Read Something Old Online

Authors: Dianne Christner

Tags: #Fiction, #Amish & Mennonite, #Christian, #Romance

Something Old (14 page)

BOOK: Something Old
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“She promised him a new iPod. A better one. And Addison is getting her own so they don’t have to fight over Tyler’s.”

“That’s a little harsh.”

“I know. But I’m sure you’ve got better things to do than talk about a couple of spoiled kids.”

“Nothing’s more important than talking to you. Why haven’t we talked on the phone before?”

So maybe he wasn’t breaking up with her? Unless he was baiting her so he could dangle the third date. She hated to end the call until she knew exactly where they stood. “I made the mistake of asking Tammy what kind of discipline I should administer. She got all white-knuckled and said I should just tell her when they misbehaved, and she’d deal with it.”

“By rewarding them?”

“Exactly. Now my hands are really tied. I asked her if she’s looking for another nanny. She said the agencies were too expensive. She was thinking of arranging her schedule differently and asked if I could babysit two days a week, on the days I come anyway. She’s a pro at getting her way.”

“That’s not something you want then?”

“Hardly. I told her I’d think about it. If I hadn’t stalled, I’d have ended up manipulated into a yes on the spot, and—” She dropped the phone cord, twirled her ponytail, and sighed.

“Guess you need to practice all the ways to say no. There’s a lot of country songs on that subject.”

She remembered his car radio, although he’d only turned it to classical music on their date. “You like country music?”

“I listen to it sometimes. Anyway, don’t practice your no on me, okay?”

“If you’re a gentleman, I won’t have to.”

Later that night, Vernon Yoder found Marie asleep on the sofa. He leaned over her and lightly shook her shoulder. “Wake up, honey.”

“What? I’b just sleeby. How was your meeding?”

“Mennonite Mutual will cover the fire, and we’ve decided to rebuild, and while we’re at it, to add those Sunday school rooms we’ve been needing.”

She sniffled. “Zounds like work.”

He grabbed a tissue and handed it to her, easing onto the couch beside her. “We’re forming a committee so the elders don’t get bogged down.”

Dabbing her nose, she asked, “Who’s on the gammittee?”

“Maybe your lovely daughter.”

Marie jerked to a sitting position. “Why Gaty?”

“First they tried to get someone from the hostess committee. Lil’s mom is feeling low right now, so then Lil’s name came up. We called her from the meeting. She said she couldn’t because she works nights, but she suggested Katy. For some reason, the elders thought she was a good candidate. We tried calling, but the phone was busy.”

“Dabe Miller called; then I vell asleeb.”

“I didn’t want her on the committee.”

“Why not?”

“Because Jake Byler will be the project superintendent. They called him, and he’s already agreed.”

“Oh no.”

“Talking to David, huh? I guess that’s a good sign.”

“Dey sounded habby.”

“We’ll just have to keep praying about it. You have sick eyes, honey. Let’s go to bed.”

Later that week, Katy caught lingering whiffs of a smoky odor as she hurried past a yellow ribbon that fenced off the charred disaster. She shouldered the door to the meetinghouse. Low laughter floated to her from the sanctuary, where the building committee was scheduled to meet. She had never served on any committees before and wasn’t sure what to expect. She figured she was here as Lil’s proxy, but that seemed fair since the elders had asked Lil first.

Curious to see who else would serve on the committee, she stepped through the open double doors that separated the foyer from the sanctuary and made her way down the gray-carpeted center aisle. Dark-stained pews flanked her on either side. She had almost reached the front of the room when her steps faltered.

Her shoulders drooped in utter disbelief. Not Jake again? As if on cue, he turned, meeting her stricken gaze with his own contrite one, the ever-so-charming grin that infuriated her these days. She forced her attention to the elder presiding over the meeting. Her dad had told her he was thankful he wasn’t chosen for the position. Instead Megan’s dad had received the honor. “Hi Mr. Weaver.”

“Hi Katy.” He stepped into the aisle and took her hand, but when he saw the large Band-Aid, he treated it with care. “What happened?”

“A few blisters from the fire. But it’s healing.”

“I’m sorry. We miss seeing you since Megan’s away at school.”

“I miss you guys, too.” Trying hard to ignore Jake’s presence, she asked, “Got any midnight blues in the works?”

He held a finger to his lips, pretending nobody else knew that his favorite pastime of restoring cars and painting them midnight blue, but everybody knew.

She took stock of the seating arrangement, and Jake’s eyes dared her to sit beside him, but she opted for the painter’s pew. Still, Jake’s presence beckoned her. He certainly didn’t look repentant, coming to church with shaggy hair and wearing a T-shirt. She struggled harder to disregard him, giving her full attention to observing the other committee members.

Besides the blues man, the group included representatives from the finance committee, the grounds committee, and the church council, as well as a layperson who was a painter by trade, Katy as a stand-in for the hostess committee, and obviously Jake as construction advisor. That made seven. To Katy, there were only two people in the room, and that made her want to flee, but she couldn’t do that. She’d have to endure the torture of putting in her time at the meeting.

It started with the groundskeeper reporting on the scheduled cleanup and answering questions on easements.

“What if the congregation doesn’t want to spend the money for the additional Sunday school rooms?” the painter asked.

“The finance committee will head up the bids, and we’ll have all that information before we take it to the congregation for a vote,” Mr. Weaver explained.

“What if they think we’re trying to push it through by getting on this so quickly?”

