Chapter Twenty
“A few more weeks in this recliner, Anna, and you'll be up and running around this place like a track star,” Zach said as he snapped the gloves off his hands and threw them in his bag.
Mammi's eyes twinkled. Zach's visits were her favorite part of the day. They were becoming Cassie's favorite part of the day too. “I never was a gute runner. My legs are too stubby yet. But I'm also closer to the ground so I don't fall as easy as the tall people. You're tall, Doctor. You probably fall down all the time.”
Zach nodded. “It hurts worse because it's such a long way down.”
Cassie stood at the counter rolling her cookies in cinnamon and sugar before popping them into the oven. Zach liked cinnamon, and she wanted him to have some cookies to take to the hospital with him tonight. He came to the sink and washed his hands, smiling as if just standing near her were a treat. Why did that smile make her blush through seven layers of skin?
Dawdi came shuffling down the hall, singing the wrong words to one of his favorite songs like he often did. Dawdi had thousands of tunes stored in his memory, but when he didn't remember the words, he simply made up his own. “
God, make my life a little flower, that bringeth smiles to all, I'm happy blooming in the bower, although the garden's small
.” He carried his snow boots in one hand and two long, polished sticks in the other. “How does Anna's foot look, Doctor?”
“The skin graft is taking well,” Zach said.
“It's because I had a handsome surgeon,” Mammi said. “Don't you agree, Cassie?”
“I don't know that Dr. Reynolds's good looks had much to do with your surgery, Mammi.”
Zach raised an eyebrow. “You think I'm good-looking?”
How many more layers of skin were there to blush down to? “I never said that.”
Zach chuckled at Cassie's discomfort before turning to Mammi. “Your foot is looking better and better all the time.”
After propping the sticks against the wall, Dawdi sat on the sofa to put on his boots. “And you're looking worse and worse, Doctor. I thought you was wearing a mask when you first came in.”
“I get lots of attention at the hospital, mostly from horrified patients.”
“And you say your friend elbowed you in the face?” Dawdi said in amused disbelief.
“We had a wrestling match. It was an accident.”
Cassie would never understand the male need to get down on the ground for a friendly game of Shove Your Opponent's Face into the Dirt, even though her brothers used to wrestle all the time when they were younger. Zach acted as if he didn't mind the two black eyes, but she felt sorry for him all the same. His nose was still a bit swollen, and it looked like it really hurt.
Dawdi finished lacing up his snow boots. “I'll be back,” he said, grabbed his sticks, and then bent over and kissed Mammi on the cheek.
“Where are you going, Dawdi?”
“I'm going out among the maples to see if the air is right for the sap to start running.”
“Felty dear, it's nearly dark,” Mammi scolded. “Even using those canes, you'll trip over a rock and die in the woods, and I won't be able to come look for you because the doctor says I should stay off my foot.”
“These aren't canes. Canes are for old people,” Dawdi said. “These are walking sticks.”
How old would Dawdi have to get before he considered himself an old person?
“I ain't never tripped yet with my walking sticks. But if I die, you can send Cassie out to find my body. I want to be dressed in the blue shirt for my funeral.”
“I'll go with you and bring your body back if necessary,” Zach said, flashing that playful grin. “I want to learn how to tell if the air is right for maple syrup.”
Dawdi pulled his coat from the hook. “It's tricky, especially for someone like me who doesn't have much of a sense of smell. You can tell the sap is running by the faint scent of spring in the air.”
“What does spring smell like?” Zach asked.
“I can't describe it, but you'll know it when you smell it. I've learned to feel it in my bones.”
Cassie smiled. Dawdi's extra sense worked better than a thermometer.
Mammi shifted in her recliner to get a better look at Dawdi. “You'd better take Cassie with you. Dr. Reynolds has nice hair and looks very strong, but if you die, he'll need Cassie to keep him from getting lost in the woods.”
