A Plain Man Page 3

  “That would be Rebekah.” Frowning, Sarah glanced over her shoulder. “She’s always sneaking up on me as though trying to catch me in something naughty. What does she think I do behind her back? You would think we were still little girls.”

  He offered no advice, having learned to steer clear of sisterly squabbles long ago.

  “Anyway, to what do I owe this rare honor? Did you have business with Roy?” Hefting her tote to her shoulder, she turned her pretty honey-brown eyes up to him.

  “Not business, just killing time till you got off work.”

  “Are you finished at the Weavers?” Sarah glanced back toward the inn once more.

  “Jah. Mainly I want to stay out of Daed’s way.”

  Her young forehead creased into deep furrows. “But I thought you planned to work for him in construction.”

  “I suppose I will, but no projects have started yet. He hasn’t said anything since supper that night.”

  “You could broach the subject, Cal. He’s not going to bite your head off.”

  “Okay, but right now I came to ask about a pancake breakfast in Shreve this weekend.” He kicked a stone down the leaf-strewn path. It landed in a mud puddle with a satisfying plop.

  Sarah stopped short and grabbed his jacket sleeve. “Why, are you thinking you might go? Actually mingle with other live human beings? You do realize you’d be forced to leave Beachy land, don’t you?”

  Caleb shrugged from her grasp. “Very funny, but I haven’t made up my mind yet. James Weaver keeps bugging me to attend. He says it’s a great place to meet single women.” He rolled his eyes.

  “Oh, this is good news. Lee Ann said I should help you get back into the flow.”

  “Mrs. Pratt is worried about my social life?”

  “In a perfectly harmless way.” Sarah picked up their pace as though the breakfast was today and they were already late. “James is correct. There’ll be plenty of single women in Shreve that day. You’ll have a great time.”

  “Not if all the women are Englisch. I don’t need to meet more of them.” Briefly the image of dark-haired Kristen flitted through his mind, with her tight blue jeans and figure-hugging sweaters. He had behaved shamefully with her and done things he would regret for the rest of his life. All because he’d thought they were in love. But when his fat paychecks dried up and he had no money to spend, Kristen started dating someone else. Caleb shook his head to rid himself of the painful memory.

  “Not to worry. Probably half the people attending will be Plain,” she said. “Adam took me once and I bought ten different kinds of maple sugar candy. I ate so much in one day I got a bellyache.”

  “Do you think you and Adam would like to go too?” Caleb tried to make the question sound a little less desperate. “If we are in a group, I might be able to relax. Otherwise, I’m afraid James will attempt to have us both seriously courting by sundown, if not engaged.”

  She chuckled. “Sure, Adam and I would love to go. It will be fun. He’s always begging me to go more places with him. And who doesn’t love pancakes swimming in real maple syrup?” Sarah ran to the pasture fence. One of their Holsteins had wandered up to the rails with her newborn calf. Just as Sarah’s fingers almost reached the downy head, the calf scampered between his mother’s legs while the cow issued a loud moo in protest.

  “How long will you keep trying to pet new calves?” Caleb laughed at his sibling. “That is never going to happen.”

  “One of these days, I’ll catch a pair off-guard. It will be worth the wait.” She linked her arm through his elbow. “I’m so glad you want to meet Amish girls. It’s a step in the right direction.”

  “I’ve come home, Sarah. You don’t suppose I want to live with our parents forever, do you?”

  “I don’t know what your plans are, but you can confide in me. I won’t tell anyone and I won’t judge you.”

  Because you have no idea what I have done. Caleb gazed down on her fresh, innocent face. “I don’t have many plans other than get a job, join the church, and I suppose settle down with the right girl. As long as she’s not too picky about my checkered past.” He forced a laugh.

  “You were on rumschpringe,” she said very softly.

  “Not for five years I wasn’t.”

  “Everybody has a fair share of problems in life. If not while they’re young, maybe when they’re older.”

  “How about you, little sister? You got problems?” Caleb was eager to turn the topic away from him.

