Huckleberry Hearts by Jennifer Beckstrand
And then there was that box of tissue paper hiding behind the recliner for a special project Cassie and Mammi were working on together.
Cassie walked past Mammi, who was working on pot holders for her closet. She often gave visitors a pot holder or two when they came over as a way of being extra hospitable. Since every visitor got a pot holder, Mammi constantly had to replenish the supply in her closet.
“Ach, du lieva. Oh, my goodness,” Mammi said. “Cassie, you look as pretty as an orchard full of cherry blossoms.”
“Yes, you do,” Dr. Reynolds said. He’d let himself in and was leaning against the doorjamb sporting a dazzling smile. The room seemed to brighten like the sun peeking out from behind the clouds.
Cassie almost fanned herself to keep the blush from traveling up her face. The doctor really shouldn’t look at girls that way. It made them feel goofy and stupid and rendered them incapable of forming a complete sentence. “Hello . . . are you . . . the welcome . . . auction.”
He stepped into the room and shut the door behind him without taking his eyes from Cassie. “You are . . .” He stared at her for about five years as if he were stunned speechless, until he seemed to remember himself and snap out of whatever daze he was in. “You are matching,” he finally said.
“Excuse me?”
He sprouted a twitchy grin and took off his coat to reveal a light pink button-down shirt that looked as crisp and flawless as if it had been starched and ironed three minutes ago. The light color accented the tan in his face and made him look like he’d just stepped out of a fashion magazine. His light brown, short-cropped hair was tousled, as if he’d just returned from saving a whole litter of kittens and puppies from a windstorm and hadn’t had time to comb his hair but it hadn’t mattered because his hair was perfect anyway.
He looked casually handsome, like he didn’t care about his appearance even when he couldn’t help being so good-looking. It made him all the more attractive.
Oh my.
She did that incoherent babbling again. “Pink . . . I didn’t expect . . . how did you . . .”
“I guess great minds think alike.” That smile was so mesmerizing. “I know I shouldn’t say this to a patient’s granddaughter, but you look stunning.”
“Stunning? In this dress? I think my mamm hoped for plain.”
“I don’t know what your mamm hoped for, but you look like an angel.”
Cassie didn’t know how to reply to such praise. “I don’t think angels wear pink.”
“They do,” he said, before clearing his throat and looking away as if he’d just realized he’d been staring. “Was I supposed to dress Amish?”
“No,” said Cassie, finally able to string a few words together. “My mamm asks that I dress like this when I mingle with the community. She doesn’t want her daughter to shame her in front of her neighbors.” She tried to keep her expression unemotional, but her eyes must have betrayed a glimmer of sadness she always felt when she thought about her family.
He looked truly sorry for her. “I can’t imagine she’d be ashamed of you.”
“It’s okay. I’m wearing makeup as a protest.”
“Power to the rebels,” he said, pumping his fist in the air.
His expression teased a smile to her lips and heat to her face.
He strode across the room and knelt next to the recliner. “Anna, how are you feeling?”
“Very gute today, Doctor.”
Mammi grabbed one of Cassie’s cookies from the plate to her left. “Have a cookie, Doctor. Cassie made them this morning.”
The doctor took a hearty bite. “Mmm,” he said, with a pleasant smile on his lips. “You made these, Miss Coblenz?”
She nodded, way too hopeful that he’d like them. She tensed, even though she knew they tasted okay. She’d had three of them at lunch.
“Cassie’s a very gute cook,” Mammi said.
“They’re like a little bit of heaven,” he said. He finished it off in four bites. Cassie stared at the floor so the doctor wouldn’t see her gratification. She appreciated a man who could appreciate good food. The two times she’d seen him eat, he had relished every bite. He probably didn’t eat very well at his apartment.
Taking Mammi’s hand, Zach asked, “How is the pain?”
“I hardly feel a thing.”
“Are you staying off your feet?”
Mammi held up her knitting for the doctor to see. “I’ve got plenty to do right here in this chair.”
The doctor took her hand. “Good. Did the home health nurse come this morning to change the dressing?”
