Chapter 15
Perry drummed his fingers against the dining room table. Once Ferman was properly tended to and put to bed, Daisy went back
to the Hershbergers, barely saying goodbye. Over the next few minutes, he alternately paced, sat on the sofa, sat down at
the table, and then paced one more time. He considered going into his butterfly room. Usually, he could relax there. But thinking
about that stirred up thoughts of Daisy, so he didn’t. Finally, he couldn’t stand being in the house anymore and went outside.
Today couldn’t have gone better, and not just from their pact perspective. He loved his big family and he liked everyone in
the Birch Creek community. He just wished he didn’t find large groups of people draining. For once, though, the church crowd
hadn’t bothered him, possibly because he’d stayed close to his younger brothers and didn’t force himself to mix and mingle...
and probably because most of his concentration was centered on maintaining the facade with Daisy. From what he could tell,
he had succeeded.
“I should have trusted you all along,” Mamm had said before he left Mose’s. She was the picture of happiness. “Daisy is a lovely maedel .”
Misson accomplished. And he should be happy about that. Their pact was fulfilled, and everything was back to normal, or it would be when Ferman healed up and went home. Perry wished he’d paid more attention to him. If he had, maybe he would have picked up on the old man’s fatigue and pain earlier in the day. Then again, it had been hard to pay attention to anyone except Daisy.
He headed for the back of his yard to pace out his butterfly garden that was overgrown with weeds and grass. The warm afternoon
sun was welcome but did little to settle his confused mood. Due to Daisy’s hasty departure, he assumed she’d changed her mind
about wanting an answer to the question she’d asked him last night. Fine. He still didn’t know how to answer it, so there
was some relief there.
There was no relief from the strange feelings that kept popping up without warning. He knew the soft, yearning looks she gave
him were fake. She was just keeping up her end of their pact. But he couldn’t stop his very real reaction to them. He’d genuinely
believed Ruby had killed any possible romantic desires, so why was he having them now, and for a woman who was in love with
another man?
A painted lady fluttered around him. When she landed on his shoulder he couldn’t believe it. Lady. He was sure it was her, and that was confirmed when she stayed put as he continued to walk. He hadn’t seen her in a day or
two and tried not to think the worst had happened, choosing the optimistic assumption that she had moved on to better food
sources.
“Hello, Lady,” he said softly. “Welcome back.”
She flittered off in the direction of the Hershbergers’ and he followed her trajectory and saw Daisy sitting under the tree
again. Her legs were stretched out in front of her, and she’d changed from her church dress and white apron to a light blue
dress.
Lady had disappeared, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t hovering nearby. He could go over to the tree and have a look around to see if she was still in the Hershbergers’ yard. Yeah, he could totally do that.
While he walked over, he expected Daisy to see him coming. When she kept staring straight ahead, her cross-stitch project
halfway off her lap, he assumed she was sleeping. It took everything he had not to look at her bare feet. Or bare ankles.
His footsteps crunched several dry leaves, bringing her out of her daze.
Her eyes widened and she jumped to her feet, the cross-stitch hoop hitting the ground. “Is something wrong with Ferman?”
“ Nee . He’s sound asleep.” Perry shoved his hands into the pockets of his black church trousers. He hadn’t even thought to change
his clothes. He did leave his black hat on the table.
“ Gut .” Her relieved gaze locked onto his.
Those eyes. Beautiful didn’t begin to describe them. He also didn’t understand how the more he was around her, the lovelier she became.
They weren’t friends, he wasn’t interested in her, and she was in love with someone else. He repeated the words in his head.
They made zero impact.
“Did you need something, Perry?”
Her innocuous question brought him back to the real world. “Have you seen Lady?”
“She’s back?” He listened as she explained how a painted lady had landed on her hand while she was doing his laundry the other
day. “Do you think that was her too?”
“Possibly.”
“How can you tell?” She picked her cross-stitch hoop off the ground and brushed a few blades of stray grass off it.
“Years of studying butterfly wings. Lady has one less spot on her left wing than the right. That’s what makes her identifiable.”
“Really? I never would have noticed.” Daisy looked around. “Do you think she’ll come back again?”
“I don’t know.” He had to be honest. “I couldn’t tell how old she was when I found her. Butterflies don’t have a very long
life cycle.”
“Oh.” She frowned, a touch of sadness in her tone. “So you think she might...”
“I don’t think about it at all.”
Daisy nodded. “Then I won’t either.”
They stood for a moment, and the awkwardness that had been between them off and on today returned. He thought about going
back home without saying anything else. But that wouldn’t be right. After what she had done for him today, he needed to address
last night’s topic. Suddenly, after hours of trying to figure it out, he knew what to say. Thank you, Lord. “About your question—”
“That’s okay. Forget I brought it up.” She started to walk away.
Perry lightly grasped her arm. “I have an answer for you.”
***
Daisy wanted to shrivel up and tuck away somewhere. She started to ask him what question he was referring to, but that would
make her look foolish. She would also be lying, and there had been enough of that today. She’d even lied to herself that the
sultry looks he’d given her after church were real. A couple of times when their gazes met, she thought she’d have to grab
an unused paper plate and fan herself.
