Plain Admirer (13 page)

At the publishing office, Joann and Roman loaded the boxes of books while his mother and Esta continued their chat. They were getting ready to leave when Mabel came out with another box of books. “These are some I wanted to donate to the school. They’re mostly storybooks and a few songbooks, things I know the kids will enjoy.”

Joann put them beside her on the seat. “
Danki,
Mabel. I know Leah will be most grateful.”

When they arrived at the school, the work was well under way. A scaffold had been built across the burned opening at the side of the building. Men in straw hats, white shirts and dark pants with suspenders swarmed around the building like ants. Eli Imhoff and Bishop Zook supervised the work and made sure that everyone knew their job.

The sounds of hammers and saws filled the air along with the chatter and laughter of the children who were playing on the school-ground equipment. Long tables had been set up beneath the shade of a nearby tree and women in dark dresses and white
kapps
laid out the food, and made sure everyone had plenty of lemonade or coffee.

Roman’s mother and Esta carried their baskets of food toward the tables. Leah came out of the school with Sarah and Sally at her side. “Oh good, you have the books. Bring them inside.”

Joann carried the boxes while Roman went to join the men. She and the other women were soon busy shelving books and sorting through the donations that continued to come in.

Later, when they went out to get refreshments, she saw Roman had been put in charge of painting the building. He had seven young boys of various ages wielding paintbrushes beside him. As Joann watched, Esta approached him with a glass of lemonade and a sly smile.

“I can’t believe she has set her sights on him again,” Sally said as she folded her arms and shook her head.

Joann tried to pretend she didn’t care. “His mother likes her. I think she feels it would be a good match.”

Sarah stood beside them nibbling on an oatmeal raisin cookie. “I had hoped that you two might hit it off, Joann.”

Joann sighed. Sarah always had matchmaking on her mind. “Roman is not my type. He’s not sensitive. He doesn’t appreciate my quirky sense of humor.” She closed her mouth. She had almost revealed her secret.

Sally turned to stare at Joann. “Is there someone who does appreciate your quirky sense of humor?”

Joann couldn’t help the blush that heated her cheeks. Sally and Sarah exchanged excited glances and leaned close to Joann. Sarah said, “Out with it. Who is he? Where did you meet him?”

Now she was in a pickle. They both knew something was up. She was going to have to tell the truth, or some version of the truth.

“I haven’t actually met him, but I know a lot about him.”

“What does that mean?” Sally asked.

“We’ve been exchanging letters.”

Sarah clapped her hands together. “A pen pal courtship, how wonderful. Who is he? Where does he live?”

Joann shook her head. “I’d rather not say.”

Sally’s eyes narrowed. “Why not? What is this paragon’s name?”

“I’d rather not say,” Joann answered in a weak voice.

Sarah nodded. “We won’t tease you anymore.”

Sally fisted her hands on her hips. “You’re making it up.”

Joann’s chin came up. “I am not.”

“Well, there is something fishy about this. How come we haven’t heard about him before?”

Joann made sure that no one else was close enough to overhear. “We’ve been leaving letters for each other in a hollow tree at the lake.”

Sarah put her arm around Joann’s shoulder. “How romantic.”

Sally shook her head. “I’m not buying it.”

“It’s true,” Joann insisted. “I lost my new fishing rod in the lake. I was heartbroken. He went fishing and recovered it. Instead of keeping it, he left it with a note beside it. When I went back to the lake, I found my rod and his note. I wrote him a thank-you letter in the same place. It sort of took off from there.”

Sarah’s gaze grew troubled. “But you know who he is, right?”

“Not exactly.” Joann had never considered how lame it would sound when she tried to explain.

Sally scowled at her. “Are you telling us that you’re exchanging letters with a complete stranger who happens to fish at the same lake that you do?”

“That about sums it up. I think I’ll have another cookie.” She started for the table.

Sally grabbed her arm. “Are you crazy? He could be some kind of nut.”

Joann didn’t want to hear it. “He’s not a nut. He’s sensitive and troubled and he shares what he’s going through with me. What is so wrong with that?”

Sarah clapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh my goodness. He’s
Englisch
.”

Joann stared at the ground. “I don’t think so. His letters sound...Amish.”

“Old Amish? Young Amish? Single Amish? Married Amish? Ex-Amish?” Sally waited for an answer. Joann didn’t have one.

“I don’t know.”