“Jah,” Mammi said. “She is a very nice girl. Very thorough. But it wonders me if you couldn’t be the one to change my dressing. I’d feel better if you did it.”
The doctor glanced at Cassie, probably wondering if there was some Amish protocol for this.
“Nae, Mammi,” Cassie said. “The nurse does a fine job. We can’t impose on the doctor that way.”
“The nurses are actually better than us doctors when it comes to stuff like changing bandages,” Dr. Reynolds said.
Mammi dropped her knitting and put her hand over the doctor’s. “We’ll feed you.”
He glanced at Cassie, for her rescue or her approval, she couldn’t tell. “I don’t know. It might be all right. I can talk to the powers that be. What do you think, Miss Coblenz?”
She momentarily lost her train of thought just imagining what a stir he’d make at the auction. Handsome Englischers in crisp pink shirts didn’t show up in Bonduel all that often. Well, never. He’d be the center of attention without even knowing it.
Her heart fluttered. People would think they were a couple, dressed alike as they were.
The doctor peered at her doubtfully, then turned to Mammi. “She doesn’t think it’s a good idea.”
“I’m sorry,” Cassie said. “Did you ask me something?”
“He wants to know if he should come and change my foot,” Mammi said. “Since he’s going to be dropping by often, we don’t need the home health nurse.”
“He’ll be dropping by often?” Cassie said. Had she missed something?
“Yes, dear. To change my foot.”
The doctor sprouted a tentative grin. “If your granddaughter says it’s okay, I’ll check with the hospital.”
“It’s not my decision,” Cassie said, chastising herself at how pleased she felt about the prospect of seeing Dr. Reynolds three times a week.
His expression grew serious as he studied her face. “I think it is your decision.”
Mammi slid another completed pot holder off her needles. “Of course it isn’t her decision. It’s my foot. I want you to come.”
“Only if it won’t make Miss Coblenz uncomfortable.”
Cassie couldn’t decide whether to die of embarrassment or float off the ground at the way he looked at her. His expression was casually cheerful, but his eyes glowed with restrained determination. Was he just being nice or did he truly want to spend his scarce free time with an old Amish couple and a boring art history graduate?
The look in his eyes told her that he wasn’t just being nice.
But why? She’d made it perfectly clear that she didn’t want to date him. Why would he waste his time?
Maybe he wasn’t ready to give up.
That thought both thrilled and terrified her. She’d definitely softened toward Dr. Reynolds since Thursday. Who wouldn’t thaw a little under the warmth of one of his smiles? But if he wanted to use her the way Englisch boys always used Englisch girls, would he be mad at her when she refused to behave like a plaything?
The door opened, sparing Cassie the need to answer. Dawdi tromped into the room bundled in his heavy black coat. His cheeks glowed bright red, and ice crystals had formed on his eyebrows and beard. He leaned against the wall as he slipped off his work boots. “Cold day out yet,” he said. “If temperatures stay low, the sap won’t run until March.”
Dr. Reynolds closed the distance between him
Not that Cassie noticed.
“Felty,” he said, holding out his hand. “What have you been doing out there? You look like a snowman.”
Dawdi removed one of his heavy nylon gloves. It seemed Zach nearly jumped out of his skin when his hand touched Dawdi’s. “Your hands are like ice.”
“I just milked the cow. The milk’s on the porch,” Dawdi said. “It’s a little cold in that barn yet.”
Zach’s mouth fell open. “You milked? By hand?”
Dawdi’s eyes twinkled. “I only got one cow. Doesn’t seem economical to buy a milking machine.”
“Felty, you’re eighty-six years old.”
“Eighty-five.”
“You’re eighty-five years old. Most men your age are sitting in a rocking chair sucking dinner from a straw.”
“I wasn’t never much for rocking chairs. And why would I want to eat from a straw when Annie is the best cook in Wisconsin?”
Zach’s lips curled. “I hope I’m as young as you are when I’m eighty.”
