Katie's Choice(21)

                He’d expected to step into a quiet kitchen, fan lazily turning, refrigerator humming, lemonade waiting for him to come and drink it. A beautiful fantasy really, most likely fueled by his writer’s imagination and sunstroke. He had never really wondered how the fan would turn without electricity, or how Amish kept perishables cold. As for the pitcher of lemonade? Purely wishful thinking.

                What he did find was half the women in the county bustling around like crazed cooks while Gideon’s Annie barked orders like a drill sergeant.

                Yet only one woman captured his attention. Katie Rose stood in the middle of the chaos, as angelic as last night, as peaceful as a spring breeze. She seemed the epitome of the Amish: serene, composed, and . . . godly. He’d never had a thought like that before about a woman, and it surprised him. She exuded some sort of quality that had him wondering about a higher power. Or was it just the belief in such a being that could make the difference? He shook the thought away. He’d never been one to focus on the supernatural. Katie Rose’s look of serenity came from clean living and lack of cosmetics. That was all.

                He cleared his throat, hoping to gain someone’s attention.

                But not that of the entire room.

                All eyes turned toward him, and whatever the ladies had been doing, forgotten, if only momentarily.

                “I’d like to get something to drink, please.” This would have been so much easier if the kitchen had been empty, even if the lemonade hadn’t been waiting on the table for him. As it was, he was reliant on the women before him since they filled up every available space, leaving him no room to maneuver.

                Mary Elizabeth nudged Katie Rose in the ribs and nodded in his direction. “Aenti, would you get our guest a drink?”

                Katie Rose turned toward the rectangular box in one corner of the kitchen, her expression indifferent.

                Zane shifted from one foot to the other, ignoring the strange looks he received as one by one the women returned to their duties.

                He wasn’t entirely sure why Katie Rose was the one chosen to get him a glass of lemonade. It wasn’t her home, and he certainly wasn’t Mary Elizabeth’s guest since she lived with Gabriel still.

                He watched Katie Rose with hooded eyes as she poured him a tall glass and brought it around the counter toward him.

                “For you, Zane Carson,” she said, handing him the drink, her eyes not meeting his.

                “Thank you.”

                “Danki,” she said quietly.

                “Does that mean ‘You’re welcome’?”

                “It means ‘thank you.’” She turned toward the other ladies, and Zane had to fight the urge to reach out for her like Samuel and tag along behind her. Ridiculous.

                He looked for a place to sit, preferring the company of the busy women to his own. It had nothing to do with the willowy blonde. Nothing at all. He pulled out a chair from the table and moved it to an out-of-the-way corner where he could watch without getting in the way. Four ginormous pots bubbled on the stove, rows upon rows of jars lined every available countertop space, and the table was covered with mounds of cucumbers.

                “Pickles!” he said, sounding so much like the man who hollered “Eureka” that he almost laughed out loud.

                Gideon’s Annie turned to him, her orders put on hold momentarily. “Yes?”