  “Other than Adam Troyer nagging me to get married? No, I’m good.” Her laughter could have awakened hibernating bears.

  “I thought that decision was behind you.”

  “It is, but he wishes I had joined the church last year. Now I can’t be baptized until the fall.”

  “If I remember correctly, Adam is a good man. He’ll wait far longer than fall if necessary.” As they rounded a curve, Caleb halted as the Beachy farmhouse loomed into view—the house in which he’d been born; the house where he spent his entire life except for five years; the house in which he would probably die. With sunlight reflecting off the roof and upstairs windows, it seemed to glow from within.

  “Adam is a good man, and I will happily become his bride when the time comes.” Sarah sounded wistful, yet her lips pulled into a thin grimace.

  “Then why are you upset? Did some nosy Englischer ask one too many questions?”

  “No, I love it when they ask questions. Then I can ask some nosy questions of my own. It’s Rebekah who upsets me. She got on my last nerve at work. She always criticizes me in front of Mrs. Pratt. Today she accused me of watering down the orange juice and leaving spots on the glassware.” Sarah released a huff of breath. “Only one week back on the job but Rebekah thinks she’s an expert on everything.”

  “Lee Ann Pratt is your friend besides your employer. Whatever our sister says probably goes in one of her ears and out the other. Rebekah has followed you around since she learned to walk. Take her constant attention as high compliment. I think she admires you but is too prideful to admit it.”

  “I really don’t think that’s the reason. But just the same, could we forget to mention we’re going to the pancake breakfast on Saturday?” Sarah latched onto his sleeve.

  “She bothers you that much?” Caleb stared, amazed by the thin skin of the female half of the world.

  “I’ll ask Mrs. Pratt for Saturday morning off, but she can’t spare both of us. Country Pleasures is usually full on Friday nights, as well as Saturdays. If Rebekah hears James is going, she might leave Mrs. Pratt high and dry.”

  “As you wish. According to you, I seldom say two words to my family. So I guess I can avoid a heart-to-heart with Rebekah during the next couple of days.”

  “Good, then I’ll call Adam at work from Mrs. Pratt’s. You can count on him to hire a van to take us back and forth. He’s still got money from his last paycheck burning a hole in his pocket.”

  Caleb watched as Sarah slipped into the house and headed straight for the refrigerator. He remained on the porch, however, pondering how to spend the remaining afternoon. Releasing a weary sigh, he strode down the steps in search of his father. It was time to get the inevitable showdown with his new boss over with.

  Eli scratched his earlobe with one hand while swatting a pesky mosquito with the other. Not even April and already the biting insects were out in full force. How did that bode for mid-summer? Pushing his reading glasses back up his nose, he pored over the standard blueprint for a new banked barn. Even though he’d used these drawings to erect dozens of barns across three counties, plans would always change due to the terrain of the site, the number of anticipated helpers, and the pocketbook of the perspective owner. On his left sat a battery lantern. On his right waited a yellow tablet and pen to jot down his list of required materials.

  His office, carved years ago out of a corner of the barn, was a haven from the rest of his family. Not that Eli didn’t love his fraa and three daughters. But being the sole
male member of the Beachy household, he needed somewhere to work without constant questions like, Daed, is it all right if I stay at my friend’s house Saturday night, then ride to preaching with them?

  Or, Take a look at this fabric I bought in town. Won’t this make the prettiest dress you’ve ever seen?

  Or, on the rare occasions when none of his daughters were home, Eli could count on Elizabeth to break his train of thought: What would you like for supper tonight? No matter how many times he answered, “Whatever you feel like cooking,” she never stopped asking the question. Here in his office he could orchestrate the next barn project in their district, schedule the roofing jobs, which were his crew’s main source of income nine months out of the year, do payroll for his employees, and balance checking accounts for his family and the business without constant interruptions. And then there were his duties as bishop—a responsibility he took very seriously since drawing the lot many years ago. He would serve the Lord and his district for the rest of his life.