Zach seemed to think it was a very good idea. “I'd totally get lost.”
“What about my cookies?” Cassie said, wanting someone to talk her into going. A moonlight stroll in the crunchy snow with Zach Reynolds sounded like a wonderful scheme.
And when had she become this captivated by the doctor?
Mammi picked up her knitting. “You can bake them when you get back. They'll keep.”
That was all the persuasion Cassie needed. She rinsed her hands and practically lunged for her coat on the hook. She stepped out of her shoes and into her boots that sat next to the door. Zach donned his coat and laced up his snow boots. He needed them so often here that he had made it a habit of bringing them just in case.
Cassie and Zach put on their matching scarves, and Zach slid his homemade beanie onto his head. Cassie loved that he loved that beanie. It made Mammi so happy to see him wear it.
They trudged out into the snow, which was thinning at the edges of the lawn like a receding hairline. Dawdi led the way down the snow-covered path that took them deeper into the woods. Zach gave Cassie the flashlight and motioned for her to go ahead of him. “I'll watch for bears and mountain lions and catch you in case you fall backward.”
A smile tugged at Cassie's lips. Who said chivalry was dead? Should she take so much pleasure in the fact that Zach wanted to watch out for her? “You think I'm going to fall?” she asked, glancing back at him as if he'd insulted her entire family.
He chuckled. “I'm the novice with this whole Amish thing. Maybe it's
my
body you'll have to drag out of the woods.”
“You're pretty heavy. I'd have to call that new Florida guy at church to come help me.”
She heard him growl behind her. “The guy who doesn't exist.”
“He's strong enough to carry you all by himself.”
“Over my dead body.” Zach stomped his feet extra hard behind her.
“Yes, that's the idea,” Cassie said.
“I want to be buried in my pink shirt.”
Cassie giggled. “If I die, whatever you do, do not let Mamm bury me in that pink dress.”
“I love that pink dress.”
“Don't you dare.” Cassie tried to point the flashlight so that Dawdi could see by its light. He didn't seem to need it. He must have known exactly where he wanted to go. “How far are we going, Dawdi?” she asked. Surely the air five minutes from the house was just as suitable as the air three miles from the house.
Dawdi turned to look at Cassie and Zach. “I think we need a little more time and a little more moonlight.”
Cassie tried to find the moon through the bare trees. It peeked over the horizon to the east.
“We could try the clearing by the big boulder.”
“Jah, we might do that,” Dawdi said, poking the snow with one of his walking sticks. “It has to be the perfect spot.” Dawdi smiled at Cassie as if he knew something she didn't and plunged headlong into the woods. Cassie had to take long strides to keep up. With those walking sticks, Dawdi could have given a few soccer players a run for their money.
She turned back and gave Zach an apologetic look. He probably hadn't bargained for an all-night trek through the woods. He smiled at her as if he were having the best time of his life. Was there ever a moment when he wasn't having the best time of his life?
“This cold air is really clearing out my sinuses,” he said. “Maybe I'll be able to smell whatever it is I'm supposed to smell.”
“Dawdi might lead us into Canada before he's satisfied.”
“Is my nose still okay?” he asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Does it look more or less crooked than before I broke it this time?”
Cassie pointed the flashlight in Zach's face. He spread his hands in front of his eyes and shrieked. “I can't see. Help me, help me. I'm blind.”
She rolled her eyes and lowered her flashlight so it pointed at his chest. “Those black eyes truly are nasty.”
“But what about my nose?”
“It's a little swollen and has some discoloration, but it looks about the same level of crookedness to me.”
He furrowed his brow. “Are you sure? Because girls really like my crooked nose.”
She laughed and started walking again. “Do they?”
He jogged to keep up with her. “Do you think my crooked nose is attractive?”
Very attractive, like the rest of him. “You look like you've been in a fight or two.”
“But do you like it?”
“You should never be ashamed of your deformities,” she said, flashing him a playful grin.
