Chapter 9
“Bid $1,000.
1,000, 1,000.
Bid 1,000.
Now 1,500?”
Elijah picked up the pace and his volume.
It was easy to capture the cadence, standing next to the corral fence in the middle of the Yoders’ farm, hammer in one hand, a nail in the other, a light breeze carrying to him the scent of coral honeysuckle and the stink of horse manure in equal measure.
He had only two horses, a smattering of birds, Declan, and Slowpoke as his audience.
Repairing the fence in the midst of a work frolic seemed as good a time as any to hone his auctioneering skills.
“Bid 1,500, 1,500. Bid 1,500. You up front. 2,000? Who’ll give me 2,000? Bid 2,000? Bid 2,500. 2,500. Who wants in? Now 3,000. 3,000. Bid 3,000 . . .”
Jason’s stay in the hospital had extended to nearly a week with no end in sight.
The infection refused to abate.
When it finally did—God willing—it would be weeks before he could return to the auction circuit.
They needed Elijah to sub for him.
So sub for Jason he would.
Even if the mere thought made Elijah’s skin flush, itch, and burn.
“See, you can do it.
You have a nice, clear voice and an easy rhythm.”
Declan clapped to punctuate what had been a steady stream of encouragement.
“Just keep easing the bid up.
You can get four, five thousand dollars for a solid oak, five-piece handcrafted bedroom set.
Especially if you sweet-talk them as you go.
Switch to Deutsch now and then. For a guy who hasn’t actually called an auction, you’ve got the cadence down.”
Slowpoke raised his head and barked twice from his resting spot in the shade of a white oak.
He obviously agreed.
“Sure, when it’s you, Slowpoke, a couple of horses, and a pair of robins who could care less as an audience.”
Elijah nailed the rough-sawed, untreated one-by-six oak plank replacing the rotted one into its spot with more force than necessary.
“Maybe I could stand behind a curtain to do the calling.
Maybe if I couldn’t see all those people staring at me, I’d do better.”
With an exaggerated grunt, Declan picked up the next one-by-six and handed it to Elijah.
“Maybe, but would that accomplish your goal of facing your fears and overcoming them?”
Leave it to Declan to be right once in a while.
Elijah groaned.
“You’re smarter than you look, Bruder.”
“Danki, Bruder.”
Declan bowed with an elegant flourish.
“I’m also funnier.
Would you like a joke?”
Declan knew humor was powerful medicine.
It sure couldn’t hurt.
Elijah nodded.
“A joke would be gut.”
“What does corn say when it gets a compliment?”
“I don’t know.
What does corn say when it gets a compliment?”
Declan hung his head and kicked at the dirt with his work boot.
“Aw, shucks.”
Elijah groaned again, but then he laughed.
“Smart and funny.”
“Danki.”
Another elaborate bow.
“I’m here for two shows a night.
Tips welcome.”
“It’s nice to see two brieder getting along so well.”
Elijah swiveled at the sound of a familiar voice.
Don’t let it be her.
Sei so gut, don’t let it be her.
It was Bonnie.
Opal accompanied her.
Elijah had seen Bonnie serving sandwiches at lunch, but she hadn’t looked his way.
Intentionally? Or was she just busy? Not that he’d sought her out either.
Was she offended that he hadn’t said hello?
Round and round went the hamster on the wheel in his brain.
Slowpoke hopped up and trotted in a beeline for the women.
Bonnie let go of her rollator with one hand long enough to give the dog a good pet.
“Slowpoke, my old friend.
Danki for helping keep these worker bees in line.”
She scratched in that favorite place behind his left ear.
His tail wagged faster.
“If I’d known you were out here, I would’ve brought you some water to go with the kaffi and eppies for the men.”
“Woo-hoo.
Kaffi, eppies, and gut company.”
Declan pumped his fist and then clapped.
“You two are the best.”
Bonnie and Opal acknowledged his praise with modest bows.
Bonnie didn’t hold a grudge against Slowpoke for tripping her up.
Not against the dog.
What about his owner? Her face was flushed from the brisk northern breeze.
She was so pretty.
Did seeing him remind her of falling flat on her back in her storeroom? Elijah forced his gaze to Slowpoke. “I brought water and a bowl.”
Why couldn’t he sound more relaxed and welcoming like his brothers?
“You’re the gut pet owner, for sure and for certain.”
Opal cocked her head toward Bonnie.
“Bonnie thought you could use some kaffi to warm you up and some of her chocolate chip–pecan eppies, fresh from the oven.
Isn’t that right, Bonnie?”
The scowl Bonnie shot her friend wasn’t all that friendly.
“Mamm actually thought of it, but jah, it seemed like a gut idea.”
“Wunderbarr.”
Declan laid aside another one-by-six plank.
“Elijah was just saying he could use another cup of kaffi, and he had a hankering for chocolate chip–pecan eppies.