  But he wasn’t the sole male Beachy any longer. His prodigal son had returned—a shock to his system last December and a continual surprise each day he walked into a room and saw Caleb. Eli had expected an occasional visit after his son left to take up a new lifestyle. Most youths who refuse to join the church usually kept in touch with their families on a limited basis. But after five years without a single phone call or letter, Eli thought he’d seen the last of his firstborn. Although he never forgot Caleb in his prayers, he’d stopped praying for his return long ago. Lately Eli prayed for his health, safety, and for him to someday find the Christian path to salvation.

  Never in a million years would he have imagined his son would become Amish again. Of course, although Caleb regularly attended services with the family, he had yet to get baptized or take the kneeling vow of commitment.

  I’ll believe it when I see it. Eli reached for his thermos, hoping strong coffee would wash away his doubt and negativity. However, after a full mug he still felt just as mean-spirited. For distraction, Eli picked up the contract for a replacement roof for a warehouse complex. Since this would be paid commercial work, he would be obliged to hire Caleb—courtesy of his wife. At least his son wouldn’t stand around twiddling his thumbs. If there was a certain road to trouble it was idleness.

  Before Eli finished the second page outlining specifications and the anticipated timetable for completion, the scrape of a boot heel nearly stopped his heart.

  “Could I have a word with you?” Caleb asked over Eli’s shoulder.

  “Sure, I didn’t hear you come in.” Eli swept off his hat to scratch his prickly scalp. “You erased a few years from my life.”

  “Sorry, I cleared my throat in the doorway, but you must have been concentrating.” Caleb leaned over to peruse the roofing contract.

  “Sit, sit. You know I don’t like it when people hover.” Eli pointed at a metal chair used as a storage place for county trade periodicals.

  Gathering them up, Caleb dumped the pile unceremoniously on a low shelf. “Do you have a job ready to start? Somebody needs a new roof?” He rubbed his clean-shaven jawline.

  “Jah, I was awarded the contract to reroof a warehouse in Millersburg. I’m calling every man on my crew to tell them to be ready to start Monday. Looks like it will be a four-week job between the demo, replacing most of the rafters and supports, and then installing the new roof on three buildings in the complex.”

  His son narrowed his gaze. “Does this crew of yours include me?”

  “Of course it does. I agreed to hire you and I keep my word. But like any other employee, you will be on probation for the first three months.”

  “Fair enough.” Caleb leaned his head against the office wall. “How will we get to Millersburg? Will everybody drive their own rig?” He fiddled with a pile of paperclips on the desk.

  “No, I want to start work promptly at first light, or eight at the latest. It would take too long if we drove our buggies. One of my Englisch carpenters owns a large van. I pay him an extra stipend to pick us up, plus each man chips in for gasoline.”

  This information had little effect on Caleb. He continued to line up clips into rows of five.

  “Are those terms okay with you, son?” Eli spoke a bit louder than necessary.

  Caleb peered up. “Fine and dandy. Hopefully your driver can wait until my first check for my portion of the gas.” He focused on the barn blueprints. “We have a barn to build too? That will be a lot more fun than a commercial reroofing.”

  “Work isn’t supposed to be fun. But jah, the Yoders need a new barn. The old relic on their property from when the first Yoder moved in fell down. The weight of snow on the roof finally collapsed the support beams.”

  Caleb straightened in the chair. “Were any livestock injured or killed?”

  “Nein, their livestock stalls were on the lowest level. It was the loft that fell. He lost his hay storage, along with some equipment, but his cows and horses came through the ordeal fine. They’re stabled in a neighbor’s barn for now.”

  “Josie Yoder’s family?” asked Caleb.

  “I believe one of his daughters is named Josie.”

  “When will this be scheduled?” He tapped the blueprints with his finger.

  “Time will tell. Let’s concentrate on the Millersburg project first.” Eli experienced an odd spike of irritation with Caleb’s interest in a community barn-building over regular, paid employment. Hopefully, his son hadn’t lost every ounce of ambition and initiative he’d once possessed.

