A Wedding for Julia Read online

  He couldn’t catch them. He couldn’t do anything about them.

  It was best to let them go.

  Fall in Wisconsin was a thing of beauty. There was a light breeze and the temperature was a pleasant seventy—he’d seen the readout on the bank building as he drove out of town. Afternoon light bounced off the water playing over the rocks in the creek. He might finish up his run for the general store early and put in an hour or two of fishing. Soon enough hunting season would start. Perhaps he’d talk Aaron into a hunting stand a time or two, depending on Lydia’s condition. She was pregnant with their first child, and it was due before the end of hunting season. He smiled at the thought of his friend and his young family. Aaron was happier here in Wisconsin than he’d ever been back home. Caleb didn’t mind admitting to himself that Aaron had found something he hadn’t.

  And there was the problem that was scratching at his happiness this fine autumn day. Without fail, winter would follow fall, and winters in Wisconsin were long. One wretched cold night followed another, and the solitude was somewhat depressing.

  Caleb hunched over the reins and pretended his horse needed directing. If he were honest with himself, he’d admit that hunting was losing its appeal, as was fishing. Maybe he was sick. Or perhaps he was lonely.

  Could be. Whenever he went back home to Indiana, he was surrounded by family, and he thought about staying. His life was here, though. He’d come because Aaron’s letters had described a life that held so much promise. And Wisconsin had been all that he’d described and more. It had been all Caleb had imagined and hoped.

  Hadn’t it?

  What kind of life did he have, spending every night alone?

  Gotte, what I need is a friend. The words popped in his mind. He almost laughed out loud. He had many friends in Pebble Creek, people he could call if he needed a hand. Making the turn toward the Beechy house, he realized his heart was right, though. He needed a close friend, someone who was as alone as he was. Someone he could have long talks with. Someone who didn’t have to hurry off because of their own family, their own obligations.

  Gotte, I need a friend. The words echoed in his heart, and they felt true. His mamm used to say that prayer eased the heart by lifting burdens up and into their proper place. He wasn’t one for fancy praying, but maybe that didn’t matter so much. Maybe it was the asking that counted.

  He found himself whistling as he turned again—this time down the lane that led to the Beechys. He slowed his gelding in front of the two-story house and studied the large square structure.

  “That would be a fine house if someone took care of it,” he said to Red, his sorrel. His father had named Red last year when he came to help Caleb settle. Jebediah had never been accused of having an imagination. He’d gone with Caleb to pick out the horse, who had a reddish tint to his coat. The name naturally followed.

  Jebediah had no imagination, but Caleb did.

  He looked at the house in front of him, and he saw how it must have looked years ago, before the elder Mr. Beechy had become ill. Before the burden of the place had fallen on the shoulders of Julia.

  “Shame,” he muttered.

  Red didn’t seem to have an opinion. He tossed his head and began pulling at the grass in front of him.

  “Don’t eat a bare patch,” Caleb cautioned. “I only have the one box. I’ll be back in two minutes.”

  He knew talking to the horse was ridiculous, but Tuesdays and Thursdays were delivery days. The other three days he worked for the grocery, he helped unload pallets of food and stock shelves. On delivery days, he drove the back roads. Riding the remote routes of their district alone, the quiet could build up and make you long for a conversation. The ride became lonely, even for an Amish man, who was accustomed to quiet. Too much of a thing could make you restless, which was probably why he was looking forward to seeing Julia.

  Sure would beat trying to talk to Samuel Gingerich. The man constantly spouted Scripture.

  “The Bible says we should devote ourselves to Gotte’s Word,” the older man had bellowed.

  Caleb had made the mistake of asking if he had tried fishing recently.

  “Fix your thoughts on what is true, and honorable, and right, and pure, and lovely, and admirable.” Samuel frowned and stared at Caleb as if he had offended him in some way.

  So Caleb had said, “Have a good afternoon, Samuel,” and left.

