Chapter 4
A full week had passed since Martin came over. During that time, Patti had met with four of her clients, completed another client’s quarterly taxes, cleaned and organized some shelves in the basement, and read a book. She had been busy doing a lot of things—except going to the grocery store.
Now, as she stared at the contents of her cabinets, Patti frowned. She had lots of food but nothing to eat.
Well, nothing that she wanted. She really wished she’d picked up more at the market when she’d gone on Saturday. Or, perhaps gone when the weather was drizzling on Monday. Now that the wind had picked up—making it far too dangerous to go anywhere on her bike or in the buggy—she was stuck at home.
She was going to have to make meals out of what was on hand, which was noodles, rice, canned veggies, and some thawed-out chicken and hamburger, for the next couple of days.
There was nothing wrong with that—except for the fact that lasagna sounded really good. So did chocolate cake.
“What is wrong with you, Patti?” she muttered to herself. “Mamm would be ashamed of how spoiled you have become. You should be giving thanks for what you have—not wishing for things that aren’t necessary.”
When someone started knocking at the door, she exhaled in relief. No matter who had stopped by, it would be a welcome break from staring at her kitchen cupboards. She was glad for the break.
But she sure didn’t expect to see him. “Martin!”
He was standing out in the cold and wind, looking as if the elements didn’t affect him in the slightest. Instead, he was staring at her intently. “Hiya, Patti.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Seeing you, obviously.”
“I know, but you came last week.”
“I know.”
When his lips turned up at the corners, she realized she’d been standing there like a lovestruck fool. Pulling open the door with a bit too much force, she gestured toward the entryway. “It’s mighty cold out. I’m sure you’re freezing. Come in, come in.”
“I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything?”
“You weren’t.” She could barely form any other words, especially since all she wanted to do was stare at him.
He was in a thick tan canvas coat lined with flannel, boots, an undershirt, and a V-neck black sweater over that.
His hair was messy, like he’d just run his fingers through it. He was freshly shaved, too.
As always, he looked good. Maybe too good for her heart.
Irreverently, she wondered why he couldn’t be a little more homely.
Maybe have a bad nose or squinty eyes or narrow shoulders.
Or a paunch in his midsection. Instead, he looked exactly the way he appeared in her daydreams. He seemed to play a starring role in them far too often.
Everything she imagined him looking like when they talked on the phone. “I’m so surprised you’re still in town. I thought you were going back last night.”
Closing the door behind him, he said, “It was kind of a spur-of-the-moment thing. One minute I was telling myself that it was time to pack and head back, and then next I asked Dawdi if I could stay here for a couple of more days.”
“I’m so glad.” Patti beamed at him another few seconds— before she came to her senses. “Goodness.” She held out her hands. “Here. Let me take your coat. And may I get you a cup of coffee?”
“I can take my own coat off, but yes to the coffee,” he said with a grin. “Thanks.”
“Hang it up on the hook then and come join me in the kitchen. I’ll make a fresh pot right now.”
She turned away, needing the brief break to settle herself. Martin didn’t need her staring at him like he was a dish of frozen custard in the middle of July.
Or worse.
Plus, she needed to gather her thoughts.
This was the second time he’d come over to see her in a week.
What if he asked how she felt about him?
What if he wanted to talk about their future once again?
What would she tell him now? Her circumstances hadn’t changed, but she was beginning to believe that her heart had a mind of its own.
“I went ahead and took my boots off, too. Your floor looks spotless.”
Glancing down at his thick wool socks that had blond dogs stitched all over them, she grinned. “I never pictured you with dog socks.”
He grinned. “This is what all the guys at my office wear. Fun socks. I guess they do look pretty silly in an Amish home.”
The things he thought about! “They suit you.” She turned to fuss with the percolator some more. “I’m sorry, I don’t have much to offer you in the way of treats. When you knocked, I was just lamenting the fact that I should’ve bought more at the market on Saturday.”
“Do you need to go to the grocery? I can take you.”
