Promise Lodge (19 page)

“
Jah,
you never know what sort of guys might come to live at Promise Lodge—or might already live around here,” Roman said as he grabbed his hammer. “If they spot Deborah working at the roadside stand, they'll want to take her home right along with her brownies.”

Noah blinked. Not long ago Roman had been touting the merits of the marriageable
girls
who were moving here, saying he should let Deborah go. His brother's remark struck Noah as way off base—but was it? Noah hadn't thought about Deborah paying attention to anyone else, because even after she'd broken their engagement, he'd still considered her
his
girl. He hadn't wanted to date anyone else, so he'd assumed Deborah wouldn't look around, either.

Noah positioned the ladder and began putting shingles on the produce stand's roof. It was all well and good for Amos and Roman to tell him he should latch on to Deborah sooner rather than later, but such ideas didn't provide him a paying job, did they? It would be easier if he could nail down his future as quickly as he was attaching shingles with his pneumatic staple gun. Maybe he should post notices on the bulletin boards in the Forest Grove stores, and run ads in the local papers. People couldn't hire him if they didn't know about his welding skills....

Above the loud hum of his air compressor, Noah heard a vehicle approaching. Queenie barked when the truck stopped at the roadside, but he remained focused on finishing the produce stand's roof. A door slammed behind him.

“And how're you fellows on this fine day?” a familiar voice called out. “Looks like Mattie and the girls will soon be in the produce business.”

“
Jah,
we need to keep them busy or they have too much time to think up more work for
us,
” Amos joked. “How are you, Truman?”

“Fine and dandy. If my memory serves me right, you've got a guy here who's handy with a welding torch.”

Noah shot the last two staples into a sheet of shingles before he looked down to see Truman grinning at him. “That would be me,” he said. “What's on your mind? Got some repairs at your place?”

“No, it's a landscaping job at a new senior living center south of here.” He removed his straw hat to wipe his forehead on his rolled-up shirtsleeve. “They've hired my crew to design the raised flower beds around the grounds. When the director mentioned they'd like some ornamental metal trellises and gates, I thought of you.”

Noah's breath caught. “I'd have to get a forge up and running—”

“Promise Lodge will soon be needing a forge anyway, to keep our horses shod and our buggies in
gut
repair,” Preacher Amos pointed out.

“—but
jah,
I've done a fair amount of ornamental metalwork.” Noah grinned as his spirits rose. “It's a lot more fun than welding pipe joints and sheet metal, too.”

“Can you start next week?”

“Well,
jah!
” Noah's head began to spin. Here was an opportunity exactly like he'd been hoping for! “We'd need to get dimensions, and order the supplies and—”

“I'm going onsite Monday to make out the order for our bushes and perennials,” Truman said. “If you come along, you can talk to the managers about what they have in mind. We'll shoot them a bid when you've got an idea of what your materials will run—and I'll cover the cost of your equipment and supplies as part of the overall job. How's that sound?”

Noah's jaw dropped. “Well, it doesn't get any better than
that,
” he exclaimed. He came down the ladder and stuck out his hand. “You have no idea how much I appreciate this, Truman.”

Their neighbor gripped Noah's hand firmly and pumped it. “I think I do,” he replied. “I was your age once, just starting out. I'd rather hire an Amish fellow than somebody English any day. I know the job'll get done right.”

“You'll not find anyone more conscientious or capable than Noah,” Preacher Amos agreed. “We've been trying to convince him that the doors of opportunity would soon swing open, and you've just answered our prayers in a big way.”

“Well, now.” Truman met their gazes with earnest hazel eyes. “It's been a while since anybody told me that. I knew you folks would make
gut
neighbors!”

Noah's mind was still reeling with his good fortune, but he had a sudden inspiration. “How'd you like to join us for a picnic supper tonight? Followed by a fishing contest?”

“
Jah,
Deborah tells us it's girls against the boys, and we could use another guy on our team,” Roman said. “You can keep your catch—”

“Or you can come back when we fry up what we've been accumulating,” Amos joined in. “Bring your mother. We'd love to meet her.”

Truman slapped his hat against his thigh. “Now that's an offer I can't refuse—more fun than I've had in a long while. Mamm's none too steady on rugged ground, so she won't come this evening, but I'll be there!”

