“Okay.”
Just don't ask me out. If you ask me out I'll have to refuse you again, and I'd really rather not ramp up the awkwardness between us.
He lifted his head and studied her face. “While I drove up here in between moments of sheer panic on the icy roads, I remembered something that happened this morning.” He massaged the stubble on his jaw. “You knew my last name before I told you.”
Cassie's throat dried out like a puddle in the desert. She lowered her eyes and gazed at the same footprint Zach had been so interested in. “I don't remember that.”
“You also knew that I'm from California. I don't think I shared that piece of information with you earlier.” He propped his foot on the bumper of his car and leaned his elbow on his leg. “Miss Coblenz, will you look at me?”
She didn't want to have this conversation. She just wanted him to go. No confrontation, no discomfort. It would be easier if they could both pretend nothing had happened. But it wasn't likely he'd let her get away with “easier.” Reluctantly she raised her eyes to his.
“I'm looking,” she said.
“Your mammi said you went to UChicago.”
She nodded.
“We had some sort of encounter there, didn't we? I don't know why I don't remember you. I can't imagine ever forgetting your face. But you remember me. I probably did something vile, and you've carried it with you all these years.” His intense gaze pierced hers until she thought she might melt.
He took a step back and curled one side of his mouth upward. “Or maybe you've seen me play soccer and think I'm a terrible player. Is that why you didn't want to give me your phone number?”
“You're an . . . excellent player. Like a brick wall in the backfield.”
“I'm making you uncomfortable.”
“It doesn't matter.”
He winced. “How can you say it doesn't matter? I've completely ruined my chances with the most beautiful, fascinating girl I've ever met, and I don't even know why.”
She tightened his coat around her. Oh, how she hated confrontation. She'd rather spell it out in a nice long letter than say anything to his face. “Can I send you an email?”
He slumped his shoulders and frowned as if his mom had broken her leg as well as her arm. “That bad, huh?”
She swallowed hard. She should give him a chance to defend himself, even though there wasn't any possible justification for what he'd done. It would be pretty mean to make him wait for an email.
“My freshman year. Your senior year,” she stammered. “My roommate Tonya helped Finn McEwan get elected president of your little club.”
He drew his eyebrows together. “My little club?”
“You premeds thought it was so fun, and I'm sure you had plenty of laughs over it, but a lot of girls got hurt.”
Even in the dim light of the lantern, she could see a scowl form at the corners of his mouth. “Did you . . . you and Finn . . . ?”
Her stomach clenched when she realized what he was asking. “Me? Never. How could you think . . . ?”
“I'm sorry. I didn't mean toâ”
“Yes, you did mean to.” Cassie trembled with indignation. “Finn was a jerk. Tonya was devastated, and Finn only cared about the points. Tonya cried her eyes out while you stood there and yelled at us.”
She pursed her lips together. Had she really been so bold as to say exactly what she was thinking? The doctor would probably be so offended that he'd jump in his car and drive down that hill so fast he'd break the sound barrier.
Deep lines etched themselves on his face. “When did I yell at you?”
“Girls aren't people to you. They're objects to be used for bragging rights. It's despicable.”
“Girls were lining up to be in the club.” Zach yanked the beanie off his head and ran his fingers through his hair. “I can't believe I'm defending Finn McEwan, but believe me, the girls were not the victims. They wouldn't stop calling him. It shocked me at how many willing girls he recruited.”
Cassie turned away from him. “Shocked? Really? And how many girls did you recruit?”
Zach growled in frustration. “Finn McEwan was anâokay, Finn was a jerk. He was my roommate, but we weren't friends. I'm no saint, Miss Coblenz, but I was never a part of that club.”
She didn't know if she believed him or not. Why should he be any different than all the other college boys she knew?
Sensing her skepticism, Zach lowered his voice and leaned toward her. “My mom wouldn't have liked it.” He tensed the muscles of his jaw. “Which isn't to say that my mom would like a lot of things I do, but Finn's club was way out of line.”
Cassie deflated like a balloon and leaned on the hood of her car. “Oh.”
He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. “And you've hated me ever since?”
Her chest felt heavy, and she found it an effort to breathe. “I guess I made some unfair assumptions about you. I should have kept my mouth shut.”
He folded his arms across his chest. “I'm glad you said something. It's better than being rejected and not ever knowing why.”
“But what do you think of me now, a woman who professes to be a Christian but can't even forgive you for something you did four years ago?”