Then there was the incredible way he simply looked. Pants slung low on his waist, his crisp white shirt was a little wrinkled, and one black suspender was slightly askew on
his left shoulder. His broad shoulder. Double sigh.
“Daisy?”
Her wits returned. There was no disputing how fine Perry filled out a shirt, church or otherwise. There was also no question that the glances he’d given her were part of their pact. Nothing else. And that was good because she was in love with Maynard.
Maynard. Oh, last night’s question. Right. “You don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to.” She dug her two big toes into
the grass.
“Do you still want me to?” He pulled his hands out of his pockets.
Say no. Say no. “ Ya .” The word burst forth like it had been kept under pressure. So much for letting them both off the hook. For some reason
she couldn’t get out of her own way. And she was very, very curious. Oh well, she might as well ignore her self-consciousness and press on. This was the only chance she’d have to get
some inside information about the male psyche without going to her daed or onkel . Ew. She sat back down on the grass and looked up at him. “So... what do men want?”
“You said you and Maynard are friends.” He parked himself across from her. “How long have you known him?”
“Eighteen months.” She used to know the number of days too, but she couldn’t recall that right now.
“What do you usually do together?”
When she told him about their occasional suppers, her visits to his shop, and the few young adult activities they did with
their service group, she inwardly frowned. She and Maynard didn’t exactly have an exciting friendship either.
Thankfully, Perry didn’t point that out. “Men can get into a rut. Or so I’ve been told.”
She leaned forward, fascinated. This was valuable information. “By who?”
He glanced away, as if he were mulling something over. Then he said, “They also like a challenge.”
She didn’t acknowledge that he bypassed her question. Surely, he had his reasons. “What kind of challenge?”
“Depends on the guy.” He leaned on his side. “Have you ever thought about playing hard to get?”
His answer surprised her. She’d assumed the direct approach would be necessary, thus her decision to have “the talk” with
him when she went back to Dover. “ Nee ,” she said. “I wouldn’t know how.”
“You could start by not writing to him. Or calling him.”
“Oh, I couldn’t do that. What if he forgets about me?”
“He won’t, Daisy from Dover. You’re pretty unforgettable.” He cleared his throat, his gaze darting away. “If you have to write
to him, then tell him about your life here and how much fun you’re having.” He glanced at her again. “You are having some fun, aren’t you?”
She nodded and smiled. “I’ve enjoyed spending time with my familye , even though we’ve all been busy. Meeting Ferman has been a treat.”
He laughed. “I wouldn’t exactly call it that,” he said. “But definitely tell Maynard he is.”
“You’ve been so kind to give up your bed, Perry.”
Shrugging, he said, “Anyone would do the same.”
Would Maynard? Of course he would. Only the most selfish person wouldn’t give up their own comfort for a high-spirited elderly man with
a bad hip. Still, it didn’t diminish what Perry had done for Ferman.
“What else should I tell him?” she asked, getting back on topic.
“You could talk about Lady and the Railway Diner, along with anything else you can think of. If he hears how you’re enjoying
life without him, he might—”
“Get jealous.” She was starting to understand where he was going with his advice.
“Maybe—”
“Why didn’t I think of this before?” She snapped her fingers. “If he misses me and thinks I’m having fun without him, he’ll
realize his true feelings. Perry, you’re a genius!”
***
Perry was no genius, but he was out of his depth, and he wondered if him giving her romantic counsel was like the blind leading
the blind. He had only seriously dated one woman, so he wasn’t exactly an expert. He was also perplexed by her bond, or lack
of it, with Maynard.
From her description of their relationship, it didn’t sound like they spent much time together or had anything in common.
Still, she was insistent that there were feelings on both sides, and he had to take her word for it. He didn’t have the credentials
to judge anyone else’s relationship when his one and only had combusted. Yet Daisy shouldn’t have to manipulate Maynard to
miss her or be interested in her. He already should be.
Perry was right about two things, though. One—men certainly did get into ruts. Ruby had accused him of that several times
when he spent more time with his butterflies than with her. He was also correct about men wanting a challenge. But somehow
that morphed into Daisy thinking he was encouraging her to make Maynard jealous. Which he wasn’t. Was he?
She clasped her hands together and smiled. “I should tell him about us too. That would make him really envious, ya ?”
“Uh—”
“I’m going to do that right now.” She leapt to her feet. Clutching her embroidery hoop, she started for the Hershberger house.
Scrambling to his feet, he quickly intercepted her, prepared to tell her his advice was stupid and she shouldn’t follow it.
“Daisy, I...”
He lost his words as she looked up at him, all wide-eyed innocence and naivete. Maybe Maynard deserved some discomfort for
neglecting her. Just the thought of him hurting her in any way made anger flare inside him. “I’ll help you write the letter.”
“You will? Oh, Perry, danki ! Can we do that now?”
“Sure,” he replied, a bit dumbfounded at himself. What am I doing? “I’ve got paper and pen at my house.”
She grabbed his hand and led him home, basically dragging him along. He didn’t resist.
He also wondered if he was making the biggest mistake of his life.