An Amish Proposal for Christmas, page 9
She didn’t share any of those thoughts as they traveled back toward the market. Elizabeth’s box sat between them on the buggy seat, right beside Becca’s regrets and worries and doubts—feelings that she had absolutely no idea what to do with.
* * *
Gideon readied for work on Friday morning, four days after visiting Elizabeth King’s home. That particular story had ended well. The stocks were worth more than anyone among the auctioneers had guessed—and they’d all guessed. Elizabeth’s son had arrived to accompany her to her new home, and he’d been greeted by a big surprise in the form of a check from Elizabeth’s bank. When tears had slipped down the man’s face, something inside Gideon had twisted. It wasn’t often you saw a man cry, let alone an Amish man. They had been tears of joy, and Gideon had felt a satisfaction unlike anything he’d known before. They had a hand in making this family’s life better—he and Jeremy, the other auctioneers, even Becca.
It occurred to him that such a thing was as important as planting and harvesting a crop—perhaps even more important.
“Big to-do at the market this weekend, ya?” Nathan smiled as he shoveled scrambled eggs onto both their plates.
“Ya, indeed. Becca says the crowds will be larger than what we had on Memorial Day, and those were quite large.”
Nathan filled their mugs and sat down across from Gideon. He had tried telling Nathan that there was no need to fix him breakfast, but the old guy seemed to enjoy sharing the meal together. Gideon had switched his JoJo’s pretzel habit to afternoons. He would miss both JoJo’s and Nathan when he left.
If he left.
“You’re meeting with Amos on Monday.”
“I am.”
“Any idea what you’ll say to him?”
“Honestly—no.” Gideon reached for a piece of the fresh bread that Becca’s oldest schweschder dropped off every week. The Indiana Amish were a different lot, with fancier houses and nicer buggies, but they cared for those in the community same as the families in his hometown of Beeville cared for one another.
He buttered the bread, then added a spoonful of jam, which he meticulously spread out. “Honestly, my mind goes back and forth. Some days, I’m sure that I should head back home. Other days, I realize that I’m enjoying being here.”
“Love, respect, priorities.”
It had become their mantra, their special code to one another.
“I will pray that you know for certain—in your mind and your heart—what you should do.”
“Thanks, Nathan.” Gideon finished his breakfast, then stood and carried his dishes to the sink. “I suspect I might be late coming home. It’s bound to be an interesting day.”
“Don’t worry about me. Melvin is going to pick me up and take me fishing today.”
“You two leave some for the youngies, okay?”
“Ya, we will, for sure and certain.”
Gideon arrived at the market thirty minutes before his regular time, and still the place was abuzz with activity. The June Weekend Flea Market didn’t actually begin until noon, but additional vendors were there early, setting up tables filled with goods they hoped to sell.
Several of his regular vendors called out a greeting as he made his way across the market grounds. Amos wasn’t in his office, but Becca was in theirs. She wore a peach-colored dress and a freshly starched white apron and kapp. Often she drove him to distraction with her energy and optimism and endless certainty, but like Nathan, the vendors and the entire market, he would miss her.
His feelings for her were complicated. Some days, she seemed like a pesky younger schweschder. Other days—well, other days he thought he’d been out in the heat too long, because she looked like someone he would ask out to dinner. He didn’t. He wasn’t a fool. Becca Fisher was not in the market for a beau, unless he happened to be driving a bus headed out of town.
She’d been giving him space—her words, not his. He suspected she was still embarrassed about the buggy-day setup that had gone awry. At the moment, she was trying to juggle a large box of water bottles, a stack of flyers and cardboard hand fans. The fans and water bottles sported their market logo and the web page address.
“Let me take that.”
“They’re not heavy, just awkward.” She surrendered the large box of water bottles and snatched up the camera from her desk, looping the strap around her neck.
“Still can’t believe your bishop allows pictures.”
“Tasteful pictures, Gideon.”
“Ah, well, if they’re tasteful...” Actually, Becca’s photography habit had stopped bothering him several weeks ago. It wasn’t like she was tweeting the pictures or posting them on Instagram or Snapchat. Honestly, Gideon didn’t understand what any of those things were, but he did understand the value of good promotional material. Becca was a natural at promoting her father’s market. He wondered if she’d do the same for MDS missions. That thought caused his stomach to clench, so he pushed it from his mind.
Together they carried everything outside into another day of bright sunshine.
He was always surprised when the sun didn’t hit him with the ferocity of a Texas summer day. Instead, there was a gentle breeze from the north. The temperature was supposed to rise to eighty-eight degrees—a real scorcher, by Indiana standards. It felt like spring to Gideon.
“These must have been delivered after we left, or you’d already have them at the gate.”
“Would you believe the delivery receipt says they came at seven last night? Who works until seven in the evening?”
“An Amish farmer harvesting his crop.”
“Sometimes.”
“A doctor.”
“I suppose.”
“An Englisch delivery driver.”