“Something I
didn't
do four years ago.”
“Exactly,” she said.
“What do I think of you? I think you have really pretty eyes.”
She ignored the quickening of her pulse. That was unprofessional and uncalled for and he had completely sidestepped her question.
He furrowed his brow. “Tell me about the time I yelled at you.”
“It doesn't matter.”
“Uh-uh. Don't rob me of the chance to apologize.”
She sighed in surrender. “It was our fault anyway. We shouldn't have come over.”
“No one deserves to be yelled at unless the house is on fire,” he said.
“Tonya asked me to go to your apartment with her so she could talk to Finn. We stood out on the doorstep in the rain while Tonya begged Finn to take her back. He was pretty cold about it. Tonya made enough noise that you came to the door and started yelling at her to shut up. She was desperate, and I was humiliated. I had to pry her fingers from the doorjamb so you could close it.”
“At least I didn't slam her fingers in the door.” He smiled weakly at his own joke and then sobered. “I don't remember yelling at you, but I'm sorry.”
“It was four years ago. I should be over it by now.”
Frowning, he scrubbed his hand down the side of his face. “I must have made quite an impression on you. This really isn't a good reason, but I lost patience with more than one of Finn's girls. I was already annoyed with him for starting that stupid club, and I had a hard time studying with girls coming around all hours day or night, either wanting in on the club or whining that Finn had used them.”
Cassie nibbled on her fingernail. “I suppose I remember it so well because it was my first taste of what the outside world is really like. I was fresh from Bonduel with the silly notion that people believed in things like virtue and purity and self-control.”
“A lot of people believe in those things.”
“In college, it was hard to find anybody who believed in those things. By my third year, I wasn't shocked by much of anything.”
“So I destroyed your faith in mankind?”
She looked away. “Not single-handedly, no.”
He furrowed his brow. “Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”
“It's not your fault. It's not even Finn's fault. I made the choice to leave the protection of my community. I can't return to blissful ignorance, no matter how badly I'd like to. And sometimes I sorely wish I could.”
She had definitely said too much. He looked at her as if he knew her, as if they shared some intimate connection that only friends could understand. No matter how polite or handsome or sensitive he seemed to be, Cassie didn't want to be friends with Zach Reynolds. Even though she liked him better than she had just a few minutes ago, she knew he'd only disappoint her in the end. They always did. “You're shivering,” she said, sliding his coat off her shoulders. The cold air immediately attacked her and chilled her to the bone. “You should put your coat on.”
He refused to take it from her outstretched hand. “You wear it. I'm trying to keep you out here talking as long as I can.”
“It will be a very one-sided conversation if you freeze to death.”
“A small price to pay for your company.” His grin froze when his eyes met hers. “On the other hand, I probably should get going. I've got an eight o'clock patient tomorrow.”
Had she hurt his feelings? Not likely for a guy like Dr. Reynolds. But she had shaken his aggravating confidence. The doctor was very good at picking up on her nonverbal cues, and she appreciated that he wasn't the pushy type, at least as far as she was concerned. How many guys at school even knew how to take “no” for an answer?
He took his coat, put it on, and pulled his keys from the pocket. “Thanks for feeding me.”
“Thank you for dropping by to see my mammi. She acts cheerful enough, but I know she's worried. She probably mentioned your name a dozen times after we came home from the hospital. She has a lot of confidence in you.” She let a wisp of a smile play at her lips just so he knew there were no hard feelings. “And so do I.”
Her praise seemed to make him happier than a whole plate of fried chicken. “I'm glad to hear it. I'll do my best to live up to it.” He took the lantern from the roof of his car, handed it to her, and unlocked his car door manually with the key. His automatic lock was probably broken like hers. It had been that way for years.
“You locked your car? In Bonduel, Wisconsin?”
He gave her a wry grin. “Old habit. I'm from California, remember?”
“If you start to slide, turn your tires in the direction the back of your car is sliding. That might help you arrive without wrapping yourself around a tree.”
“Fifi.”
She arched an eyebrow.
“That's what I named my car,” he said.
“Mine's The Beast.”
He rested his arm on top of his open car door. “Fifi and The Beast. Sounds like a grunge band.”
“Or a Disney movie.”
He chuckled. “Is your key the basic kind like mine?”
She took her key chain out of her coat pocket and jangled it in front of his face. “The automatic lock doesn't work anymore.”
“Me too. How have we survived this long?”