After Truman's big truck had rumbled down the county road, leaving a dust cloud in its wake, Noah was still agog. “What do you think of that? It was like Truman could read my mind—knew what I was concerned about when he pulled up.”

“You were in the right place at the right time with the right skills,” Amos replied as he began picking up the tools. “
Gut
opportunities don't happen by accident. They're a sure sign that God's got His eye on us and brings us exactly what we need—wouldn't you say?”

Although he'd never been one to talk a lot about matters of faith, Noah couldn't deny that Amos was on to something. “
Jah,
and I'd say He was watching out for us when He told you to come to Promise Lodge with us, too.” He glanced up at the roof of the produce stand. “It'll take me about five minutes to finish the shingling, and then I'll tell the cooks we've got company joining us for supper. I'm guessing Rosetta will see that the food's a little fancier than usual, if you get my meaning.”

Chapter Seventeen

Deborah paused with her hands on the warm chocolate sheet cake she'd just rolled up in a towel. Through the kitchen window she saw Noah hurrying up the lane, his arms loaded with tools and Queenie circling him exuberantly. Something wonderful must have happened! His step had a bounce to it. His face glowed in the summer sunshine as he gazed toward the lodge, bursting with news he couldn't wait to tell.

Her heartbeat sped up.
Denki, Lord, for whatever You've brought to this man. He hasn't looked this happy since before I broke up with him.

“Deborah!” he called out as his footsteps thundered on the porch steps. “Deborah, I got a job!”

From over by the sink, Rosetta cheered while Mattie, Christine, and her two girls grabbed each other's hands. Deborah hurried through the dining room, wiping her sugar-dusted palms on her apron. She heard Noah's tools land in one of the wicker porch chairs, and then he rushed inside, letting the screen door bang behind him. Before she knew what was happening, Noah lifted her up and swung her around in the center of the lobby until her laughter rang happily against the high, beamed ceiling.

“I can't believe it! Truman stopped by just now, and he's got a job lined up for his crew,” Noah crowed, “and he wants
me
to make the trellises and gates! I'm going with him on Monday to speak with the managers!”

Deborah squealed as her arms flew around his neck. “What a fine surprise! See there? I
knew
you'd find work—”

“And Rosetta?” Noah called toward the kitchen. “Wickey's coming to our picnic tonight. Thought you'd want to know.”

Deborah felt the color rising in her cheeks. Noah set her carefully on the floor and kept his hands at her waist. His brown eyes had the shine of hot coffee, and his gaze made her feel as if she'd gulped two or three cups of it—all jittery and breathless.

He licked his lips, looking nervous. “I'm sorry I've been snippy,” he murmured, “but I had no idea—”

“It's okay, Noah. You've had a lot on your mind.”

“—how I was going to make a living or—” His face tightened. “And I'm sorry Isaac's stupid lies made me doubt you, when I know you're not the kind of girl to go along with his um,
ideas,
” Noah continued in a rush. “It's me that needs to be forgiven now—again. Heh,
always
.”

“Oh, Noah. Isaac's made us all crazy,” Deborah murmured. “I was ready to leave Promise Lodge, to keep him from coming back to ruin everything you've all worked so hard for. But that's—”

“That's what Chupp wants,” Noah interrupted earnestly. “If he keeps us agitated about the Bender barn burning—or by threatening what he'll do next—then we'll be the blathering sheep and he'll be the wolf, licking his chops.
Enough,
already.”

“Amen! Now you've got it right, son!” Mattie said from the dining room doorway.

“You go, Noah!” Rosetta joined in, while Christine nodded her enthusiastic approval.

Laura and Phoebe broke into applause and then rushed over to hug both of them. “It's so
gut
to see you two getting along again,” Phoebe said. “Congratulations on your job, Noah.”

“And the minute I figured out you were gone,” Laura said as she shook a finger at Deborah, “I would've been running the roads until I found you. And I would've brought you back here to be with us! So there!”

A warm sense of belonging filled Deborah's soul. Her nerves settled. Her body relaxed. Standing among her closest friends, with the young man she'd loved for so long, she realized how much she had to be grateful for. “We need to show our appreciation to Truman with some wonderful-
gut
picnic food,” she said to the women in the doorway. “He's done us some big favors since we've met him.”

