and laid the blanket over her legs. “Snug as a bug in a rug,” she said, giving Zach's wrapped hand a squeeze. He tried not to wince. “Doctor, you are a gift straight from heaven.”
Titus opened the door, stamped the snow off his boots, and came into the house. He immediately went to the table and laid a hand on Priscilla's shoulder. “How is she?”
Linda gave Priscilla a pat in the cheek. “The doctor says she is going to be okay.”
Titus knelt down to be eye level with Priscilla. He patted her on the head and said something to her in Deitsch.
Linda frowned. “It's not your fault, Titus. She knows to stay away from the fire.”
“I shouldn't have pretended to be a bear. If I'd known how terrifying I was, I would have been a bunny. Priscilla wouldn't have run from a bunny.”
“Accidents happen,” Felty said, as he picked up his book from the end table and sat down to read. “Especially when you're doing you-know-what.”
Titus shifted the toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other. “Norman says I'm a walking accident. But he didn't make me cry this time.”
Cassie handed Titus a snickerdoodle. “You're the kindest, best cousin anyone could ever ask for. Most boys your age completely ignore the
kinner
. You play with them. You're everybody's favorite.”
Linda put her hands over Priscilla's ears. “Norman needs to mind his manners.”
Zach would have liked to teach him some manners right now.
Titus's toothpick drooped until Zach was sure it would fall out of his mouth. “Norman never did like me much. I think
Aendi
Esther agrees with him.”
Felty stared at his book as if he could read and talk at the same time. “Esther's had a bee in her bonnet ever since she was little. Don't pay her any mind, Titus. She has a heart of gold.”
“But she likes Elmer Lee,” Titus said. “She smiled real wide at him when he got here. Did you know she's missing a tooth in the back?”
Cassie seemed to snap to attention. “Elmer Lee is here?”
Zach tensed. Cassie claimed to have no interest in Elmer Lee, but Elmer Lee was an Amish guy, and whether she wanted to admit it or not, Cassie found Amish guys fascinating. She thought they were the only “good” men in the entire world. Who knew what other powers of persuasion Elmer Lee had? He could probably lift tree trunks and anvils with his bare hands and climb windmills in a single bound.
“Elmer Lee stuck the pig since the doctor wasn't there to do it.”
“I don't need to hear that,” Felty said.
Great.
Elmer Lee had come just in time to save the day. Zach could hear Norman already.
Finally, somebody who knows how to do something useful. Someone worthy of my sister. Somebody who knows how to stick pigs and fixes roofs for widows and orphans.
Zach kind of wanted to throw up. He was completely out of his element.
Titus took a bite of his cookie with the toothpick still at the corner of his lips. His chewing didn't seem to disturb the toothpick at all. Had Titus ever swallowed one of his beloved toothpicks? “Aunt Esther is keeping a tight hold of the baby and won't let Jacob near the fire. They sent me to check on Priscilla and fetch the rest of you out to scrape the hog carcass.”
Cassie scooted her chair from under the table. “Linda should stay with Priscilla, and Dr. Reynolds's hands are injured, but I'll come out.”
Zach studied Cassie's face. Was she eager to see Elmer Lee or just eager to help?
Zach heard a faint crack as Titus's toothpick snapped in two. A deep line appeared between his eyebrows. “Norman says not to come until you're dressed Plain. He says as long as you're staying with Mammi and Dawdi, you should show them respect by honoring our ways.”
Cassie seemed to freeze in her tracks. “Oh. I see.”
Linda heaved a sigh but didn't say anything.
Titus laced his fingers together and bowed his head sheepishly. “Aunt Esther says to wear the dress she made you, and Elmer Lee says he'd really like to see you in pink.”
Zach couldn't help himself. He muttered between his teeth. “Did Luke have anything to say on the matter?”
“He needs a Band-Aid,” Titus said.
At least one of Cassie's brothers was staying out of it.