The keys slipped from her hands and into the snow. Dr. Reynolds bent over and picked them up then paused to examine the acrylic charm dangling from the ring. “What's this?”
“Oh, nothing. Proof that I'm an art history geek. It's a painting by George Frederic Watts.”
The doctor held it up for a better look. “A knight in shining armor.”
“Sir Galahad. One of my favorites. Watts captures the essence of Tennyson's poem. âMy strength is as the strength of ten because my heart is pure.'” She cleared her throat and took the keys from his outstretched hand. No need to bore Dr. Reynolds to death. “I should be going in now.”
The doctor smiled. “See you on Saturday, Miss Coblenz.”
Rational or not, she found herself looking forward to it. He shut the door and started his car, which made the same high-pitched squeaky groan that Cassie's did when she started hers.
She had no problem with Dr. Reynolds coming to the auction on Saturday. He was charming and funny, and her expectations were so low that he couldn't possibly disappoint her. Besides, he was coming because Mammi wanted him to, not Cassie. She might be able to spend much of the day at the auction without his really noticing her.
She marched to the house with all due speed. Something told her that she wouldn't escape his notice that easily. Her rebellious heart pounded with anticipation.
Chapter Seven
Cassie lifted her arms and pulled the dress over her head. All things considered, it wasn't too bad. Mamm, in a flurry of excited meddling, had brought it over yesterday. She had told Cassie that she wanted her to be in Plain dress for the auction so as not to shame the family. That was most of the truth. The other part of it was that Mamm still held out hope that Cassie would fall in love with an Amish boy, specifically Elmer Lee Kanagy, and return to the fold so she could marry him.
Cassie sighed. Sooner or later Mamm would have to come to grips with the fact that Cassie wasn't coming back. But not today. Mamm had sewn Cassie a new dress. Cassie could humor her mother for a few weeks. It didn't hurt anybody for Cassie to wear the dress, and Mamm would sleep a thousand times better tonight because of it.
The new dress was of the Plain style, with hem well past the knees, fabric cut high at the neck with no buttons, long sleeves, and a loose waistband. Simple, as expected. But her mother had actually taken her by surprise with her choice of color.
The dress was pink. Pretty, pastel, baby-soft pink.
In other circumstances, her mother would have called it a “peacock” dress, but she had let slip yesterday that Elmer Lee loved seeing girls in pink. No doubt Mamm hadn't been able to resist.
Cassie used several extra bobby pins to secure her hair into a bun. It was harder to keep in place cut this short. She slid the crisp white kapp, another gift from Mamm, over her hair and deftly secured it with straight pins. She didn't own a pair of sensible black shoes like so many Amish women wore, so she opted for black stockings and her black flats with the silver buckle on the toe. She looked Plain enough. Lord willing, no one would be offended by her shoes.
Except Mamm. Sometimes Cassie's very existence offended her mother.
She took one last look at herself in the round hand mirror that Mammi kept in the top drawer. It was about the diameter of a DVD. Even though the Plain people considered it vain, Cassie definitely preferred the full-length Englisch mirrors, where she could actually see all of her face at the same time.
She didn't look awful. Dr. Reynolds probably wouldn't consider her repulsive. Why did her pulse quicken at the very thought of Dr. Reynolds and his boyish grin? She had no interest whatsoever in impressing Zach Reynolds.
He wouldn't look twice at a girl in plain Amish clothes, even if her dress happened to be pink. He probably had a preference for sequins, glitter, and conspicuous cleavage. Why he'd even been interested in asking her out in the first place was a mystery. She wasn't exactly the flashy type.
She heard someone knock on the door and scolded herself when her heart clattered around in her chest and a ribbon of warmth snaked its way up her spine. It wasn't as if she'd never seen a good-looking guy before.
“Come in,” she heard her mammi call from the recliner.
Cassie strolled down the hall into the great room. It hadn't taken Mammi long to create her own little space around Dawdi's recliner. Early in the week, Cassie had pushed the end table closer to the recliner so Mammi would have a place for her medicines, a glass of water, and a plate of cookies in case she got hungry. Cassie had made a big batch of oatmeal raisin cookies this morning, and Mammi had a generous plateful ready at her left.
A bag of yarn sat at Mammi's feet, within reach in case Mammi needed to snatch another color. To Mammi's right, also within easy reach, Dawdi had set up a wobbly card table for all of Mammi's knitting projects. A pair of needles stuck out of the beginnings of a blanket, and a skein of salmon-colored yarn waited to be made into a pair of baby booties. Mammi didn't seem to mind all the time off her feet because it gave her a chance to get caught up and even ahead on her knitting.