  But the lecture from the old guy rankled his nerves. It seemed to him that fishing was lovely and admirable. Perhaps it was even honorable as it provided food for people and did so in a peaceful way.

  Besides, he didn’t need a lesson from Samuel Gingerich. He read the Bible and didn’t need it quoted to him.

  All right, he hadn’t read it a lot, but he’d read it some. You’d think Samuel would want to talk about something else—the weather maybe or all the tourists who had been through town—but he hadn’t. Caleb had been happy to drop off the man’s groceries and turn Red back down the lane.

  Funny how some people never wanted to come into town to buy their groceries. Some people, like Samuel, didn’t care to see other folks. They avoided it whenever they had the chance.

  Other folks, like Julia, couldn’t get away even if they wanted to. He’d watched her since he’d started delivering groceries a year ago. She was devoted to her parents and rarely left the house. What would that be like? To be completely tied to a place?

  Had she ever been over to Wildcat Mountain? How often did she go into town to shop for things a woman needed? Her dedication was something he had a hard time understanding, especially given his history with women—correction, one woman.

  Hefting the box of groceries up on his shoulder, he walked up the steps, knocked on the door, and inwardly chided himself. The past was past and he was over it. What he’d been through with Lois had happened years ago, and he didn’t feel any bitterness toward her. She’d been young. He was wrong to use her behavior as a measuring stick for how other women might or might not act.

  He knocked again on the door.

  When Julia’s mother answered, he knew something was wrong.

  Chapter 3

  Hello, Caleb.”

  “Ada.”

  “Danki for bringing the groceries.”

  “Happy to do it.” Caleb stood there, uncertain what his next move should be. He’d been bringing groceries to the Beechys twice a month for a year, and Julia had always answered the door. Was she sick?

  Ada pushed the screen door open a crack, which was difficult for her to manage, what with her arthritis and the fact she was still clutching the cane. Caleb shuffled the box to his other shoulder and opened the door.

  “You can take that into the kitchen.”

  “Oh, ya. Sure thing.” Maybe Julia was in there cooking. Something did smell good. Caleb didn’t realize how much he’d looked forward to seeing Julia and her smile until Ada had answered the door. The thought of not seeing her again for two weeks made his stomach twist, which was ridiculous. He’d see her at the next church meeting, but that was different. On Sundays the women kept to themselves, especially the single women.

  Caleb walked across the small entry hall and through the front room. An Englisch family would have used it for a dining room, but Julia and Ada had filled it with their sewing things. On the far side of the room was a doorway leading to the kitchen.

  Cooking on the back burner of the gas-powered stove was a stew, which was what Caleb had smelled. His stomach growled as he set the box on the counter next to the pot—beef vegetable if he wasn’t mistaken. No doubt all of the vegetables had been grown by Julia, but where was she?

  He turned around and Ada handed him an envelope with the money for her groceries. She didn’t need to ask the amount because it was always the same.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Gut!” Ada’s left hand clutched the cane, but she raised her right to illustrate her point. “I will sing to the Lord, for He has been good to me.”

  Caleb
recognized the words from the book of Psalms. Since delivering to the Beechys, he’d become quite acquainted with King David’s words. Somehow it didn’t bother him quite the way that listening to Samuel Gingerich did. When Ada quoted from the Bible, it was as if she were sprinkling salt on a meal. She was seasoning the day.

  “Gut to hear, Ada.” He moved to his right and glanced into the breakfast area. From where he stood, he could even see a portion of the sitting room, enough to know there was no sign of Julia in the house. Disappointment swelled through him, but he pushed it down. He couldn’t expect her to wait around on the grocery man.

  “I guess I should be going on to my last stop.”

  “Your last stop is your freind Aaron. Surely he can wait.” Ada walked over to the pitcher on the counter. “Thirsty?”

  “Nein.”

  She poured a glass of water anyway. “I wonder if you could take this out to Julia.”

