Her Restless Heart Page 2

  Jacob drew himself up. "Yes."

  "But I've told you before—"

  "That you're not interested in going out."

  "Yes."

  "But I haven't heard of you going out with anyone else."

  She stared at him, oblivious of the people who streamed around them on the sidewalk. "Who did you ask?"

  Her direct stare was unnerving. His collar felt tight, but he knew if he pulled it away from his neck he'd just appear guilty. "I'd have heard."

  "I'm not interested in dating, Jacob."

  When she started past him, he put out his hand to stop her. She looked down at his hand on her arm and then met his gaze. "Is it you're not interested in dating or you're not interested in dating me?"

  Her lips quirked. "I'm not interested in dating. It's not you."

  "I see."

  She began walking again.

  "Do you mind if I walk with you?"

  "Schur." She glanced at him. "Can you keep up?"

  He found himself grinning. She was different from other young women he knew, more spirited and independent.

  "Where are we going?"

  She shrugged. "Nowhere in particular. I just needed to get out and get some fresh air."

  Stopping at a shop window, she studied its display of tourist souvenirs. "Did you ever think about not staying here? In Paradise?"

  "Not stay here? Where would you go?"

  She turned to look at him and shrugged. "I don't know. It's a big world out there."

  Jacob felt a chill race up his spine. "You can't mean it," he said slowly. "You belong here."

  "Do I?" she asked. Pensive, she stared at the people passing. "Sometimes I'm not sure where I belong."

  He took her shoulders and turned her to face the shop window. "This is where you belong," he told her.

  She looked at the image of herself reflected in the glass as he directed. He liked the way they looked together in the reflection. She was a fine Amish woman, with a quiet beauty he'd admired for some time. He'd known her in school and, of course, they'd attended Sunday services and singings and such through the years. He hadn't been in a rush to get married, and he'd noticed she hadn't been, either. Both of them had been working hard, he at his farm, she in the shop she and her grandmother and cousins owned.

  He began noticing her shortly after the shop opened for business. There was a different air about her. She seemed more confident, happier than she'd been before.

  He reminded himself that she'd said she didn't date.

  So why, he asked himself, was he trying again? Taking a deep breath, he turned to her. "Mary Katherine—"

  "Jacob!" a man called.

  He turned and saw a man striding toward him, a newcomer to the Plain community.

  Though the man hailed him, his attention was clearly on Mary Katherine. He held out his hand. "Daniel Kurtz," he said. "Remember me?"

  Out of the corner of his eye, Jacob saw Mary Katherine turn to the man and eye him with interest.

  "You live in Florida now."

  "I do." He studied the shop. "So, this is yours?"

  "My grandmother's. My cousins and I help her."

  Daniel nodded. "Very enterprising." He glanced around. "Is this the size of crowd you get this time of year?"

  Mary Katherine nodded. "After-Christmas sales bring them out. But business slows down while people eat lunch."

  "I came into town to pick up a few things and I'm hungry. Have you two eaten?"

  "I asked Mary Katherine but—"

  "We'll join you," she said quickly.

  Jacob stared at her. But the two of them were already walking away. With an unexplained feeling of dread washing over him, he followed them.

  2

  It wasn't often that Mary Katherine had not one but two handsome men sitting at a table talking to her.

  Actually, it had never happened before, unless you counted the times she and Jacob and his brother Amos had sat at a table and done their studies when they'd been scholars. It hadn't been pleasant. Amos had pulled her braids and dabbed paste on her papers.

  These two men were as different as night and day. Jacob's hair shone the blue-black of a raven's wing when he took off his hat. He had a square jaw and intense brown eyes that seemed to bore into you when he looked at you. And his hands. Well, they were big and strong, with blunt fingers, but he'd picked a delicate flower once when they were on a picnic with other youth and surprised her with it.

  Daniel was as fair-haired as Jacob was dark, the strands of his hair streaked a lighter blond from the Florida sunlight. Both men were tanned from working in the fields but Daniel's was darker from more exposure. His features were finer, his hands smaller, and there was a glint in his blue eyes that spoke of charm and mischief, contrasting with Jacob's more serious manner.