Titus pulled the toothpick from his mouth. Zach got the feeling that he only did that when something was particularly important. “I apologize, Cassie. I promised I'd deliver the message.”
Anna pointed a knitting needle at Titus as if she wanted to skewer him. “For goodness' sake, Titus, go tell Norman to get off his high horse.”
Titus seemed momentarily confused. “He's not on a horse. He's got his boots ankle-deep in mud.”
Linda lifted Priscilla off her lap and stood up. “I'll go help, Cassie. You can read Priscilla another book.”
Cassie held up her hand. “It's okay, Linda. Priscilla needs you, and it won't be long before the baby will want to eat. I'll change into the pink.”
The muscles in Zach's neck tightened until he thought he might pop an important blood vessel. Cassie had to walk by him to go to her room to dress. It was all he could do to keep from stopping her, to keep from telling her that she didn't have to give in to Norman's demands. Norman was a bully, and Cassie willingly handed control over to him.
But if he stopped her from going, wouldn't that make him just like Norman? He had as little right to boss Cassie around as Norman did.
Zach pressed his lips together and watched Cassie walk down the hall and into her room and shut the door behind her. He wanted to growl. Or pop Norman in the mouth with his fist.
Standing there staring at Cassie's bedroom door, he resolved to do two things: Win Cassie's heart and put Norman in his place.
He'd look forward to both tasks.
Chapter Fourteen
“Well, I'm glad you're not dead.”
“Sorry I didn't call sooner, Mom. It was a sixteen-hour shift and then I came home and crashed.”
“I'm relieved to know you didn't die.”
Zach flexed the hand where the worst burns were. He wouldn't have believed it if he hadn't experienced it personally, but he'd barely noticed the pain during his shift. He hadn't been able to do much with the awkward gauze pads getting in the way while he treated patients, so he'd taken them off and used his hands as much as ever. He'd wrapped up the blisters on his fingers so they wouldn't burst, but he had needed his hands free. It had been almost as if he hadn't burned himself at all. Had it been due to Cassie's prayer?
Whatever the reason, he was grateful for the sixteen-hour reprieve, because the red welts across his palms were starting to sting as if someone had swiped a barbed whip across them.
“Zach? You okay?”
“Kind of. I burned my hands yesterday.”
“How bad?” Mom said, switching into her concerned mother voice.
“Second-degree. Nothing serious, but it really hurts.”
“Have you got some aloe vera? Or lavender oil is even better. Should I send you some?” That was his mom. Tell her your problem, she'd tried to solve it for you, even from two thousand miles away.
“I'll see what I can find at the health food store.”
“Is there a health food store in Shawano?”
“I don't know.”
She grunted. “Now you're just humoring me.”
“Mom, can I ask you a question?”
She must have sensed the subtle change in his voice. “Anything, sweetheart. What is it?”
“Do you remember when you dragged me to that musical when I was in high school?”
“Which one? As I recall, I dragged you to several musicals as my date.”
Zach sat on the sofa and concentrated on what he wanted to say. Was it weird to talk to his mom about this? “The one about Don Quixote?”
“
Man of La Mancha
?”
“That sounds right,” Zach said. “I don't know why I remember this, but in one of the songs he talks about reaching the unreachable star, or something like that. Does that sound familiar at all?”
“Zach, it's only one of the most famous songs in all of musical theater history.”
“Whatever.”
Mom squeaked as if she'd been stuck by a pin. “Whatever? I've failed as a mother.”
Zach smiled. “You paid for braces and made tacos every Sunday night. You did okay.”
“The name of the song is âThe Impossible Dream.'” She started humming it over the phone.
He let her finish the whole song. “Lovely, Mom.”
“Thank you.”
“So there's a part in that song that says, â
This is my quest, to love pure and chaste from afar.
'”
“Yes.”
“Do you think it's possible to do that? For someone like me, I mean?”
Silence on the other end. Had she stepped away from the phone to have a heart attack?
“Mom?”