  Caleb tried not to respond to her words, but he wasn’t very successful. By the time Ada handed him the glass, he’d forgotten about the stew and was ready to dash outside. Julia was home. He’d be able to see her. Suddenly delivering Aaron’s groceries slipped from his mind.

  “She’s been working in the garden for some time, and she might be thirsty.”

  “I’d be happy to.” Caleb wanted to hurry back out the front, but he didn’t because Ada insisted on accompanying him to the door. He’d never realized how slowly she walked with the cane. He could have lapped the house in the time it took them to walk back through the sewing room.

  Ada patted his arm and thanked him again.

  “You know your way out, Caleb. I believe I’ll stay here by the window.”

  “All right. You have a gut day, Ada.” Caleb was nearly out the front door when he remembered to ask, “Same order next time?”

  “Ya. Same things.” Ada waved her hand as she settled in the rocker near the window. She didn’t reach for her quilting, though, and why would she? Her hands were knotted so badly it was a wonder she could turn the pages of the worn Bible she picked up from the table next to her chair.

  Caleb knew the garden was around the back of the house, but he was surprised Julia had been out there for so long. There was little to do in the fall except harvesting the vegetables that were late to produce. Most of her harvest had been canned already.

  Coming around the corner of the house, Caleb stopped abruptly in his tracks. Julia was sitting on the far side of the garden, facing the house. She had her knees drawn up under her dress and her arms wrapped around her knees. Even from where he stood, he could tell she was upset. From where he stood, he could tell she wanted to be alone.

  But he was clueless as to what he should do because it was obvious she had already seen him.

  Julia stared at him a moment—a moment when neither of them moved. Sweat trickled down his back as he held the glass of water and felt like a complete fool, but then she raised her hand and waved him over.

  He couldn’t have stopped the grin on his face if he wanted to, and he didn’t want to. She was upset about something, but maybe he could help—that’s what friends did, right? And they were friends, or at least acquaintances. Making his way around her garden, he joined her on the slope.

  Together they stared at the house. After a few moments, he remembered the glass of water he was holding.

  “Your mamm sent this. She thought you might be thirsty.”

  Julia sighed and turned toward him to accept it. When she turned her brown eyes up at him, Caleb had the sensation he was falling. That made no sense at all as he was firmly seated on the ground. Maybe he was the one who needed to drink the water.

  What was more unsettling was that she had plainly been crying. Her eyes were red and a little puffy.

  Caleb had no idea what he was supposed to do, so he pushed the glass into her hands and said, “Um…maybe it will make you…um…feel better.”

  Julia laughed, but it wasn’t a real laugh. It was a sad laugh, like when you wanted to pretend something was funny, like when you wanted to cover up your true feelings. “I doubt it will, but I’ll drink it since you were so kind to bring it out to me.”

  She sipped some of the water, and then they fell back into a comfortable silence. From where he was sitting, Caleb could see Red eating a bare spot into the front yard where he’d left him. The gelding could not be hungry, but he was a creature of habit.

  After the silence had stretched on for another moment, Caleb decided he should say something. But what?

  Julia was miserable. She was heartsick and she was hot. Worse, she couldn’t find a solution to her problems. Now her mother had sent out Caleb Zook. The poor man looked completely lost.

  He cleared his throat and said, “Problem with the garden?”

  Julia set the glass down between them, put her forehead against her crossed arms, and started laughing in earnest. Unfortunately, the laughter turned to tears.

  “It was a bad joke.” Caleb patted her on the back. “I can see that your garden is fine. My mouth trips me up when I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry.”

  “Nein. It’s not your fault.” Julia rubbed at her eyes. They already felt as if they had dirt sprinkled in them, and rubbing made the sensation worse. “I’m acting like a child, and I’m making you feel bad about it.”

  When he didn’t speak, Julia peeked over at him.

  “You’re honestly worried about how I feel?” Caleb gave her a lopsided grin. His dark hair needed cutting, but his face was open and honest. He’d always been kind to both her and her mother.

