Maybe she should have offered to help Winnie more?
Katie noticed that there was little mention of Jonathan in Winnie’s notes. Because she wanted to please him, she said, “What about Jonathan? You’ve got nothing written about his needs. What time does he leave for work? When does he return? What do you make for his lunch?”
Winnie frowned. “He’s a grown man, Katie. He can take care of himself.”
That sounded surprising to Katie. All Amish women took pride in taking care of their families. Did Winnie never attempt to help Jonathan with his meals?
She was prevented from saying anything more by the arrival of Mary and Hannah. “Hello, girls,” she said with a smile as she hurriedly tried to help them off with their cloaks and hang them on the hooks by the back door. “I’ve been eager all day to see you both.”
Seven-year-old Mary stopped in her tracks. “Katie, you’re here already?”
Winnie clucked. “Remember how I told you this morning that Katie would be comin’ to stay today?”
Wordlessly, Mary grasped Hannah’s hand. They both nodded.
Katie looked to Winnie with a smile. “I’ll be here for two months. Are you two ready to help me?”
Mary looked at Hannah, then at Katie with a reproachful glare. “No.” She then walked away, leaving her lunch pail and satchel on the table.
Katie waited for Winnie to chastise the girl. But instead of correcting the girl’s behavior, Winnie merely picked up Mary’s abandoned items and put them to rights.
Yet more strange behavior followed. Dinner was a haphazard affair. No one waited for Jonathan. Instead, Winnie just put some food on a plate for him.
After dinner, the girls went up to their room instead of gathering around the hearth like Katie’s family always did. Soon after, Winnie went to her room to finish packing.
Finally, at almost seven o’clock, Jonathan entered. As soon as he noticed her presence, his steps slowed. “Katie. You came.”
“Of course I did. I said I would.” When she smiled his way, Jonathan blinked and he dipped his chin, as if embarrassed.
“Well, I’m…glad. The girls need you here.” He looked at her again, then turned away.
“I had a busy day. Winnie showed me around your home.”
“I hope you found everything to your liking.”
Suddenly, she couldn’t have cared less about her bare room or the unfamiliar surroundings. “Everything is most pleasing.”
After removing his black coat and hanging his hat on a peg by the door, he walked quickly to the sink, washed his hands, then picked up the plate she’d set out for him. “Is this for me?”
“Of course.” Taking a chance, she dared to tease him a bit. “Who else would it be for? I hope you like meat loaf.”
“I like it fine.” Once again those pale blue eyes seemed to seek hers for a moment, then drop in embarrassment. Somewhat stiltedly, he went to his meal. After taking it to the table, he offered a quick silent prayer of thanks, then he proceeded to eat without so much as warming it up for a bit in the oven.
Katie joined him. “So, how was your work at the lumberyard?”
“It was good.”
She tried again. “Did you do anything interesting? What, exactly, do you make there, anyway?”
Wearily, he wiped his mouth. “We make shells. You know, lumber frames for homes. We have a large contract for a builder out near Toledo. We build furniture, too, sometimes.”
“That sounds interesting,” she murmured, though it didn’t, not really. “Do you like it?”
“I like it well enough. My boss, Brent, is a good man.” Jonathan turned his plate a quarter turn so he could continue to shovel in his meal. In sync with his fork hitting the plate, he shrugged. “There isn’t much to say. The work is hard, but plenty. And the pay is gut, too. That’s a blessing.”
For a moment, Katie found herself noticing everything about Jonathan, all over again. The way he held his fork. The scar along the base of his thumb. The way his cool blue eyes seemed to always find hers. “Indeed. Well, I spent the day getting organized.”
“Did you have any problems?”
“No. Not at all.” She swallowed hard as once again his hand stilled and he looked long at her. “Um, please don’t worry about the girls. I will care for them just fine.”
“I assumed you would.”
“Oh. Well, then…” Her voice drifted off. When she noticed him shifting, about to leave the room, about to stand up, she blurted, “How did you get that scar?”
He stilled. “Which one?”
Before she could stop herself, she reached out and touched his thumb. His skin felt so different than hers, rough. Cool. He started from her touch. “That one.”