“You can? I mean, you came over in your truck?”
“I walked, but it’s at my grandparents’ place.”
“I’ll be fine. It’s probably best if I eat the food I have.” Lasagna and chocolate cake weren’t very good for her, anyway.
“Whatever you want.”
“Danke.” Pulling out two stoneware mugs, she said, “The kaffi is ready. Milk or sugar?” He usually took it black, but she wanted him to be happy.
“Black is fine.”
“Would you like to sit in the kitchen? I haven’t had time to get the fireplace going yet.”
A line formed in between his brows. “You have gas heat, yes?”
“Jah, but it’s expensive. Plus, the fireplace is nice. I like to watch the flames dance around.”
“I do, too. Let’s sit down and catch up, and then I’ll help you with the fireplace. And then I’m taking you out to dinner and to the grocery store.”
Even though her insides were jumping up and down, she tried to sound a little less excited. “Martin, that’s very bossy.”
“It is, but I’m beginning to think you need someone to boss you around a bit.”
“Certainly not.”
To her shock, instead of arguing some more, he started laughing as he took both mugs and led the way to the living room. “Sit down with me and stop fussing.”
Since she didn’t have a choice, she followed Martin into her own living room and sat down on the sofa by his side.
He took a sip of his coffee and grinned. “You make the best coffee. I’m not sure how that is, but you do.”
“It’s the percolator.”
“Maybe it is. Or . . . maybe it’s you,” he added in a quiet tone.
Martin was also staring at her so sweetly. “I hardly know what to think about you right now.” That was the truth, too. He was acting both flirty and familiar. How could that be when it had been weeks and weeks since they’d seen each other in person?
His expression turned more serious. “Patti, I know we’re in a hard place and I don’t know what the Lord intends for us to do in the future. But that said, I don’t want to pretend that we haven’t gotten close. Do you?”
“Nee.” When he looked at her steadily, she realized that she was going to explain herself. She was going to need to be honest and even a little bit vulnerable. “One of my favorite parts of the day is when we talk on the phone at night.”
“Me, too. I’ve blown off dinner with friends in order to make sure I was around for those phone calls.”
“You didn’t have to—”
“What I’m trying to say is that I enjoy hearing about your day. And how you listen to me and give me advice. I really enjoy that.” He lowered his voice. “I’ve come to believe that I need your perspective in my life. It helps center me.”
She sipped her coffee. “Tell me a story, then,” she teased. “What’s been going on in the marketing department between Jenny and Marissa and Ted from accounting?”
He laughed. “Are you sure you want to hear about their shenanigans? The latest event might shock you.”
“I’m very sure.” Hoping to make him laugh, she winked. “The shocking stories are the best ones.”
“They’re certainly the most memorable.” Putting his mug down, he crossed one ankle over the opposite knee and started talking.
His story had something to do with secret lunches and emails falling into the wrong hands.
If someone asked Patti to repeat the story, complete with all the specifics, she wouldn’t have been able to do that.
It was too tempting to study his features while he spoke.
His eyes lit up when he told a joke, and a faint wash of color appeared on his cheeks whenever he relayed something rather racy.
She loved every single one.
Just like the way he held up his hands to illustrate his words. Or the way he kicked out his feet whenever she giggled. She wished she could take every little thing he did and hold it tight. Pocket it for safekeeping.
But as much as she wanted for her daydreams to become her reality, for the two of them to have a future together, she knew it wasn’t possible. Martin Schrock was not meant to be Amish.
And she? Well, she’d already become Amish. She’d spoken vows during her baptism. Vows that she never intended to break.
That meant these conversations weren’t going to continue for very long. Eventually he would find a woman to marry. Then all she would have left of him would be memories.
Which made a lump form in her throat.
Stay in the moment, a little voice whispered in her ear. You won’t get it back.
That was good advice . . . especially since there was a very good chance that she might not get too many more of these moments in the future.
Which, she admitted to herself, would just about break her heart.