An Amish Proposal for Christmas, page 4
Her dat handed her a half sheet of paper filled with his precise handwriting. “Thought you might cover those items with Gideon this week.”
“You know, Dat, Gideon’s feeling rather uncertain about this whole thing.”
“What whole thing? What do you mean, uncertain?”
It occurred to her that what Gideon had shared with her might have been told in confidence. So instead of answering either of those questions, she pushed forward with her plan. “I thought that I might ask him what he’d like to learn today. Let him sort of set the pace and direction of his training.”
Her dat looked at her as if she was wearing suspenders over her dress.
She hurried to assure him. “We’ll still cover everything on your list but maybe let him pick the order.”
“Well.” He wiped his mouth with his napkin, stood and kissed each of his doschdern on top of the head. When he came to Becca, he said, “I trust you to see to his training, but he’ll need to be acquainted with every aspect of the market.”
“Ya, of course.”
He planted a kiss on top of her head, making her feel four years old again—and for some reason, causing tears to sting her eyes. Why was she so emotional today? Perhaps she was catching a cold.
“Buggy leaves in twenty minutes,” he said as he walked out of the kitchen.
Becca deposited her dishes in the sink.
Ada finally looked and sounded awake. “I can’t believe Dat’s insisting I look for another job today.”
“You didn’t exactly have the last one long enough to earn vacation time,” Sarah pointed out.
“I wish I was still in school. Those were the gut old days, for sure.”
All five girls laughed at that, as Ada hadn’t been the school’s most devoted student. Becca grabbed her purse and checked her reflection in the mirror. It wouldn’t do to show up at work looking less than her best. She had realized while tossing and turning that—for better or worse, fair or not—Gideon had a poor opinion of their community.
If she wanted to be free by August, she was going to need to change that.
* * *
Gideon squinted his eyes, regarding her suspiciously. “What’s the catch?”
“No catch. I was actually listening to what you said yesterday.”
He shifted in his chair uncomfortably. They were sitting in Becca’s office, which was about the size of a mudroom. Her dat had somehow managed to cram in a desk, two chairs and a filing cabinet. There was a window, though it was a small one. He could see the patch of blue sky outside, which reminded him that he’d rather be working in the fields.
Becca cleared her throat, and he turned his attention back to the map of the market she’d handed him.
“You want me to pick what I want to learn.”
“Didn’t you say that you wanted to make more of your own decisions?”
He dropped the map on her desk. “I was referring to being here at all.”
“Ya. I picked up on that. The only trouble is that I can’t really change where you are—though you can.”
He felt his frown turn into a more pronounced scowl. Little Becca Yoder freely dispensed her own kind of wisdom, which she had gained by the ripe old age of...what?
“How old are you? Twenty-two?”
“Twenty-four, and what does that have to do with anything?”
Instead of explaining what he’d been thinking, he shrugged. Twenty-four! He’d thought he knew it all at that age, but he soon learned that life was more complicated than he could have imagined. The last four years had been a real awakening. First, his parents had tried to set him up on dates; then they’d insisted he apprentice with their bishop, who made buggies. How many buggies were needed in a community of a dozen families? Finally, they’d contacted Becca’s dat and pressured Gideon to apply for the position. It hadn’t actually been an ultimatum, but it had felt like one. It was plain that because he was unmarried and not even dating, they didn’t know what to do with him.
And he had gone along with their plans because he’d seen what it meant to them. He sighed and leaned forward to study the offending map.
“Explain it to me again.”
“Look, it’s not that difficult. Dat handed me a list this morning...”
Gideon groaned.
He was surprised when that caused her to laugh.
“You have no idea how much I understand that response. Anyway...you expressed that you’d like to make your own decisions. How about this week, we let your interests drive what you learn first? You’ve had a brief introduction to the market grounds. Look at the map, and tell me what you’d like to focus on today.”
He ran a finger from the Backyard Barnyard to the livestock barn.
“I thought we had three weeks left of me shadowing you.”
“That doesn’t mean we have to be together all day, every day. It simply means you’re not on your own yet. Any questions you have, find me and ask. Of course, that’s true for the next ninety days, but the point is that no one expects you to know what to do yet.”
“I get it. Okay. Farmers tend to divide work on their land into sections. How about I take this northwest quadrant, and you make some suggestions as to what I need to do there?”
“Excellent.”
They spent the next thirty minutes going over delivery schedules and quality checks that needed to be done. He left with a list scribbled on a sheet of paper, but it was his own list in his own handwriting. That went a long way toward brightening his outlook.
Except he was completely overwhelmed before the morning had passed. The barnyard was in absolute pandemonium. Several of the goats were loose, and he managed to corral them back into their pens but only after covering his pants in dirt and hay. Apparently, the young man working there was new to the job and had no idea what he was supposed to be doing. Who was training him? Was that Gideon’s job?