  Their clothing was similar, the Plain attire of black felt winter hats, black pants and jackets, and colored shirts. Both were tall and strong and muscular.

  They had grown from schoolboys to fine, strapping Amish men. Both caught the eye of Plain folk and Englischers alike as they walked to the restaurant, and now as they sat at the table.

  A waitress brought menus, took drink orders, and left.

  "Florida," Mary Katherine mused as she glanced out the window. "Palm trees, warm sea breezes . . ." She watched as people hurried by dressed in jackets, coats, and hats. "Sounds wonderful."

  Daniel grinned. "Well, we work in Florida, you know. My parents took a vacation there one winter and never wanted to come back to the weather here. So I stayed, too."

  He looked at Mary Katherine over the top of the menu. "You've certainly changed from the gawky girl I remembered."

  She felt a blush creeping over her face. "I—thank you."

  "What brings you back to Paradise?" Jacob asked.

  Her eyes flew to his. He didn't sound very friendly. Matter of fact, he didn't look it, either, his dark eyebrows drawn in a frown, his jaw set. Strange, she thought. Jacob was usually one of the friendliest people she knew.

  "I'm here to finalize the sale of the family farm." Daniel opened his menu and scanned the choices.

  "So you're breaking all ties here then?"

  "I wouldn't say that," Daniel told him, closing his menu. "We still have family here. But we don't need the property and it's a good time to sell since there's less land available now in Lancaster County."

  The waitress came to take food orders.

  "Just the tea for me, thanks," Mary Katherine told her.

  "You're not doing one of the Englisch diets, are you?" Daniel asked her. "You look great."

  Blushing, she shook her head. "We ate at the shop. Grandmother brought fried chicken in today."

  "I remember her fried chicken." He looked at the waitress as she walked toward the kitchen to hand in their order. "Should I have ordered the fried chicken here?"

  "The pot roast is better," Mary Katherine and Jacob said at the same time. They looked at each other and grinned.

  She caught Daniel looking questioningly at Jacob, then at her. "Tell us about where you live now," she said quickly.

  "We vacationed in a town called Pinecraft, near Sarasota, for a couple of years. That's on the west coast of Florida," he explained. "You'd see some familiar names on the mailboxes if you went there, names like Stoltzfus, Yoder, Beiler. There are Mennonites there as well as Plain people. My family and I are members of the Beachy Amish Mennonite church there."

  "Oh, that looks good," he exclaimed when their food arrived. "Not very many Englischers know we're there so we haven't become a tourist attraction like other Plain communities."

  The men dug into the pot roast special. "You're right, it is good," he told Jacob.

  The restaurant was filled with locals and tourists enjoying the "authentic Amish" food. Anything labeled "Amish" was popular with the tourists.

  Daniel asked about mutual friends. Mary Katherine filled in the blanks for him, telling him who'd gotten married, who had children, who was engaged
, who'd moved away to other Amish communities. He wanted to know about her grandmother, Leah, and cousins Naomi and Anna, too, and he seemed very interested in the shop.

  "You were always sketching designs in school," he said as he buttered a roll. "Jacob, you remember how often our teacher chided Mary Katherine for doing that instead of schoolwork?" He chuckled. "But look how it paid off. Is the shop doing well?"

  She nodded. "We had a very prosperous holiday season."

  "But that's not what it's all about, is it?" he asked quietly.

  Startled, her eyes met his. "No," she said at last. "I love what I do."

  There was a slight sound to her left. Turning, she saw Jacob staring at her .

  "Is something wrong?"

  "No," he said quickly. "Could you—would you pass me the salt, please?"

  "Sure." She handed him the shaker and watched him sprinkle it over his pot roast. "Just like my dat. He salts everything before he eats, too. Mamm keeps threatening to over-salt his food one day so he'll stop."

  She frowned. Dat was so critical. There wasn't a family that loved their father more or worked harder for his approval. Yet he seldom thanked them or seemed to appreciate them.