He threw back his head and laughed. “My deformities? How many do I have?”
“It doesn't matter. What matters is that you love yourself and never let someone like Norman destroy your self-esteem.”
“Too late,” he said. “You've completely destroyed it.” He stepped in front of her and walked backward, grinning like a cat. “Then again, in the house you said I was good-looking.”
She kept on walking as she felt the blush travel up her face. “I must have been delirious.”
She tried to walk past him, but he stepped in her way so she couldn't get around. “But seriously, what do you think about the nose?”
She stopped walking again and smiled at him in surrender. “It's the same level of crookedness, and it looks very handsome on your face, as you well know.”
His grin couldn't have gotten any wider. “I'm glad it's not more crooked. The girls would have been falling at my feet.”
Cassie laughed at his mock relief. “How horrible for you.” She glanced down the path. Dawdi was far ahead. “Dawdi, wait for us.”
Her clunky boots made it hard to match Dawdi's quick pace. Had he forgotten they were behind him? Even though she held the flashlight, she stubbed her toe on something dark and large in her path and tripped spectacularly. More quickly than she would have thought possible, Zach snaked his arm around her waist and pulled her up before her face met the snow.
“Are you okay?” he said as he pressed her close to him, making sure she landed securely on her feet.
Firmly in his grasp, she turned to look at him and found his face within inches of hers. She felt his warm breath on her cheek and his muscled, tensed arm against her back. In the dim light cast by the flashlight, she could see a look of pure shock overspread his features, as if saving her from a mouthful of snow was not at all what he had expected.
Almost immediately, the shock gave way to some deeper emotion. He held his breath and stared at her lips as if he were starving. She could feel the tension in his arm, see it in the muscles of his neck, and sense it in the beating of his heart so close to hers. Her own heart thudded against her chest like a bass drum, and the forest seemed to stand still. She would have been perfectly happy if they had been the only two people in the whole world.
“You smell like cinnamon,” he whispered.
“You smell like . . .” That was all she could manage from her muddled brain.
He leaned closer. Was he going to kiss her?
Oh sis yuscht.
Her heart raced so fast, it could have won the Kentucky Derby.
Just as she thought she might be prepared for a kiss, a soft groan came from deep in his throat, and without warning, he released her. He took a giant step backward. “Your dawdi is a fast walker,” he said, taking a deep breath.
The forest seemed to spin briefly before everything righted itself. She let out the air that had been imprisoned in her lungs, and a profound ache grew in a forgotten corner of her heart at the realization that for the hundredth time since she'd been in Bonduel, he had avoided her very touch. She thought about the day of Mammi's surgery. He had shaken her hand as if he'd been forced to pet a snake. He must have found her repulsive indeed if a mere handshake made him cringe.
The blood in her veins thickened into molasses, and her heartbeat felt more like the dull thud of a sledgehammer than the drumbeat of a love song. “Thank . . . thank you. I didn't think I would trip.”
“You're okay now.”
“Jah. Yes, I'm okay now,” she lied. When he had let go of her, she felt as if he had taken the sun with him. She craved the warmth of his embrace and the comfort she knew she would find in his arms.
A shiver of longing trickled down her spine. What was she thinking? Zach Reynolds had been the star of the university soccer team. He was a doctor with a degree from a prestigious medical school, and one of the funniest, kindest guys she'd ever met.
He'd asked her out once, but he'd never consider asking her out again. She was a mousy art history major, easily overlooked in a roomful of women. Her heart sank. He might have been her friend because of Mammi, but she was the last person Zach Reynolds would ever want to date.
They had long since lost Dawdi. They stood alone and separate as if they'd become strangers in a matter of seconds. Their breath hung in the crisp February air, and with the trees stripped of leaves, the forest seemed empty, barren like a cold desert crammed with stone pillars that stretched in homage to the sky. Zach seemed dazed, as if someone had conked him in the head with a two-by-four.