In addition, the wrong feed had been delivered to the barnyard. Someone had left twelve sacks of bunny food and nothing for the goats, pony, sheep or llama. Not to mention the llama had spit at him. He knew enough about llamas to understand that an unhappy llama was a difficult one. He’d need to speak to the boy about handling the tan-colored animal. It certainly didn’t need to be in a petting zoo until it was more settled.
First things first, though. He needed to resolve the missing-feed situation. He had to hurry back to the office to find out what he should do about that. By the time he got there, Becca was gone. He found her on the opposite end of the market in the blue parking lot, checking on a new horse-and-buggy area that was being redone for Amish vendors as well as visitors.
Just seeing her there irritated him to such a degree that even he realized it was irrational. She looked completely at home among the Englisch and Amish employees. In fact, they listened to her as if they respected her—and maybe they did. They even laughed at her joke, which he’d thought was quite silly.
“Why couldn’t the pony sing in the choir?” She paused for three beats—not too long but not too short. “Because he was a little hoarse.”
All the employees laughed except Gideon, who stood at the back, trying to catch her attention. She reminded everyone of their goal for the day; then, as the group broke up, she hurried back to where Gideon was waiting.
“What’s wrong?”
“Everything. Some of the goats escaped, the llama is very unsettled and your barnyard manager has no idea what he’s doing. More importantly, the wrong feed was delivered. I ran back to the office only to find you were here at the other end of the market.”
“I’m rarely in my office. There isn’t much time for that.”
“Obviously. So how am I supposed to ask you questions?”
She studied him a moment, then smiled. “I have an idea.”
Ten minutes later, they were standing in a supply closet, and she was attempting to reach a box on the top shelf.
“I got it.” He retrieved it, resisting the urge to ask how this was going to help him with a lost feed delivery.
The first box she opened was filled with Christmas things. She pulled out a red-and-green-striped hat with white trim, placed it on top of her kapp and smiled.
“Please don’t say ho-ho-ho.”
She actually looked kind of cute in the hat, but he wasn’t about to encourage her Christmas obsession. She grabbed another box, balanced it on a lower shelf, opened it and pulled out two walkie-talkies. “I should have thought of this sooner.”
Gideon hadn’t held a walkie-talkie since he was a youngie. For a while, he and his bruders had a pair that they’d carried around. The problem had been charging them. After a few weeks, they’d ended up in the barn, on a shelf, gathering dust.
Becca blew off some dust, then turned her device on and smiled when the light turned green. “They held their charge. Cool.”
“Cool?”
She tilted her head at him. “You’re pretty uptight.”
“Are these approved by your bishop?” He felt old and cranky asking such a thing, but the question popped out as if of its own volition.
“Yes, Gideon. Bishop Ezekiel has allowed walkies and even telephones in our office. You might have seen one on my desk.” She was on a roll now, challenging him and mocking him in even measure. Pointing toward the single light mounted on the ceiling, she added, “Believe it or not, we’re even allowed to have electricity because it’s at our job.”
“Okay. Whatever.”
“Do you know how to work a walkie?”
“Yes, I know how to work one.”
“Excellent. Problem solved.” She put her Christmas hat back in the box, an abject look of longing on her face. Shaking her head, she returned her attention to him. “Keep it on channel three. The range is good enough that you should be able to reach me anywhere on the property.”
“Why don’t we just purchase cell phones?” He meant it as a barb, irritated at her overall attitude—irritated at himself, if he were being honest.
“We could,” she admitted, ushering him out of the supply closet and toward her office. “But cell phones come with a monthly payment for the service. These don’t.”
He was still standing by the closet door. Becca had continued down the hall. Now she turned, raised the walkie to her mouth and pushed the button. The device in his hand crackled with her amused voice. “How about we go and clear up the feed order?”
That particular issue was resolved with one call, but unfortunately, Gideon’s problems didn’t end there. The day literally went downhill. His quality checks resulted in some very disgruntled managers. He’d pointed out that the visitor restrooms needed more hand soap and paper towels, the livestock barn had stalls that hadn’t been mucked out, and the auction restaurant had sticky menus.
“Yes, but how did you say those things?” Becca asked when they debriefed that afternoon.
“How did I say it?”
“What was your tone of voice?”
“I don’t know what my tone of voice was.”
“Probably the one you’re using now, which isn’t...well, it isn’t pleasant.”
Gideon had thrown up his hands at that.
“Seriously?”
“Yes, Gideon. Maybe they were in the process of getting to those things. Maybe you could have complimented something they did before you criticized what they hadn’t finished yet.”
He’d cradled his head in his hands at that point.
“Headache?”
“A-yup.”
“No worries. It’ll get better.”
But Tuesday was no better. It rained, so even though the market was open, crowds were down. Becca and Gideon were able to stay in the office and tackle paperwork. He tried to focus, but honestly, he probably only heard half of what Becca said. He didn’t like being in the small office. The sound of rain on the roof reminded him that normally he’d be working in the barn on a rainy day. Sharing the small space made him uncomfortable. He could smell whatever shampoo Becca used. He had to listen to her humming Christmas songs, and she had a habit of glancing up and smiling at him. He already spent too much of his time away from the market thinking about Becca Yoder and her words of wisdom; he did not need to be confined in a closet-sized office with her all day.