“Eighty-five.” Dawdi swiped his hand down his horseshoe beard, clearing the ice that had formed there. He smiled at Cassie. “Why, you’re as fresh as a field of sweet clover, Cassie girl.”
“Or an orchard of blossoming cherry trees,” Mammi volunteered.
“A pink, breathtaking sunrise,” the doctor added, taking her breath away with the way he stared at her.
She blushed, no doubt looking like a pink parfait with a bright red cherry on top.
Dawdi clapped his hands together. “Are you ready to go to the auction?”
“I’m looking forward to it,” Zach said, as if he really was.
“Okay,” Dawdi said. “I’ll go change my coat and put on my shoes.”
An awkward silence took over the room when Dawdi disappeared down the hall.
Well, awkward for Cassie.
The lack of conversation didn’t seem to bother Zach in the least as he seemed content to stare at her and say nothing. The door saved her again. She said a silent prayer of gratitude that someone always seemed to be buzzing in or out of Mammi and Dawdi’s house.
Cousin Titus burst through the door, as comfortable walking in as any beloved grandchild had a right to be. Titus was two years younger than Cassie, and she had many fond memories of her younger years spent playing with him on Mammi and Dawdi’s farm. Titus had always been as skinny and as tall as a light post, with a cowlick in front that made his white-blond hair fall in all sorts of unruly tufts over his forehead.
And a toothpick. Cassie had rarely seen Titus without a toothpick clamped firmly between his lips.
“Cassie!” he said, pausing long enough the pull the toothpick from his mouth before gathering her into his arms for a bear hug.
Cassie laughed at the pure joy of having a cousin who liked her so much.
Titus nudged her to arm’s length to get a better look. “I’ve missed you something wonderful.”
“I’ve missed you too.”
He took off his coat and hat and hung them on the hooks by the door. “I like the pink. You look like scoop of strawberry ice cream.”
Cassie smiled. Titus always had food on his mind. “Mamm made it for me. She doesn’t want me to embarrass the family.”
Titus’s lips vibrated as he blew air out from between them. “Who’s embarrassed?”
Dr. Reynolds folded his arms across his chest and eyed Cassie and Titus. After a brief hesitation, he extended his hand. “I’m Zach Reynolds,” he said, with a hint of uncertainty in his voice.
“This is the doctor who did surgery on Mammi’s foot,” Cassie said.
The corner of Titus’s mouth twitched slightly as he took the offered hand. “I’m Titus Helmuth, Cassie’s cousin.”
“My grandson,” Mammi called from her recliner.
“Your favorite grandson,” Titus said.
“Definitely one of my favorites.”
Zach blossomed into a full-blown smile as he let out a breath he seemed to have been holding for a very long time. “I thought for a minute you might be Cassie’s Amish boyfriend.”
Titus returned his toothpick to his mouth and thumbed his suspenders. “Not me. I’m scrawny compared to Cassie’s boyfriend. He could pick me up and heft me twenty feet into the air.”
Zach’s smile withered.
Cassie cuffed Titus on the shoulder, certain that it was impossible to get any redder. “I do not have a boyfriend.”
Titus shook his head. “That’s not what Elmer Lee thinks.”
“I thought Elmer Lee and Hannah Mary were dating,” Cassie said.
“He was just biding his time until you came back.”
“That’s not true, Titus. I made it perfectly clear when I left that—”
Titus held up his hands and backed away. “All I know is that he carved your name in the aspen in front of the school. Sounds like true love to me.”
“Me too,” Zach said, with a tease in his voice.
She ignored him. “Elmer Lee carved my name in that tree fourteen years ago, Titus. I was ten.”
Titus looked puzzled for a minute. “Really? That long ago? Are you sure?”
“Yes. And he got in big trouble.”
Titus shrugged. “He’s going to the auction. He wants to see you.”
“No, he doesn’t.” Did Elmer Lee still hold out hope for her? The thought made her want to toss her oatmeal raisin cookies.
Zach studied her face, his expression guarded. “We don’t have to go to the auction, if you don’t want to. We could stay here and play Amish games.”
Titus perked up at that. “Do you know how to play Life on the Farm? It’s my favorite.”