“I guess I deserve your ridiculous answers. I did ask you to answer that question, though now I’m rather regretting it.”
He bumped his shoulder against hers, causing laughter to spill from her lips. Becca had very kissable lips, if there was such a thing. Not that Gideon knew from having tried. He couldn’t see himself doing that.
“Ready for the weekend?”
“I am.”
She didn’t ask if he’d made his decision, and he appreciated that. She’d managed to stay out of his business. He knew that wasn’t her nature. Which was probably why he started kidding her.
“It’s killing you. Isn’t it?”
“What?”
“Not knowing what I’m going to do.”
“Oh, that.”
“Yes, that.”
“You’d tell me if you wanted me to know.”
“I’d tell you if I knew.” And then they were at the gate, and work precluded any other conversation. She placed the water bottles on the counter of the welcome booth, where young Ada had been drafted into working.
“Why do I have to stay in this booth all day, Becca?”
“Because you lost your job at Yoder’s.”
“For sitting in a rocking chair. Since when is that a crime?”
“Since they were paying you to stock shelves.”
“Everyone needs a rest now and then.”
“The rocking chairs are for customers.”
“I had an entire group around me, asking questions about Amish life. What was I supposed to do? Leave them and go restock garden tools?”
Gideon tried to act as if he wasn’t listening in on their conversation, but then he started laughing, which caused Ada to laugh. She always had a bright attitude, even when she was being corralled into another job. Becca tried to give them both a disappointed look as she unpacked hand fans and stacked them on the right-hand side of where Ada was supposed to stand.
“Water bottles on the left. Fans on the right. Maps in your hand. Do you remember what we went over last night?”
“Smile at the customers.”
“Always.”
“Make sure they have a map.”
“It has our web page. Hopefully, they’ll take it home with them and click on our site and buy something.”
“Then I offer them a water bottle or a fan.”
“Gut girl.”
“What if they don’t want a water bottle or fan? What if I get overrun with Englischers? What if I need a bathroom break?”
“Bethany promised to be here by ten. She’ll cover the booth during your breaks and lunch.”
“She’ll probably bring her knitting and ignore everyone. I should have thought of that.”
“You don’t knit.”
“I could learn.”
Gideon unpacked as many of the water bottles as would fit on the counter, then he stored the still half-full box on the ground inside the booth. He rather enjoyed the banter between Becca and Ada. It made him feel like he was part of their family. It made him miss home a little less.
“Both of you stay right there.” Becca hustled out of the booth. Stepping back about ten feet, she lifted her camera and said, “On three.”
Gideon glanced at Ada, and they both started laughing. On three, he ducked his head, and she turned to the side.
“Perfect!” Becca practically squealed. “You two are very gut at this.”
She showed them the picture on the camera’s playback screen. As he suspected, it could have been a picture of any Amish guy and girl—which was what they wanted. Give the customers a feel of the plain and simple life, but without either of them attempting to be a model. Basically, they saw the straw hat of an Amish guy looking down at the welcome flyers and an Amish girl in profile.
“We look gut together, Gideon. Maybe we should go to work for an Amish magazine. Are there Amish magazines?” Ada was leaning against the counter of the booth. “Anything would be better than being the welcome gal.”
Gideon tossed her a sympathetic smile. “You know, Ada...you could take over my job.”
“Would I be Becca’s boss?”
Becca looked up from the camera. “I’d be gone, schweschder. That’s the point of finding a replacement.”
“I’m not interested, then. It would only be fun if I was able to boss you around. Honestly, I don’t think I’d be very gut at your job, Becca. Besides, you two are a wunderbaar team. Dat said so last night.”
Gideon turned an inquisitive look toward Becca, but her eyebrows shot up in mock surprise. “No idea what she’s talking about.”
The way that she blushed made Gideon think that might not be true. Was she embarrassed? Why?
As Becca and Gideon walked away, Ada called out, “Don’t just leave me here.”
“Try to enjoy the morning. Bethany will be here before you know it.”
Becca was walking backward and nearly ran into a woman pulling a wagon full of birdhouses that she hoped to sell. Gideon reached out for Becca’s arm, pulling her out of the woman’s path.
“That’s an hour and a half away.” When Becca only waved at her, Ada called out in an even louder voice, “Time is supposed to hop when you’re having fun, but I don’t think it will.”
That caused them both to laugh. Another Ada-ism.
He would miss those too. And suddenly, a thought nearly knocked him off his feet. He would like to see Christmas in Indiana. The extravaganza and gingerbread competition and yard decorations. Maybe—just possibly—Texas wasn’t all he’d built it up to be. Maybe happiness wasn’t where you were but who you were with. Maybe he’d been looking at his future all wrong.
Chapter Eight
Gideon awoke the next morning with the same bone weariness he associated with working in the fields all day. The market had closed at eight the night before. He and Becca had stayed until half past nine helping vendors close and preparing for the next day.