  Her mother!

  “I don’t know what I’m worried about,” Julia admitted. “I had a fight with my mother. Not a fight, actually. More a disagreement. She issued a decree, and now—well, now I don’t know what to think or what to do. So I came out to the garden.”

  “You have a lovely garden.”

  “Danki.” She smiled again, this time one that came from her heart and caused a pain all the way down to her stomach. “I’ve always loved working out here. It’s one of the reasons I enjoy cooking.”

  “The stew inside smelled gut.”

  Julia shook her head. “That’s what I mean. Take a single man like you, Caleb. How do you eat?”

  “I’m not following. You had a fight with Ada about how I eat?”

  “Not exactly, but how do you eat?”

  “I eat well enough.” He patted his stomach, though Julia noticed he didn’t carry much extra weight. “You can tell I’m not starving.”

  “Would you stay for dinner if we offered?”

  Caleb squinted at her. “Are you offering?”

  “I’m saying this badly. Describe to me what you eat in a normal week.”

  “Probably not what you’d consider gut meals,” he admitted. “A lot of meat, since I hunt and fish. Less well as far as vegetables, unless Aaron and Lydia have me over. I try not to impose on them too often.”

  Julia nodded. “That’s why a café would be perfect for Amish and Englisch.”

  “A café?”

  “Yes! But mamm wouldn’t even listen. Instead she told me about this ridiculous decision she and dat had made more than a year ago, apparently. Had anyone told me? Nein. Not until now. Not until the day I finally had the courage to tell her about my dream.”

  She closed her eyes and fought back the tears that threatened to spill again.

  Caleb didn’t rush her. He didn’t call her foolish or tell her she was acting like a baby, and yes—she realized that sitting in the garden and crying was childish on one level. Instead, he sat patiently beside her and waited. He treated her as a friend would.

  How long had it been since Julia had confided in a friend?

  She had them—overall, the women in her district were kind. But she wasn’t particularly close to any one person. She had no one to run to when she was hurting like this.

  “You don’t want to hear my problems.”

  “I don’t?”

  “And probably yo
u need to go.”

  Caleb shielded his eyes against the afternoon sun. “The last delivery isn’t that important—only a box of things that needs to go to Aaron and Lydia at the cabins.” He smiled and even winked at her. “It’s no problem.”

  Julia felt heat rise in her cheeks. Had Caleb Zook winked at her? Was he flirting or just trying to make her laugh again?

  “But I should probably see to my horse before he tears all the grass out of your front yard.”

  “Oh. It’s okay if you need to go.”

  “Nein. I’ll move him toward the barn. Walk over with me?”

  Julia considered saying no, but her choices were to walk with Caleb, go inside with her mother, or stay here in the garden sulking.

  Standing, she dusted off the back of her dress. “At least I won’t have to mow that spot.”

  “Mow? If we leave Red there any longer, you’ll have to take a hoe to that patch and plant another garden.”

  They walked toward the front and talked of the fall colors, and of how the Plain Cabins were doing since Aaron and Lydia had taken over their management. Caleb said the cabins were usually full of guests—typically Englisch families but occasionally Amish folks from surrounding districts. They also discussed the large shopping center in town, Amish Anthem. Julia told Caleb how much controversy had surrounded the building’s remodel, as well as the Englisch owner Byron Drake. They spoke of everything except what was burdening Julia’s heart.

  Caleb untied Red, who nudged at Julia’s hand.

  When she pulled some raisins out of her pocket and offered them to the gelding, Caleb shook his head in mock disgust. “You’re spoiling my fine horse.”

  For a moment she could almost believe it was another Tuesday afternoon when Caleb had stopped by to deliver groceries and brighten her week.

  It wasn’t though.

  The earlier conversation with her mother still echoed through her mind. It still pricked her heart. As she glanced around the property that she had lived on her entire life, she realized anew that soon she would be leaving her home beside Pebble Creek.