“You've met somebody.” Did he detect a tinge of eagerness in her voice?
“I love her, Mom.”
Again with the silence. Was his being in love some sort of earth-shattering event?
Yeah.
“Mom?”
“I'm trying not to overreact,” she said.
“You're afraid if you act too happy, you'll spook me?”
She laughed. “I don't want you to get the impression that I've been praying for this for months and months.”
“Why would I ever suspect that?”
“What's her name?” Mom said. “Give me all the details.”
“She's the one who made you all those flowers.”
“I love her already.”
He heard the grinding sound of the old pencil sharpener. “Mom, you're not taking notes, are you?”
“Of course. To tell the ladies at the auxiliary.”
“Not a word, Mom.”
“I'm teasing, Zach. I wouldn't gossip about something this important. But I am taking notes. I don't want to forget anything. What's her name, and do you know how to spell it?”
Zach chuckled. “Her name is Cassie.”
“Is it short for anything, like Cassandra?”
Zach brushed the back of his hand back and forth across the whiskers on his chin. “Cassandra doesn't seem like an Amish name.”
More silence. She was probably choking.
“She isn't Amish anymore,” Zach interjected, before Mom suffocated. “But her whole family's Amish. And she's very religious and, okay, virtuous, and okay, Mom, I might as well come out and say it. I'm wondering if a guy like me could ever hope to deserve her, especially since she's a virgin and I'm not.”
Zach could almost see Mom's eyebrows fly off her face in the silence on the other end of the line. “Did you strain any muscles trying to get all that out?” she said.
“Come on. It's a little awkward confessing my sins to my mom.”
“You think I didn't already know?” Mom said.
“Well, yeah. I knew you knew, but saying it is kind of embarrassing. It doesn't matter. I need your advice.”
“Your dad was always better at stuff like this.”
The scorching memory at the mere mention of Dad usually had Zach panting for air in a matter of seconds. But tonight, he thought of long talks in the garage working on the Honda and dark nights under the stars solving the world's problems with his dad and a jumbo package of hot dogs. The hundred-percent-beef kind.
They were good memories. Cassie said Dad wanted him to be happy and God did too. For some reason, he almost believed it.
“I'm not very good at dispensing advice,” Mom said. “Do I understand you right? You want to prove yourself to this girl, show her a pure and chaste heart, like in the song?”
“Yeah, and she thinks that the only thing I want from her is to get her into bed.” His head felt heavy just thinking about it.
“You didn't try that, did you?”
“Give me some credit, Mom.” His confidence plummeted. If his own mother assumed the worst, what chance did he have with Cassie?
“I give you all the credit in the world,” she said. “You're my son. The fact that we're having this conversation is a sign of your good heart.”
Zach leaned back against the sofa cushion. “I don't know how to make her love me.”
“You can be your own wonderful self.”
“It's not enough. She knew me in college.”
“You can't do anything about your past except learn from it. If she's truly a Christian, then she knows people can change. And you know it too. I took you to church for seventeen years. Something should have sunk in.”
“Should I tell her?”
“Tell her what?”
“That there will be no touching, no hand-holding, and no kissing until I've won her heart. Like, âHey, Cassie, have you noticed how I'm trying to love you pure and chaste from afar?'”
“It sounds a little odd when you put it like that.”
“Okay. I won't tell her. I'll show her. I'm going to prove to her that I love her enough to control my passions, because my greatest desire is to be with her.”
Mom sighed. “That is so romantic.”
“I don't know if it's romantic, but it's the truth.”
“You could sing her that song.”
Zach rolled his eyes. “Oh, yeah, because that's not odd.”
Her voice got quiet all of a sudden. “Thank you for going to musicals with me. I know it was pure torture.”
“I did it because I love you. I don't regret a single one. Except maybe
Oklahoma
âthe stupidest play ever written.”
“You're bordering on sacrilege there, young man,” she said.
“As long as you still love me, I don't care.”
“I love you forever.”
“You too, Mom.”