And then there was that box of tissue paper hiding behind the recliner for a special project Cassie and Mammi were working on together.
Cassie walked past Mammi, who was working on pot holders for her closet. She often gave visitors a pot holder or two when they came over as a way of being extra hospitable. Since every visitor got a pot holder, Mammi constantly had to replenish the supply in her closet.
“
Ach, du lieva
. Oh, my goodness,” Mammi said. “Cassie, you look as pretty as an orchard full of cherry blossoms.”
“Yes, you do,” Dr. Reynolds said. He'd let himself in and was leaning against the doorjamb sporting a dazzling smile. The room seemed to brighten like the sun peeking out from behind the clouds.
Cassie almost fanned herself to keep the blush from traveling up her face. The doctor really shouldn't look at girls that way. It made them feel goofy and stupid and rendered them incapable of forming a complete sentence. “Hello . . . are you . . . the welcome . . . auction.”
He stepped into the room and shut the door behind him without taking his eyes from Cassie. “You are . . .” He stared at her for about five years as if he were stunned speechless, until he seemed to remember himself and snap out of whatever daze he was in. “You are matching,” he finally said.
“Excuse me?”
He sprouted a twitchy grin and took off his coat to reveal a light pink button-down shirt that looked as crisp and flawless as if it had been starched and ironed three minutes ago. The light color accented the tan in his face and made him look like he'd just stepped out of a fashion magazine. His light brown, short-cropped hair was tousled, as if he'd just returned from saving a whole litter of kittens and puppies from a windstorm and hadn't had time to comb his hair but it hadn't mattered because his hair was perfect anyway.
He looked casually handsome, like he didn't care about his appearance even when he couldn't help being so good-looking. It made him all the more attractive.
Oh my.
She did that incoherent babbling again. “Pink . . . I didn't expect . . . how did you . . .”
“I guess great minds think alike.” That smile was so mesmerizing. “I know I shouldn't say this to a patient's granddaughter, but you look stunning.”
“Stunning? In this dress? I think my mamm hoped for plain.”
“I don't know what your mamm hoped for, but you look like an angel.”
Cassie didn't know how to reply to such praise. “I don't think angels wear pink.”
“They do,” he said, before clearing his throat and looking away as if he'd just realized he'd been staring. “Was I supposed to dress Amish?”
“No,” said Cassie, finally able to string a few words together. “My mamm asks that I dress like this when I mingle with the community. She doesn't want her daughter to shame her in front of her neighbors.” She tried to keep her expression unemotional, but her eyes must have betrayed a glimmer of sadness she always felt when she thought about her family.
He looked truly sorry for her. “I can't imagine she'd be ashamed of you.”
“It's okay. I'm wearing makeup as a protest.”
“Power to the rebels,” he said, pumping his fist in the air.
His expression teased a smile to her lips and heat to her face.
He strode across the room and knelt next to the recliner. “Anna, how are you feeling?”
“Very gute today, Doctor.”
Mammi grabbed one of Cassie's cookies from the plate to her left. “Have a cookie, Doctor. Cassie made them this morning.”
The doctor took a hearty bite. “Mmm,” he said, with a pleasant smile on his lips. “You made these, Miss Coblenz?”
She nodded, way too hopeful that he'd like them. She tensed, even though she knew they tasted okay. She'd had three of them at lunch.
“Cassie's a very gute cook,” Mammi said.
“They're like a little bit of heaven,” he said. He finished it off in four bites. Cassie stared at the floor so the doctor wouldn't see her gratification. She appreciated a man who could appreciate good food. The two times she'd seen him eat, he had relished every bite. He probably didn't eat very well at his apartment.
Taking Mammi's hand, Zach asked, “How is the pain?”
“I hardly feel a thing.”
“Are you staying off your feet?”
Mammi held up her knitting for the doctor to see. “I've got plenty to do right here in this chair.”
The doctor took her hand. “Good. Did the home health nurse come this morning to change the dressing?”
“Jah,” Mammi said. “She is a very nice girl. Very thorough. But it wonders me if you couldn't be the one to change my dressing. I'd feel better if you did it.”
The doctor glanced at Cassie, probably wondering if there was some Amish protocol for this.