  "How is he?"

  She looked up and smiled at Daniel. "Same Dat you remember. He hasn't changed."

  "I had an onkel like that. He pointed at a chair one day and said he was just like that—he couldn't change. I decided right then and there I couldn't be like him." He fell silent as he ate his food.

  Perhaps that was why he'd made the move to Florida with his parents. She started to ask him that, but something made her glance over at Jacob. He was staring at his plate and hadn't eaten much.

  "Is something the matter with your food?"

  He blinked. "What? Oh, no. I just was thinking about something."

  "I don't remember you as being this quiet," Daniel teased him.

  "I remember you as being this talkative," Jacob shot back.

  "Boys, boys!" Mary Katherine said, laughing. "And I remember the two of you being good friends when we were scholars."

  Daniel's grin faded. "Yes, I do as well. I'm sorry, Jacob. I should have kept in contact."

  Jacob shrugged. "I understood. I figured you were busy or that maybe you decided that since you weren't coming back there was no point in staying friends."

  "We were busy. Still am. But that's no excuse for not staying in contact with good friends."

  "Well, we're here now," Mary Katherine said.

  Daniel nodded. "I was on my way to take a look at Mary Katherine's shop. I thought I'd pick up a present to take back to my mamm."

  He looked at Jacob. "Guess now that the harvest is finished you have a little more time?"

  "Ya. While I was in town picking up supplies, I thought I'd see if Mary Katherine wanted to have lunch."

  "Are the two of you dating?"

  Mary Katherine choked on her tea. She looked at Jacob, but it was Daniel who rushed to pat her on the back.

  "Why do you ask that?" she asked him when she got her breath back.

  "He was coming to take you to lunch."

  "He was coming to ask," she corrected. "That's different."

  "I see," Daniel said slowly. He looked at Jacob. "So, are the two of you dating?"

  Jacob watched Mary Katherine's gaze drop to the cup before her.

  "We're friends," Jacob told him. "Just friends."

  "Ya? I thought the two of you might be seeing each other."

  He watched Daniel go back to eating and studied him for a long moment. As a rule, he tried to accept people at face value and not be looking for ulterior motives. But he couldn't help wondering if Daniel was interested in Mary Katherine.

  If only Mary Katherine had agreed to have lunch with him. Then they wouldn't have run into Daniel. He wouldn't have had to sit here and watch another man look interested in her. He wouldn't have felt unaccustomed feelings of jealousy washing over him.

  There was no way he could compete with Daniel. The man had known how to charm girls since he attended school, and he'd gotten even better at it since then. Mary Katherine had been smiling at him more than he ever remembered seeing her do since he'd known her. And every time the subject of Florida came up . . . well, it was obvious that it sounded romantic to her because she looked so dreamy when Daniel mentioned it.

  What did he have to compete with that? A farm in Pennsylvania. That was hardly romantic to her. After all, she'd grown up here, worked on her family's farm, and always acted like she hated it. Florida with its mystery and warm weather was obviously appealing.

  As was Daniel. Both of them were tanned from working in the fields, but his hair had been streaked by the sun, too. Women liked blond men, didn't they?

  No, Mary Katherine wasn't so shallow that looks were that important to her.

  And she was happy here. He knew that. Her work at the shop was obviously the fulfillment of everything she'd ever wanted. That dreamy girl who sketched in school instead of doing her lessons now worked at her loom all day at the shop and sold her work. She and her cousins were like sisters, and there were no closer sisters than Amish schweschders.

  She attended Sunday services but hadn't yet been baptized into the church. However, that wasn't unusual. Sometimes people waited to be sure. Once they'd joined, if they changed their minds it meant they couldn't stay, that they'd be shunned. So such serious decisions merited serious consideration. Marriage, too. Once entered into, a marriage was for life, so most didn't rush to marry in their teens.

  Mary Katherine wasn't even dating.

  Maybe there was no need to worry that Daniel or some other man would be stepping in ahead of him to try to date her. And why had he even worried about Daniel? He'd be leaving soon, after he took care of selling the family farm.