Weren’t you, Elijah?”
How could he answer that without either lying or turning his brother into a liar? Elijah glared at Declan.
“Both sound gut.”
How was that for threading the needle? He laid the hammer on the closest fence post.
“My hands are cold.”
“I heard there’s a new batch of kittens in the barn.
I want to check them out.
They’re so cute when they’re little.
I’m thinking about taking one home.”
With that Opal traipsed toward the barn without so much as a by-your-leave to Bonnie.
Storm clouds gathering in her face, Bonnie stared after her friend. “Opal—”
“My fraa loves kittens too.”
Declan slid his straw hat back on his head.
“I reckon my suh would be head over heels for one.
I should check them out too.”
Off he went, leaving Elijah to stare at the ground and contemplate all the ways he’d get even with his brother in the near future.
“Well, that wasn’t obvious at all, was it?”
Not daring to ask what was so obvious, Elijah forced himself to look up.
Slowpoke at her side, Bonnie had moved closer.
She pulled a thermos from her walker’s bag and held it out.
“I reckon it’s up to you and me to drink the kaffi and eat all the eppies.
They get none. Would you mind pouring?”
“Nee, not at all.”
Elijah concentrated on pouring the beverage without spilling it, despite hands that didn’t want to cooperate.
Bonnie said nothing when the coffee sloshed over the side onto his fingers.
Steam billowed from the cup.
The rich aroma steadied him.
He handed a cup to her and poured one for himself.
“Danki.
How’s Jason doing?”
“He’s been better.
His body isn’t fighting the infection the way it should.
They’re trying a stronger antibiotic.”
“He’s a strong man.”
Young and strong.
A husband and father with so much life to live.
God willing.
Why wouldn’t God be willing? What plan did He have to hone character through a painful trial such as this? Painful for Caitlin, for the children, for Mom and Dad.
For Jason’s brothers and sisters. “Jah.”
“He’ll be okay.”
Bonnie plucked a cookie the size of his palm from the bag and handed it to him on a napkin.
A man had to appreciate a big cookie.
“I like to make them big.”
Her soft tone invited him to agree.
“That way I can say I just had one.”
“I like the way you think.”
He took a big bite.
They were still warm, the chocolate chips gooey.
Just the way anyone in his right mind would like them. “Gut.”
“It’s Mamm’s recipe.”
Slowpoke was too well-mannered to beg, but he did inch closer, his nose in the air, sniffing, on alert.
“Sorry, friend, no chocolate for you.”
Instead Elijah laid his snack on the napkin Bonnie had provided so he could dig the hound’s favorite chew bone and a doggy biscuit from his nearby duffel bag.
Then he poured him some water.
“There you go.
You’ll like that much better, I promise.”
“You are a gut friend to him.”
Bonnie watched, her expression appreciative.
She took a sip of her coffee.
“There’s nothing better than hot kaffi and warm eppies on a cold day.”
Nice, safe topic.
Elijah nodded. “Jah.”
“But I must say I’m looking forward to warmer weather when we can have watermelon and lemonade and fresh tomatoes from the garden.”
Again safe.
“Every season has its perks.”
Elijah closed the lid on her walker.
“Would you like to sit?”
She shook her head.
“It feels gut to stand.”
Had he messed up again? “Did I do it again?”
“Do what?”
“Act like you need special treatment instead of treating you like everyone else?”
Bonnie set her cup on the seat.
She smiled.
“I know I came off as prickly last week.
I tend to do that.
You were trying to be nice. I shouldn’t take offense when people are nice. And kind. So many people aren’t these days. And just now, you showed gut manners and kindness.”
“Gut.”
Elijah’s heart slowed.
Maybe talking to Bonnie could be easier than talking to other women.
Not harder.
Maybe.
“Is it possible to treat someone as special and have it be a gut thing?”
Her eyes narrowed.
Her smile faded.
He’d done it again.
She pursed her lips.
Her forehead wrinkled.
Finally, she nodded.
“I see what you mean.
I care about my mom, so I ask her if she wants to sit while I make supper because I know she’s tired. Not because she’s weak, but because she’s special to me.”
Elijah exhaled. “Jah.”
Bonnie picked up her cup and toasted him.
“Gut point.”
“So this .walker . . .”
Elijah pointed to the contraption with its wheels, pouch, and seat.
“Is it still called a walker?”
“Nee, it’s called a rollator.”
Bonnie patted one handle.
“It’s so helpful to be able to cart around things I need.
Plus I take my own seat wherever I go.
If I get tired, I can sit.
If the waiting room is full, I can sit. It’s handy-dandy.”
“I can see that.”
“Danki.”
“For what?”
She ducked her head and stared at the handy-dandy rollator.
“Most abled people like to pretend it’s not there.
Like they don’t see it.
Or they see me and get confused and don’t know what to say because I’m not old.
Danki for asking.”