“Nae, Mammi,” Cassie said. “The nurse does a fine job. We can't impose on the doctor that way.”
“The nurses are actually better than us doctors when it comes to stuff like changing bandages,” Dr. Reynolds said.
Mammi dropped her knitting and put her hand over the doctor's. “We'll feed you.”
He glanced at Cassie, for her rescue or her approval, she couldn't tell. “I don't know. It might be all right. I can talk to the powers that be. What do you think, Miss Coblenz?”
She momentarily lost her train of thought just imagining what a stir he'd make at the auction. Handsome Englischers in crisp pink shirts didn't show up in Bonduel all that often. Well, never. He'd be the center of attention without even knowing it.
Her heart fluttered. People would think they were a couple, dressed alike as they were.
The doctor peered at her doubtfully, then turned to Mammi. “She doesn't think it's a good idea.”
“I'm sorry,” Cassie said. “Did you ask me something?”
“He wants to know if he should come and change my foot,” Mammi said. “Since he's going to be dropping by often, we don't need the home health nurse.”
“He'll be dropping by often?” Cassie said. Had she missed something?
“Yes, dear. To change my foot.”
The doctor sprouted a tentative grin. “If your granddaughter says it's okay, I'll check with the hospital.”
“It's not my decision,” Cassie said, chastising herself at how pleased she felt about the prospect of seeing Dr. Reynolds three times a week.
His expression grew serious as he studied her face. “I think it is your decision.”
Mammi slid another completed pot holder off her needles. “Of course it isn't her decision. It's my foot. I want you to come.”
“Only if it won't make Miss Coblenz uncomfortable.”
Cassie couldn't decide whether to die of embarrassment or float off the ground at the way he looked at her. His expression was casually cheerful, but his eyes glowed with restrained determination. Was he just being nice or did he truly want to spend his scarce free time with an old Amish couple and a boring art history graduate?
The look in his eyes told her that he wasn't just being nice.
But why? She'd made it perfectly clear that she didn't want to date him. Why would he waste his time?
Maybe he wasn't ready to give up.
That thought both thrilled and terrified her. She'd definitely softened toward Dr. Reynolds since Thursday. Who wouldn't thaw a little under the warmth of one of his smiles? But if he wanted to use her the way Englisch boys always used Englisch girls, would he be mad at her when she refused to behave like a plaything?
The door opened, sparing Cassie the need to answer. Dawdi tromped into the room bundled in his heavy black coat. His cheeks glowed bright red, and ice crystals had formed on his eyebrows and beard. He leaned against the wall as he slipped off his work boots. “Cold day out yet,” he said. “If temperatures stay low, the sap won't run until March.”
Dr. Reynolds closed the distance between him and Dawdi in three strides. Lithe, athletic, soccer-player strides.
Not that Cassie noticed.
“Felty,” he said, holding out his hand. “What have you been doing out there? You look like a snowman.”
Dawdi removed one of his heavy nylon gloves. It seemed Zach nearly jumped out of his skin when his hand touched Dawdi's. “Your hands are like ice.”
“I just milked the cow. The milk's on the porch,” Dawdi said. “It's a little cold in that barn yet.”
Zach's mouth fell open. “You milked? By hand?”
Dawdi's eyes twinkled. “I only got one cow. Doesn't seem economical to buy a milking machine.”
“Felty, you're eighty-six years old.”
“Eighty-five.”
“You're eighty-five years old. Most men your age are sitting in a rocking chair sucking dinner from a straw.”
“I wasn't never much for rocking chairs. And why would I want to eat from a straw when Annie is the best cook in Wisconsin?”
Zach's lips curled. “I hope I'm as young as you are when I'm eighty.”
“Eighty-five.” Dawdi swiped his hand down his horseshoe beard, clearing the ice that had formed there. He smiled at Cassie. “Why, you're as fresh as a field of sweet clover, Cassie girl.”
“Or an orchard of blossoming cherry trees,” Mammi volunteered.
“A pink, breathtaking sunrise,” the doctor added, taking her breath away with the way he stared at her.
She blushed, no doubt looking like a pink parfait with a bright red cherry on top.
Dawdi clapped his hands together. “Are you ready to go to the auction?”
“I'm looking forward to it,” Zach said, as if he really was.
“Okay,” Dawdi said. “I'll go change my coat and put on my shoes.”
An awkward silence took over the room when Dawdi disappeared down the hall.
Well, awkward for Cassie.