Katy hadn’t known the painter was such a pessimist.

“There are always a few rumbles, no matter what direction leadership takes. We’ll deal with the problems as they arise. We’re not trying to trick anybody, just get all our facts together at this point.”

As the meeting progressed, Katy’s neck stiffened from being held in one position so long to avoid Jake’s gaze. Hearing the low rumble of his Dutch accent—his mother’s family came from an Amish background—was trying enough, for it brought back yearnings she’d hoped to have stifled by now. Putting a hand to her neck, she twisted to ease the tension. Of course her traitorous eyes sought the most desirable man in the room.

And he knew the moment she looked at him. His brown eyes caressed her, and she found it hard to turn away. Then those sensuous lips of his gave her a private smile, and she remembered how she used to always make him smile. He had once delighted in her, in their relationship. He had that look now, that darkened gaze that clung to her every breath. He probably only wanted her now because she was unobtainable. The thought was enough that she was able to break their visual contact.

She made a show of rubbing her neck and focused once more on the agenda. She gleaned that she needed to speak to the present hostess committee and collect their input on an updated kitchen and get the information to Jake as soon as possible. He needed the details before their next meeting. He was in charge of getting a blueprint drawn, collecting bids for the congregation’s approval, and submitting the plans to Plain City’s Planning and Zoning Commission.

Now she knew why her dad sometimes returned from elders’ meetings looking frayed and worried. Bill Weaver prayed and dismissed them, and finally she could flee. She lurched to her feet and hastened down the aisle, confident that as the only woman present, no one would detain her. She planned to escape before Jake got the opportunity to engage that lethal gaze of his again, the one that made her heart revolt against her will. But she’d not even reached the double doors before a touch sent a shock through her shoulder.

With a frustrated sigh, she stopped. Turned.

“I need to get your ideas before I draw up the kitchen.”

So he didn’t have anything personal to say to her. Good. That was the way she wanted it, too. “I need to talk to Lil first. I’m sure the hostess committee has ideas.”

He raised a brow. Perhaps he hadn’t realized Lil was asked first and would be giving her input. “As far as the blueprints go, the plans for the new kitchen are major. Think we could get together sometime soon to discuss it?”

Were those ulterior motives or was he only taking care of business? She troubled her lip. “To be honest, I didn’t know I’d be working with you. Otherwise I wouldn’t even have accepted this position. I’ll have to resign if it includes private meetings with the likes of you.”

“That’s right. You don’t want me. I get that, but if you back out of this committee now, it will just delay the preliminary process. For the congregation’s sake, we can surely put our personal feelings aside long enough to get this job done.” He gave her a crooked, albeit contrite smile. “Think of all the little Sunday school kids. How would you like to listen to adult sermons without getting any David and Goliath stories afterward to make up for it? And think of all the starving bachelors who count on the church potlucks. And think of—”

“Okay. I get it.” She bit her lip to keep from smiling and raised a brow. “What about the doddy house?”

He squinted those intimidating brows. “You’re afraid of me, aren’t you?” He lifted his arms to show he wore no weapon. “Come on, Katy. I’m just a harmless Dutchman. Totally defenseless.”

She ignored his comment and rephrased her question in a voice she might use with Tyler. “Is your work for the church going to slow down your progress at the doddy house? This is a major project.”

She saw his eyes darken; anger and lust with him looked so similar, she couldn’t tell what was going through his thick, tousle-haired skull. “I’ll work overtime, if that’s what it takes. I’m not a slacker. I need both jobs to get references for the construction business I plan to start.” The painter walked by, giving them a once-over.

“They want to lock up,” Katy observed.

“Let me walk you to your car,” Jake whispered in reply.

She started to put her coat on and resented the way Jake helped her shrug into it. She moved toward the door. “Regarding the new kitchen, what kind of information do you need?”

He gave her the quick version, one that fit into the distance between the church and her car, and she realized he could be precise and intelligent when he chose to be. He wasn’t a boy any longer. He was a stubborn, irrepressible man. When they reached her car, she had a vivid flashback of the incident. It shook her. She only wanted to get rid of him. “I’ll make some calls. Talk to Lil and the rest of the committee. Maybe I can stop by sometime at the doddy house and go over it with you.” She reached for her car door handle.

“Wait. Do you have paper and a pencil? I should give you my cell phone number so you can call before you come.” She frowned and slid into her seat. As if she’d ever call him. But he continued to explain. “I’m usually there, but sometimes I have to run after materials. Sometimes I have to sit with Grandma, too.”

Her emotions flickered with instant sympathy, remembering his grandma who now had Alzheimer’s. Minnie had been her favorite Sunday school teacher, a vibrant part of their congregation, but now the elderly woman fell asleep the moment her skirt hit the pew, her snores embarrassing everyone within hearing. He must have misread her expression, because he quickly added, “I can always stay late, if I have to do that. But it’s one of the reasons I moved back home. To give Mom some support. Sis is staying at a dorm at OSU.” He rammed his hands in his jeans.

Trying to tamp down the sympathy she felt for him, she started rifling through her purse. Her bandage caught, and she jerked it free. “I’m sorry about your grandma.”

“Thanks.”

She handed him paper and pen. “I don’t mean to sound like a slave driver. I’m sure you’ll do a great job. I just have a problem with you.”

He shed off her insult and scribbled seven digits on the paper. Then he started rambling about something totally off the subject, and Katy struggled to follow.

BOOK: Something Old
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