Sarah and Sally each grabbed Joann’s arm and pulled her to a more secluded spot. Sarah said, “You don’t know his name, but he knows yours. Right?”

“I sign my letters the Happy Angler. He signed his letters the Friendly Fisherman.”

“Are you telling us he doesn’t even know he’s writing to a woman?” Sarah’s mouth dropped open.

Joann closed her eyes. “I told him I was an Amish woman. It’s only letters. I was afraid he would stop writing if he knew. It started out innocent enough. Why are you making it sound so sordid?”

Sally shook her head. “You have to stop. He could be anybody.”

Joann walked a few steps away from them. “You don’t understand. We have a connection. I don’t want to stop writing him.”

“Then you have find out who he is.”

“I’m not doing anything wrong. I’m exchanging letters with someone who likes to fish as much as I do. We share a joke, talk about our problems, offer suggestions and support. There is nothing wrong with what I’m doing.”

Sarah and Sally exchanged pitying glances. Before they could say anything else, Leah joined them. “It’s almost done. You can’t even tell where the fire was. I’m so thankful for all the people who have come out today. Come, Bishop Zook is going to offer a blessing.”

Sarah and Sally followed her, but Joann stayed where she was. In her heart, she knew they were right. She had to end the secrecy. If their friendship was a good thing, it would bear up in the light of day.

If it didn’t, she didn’t know what she would do.

Chapter Thirteen

R
oman managed to stay busy and out of Esta’s reach for most of the day. He was thankful when she and his mother left to visit Otis in the hospital with some of his English friends. Before she got in the car, his mother gave his arm a squeeze. With a happy smile, she said, “It’s wonderful to see you and Esta together again.”

“We’re not together.”

His mother leaned closer. “She told me that things have been rough between the two of you, but she’s willing to work it out.”

Esta was already in the backseat of the car. She had the grace to blush. She scooted over to make room for his mother when she got in. He closed the car door and watched as they drove away. It didn’t matter if she charmed his mother or not. He didn’t see a future with her.

On the ride home, he glanced frequently at Joann. She seemed deep in thought. A small frown put a crease between her eyebrows. He wanted to smooth it away. “Is something troubling?” he asked.

She glanced at him and shook her head. “I have a hard decision to make and I’m not sure what to do.”

“That sounds serious. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“I appreciate the offer, but this is something I have to work out for myself.”

“If this is about your job, you can stay on until Otis comes back.”

“I will be happy to help out again if you get in a bind, but there isn’t enough work to keep all of us busy now that the schoolbooks have been finished. On Monday I’ll be at the bookstore again.”

“You don’t mind?”

She sighed. “I believe everything happens for a reason.”

“If only we could see what that reason was.” He pulled Meg to a stop at the end of Hebron’s lane.

“Then we wouldn’t need faith, would we?” she asked gently.

“I reckon not. You don’t need to come in Monday unless you really want to. I gave Leonard and Gerald the day off. They’ve both put in a lot of long hours, and so have you.”

She nodded and got down. She paused and turned to face him. “I’m glad that Esta has come to her senses. You two make a nice couple.”

“You and my mother,” he said in disgust. “I’d like to choose my own wife, if you don’t mind.”

“I know it isn’t any of my business, but I hope you don’t hold the things I said in anger against Esta. I was wrong to repeat gossip. I would hate to think that I ruined something between you.”

“You didn’t ruin anything. You just have a way of making me look at things differently. Good night.”

“Good night.”

He turned the horse around and drove toward home. As he drew even with the road that led to the lake, he stopped and turned in. He wanted to see if he had a letter. More than that, he wanted to tell his friend about the decisions he’d made.

It took him a while to find the right place. He was used to coming down from the north end of the lake. Once he spotted the faint path leading around the east shore, he left his buggy and walked through the trees.

Roman hoped he might run into his friend on a Saturday evening, but the small glade was empty. There was a note in the jar.

Dear Friendly Fisherman,

I hope your coworker is becoming less of a headache. I think I may have misjudged mine. We are finding our way with each other. I couldn’t have done it without you. My mother always used to say a friend is like a rainbow, always there for you after a storm. Thanks, my friend.

A Happy Angler

P.S. I followed your sound advice and searched for my coworker’s strengths. I’m happy to say I have discovered that there is much more to him than I first thought. He is committed to taking care of his family, he has a wonderful sense of humor and he is a fine worker. Thank you. Without your wise words, I might have continued to overlook his good qualities and focused only on his failings. I find that I like him a lot.