Wednesday was once again market day, and if anything, the crowds seemed larger than the week before. He’d chosen to spend his time covering the green parking lot and adjacent vendor stalls. This included the bus drop-off and pickup. It seemed to Gideon that there was a continuous stream of Amish and Englisch exiting the buses. The line of cars entering the parking lot stretched down the road. He’d skipped lunch trying to resolve a disagreement between vendors in booths 621 and 622. The result had been two unhappy vendors and a worsening of his mood—something he hadn’t thought possible.
By the time Becca called it a day and left, Gideon was ready to crawl onto the last bus and see how far it would take him. He had a pounding headache and a grumbling stomach, and he felt as if his life was spiraling out of control.
This situation simply was not acceptable.
Becca had been right about one thing—he did make choices, even if it was to go along with other people’s choices.
It was time that he stop complaining and take charge of his own life. It was time that he stood up to his parents. He stared at the phone on her desk, pulled in a deep breath and picked up the receiver.
Chapter Four
Becca didn’t mean to eavesdrop. She’d caught up with Gideon at the bus pickup area, seen the sour look on his face and suggested they call it a day. Then she’d made one more round of the vendor stalls before heading back to her dat’s office. Her dat hadn’t been quite ready to go, so she’d popped back over to her office to work through twenty minutes of paperwork. She stopped outside the door upon hearing Gideon’s voice. She’d thought he’d left.
Why was he still here?
Who was he talking to?
It didn’t take long for her to figure out he was arguing with his parents. If anything, his Texas accent was more pronounced, and at times he even raised his voice.
“Ya, I know what we agreed to, but you don’t understand.” There was a pause, and then he said in a quieter, more Amish tone of voice, “I’m not gut at this. I don’t belong here. It’s unlike anything you can imagine, Dat. There are more Englischers in one day here at the market than you or I would see in a year. And the Amish—I’m not even sure they are Amish, they act so much like the Englisch.”
That was rather a rude thing to say, in Becca’s opinion. She considered herself very Amish. Besides, what did that even mean?
There was a pause; then Gideon said, “I didn’t say I was judging. I said I don’t fit here. This is not the right position for me.”
There was another pause, a longer one this time.
She had to press her ear against the door to hear Gideon’s response: “Ya. Ya, of course, but—” followed by another long pause.
She wished she could hear what his parents were saying. She suspected they were on her side in this particular situation.
The nerve of the guy.
He was trying to quit on her.
She couldn’t believe it.
He’d been here a week, and he was already throwing in the towel. It made her so mad that she thought her kapp might pop off her head. She was probably focused on that, on her anger, and that was why she didn’t hear him end the call. When he pulled the door open, she practically fell into the office.
He scowled down at her. “Eavesdropping? Seriously?”
But she was too upset to be embarrassed. It was time that she set Gideon straight about a few things, and he was going to listen. He’d promised them ninety days, and one way or another, she was going to hold him to it.
“You were calling home. I can’t believe you were calling home.”
“You can dock me for the long-distance charges.” He flapped a hand at the phone and scowled at her again.Then, in three long strides, he was out of the office.
Becca stood there with her mouth hanging open.
She couldn’t believe this was happening. Her future was evaporating before her eyes—like a cloud dissipating on a summer day. She heard Gideon’s work boots on the stairs, heading down, heading out, heading to his buggy.
She had to go after him!
Careful to close the door gently behind her so as not to alert her dat to anything that was going on, she hurried after Gideon. He had the advantage of a longer stride and an intense desire to get away from her. Becca broke into a jog, smiling and waving at vendors as she passed their booths. She popped out of the line of stalls only a few yards from the employee buggy-parking area.
Gideon had already hitched up Nathan’s horse and was about to climb into the buggy.
Becca broke into a sprint.
She arrived next to his buggy, gasping and holding her hand against the stitch in her side. “Wait. Stop. Don’t go.”
“No worries, Becca. I’m not planning on driving Nathan’s horse and buggy back to Texas.”
The expression on his face held so much misery that she almost took pity on him. Almost. He was her ticket out of here. He needed to buck up and do his job.
“Just...come out of the buggy for a second.”
“Why?”
“Because we need to talk.”
“Why?”
“Because my future depends on what you do.” She wasn’t sure she should have said that. She had no idea if it was a good thing or a bad thing to be so brutally honest. But then, what did she have to lose? This guy was probably going to catch the morning bus back to Texas. He’d arrive back before the bluebonnets turned into paintbrushes. “Just please—just get out for a minute.”
He sighed heavily, then set the brake on the buggy and climbed out.
Becca moved to scratch the gelding behind his ears. Samson—that was the horse’s name. Nathan’s wife had named the animal when they’d purchased it. Becca had still been in school at the time. She could remember the smile on Mary Troyer’s face the next Sunday, when she’d caught Becca feeding the horse a carrot. “He’s a beautiful boy, ya?” And all these years later, he still was.