“I like knowing things.”
“Me too.”
What now? If Declan were here, he would tell a joke.
Contemplating the void in his brain where small talk should be, Elijah took his cup to the fence.
The horses, a beautiful roan and a sorrel, trotted over to meet him.
With his free hand, he took turns patting their muzzles.
“Sorry, I don’t have any treats for you today.”
“I fed them apple slices this morning.
They just like to beg.”
Bonnie had moved to stand next to him.
“They’re not as well-mannered as Slowpoke.”
Elijah glanced at the dog.
He was blissfully occupied with his bone.
“Are you all better?”
“I’m fine.
I had a little cut, that’s all, and it’s already healed.
And it wasn’t your fault.”
She scratched between the roan’s ears and murmured sweet nothings to him.
She had such a calming voice.
“It wasn’t Slowpoke’s either.
It was all my fault.”
The flush on her face deepened.
She shrugged.
“That’s what I get for being prickly toward you.
Punishment for being prideful.”
“You don’t deserve to be punished.”
Not ever.
Elijah couldn’t take his gaze from her long, slim fingers.
She had a delicate touch.
What would it feel like to hold her hand? Was her skin as soft as her touch? Warmth that had nothing to do with the coffee rolled over him.
His wool jacket was suddenly itchy and hot. He cleared his throat. “I’d better get back to work.”
“Jah.
Jah, me too.”
An emotion flitted across her face, hard to identify at first.
Then it made itself clear.
Sadness.
She was sad.
Elijah’s heart wrenched in his chest. The last thing a woman like Bonnie should have to feel was sad. She deserved to be happy. Not everyone did, but Bonnie did.
Elijah searched for words to make that sadness go away.
None came.
Words were not his friends.
“Slowpoke’s break is over too.”
He picked up Slowpoke’s bone.
He stuck it in his duffel bag.
His back to Bonnie, he heaved a breath.
What if he told her he liked hearing her laugh? What would she say then? “Go on, ’Poke, find Declan, tell him to stop slacking off.
Time to work.”
A dog in the barn with a new batch of kittens was bound to get his brother moving.
“My mamm and I appreciate everyone pitching in on the repairs.”
Bonnie pushed her rollator closer.
She took Elijah’s cup.
Their fingers touched for a scant second.
Hers were warm.
The desire to hang on to them flooded him. Her gaze on the cup, she smiled. “We haven’t kept the place up the way Dat would’ve wanted.”
“He’d understand.”
The sadness returned, making her brown eyes darker.
She nodded.
“I suppose.
I guess it felt like making the repairs meant we finally accepted that he’s never picking up a paintbrush or a hammer again.
Never coming through the back door, growling like an old bear coming out of hibernation about what’s for supper, and kissing my mamm when he thinks I’m not looking.”
A hard truth to accept.
Words of comfort eluded Elijah.
“I always liked your dat.”
“He was the best dat a maedel could ask for.”
If only he had a way with words.
If only he could drive away the mourning that lingered in that sentiment.
With a kiss.
The warmth turned into a searing heat.
Elijah swiveled back to the roan, who had stuck his head over the fence, still begging for attention. “He’s a beautiful gaul.”
“He is.”
Bonnie reached for her rollator.
She paused, those long, thin fingers gripping the handles.
“If you’re auctioneering, will you still have time to make the pieces we agreed on?”
Here we go.
“I don’t know how quickly I’ll get to them, it’s true.”
“But you’re still planning to fill the order?”
If it meant spending time with her, he’d find a way.
“I hope so.”
A tiny wrinkle appeared between her eyebrows.
“Have you changed your mind?”
“My family needs my help.”
Her gaze seemed to assess him and find something wanting.
“I thought maybe you didn’t want to be an auctioneer after . what happened.”
She’d heard.
Probably everyone in the tristate area had heard about Elijah’s fiasco.
“I don’t.
I never have, but my family needs me and family comes first.”
“I understand that.”
Her words said one thing, but her tone and her eyes said something else entirely.
Elijah stepped into her path.
“I still want to ... sell at the store.”
I want to work with you.
I want to see you, to see if there’s something more there.
“It won’t take long for the pieces you brought in to sell.
Just so you know.
If you decide you can’t make more, I’ll tear up the contract.”
Tell her why.
I can’t.
I don’t have the words.
Far too many words were needed. “Danki.”
“No need to thank me.
Your toys are lovely.
Their sale will benefit the store.”
She rolled around him and started for the house.
“I’m hoping to sell many of them in the future.”
If only she would turn back.
Maybe her expression would reveal if she simply wanted his toys because they were good for business.
Or did she want to see him too?
A few yards away, she stopped and pivoted.
One hand still on the rollator, she gave a tiny wave.
“See you at the store. I hope.”
“See you at the store.”
Elijah waved back. “I hope.”
Not just at the store, but anyplace, anytime.