Roman sat back with a smile. He took out his notebook and pen and wrote.

My Friend,

We really do have a lot in common. How wise God was to put us in touch with each other. I don’t see my coworker as a headache anymore. In fact, I’m finding I like her a lot, too. Much more than I ever thought I would.

He tapped his lips with the tip of his pen as he decided what else to say.

* * *

“I’ve decided to meet my pen pal.”

Joann could barely believe she’d spoken aloud. She glanced at her cousin Sally to gauge her reaction. Sally and her family had come for a visit. It was the off Sunday, the one without a church service, and families frequently traveled to visit each other on that day. The women were gathering morel mushrooms in the woods beyond the house. Sally’s little sister and Joann’s nieces were playing tag up ahead of them.

“Are you sure you want to do that? What if he is
Englisch?
” Sally’s tone was grave.

Joann walked along with her eyes scanning the ground. “If he is
Englisch,
well, I can have an
Englisch
friend.”

“Just stop writing him.” Sally bent to pick two morels from the base of a tree.

“You haven’t read his letters. We share so many of the same doubts and hopes. It has nothing to do with being Amish or being
Englisch.
We’re two people trying to find a way to accept God’s plan for us.”

“I know you feel a connection to this person, but he may not feel the same connection to you.”

“I don’t believe that.” Joann spotted a small cluster of mushrooms and moved toward them.

Sally followed her. “Has your pen pal ever suggested that you meet?”

Joann had trouble meeting Sally’s eyes. “No.”

Sally stopped and took Joann’s hands between her own. “I am the last person who should be giving anyone advice on matters of the heart, but I’m afraid only heartache will come from this meeting.”

“I’m not some giddy teenager. This isn’t a matter of the heart.”

“Isn’t it? Aren’t you secretly hoping that your pen pal is a handsome, single man?”

Joann pulled away from Sally. “What if I am?”

“Oh, Joann.” Sally shook her head sadly. “He’s far more likely to be old, fat, bald and married with a half dozen children or just as many grandchildren.”

Tears blurred Joann’s vision. “Don’t you see? I have to find out. I know that I’m not pretty. I know that I’m not likely to marry. This person respects what I think and how I feel. If it’s an Amish grandfather who loves fishing as much as I do, that will be wonderful. We’ll be friends and go fishing together as often as possible and I won’t feel so lonely.”

“And if he should be a handsome, unmarried
Englischer?
”

Joann didn’t answer. Both she and Sally knew such a relationship would be forbidden. The only way she could sustain such a relationship would be to leave their Amish community.

Joann turned away from Sally. “I have to know.”

She had pined for Levi, but Sarah was the wife God chose for him. Now, she was growing fond of Roman and it seemed that Esta was the one for him.

Joann picked another mushroom and dropped it in her basket. Who was the man for her? “Tomorrow, I’ll leave him a note asking to meet.”

“If he refuses?”

“I’ll stop writing him.”

If he agreed to meet, what would happen after that?

* * *

Roman didn’t have to go in to work early on Monday, so he made his way to the lake. The Happy Angler frequented their spot in the mornings. He had hopes of running into her today. He wanted to meet his friend in person.

He reached the grove of trees and followed the path toward their fishing hole. He rounded the last bend in the path and stopped in his tracks. A woman was sitting on the fallen log. She had her back to him, but she was dressed plain in a gray dress with a white kapp covering her hair.

He took a step off the path into the cover of the woods. His unknown friend was here? It didn’t seem possible.

He checked the area for signs of other people. He didn’t see anyone else.

The woman turned around with a jar in her hand. It wasn’t a stranger. It was Joann, and she held his letter.

Joann Yoder was the Happy Angler? He couldn’t believe it.

She tucked the jar in the hollow of the log and picked up a fishing pole, the very pole he had pulled from the lake a few weeks ago. He was too stunned to move.

He tried to think of everything he had written. Written about her! Not much of it had been flattering. He couldn’t quite wrap his mind around the fact that she was the one reading his musings. She really would dunk him in the lake if she found out.

Did she know he was the one reading her letters?

No, he didn’t think so. He hadn’t said anything specific about himself. He took a step back. He had to think this over. He’d become increasingly fond of Happy Angler. How could she be Joann? He tried to reconcile the two in his mind. He had learned to respect Joann. She had a sharp mind and a fine measure of humor. He’d even started to care about her as a woman, but he wasn’t sure she returned such feelings. She practically had him married to Esta, but something in the way she looked at him the other evening gave him hope. He’d seen longing in her eyes, but was it a longing for him?