“I thought you'd see it that way,” Noah agreed. “I'll go check the fishing rods. Some of them are the worse for wear after being stashed in that old shed, but we'll have enough to go around.”

“Scrub the grill, too, please,” Mattie said. “We've made hamburger patties, and we took a package of Rosetta's sausages from the freezer.”

“I'm going to boil some eggs for potato salad and a deviled egg plate,” Christine said as she headed back to the kitchen.

“Do we need a pie as well as the ice cream cake Deborah's making?” Phoebe asked. “We've got jars of rhubarb filling in the cellar—and apple, too.”

Noah chuckled. “The answer to a pie question is always
yes,
” he replied. “Remember how Truman tucked away two pieces when his crew was here?”

“What's missing? Baked beans, maybe?” Mattie thought aloud. “And we've got leaf lettuce and green onions in the garden that would make a nice bowl of wilted lettuce.”

“With lots of bacon,” Laura suggested as she joined the others who were returning to the kitchen. “This is going to be a feast! And then we girls are going to outfish the guys!”

Deborah remained in the center of the lobby with Noah, savoring a few more moments of his nearness. “We're cooking up quite a celebration—as well we should,” she added. “I'm so glad Truman offered you that job, Noah. It's been hard on you, not having steady welding work.”

Noah cleared his throat. “Truth be told, I have to submit a bid to the managers at the senior living center before they'll officially hire me,” he said softly. “But I can
do
this. If I have sample sketches of trellises and gates ready come Monday, I think it'll be a go.”

“I
know
it will, Noah.” Deborah smiled at him, daring to place her hands on either side of his tanned, clean-shaven face the way she used to.

“Coming from you, those words mean a lot.” He smiled and eased away from her. “I'd better take care of those fishing rods and the grill before you distract me. But don't think for a minute that I'll ignore you this evening.
Denki
for that kick in the pants you gave me, girl.”

Noah didn't kiss her, but Deborah knew he wanted to. He gazed at her mouth, his lips parting, before he turned on his heel to head back outside.

She rejoined her friends in the kitchen, invigorated by their excitement over the evening's plans. Phoebe was mixing dough for piecrusts while Christine had set eggs in a pan of water on the stove. Laura was scrubbing potatoes. At another counter, Rosetta and Mattie had dumped two big cans of pork and beans into a baking dish. They were stirring in seasonings and brown sugar as bacon sizzled in a skillet nearby.

“I'll go pick us some lettuce and onions,” Deborah said, grabbing a plastic washtub near the back door.

“Spinach, too!” Rosetta called out.

Deborah gave her a thumbs-up as she stepped outside. It was a fine thing when everyone worked in harmony and agreed on a common purpose, whether it be overruling Isaac's treachery or celebrating Noah's job—or repaying Truman Wickey's kindness.

Deborah smiled as her bare feet sank into the warm, damp earth of the recently hoed garden. Tonight would mark a fresh start between her and Noah. She just knew it.

* * *

“In the interest of fairness, what with six gals and only four guys,” Preacher Amos said as they were finishing their picnic supper, “I think we men should have six fishing rods to share amongst us, so we'll have just as many lines in the water.”

Noah watched his mother and aunts nod to each other. “
Jah,
that makes sense. Evens up the numbers.”

“I think the guys should stand along one section of the shore while the girls fish from another area,” Truman suggested. “Otherwise, our lines will get tangled.”

“Which means the girls have to bait their own hooks and string their own fish,” Roman pointed out.

Noah nearly choked on the last bite of his rhubarb pie as the females' protests rose.

“I'm not digging worms out of that can of dirt!” Phoebe declared.

“What if I stab myself with the hook?” Mamm asked as she shot a doubtful look at Amos.

“It's impossible to hang on to flipping, flopping,
slimy
fish!” Aunt Christine chimed in.

“Whose idea
was
this fishing contest, anyway?” Laura's voice rose above the others. “I think you guys set it up this way on purpose!”

Silence settled over them as they sat on the old quilts they'd spread near the shoreline.

“The contest was my idea,” Deborah replied softly. “Wouldn't it be just as fair if we fished in three or four rounds? For each round, the fellows could get all the hooks baited, and then everyone can stand wherever they want to, and we can set a timer. The folks who catch a fish can wait for the round to end before they put their lines in again.”