“It’s okay, Dr. Reynolds,” Cassie said. “You came all this way to see the auction. You should see it.”
“All this way? It’s twenty minutes from my apartment.” He looked into her eyes. “I feel bad that I got you into this. First the dress and now the boyfriend. We don’t have to go if you’ll be uncomfortable.”
At his tender look, her whole body felt warm, like drinking a steaming cup of hot chocolate next to the fire. The sensation spread all the way to her toes.
“I feel like I maybe talked you into something you didn’t really want to do,” he said.
She laid a hand on his elbow. Surprise flashed momentarily on his face. “It’s all right, Doctor. I want to go. Troubles don’t get better by avoiding them.”
“An old boyfriend might.”
He looked worried. Worried about her encountering that old boyfriend, or worried that she had an old boyfriend in the first place? Either possibility sent a whole fleet of skater bugs skipping down her spine.
Titus’s gaze darted from Cassie to Zach. “Did you know you’re both wearing pink?”
Zach stifled a smile. “Yes, we did.”
“You look like a couple.”
Zach winced. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing? For Cassie, I mean.”
Titus narrowed his eyes and let his toothpick bob up and down between his lips. “Are you a couple?”
Cassie wanted to roll her eyes and say something clever, but she was too busy breaking some sort of blushing record. Zach caught her eye, and she managed to give him a wry smile, just so he knew everything was okay.
Titus didn’t wait for an answer. “It’s good to dress like a couple if you are a couple because that tells other interested boys and girls to stay away. If you’re not a couple, it still gives everybody something to gossip about. They love the gossip. It’s the only excitement we get around here.”
Dr. Reynolds winked at Cassie. “We’re not a couple, but if you think it will add some excitement to the auction, I’ll be sure to take off my coat so people will see my shirt.”
Titus leaned closer to Zach, as if sharing a great secret. “Do you know Norman and Luke?”
Zach shook his head.
“My brothers,” Cassie said.
Titus
Zach cocked an eyebrow. “Badgers? Sounds dangerous.”
Titus pressed his lips together and nodded eagerly as if anticipating an epic confrontation. “They won’t like her being with an Englisch boy. And they really won’t like her being with an Englisch boy in a pink shirt. I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but it’s not manly. They’ll mock you, but maybe not to your face.” He pulled his toothpick from his mouth and pointed it at Zach. “But they’ll definitely make fun of you in private. Don’t let them hurt your feelings.”
“I won’t,” Zach said. “If anyone questions my manhood, I’ll roll up my sleeves and flex my muscles.”
Cassie’s breath caught in her throat. That was something she’d like to see. She coughed and put that notion right out of her head. She must be losing her marbles.
“And don’t be overconfident. Norman’s made me cry before,” Titus said.
“We were kids, Titus,” Cassie said.
He put the toothpick back in his mouth. “When we were kids, sure. But Norman made me cry two weeks ago. He said my brain was the size of a pea and that it had rolled out of my ear when I was a baby.”
Mammi lifted her eyes from her knitting. “I’ll have to give Norman a talking-to. He was raised better than that.”
Cassie gave the doctor a weak smile. “Norman means well. He’s just a little overprotective. He’s trying his best to save my soul.”
She thought he might laugh, but his frown cut deep lines into his face. “Because you’re not Amish anymore?”
Titus nodded. “He thinks she’s going to hell.”
Zach’s frown degenerated into a scowl. “Who is he to judge?”
She had to wipe that unpleasant look off his face. He certainly didn’t need to concern himself with her family’s problems. She went to Mammi’s cookie jar, retrieved an oatmeal raisin cookie, and handed it to him. “Have a cookie. You look like you’re going to bite Titus’s head off.”
Giving her a sideways glance, he cracked a smile and relaxed his shoulders. “Anything for one of your cookies.”
Dawdi came down the hallway wearing his lighter black coat and leather boots. “Are we ready to go?”
“Ready,” Zach said, polishing off his cookie in three bites. He turned to Titus. “Are you going with us?”