What would she think when she discovered she had been writing to him all this time?

Would she be pleased or mortified? The last thing he wanted was to cause a new break between them. This was going to take some careful thinking. He needed to be certain how she felt about him before he let on that he was the Friendly Fisherman.

He needed to be certain she
was
the Happy Angler. Maybe she’d simply stumbled on this location and accidentally found the letter jar.

He dropped to a crouch and waited for her to leave. She fished for a while, but didn’t catch anything. Soon, she put her rod and tackle box inside the large end of the log and stuffed some grass into the opening.

She hadn’t stumbled on this place by accident. He crouched lower as she walked by. When he was certain she had gone, he went to the log and pulled out the jar. His note was gone and there was a brief one in its place.

Dear Friend,

As much as I have enjoyed our correspondences, I feel it’s time we met in person. I have so much I want to say to you.

Sincerely,

The Happy Angler

The handwriting was the same. Without a doubt, Joann was the one. Someday, he hoped they would look back on these days and laugh about their secret correspondence, but he wasn’t laughing yet. He was in trouble.

He pondered how he could make this could come out right as he walked home. The longer he thought about it, the more panicked he became. His brother was crossing the yard. He stopped. “I thought you had gone to work?”

Roman pulled off his hat and raked his fingers through his hair “Not yet. It’s her. I couldn’t believe my eyes.”

“What are you talking about?” His brother looked at him as if he’d gone crazy. Maybe he had.

Roman began pacing. “Joann Yoder.”

“I still have no idea what you are talking about.”

Roman spun to face him. “I went to the lake today, and she was there. I can’t believe this.”

“I’m still not following you. Why should you care if Joann Yoder was fishing at the Lake?”

“She wasn’t fishing. She was writing a letter.”

“I wrote one last month. It’s not that amazing that she knows how to do it.”

Roman shook his head. “Remember the letter I left for the person whose rod and reel I pulled out of the lake?”

“Sure. He left you a lure as thanks.”

“That wasn’t the only letter I wrote. We’ve been exchanging notes ever since, only I thought I was writing to a woman who liked to fish. I never once thought the letters I received came from Joann Yoder.”

“Wait a minute. You’ve been exchanging love letters with Joann Yoder and you didn’t know it? What a hoot!” Andrew started laughing.

“They weren’t love letters.” He began pacing again.

“It’s still funny. You and the old maid leaving notes for each other in a hollow tree. That’s priceless. Did she know it was you?”

Andrew’s question stopped him. Did she? He found it hard to believe. There hadn’t been anything in her demeanor or her notes that suggested she was aware of his identity. “I don’t think so.”

“I reckon you should tell her the truth. I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes when she finds out. She’s bound to think it was a prank on your part.”

That was exactly what he was afraid of. Roman tried to sort out his feelings. The comforting letters that had sustained him through the past few weeks showed him a completely new side of Joann. He thought he knew her. Now he realized he barely knew her at all. That would have to change, and she would have to get to know him, too.

Andrew chuckled. “I’ve got to get back to work. Tell me how it turns out. The old maid and you, what a hoot.”

After his brother left, Roman went in his house and pulled open the drawer of his desk. He took out the letters Joann had written and began to study them. The sound of a car approaching made him look out the window. The sheriff was getting out of his SUV. Roman went to the door and stepped out on the porch to greet him. “Good day, Nick Bradley. What can we do for you?”

“I stopped by the office. Mable from next door said you had given everyone the day off. I hope everything is okay.”

“Everything is fine.”

“That’s good to hear. I got a copy of your uncle’s magazine in the mail this week. It had a license plate number stapled inside. Would you know anything about that?”

“
Ja,
I put it there for you.”

“I figured it might be from you. Can you tell me if you know a woman named Jenny Morgan?”

“
Nee.
Who is she? Was she involved in that sad business?”

“I mean to find out if she was involved or not. Thanks for your time, Roman.” He touched the brim of his hat, got into his vehicle and drove away.

* * *

“What are you reading?”

Joann looked up to find Roman watching her intently. How long had he been standing there?

She was getting ready to start her half day at the bookstore, but she had come to town early so she could stop at the library first. It was such a beautiful summer day that she had decided to read for a few minutes on the bench outside.