“So we'd tally the women's catch and the men's catch, and after the men string up the fish we'd start a new round?” Aunt Rosetta clarified.

“You girls are just afraid to get worm guts on your hands,” Roman teased.

Noah smiled. After giving Deborah's fishing lesson the other night—recalling her reaction to handling the bait and the live fish—he knew the contest would be called off if the fellows didn't make a few concessions. “I think that's a workable plan,” he said. “After all the effort these gals have put into our picnic, would it hurt us to give them a hand with their hooks?”

“I like the sound of that,” Preacher Amos chimed in. “We'd be working together instead of taking sides, and everyone would have more fun. If fishing can't be fun, why bother?”

“
Jah,
that's a better idea,” Truman agreed. “I'm all for keeping the ladies happy. They feed me too well, and I want to be invited back.”

Everyone laughed and finished eating their pie and the ice cream cake roll. While the women gathered the plates and covered the food, the men put worms on all twelve of the hooks and dug little tunnels at intervals along the shoreline to hold their rods. By the time the ladies had taken the perishable food to the fridge and returned to the lake with a kitchen timer, the men had distributed the nets and stringers around the shoreline and everything was ready for the contest to begin.

Noah smiled at the way the spacing worked out. He and Deborah stood near each other, while Amos had gravitated between Mamm and Aunt Christine, and Truman stood an arm's length from Aunt Rosetta. Phoebe and Laura positioned themselves between Wickey and Roman, and Queenie trotted around them all, anticipating the excitement of flopping fish. They made a satisfying group picture, lining a long stretch of Rainbow Lake's shoreline as the sun was inching its way down the western sky.

“We'll set this first round for ten minutes,” Deborah announced. She held up the timer, gripping the handle on its numbered face. “On your mark—get set—
go!
”

With a quick twist, she set the timer. Noah watched her, pleased at how Deborah swung her rod sideways with graceful energy, releasing the thumb button at just the right moment. Her bobber plopped onto the lake well beyond the others.

“Nice cast,” Noah remarked as his line sailed out over the water.

“
Gut
teacher,” Deborah replied without missing a beat.

Noah's heart sped up. He watched with rising excitement as she quickly jerked her line to set the hook.

“I've got one!” she squealed, slowly cranking the handle.

“There's one on my hook, too,” Roman called out from down the shoreline. “A sea monster, by the feel of it.”

“Help!” Laura squawked. “My bobber went down and my line's racing out!”

Roman quickly stuck the butt of his rod into a tunnel and took his cousin's line. Truman laughed and stepped behind Rosetta to steady her rod when she, too, cried out for help. Aunt Christine stuck her rod into a tunnel and scurried over to grab Roman's. “You've got a lot more going on than I do,” she explained when he gave her a quizzical look.

“I've snagged one that's headed to the bottom of the lake!” Preacher Amos called out with a laugh. “It surely must be a whale like the one that swallowed Jonah.”

When the timer trilled behind him and Queenie barked repeatedly, Noah was reeling in a fish, as well. “Bring in all the lines,” he said. “Let's count our catch.”

Preacher Amos's whale turned out to be a large mass of weeds and muck. Six nice fish were soon flipping on the stringers, however—three for the women and three for the men, because Roman allowed Aunt Christine to count the one on his hook, and Laura said Roman could claim the bass he'd netted for her. Truman had landed Aunt Rosetta's trout as well as a bass from one of the spare lines. Noah was pleased at the way Deborah had slipped the net under her own fish and had then assisted with his catch, as well. He was glad he'd taken the time to show her how to handle fishing equipment, because she was much more adept—and having more fun—than the other gals were.

The second round brought the total catch to thirteen. By the time the third round was under way, no one was keeping track of which team was bringing in the fish. When the timer rang, dusk was fading into darkness.

“I'd better see to the livestock chores,” Roman announced. “But I think we fellows won, if you consider how many times we left our lines to help the women.”

“We're all winners,” Truman countered good-naturedly. “I can't recall a single thing I'd change, or anything lacking in this wonderful evening. I'll help you fellows clean these fish and then get along home to my mother.”

“Give her our best,” Aunt Rosetta said as she grabbed one of the stringers of fish. “And don't forget—we're going to fry all our fish sometime soon, and you're both invited.”