  Relieved, Jacob resumed eating and even found himself nodding when the waitress returned to ask if anyone wanted dessert. He ordered a slice of pumpkin pie and sat back with a second cup of coffee to listen while Mary Katherine talked animatedly about her weaving.

  "How is your mother?" Daniel asked.

  Jacob realized that he was talking to him. "They're fine." As the only son, he'd taken over caring for the farm after his daed died. His mother had moved out of the house later when she remarried.

  "What about your parents? I guess they like it in Florida if they're selling the property?"

  "They love it. Mamm was so tired of the snow here."

  He set down his fork and wiped his mouth with his napkin. "If you'll excuse me, I should check the weather back home."

  From his pocket he drew out a cell phone, one Mary Katherine recognized as the latest fancy kind she often saw the Englisch tourists carrying. Flipping it open, he tapped his forefinger on the screen and a dizzying series of images flashed past. Pausing on one, he studied the screen.

  "You use AgWired.com?" Jacob asked, leaning forward for a closer look. He pulled out his own cell phone and copied Daniel's steps. "I do, too."

  "You men with the cell phones," Mary Katherine said. "You don't see us women using them."

  "That's because we're the ones in business," Daniel murmured and then his head jerked up when he apparently realized what he'd said. "I mean, we're just usually the ones who have to conduct business and—"

  Mary Katherine just raised her eyebrows. Jacob chuckled as he watched Daniel redden.

  "It's all right," she told him. "I'm sure you've noticed that even with us Plain folk there have been some changes. Women have taken care of the business of the home for years so it's only natural that they are sometimes in business outside the home."

  She leaned closer to see what the two men were so interested in on the cell phone. "What's that?"

  "Weather website."

  "It's for farmers?" Mary Katherine asked slowly.

  Daniel looked up. "Ya."

  "But you're selling your farm here."

  "I farm in Florida."

  "I thought people just raised oranges there."r />
  Daniel laughed. "Some people do. We grow celery, among other things." He tapped the screen again, and a photo of a farmhouse popped up. "That's the house. And here's one of the fields."

  Jacob watched Mary Katherine. She'd seemed interested when Daniel talked about Florida earlier but now, as she gazed at the phone, a stillness came over her face.

  "Very nice." She stood. "I have to go. I've been away from the shop longer than I should have been."

  She pulled some money from her pocket and put it on the table. "I'll see you both later."

  Jacob got to his feet, but she was already hurrying toward the door. When Daniel looked at him, his eyebrows raised in a question, Jacob shook his head and shrugged.

  The little bell over the door tinkled as Mary Katherine entered the shop. She hurried to hang up her bonnet and coat. "I'm sorry I was gone so long."

  "You weren't," her grandmother assured her. "And it's been slow."

  "Did you have a good time with Jacob?" Anna asked, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

  Mary Katherine stopped. "How do you know I bumped into Jacob?" She narrowed her eyes. "Or wasn't it an accident that I bumped into him?"

  Shrugging, Anna pushed a needle through the quilt she was working on.

  "Anna?"

  She looked up, the picture of innocence. "Yes, Grossmudder?"

  "Are you matchmaking?"

  Anna blinked. "No, Grossmudder."

  Mary Katherine moved to stand near Anna. She put her hands on her hips and gave her a stern look. "So our running into each other was a coincidence?"

  "No." She knotted the thread and resumed sewing. "He asked what time we ate dinner each day, and I told him we ate at the shop but you liked to take a walk about noon each day."

  "I see."

  Anna's lips twitched, and then she started giggling. "I'm sorry. But I saw the two of you talking last Sunday and you seemed interested in him."

  "Mary Katherine's interested in someone?" Naomi asked as she walked out of the supply room. "Here, can you help me with these bolts of fabric?"

  Taking several of the bolts that were threatening to slip from Naomi's grasp, Mary Katherine carried them to the cutting table. Naomi began unfolding a bolt and pulled a pair of scissors from a drawer.