Fortunately, the market was only open half a day on Saturday—from eight until two. They had church the next day, and on Monday, he’d tell Amos his decision. He planned to work through the next week, which would take him exactly to the one-month mark. He realized as he dressed that his mind seemed to have already made a decision without consulting his emotions. Perhaps that was as it should be.
For breakfast, Nathan made French toast topped with locally made syrup. It really hit the spot. At this rate, Nathan’s cooking would surpass JoJo’s and his kitchen would become Gideon’s new favorite place. Though he had to admit, he’d grown rather fond of his daily pretzel. He’d miss those when he returned to Beeville. His mind flashed back on the thoughts he’d had the night before—thoughts of spending Christmas with Becca. He didn’t linger there, though. As was his usual method of dealing with all things uncomfortable, he pushed the thoughts away and focused on work.
The morning progressed in much the same manner as the day before. He helped Becca take more supplies to the welcome booth. Ada was once again ensconced there, though she’d found a stool to perch on rather than stand all day.
“Dat had to really pull my arm to get me to come back today.”
“Do you mean twist your arm?” Becca smiled at Ada.
“I mean pull. In fact, he had to practically pull me into the buggy. I wasn’t too eager to get up. The excellent news is that he promised I could have next week off to look for gainful employment. Can you believe that’s what he calls it? The only thing I seem to gain from working is a headache.”
“You’re a peach, sis.”
“Do you think so?”
“I do.” Becca handed her a bottle filled with ice water. Gideon remembered her once saying that Ada was the family pet. It was plain how much they all adored her, and somehow it didn’t make her haughty or spoiled. Ada was like the runt of the litter—the one everyone pulled for and encouraged.
Gideon winked at her, but resisted the urge to reach out and tug on her kapp strings. “Call if you need anything, Ada.”
“I don’t have a phone.”
“Just tell someone. They’ll find me.”
Becca was grinning at him as they walked back across the market square. Their plan was for him to cover the west side of the market, which included the Backyard Barnyard and the red parking area. Becca would cover the east side and the blue parking area. At eleven, they would switch sides.
“I worry when you smile like that. Are you a cat? Are you hiding a canary in your mouth?” He acted as if he was going to pry open her mouth, and she ducked away.
“No canary. I was thinking about how much you’ve changed in the last month.”
“I have not.”
“Oh, yes you have. You never smiled when you first came here.”
“I didn’t?”
“You were quite serious.”
“I’m still serious.” He tried to school his expression into something more somber, but he couldn’t hold it. He couldn’t look at Becca and not smile. When had that happened?
“You acted as if you were afraid to get to know anyone.”
“This place definitely takes some getting used to.” He no longer felt lost or overwhelmed walking through the market grounds. In fact, it felt as if he knew this place as well as he knew the family farm back home.
They parted ways with a high five, something else he had rarely done before a month ago. The morning passed quickly. He was considering taking a lunch break when a familiar face appeared in the crowd. He almost thought he was hallucinating, but there was no doubt that the man walking his way was David Hershberger.
“If it isn’t Gideon Fisher. I thought that was your ugly mug I saw.” The two old friends embraced. Actually, Gideon hadn’t spent that much time with David the last few years. He’d rarely left the farm unless it was for church services. But when they were youngies fresh out of the schoolroom, they’d often seen each other.
“David. What...what are you doing here?”
“Visiting family. Didn’t I tell you I was coming?”
“Nein. So, you came up on the bus?”
“I did. Long ways from Beeville, isn’t it?” David held out his arms. “Just look at all the people. More than we see at home in a year.”
“Indeed. Say, I was about to break for lunch. Want to join me?”
Gideon had forgotten all about the fact that he was supposed to meet Becca. No matter—she found him. Becca seemed to have an innate sense of where everyone was at any given time. As she called his name and walked toward him, Gideon saw her as David must have—young, pretty, vibrant.
“Who’s the gal?”
Fortunately, Becca pushed quickly through the crowd to stand beside them, so Gideon was able to avoid the suggestive arc of David’s eyebrows.
“Becca, this is my friend from Beeville, David Hershberger.”
“Gut to meet you. Did you come all the way from Texas for today’s flea market?”
“I did not. I came to see my cousins, who actually live over in Goshen. They were all coming to the flea market today, so I thought I’d come along and look for this guy.” He playfully pushed Gideon, causing him to brush up against Becca.
She blushed slightly, and David gave him another inquiring look.
Gideon took a discreet step away from Becca. “I thought I’d take David over to JoJo’s for lunch. Care to join us?”
“Can’t. I grabbed a granola bar earlier.”
“Do you need me to stay?”
“Not at all. East side’s looking all in order. Take as long as you’d like, just be sure to be back in time to help with closing at two.”
Gideon glanced at his watch. It was only a few minutes after eleven, but his stomach was growling. “Sounds gut. Want me to bring back a pretzel for you?”
“Nein. But danki.”
And then she was gone, ducking back through the crowd.
David let out a long whistle. “You’re going to have to tell me all about that one.”