  Caleb stood, slowly stretching out his back muscles. “I’ll be ready first thing Monday morning. I brought home my tools. They were the only things worth moving from my last apartment on Davenport Drive.” He headed toward the office door as though their meeting had concluded.

  “Hold up,” demanded Eli. “I’ve got a few questions before you start work.”

  Caleb glanced back but held his position. “You want me to fill out an application, or maybe supply a list of Cleveland references?” He laughed as though amused.

  Eli pointed at the metal chair. “No, but I am entitled to know what kind of construction you did for those Englischers. It would be useful when I start assigning tasks.” He kept his voice level while inside his irritation continued to build.

  Caleb slouched back to the chair. “My friend Pete helped me get into the carpenters’ union.”

  “The same Pete who worked on that big tourist hotel and restaurant in Wilmot?” Eli interrupted—a trait he abhorred in other people.

  “Yes, Pete Taylor—one and the same. Pete was already in the union. When I moved north, he helped me obtain my union card. I was an apprentice for four years. I would have made journeyman but the housing bubble burst and work dried up.”

  “So you built big fancy homes for Englischers?” Eli pictured those mansions he saw in magazines at the dentist’s office.

  “No, we did commercial work—office buildings, restaurants, and public government housing for the low-income elderly. When the mortgage crisis hit, construction of every type ground to a halt.” Caleb lifted his hand. “Don’t ask me to explain. I’m only repeating what the stewards rammed down my throat for years.”

  “Go on.” Eli fought the impulse to ask, So why didn’t you come home?

  “That’s pretty much the whole story. I had a good-paying job for two years. After that I mainly sat around the union hall. Occasionally I got day work to keep the lights and heat turned on.”

  “Did you familiarize yourself with the Cuyahoga County building codes?”

  “No.” Caleb’s eyes could have bored holes through Eli’s forehead.

  “Did you learn to read blueprints and schematics?”

  “No. Pete told me to sign up for classes, but they were offered at night at the downtown community college campus. A man gets tired after putting in a full day of work.”

  “What about the three slow years, when you sat around the hall?”

  Caleb flushed. “Those
classes ain’t free. They cost money and a man needs a reliable set of wheels to get there.”

  Eli saw no reason to back down. “Sarah said she used public transportation almost to your doorstep when she visited. She only walked two blocks.”

  His son’s face darkened as he gripped the edge of the desk. “Is this an interrogation about my past or an assessment of my skills? I thought my years in Cleveland were to be forgotten. I know how to use every tool to do any carpentry project out there. I can do the job, Daed.” Caleb lifted his chin with defiance.

  Strangely, Eli took no solace from his Deutsch term for father. “I know you can, and eventually I will teach you how to read blueprints. For now it won’t be necessary, but I can’t make you a foreman.” He began stacking his papers. “Let’s go into the house and check how supper is coming. I need a cup of coffee to tide me over.” Briefly, he considered offering his hand, but his son had already reached the door before the idea jelled. Eli swallowed hard. Take it one day at a time. After all, you promised your wife.

  Sarah set her wicker basket on the kitchen counter and headed to the fridge for a soft drink. She didn’t notice her mother half-buried in the pantry.

  “What’s in the hamper?” The voice sounded echo-y and far away until Elizabeth rose to her feet. Her arms were filled with empty Mason jars which she placed in a packing crate.

  “Cleaning cupboards?” Sarah took a large gulp of Pepsi.

  “Jah, good day for it. Let’s see what you brought me.” Her mother flipped the lid on the basket.

  “Mrs. Pratt and I baked all day after the guests left. This morning I took several jars of canned pumpkin, zucchini, and blueberries from the cellar. Lee Ann bought every overripe banana at the IGA along with chopped walnuts on sale. We made a dozen loaves of pumpkin bread, zucchini bread, and banana-walnut and blueberry muffins, far more than Country Pleasures needs. So she insisted I bring some home.”

  Elizabeth leaned over the hamper and inhaled deeply. “Smells wundabaar, but why didn’t you stick them in the inn’s freezer? All of these freeze nicely.”