course not.” He chuckled. “You don’t like exaggeration, ain’t so?”
She made sure her reaction to “ain’t so,” a common Amish term, wasn’t visible. “I’m a low-key person, Michael. I prefer to keep things simple.”
“And you’re exhausted.”
She resisted the yearning to check her reflection in the slow waters of the brook to see how bad she looked. “I guess that’s obvious.”
“Why wouldn’t you be tired? You were up early this morning to make breakfast for us, and now you’re taking care of your chickens.” His eyes narrowed as his gaze settled on the stack of wood. “Have you been pulling those out on your own?”
“I thought I could use the boards to build a chicken coop.”
“A gut idea.” Without another word, he waded into the water. He stretched out and grabbed a board beyond her reach.
Tears flooded Carolyn’s eyes as she watched him lift out the planks and set them with the others with an ease she couldn’t have copied. She blinked them away. She must be more exhausted than she’d guessed.
Five minutes later, the wood was stacked. She thanked him, but he waved aside her gratitude before bending to wash his hands in the brook as she had.
“What do you call this stream?” he asked as he straightened and wiped his hands on the sides of his black broadfall trousers.
“Washboard Brook.”
“Brook?” He shook his head, then pushed his brown hair back out of his eyes. “I never imagined anything called a brook could do all the damage this one has.”
“I didn’t, either. I don’t think anyone did.”
“You’ve never had a flood here before?”
“I’ve learned that if the snow up on the peaks melts really fast, we get some minor flooding. Puddles in yards and maybe a splash over onto the road where it’s low.” She flung out her hands. “Nothing like this.”
“Have you considered leaving?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Not once?”
Wanting to be truthful—or at least partially because she couldn’t mention Leland’s name—rather than making believe she could endure anything nature could throw against the town, she said, “I’ve got to admit when I watched our home collapse and get sucked down into the water I wanted to run as fast as I could in any direction away from the flood.”
“But you’re still here.”
“It’s home.”
“So you grew up here?”
Carolyn berated herself. She should have seen the direction their conversation could go and changed the topic before it touched on dangerous territory.
Knowing she must not appear to hesitate, she said, “No, but I’ve lived here for a while. For me, Evergreen Corners is home, and I hope it always will be.”
That was a prayer she said every night before sleep, because if she had to leave, it would be in an attempt to escape from Leland Reber once and for all.
The first project meeting for Carolyn’s new house was scheduled for ten the next morning. Initially it had been set for eight, but she was signed up to serve breakfast. Some volunteers and government officials came in RVs, and they brought their own food. However, most arrived eager to work with tools and skills and not much else. Fortunately, fewer locals were depending on the community center’s kitchen to provide their meals because some sections of town now had electricity again.
But the steady whir of generators hadn’t decreased in the center of the village. Long orange extension cords snaked from the four in the school parking lot.
She stepped over the cords with care, holding Rose Anne on her hip. The little girl had woken with a sore throat. Though Carolyn suspected it was because she’d been yelling too much yesterday in games at the day care center, she agreed to the child’s demands to stay with her. Kevin had been glad to have his friends to himself, and Rose Anne seemed to perk up as soon as they headed toward the school.
Carolyn reached to open the door, but a hand stretched past her to grasp the handle. Seeing Michael and his two friends, she greeted them. She hadn’t been sure if they’d be coming to the meeting, too, and she was glad to see the men who’d invited her and the children to share supper with them the previous night.
Rose Anne wiggled to get down as soon as Carolyn carried her into the school. The little girl threw her arms around one of Michael’s legs and begged him for a piggyback ride.
“You don’t have to do that,” Carolyn told him.
He gave her a quick smile. Squatting, he waited for the child to lock her hands around his neck before he stood. He kept one arm against her to keep her steady as he loped a few yards along the hallway and back again.
“Go, horsey!” she called in excitement.
He set her on her feet, though she pleaded for another ride.
“One ride per customer,” he said, tapping her freckled nose.
“Later?” Rose Anne persisted.
“Let’s see what later brings.” Carolyn put her hands on the child’s shoulders and smiled her thanks to Michael. “I warned you offering rides to the kids last night was going to get you in trouble.”
“Gut trouble, though.”
“We’ll see when all the children in town are asking for rides after you’ve put in a full day’s work.” She took Rose Anne by the hand and began walking toward the gym.
The three men followed her, talking in Deitsch. The words fell like precious rain on her ears, but she chatted with Rose Anne as if none of what they were saying made sense to her. She wasn’t surprised the men were eager to get started. No plain man was accustomed to sitting in a classroom when work waited to be done. When she’d been growing up, every man she’d known had toiled from before sunrise to after dark. It didn’t matter if the man was a farmer or had a job in one of the nearby factories or owned his own shop. Being idle wasn’t part of the Amish lifestyle.
A woman Carolyn didn’t know stood in front of the gym’s closed double doors. Everything about her pose shouted she would tolerate no nonsense. When Carolyn said her name, the woman checked it on the clipboard she carried.
“Please wait out here,” the woman said. “We’re running about a half hour behind schedule.”
“All right.” Carolyn walked to the plastic chairs. Dropping into one, she lifted Rose Anne onto her lap. She should have borrowed a book from the day care center to keep the little girl entertained.
Michael
