Plain Promise Page 15

  “Do you know I never told Monica about that?” He shook his head. “I mean, she knew a little bit about what happened, but I never felt comfortable enough to talk about it.”

  Sadie was touched by the comment and realized that she felt unusually comfortable talking with Kade as well. An Englischer with whom she had nothing in common. She shared her story about her father’s death, although thankfully, it wasn’t as dramatic—a heart attack. Not long after that, she told him about Ben. Kade listened with compassion and sympathy. By lunchtime, she and Kade were clearly in a new place. It was bewildering, yet wonderful. She hadn’t talked to anyone like this since Ben. And, if she was honest with herself, she and Ben seldom had such deep conversations. Their relationship had brought her comfort and reassurance, knowing she was loved unconditionally, but they rarely spoke about emotional matters. Perhaps they’d never needed to.

  Kade had suggested that maybe Tyler would like to draw, and Sadie had rounded up a pad of paper and some pens. Circles. Tyler liked drawing circles, and he occupied himself for a bit longer.

  “I called my friend Val,” he said as they sipped on a cup of hot cocoa. His face scrolled into a frown, and Sadie waited for him to go on. “But I didn’t tell him I knew about him and Monica.” He paused. “I’m not for sure, and I think I’d like to keep it that way. Besides . . .” He took a deep breath. “I’ve known Val for a long time, and I could hear in his voice that he is suffering.”

  “That must have been very hard to do, no?” Sadie couldn’t understand the life Kade led, but she was appreciating her life more and more. Guilt once again rose to the surface as she realized that, despite her own suffering, she’d been blessed in so many ways.

  “It wasn’t as difficult as I thought it would be. At first, I wanted to lash out at Val. And a few weeks ago, I would have.” Kade stood up and grabbed a log from beside the fireplace and tossed it on the fire. “But something about being here, about spending time with Tyler, with you—” He twisted around to face her for a moment, and then returned to the fire, pushing the wood with the poker. “I’m questioning what my entire life has been about. And the kind of person I’ve been and who I might become.” Then he chuckled. “Sounds nuts, huh?”

  “No,” Sadie said in a somber voice. “I don’t think so. It’s only natural sometimes to question one’s place in this world.”

  He walked back over to where Sadie and Tyler were sitting on the floor, but he didn’t sit down. Tyler toyed with Kade’s shoestring, and Kade zoned in on Sadie, a serious expression on his face. “Do you have any idea how much money I have?”

  What an odd question. “No, I do not.”

  Kade grinned. “And you don’t care in the least, either, do you?”

  Sadie wasn’t sure if he was angry or grateful. But he was right. “No,” she said simply. In his defense, and to be truthful, she added, “But money is measured in our community, just like in the Englisch world. Just not in the same way.”

  “What do you mean?” Kade sat back down in time for Tyler to hand him a picture of dozens of tiny circles. “This is great, Tyler.” He reached out to touch the boy, but Tyler pulled away. Sadie thought about how Tyler had sat in her lap earlier. Perhaps it’s because I am a woman. But she could see the hurt in Kade’s eyes. She took a deep breath and thought out her response.

  “There are those in our Old Order district who have more money than others. For example, Elam Lapp has a fine carpentry business. He makes a gut living. For Christmas, he gave his seventeen- year-old daughter a solid piece of oak furniture.” Sadie paused when Tyler handed her a picture similar to the one he made for Kade. “Danki, Tyler.” She smiled at Tyler, and then turned back to Kade. “But John King gave his daughter, Ellie, of the same age, an oak box to put on her bedside table, for keeping her personal items in. Not worth nearly as much money, but I bet Ellie found it equally as pleasing, because her daed made it for her.” Sadie paused. “We do not value money the same way as the Englisch. It is necessary for survival, but one man’s wealth is not weighed against another’s.”

  “Maybe we’re not as different as you think. I’m sure there are similar situations among Englisch families.”

  Sadie couldn’t help but wonder what the extent of Kade’s wealth was. “Is it rude to ask you how much money you do have?” She raised her brow.

  Kade laughed. “I suppose you would think it silly if I said I didn’t know?”

  “Ya, I would.” And she meant it. She knew how much money she had, or didn’t have, at all times. “We might be plain, Kade, but we know that it takes money to survive. It used to be that our men worked the farms and made a gut living, but now only a few are able to do that. Womenfolk help out by working in bakeries and selling jams, jellies, quilts, and crafts. Our way of life is changing a bit, but we still adhere to the Ordnung and try to stay as disconnected from the Englisch world as we can.”

  “Why is that, anyway?”

  “What?”

  “Why do you have to stay disconnected from our world? How does that benefit your community?”

  “To be unequally yoked is threatening to our people.” This was a conversation he most likely wouldn’t understand, but Sadie didn’t understand much of what Kade said or believed either.

  “How do I threaten you?” He leaned back on his elbows, crossed his ankles. Kade Saunders looked most comfortable in her home.

  “I don’t question my faith, Kade. Nor do I question the faith of those in my community. We know what we believe and practice it in our daily lives.” Sadie felt a pang of conscience but pressed on. “That’s not to say that someone in the Englisch world does not have the same faith that we do. We just don’t know for sure. Here in our community, we know, with no doubts. There is no threat that someone will steer us from what we know to be true. It would be unheard-of.”

  Kade was still resting on his elbows. “So you don’t want anyone from the Englisch world to tempt you to leave here?”

  “No, that’s not exactly it. We have an opportunity to leave during our rumschpringe. If we choose to leave prior to our baptism, we will not face a shunning. Once we are baptized, we have vowed to God a life dedicated to serving Him by following the Ordnung.

  We don’t feel temptation to leave, but if we are unequally yoked, nonbelievers can cause us to question our faith, and questioning of God’s will is not something we believe in.” Again, Sadie’s guilt came to the forefront, fueled by her own lack of trust in God’s will lately.

  “So anything that happens, no matter how bad, is God’s will?” Kade narrowed his brows and pressed his lips together for a moment. “I admire your ability to believe that.”

  “There is nothing admirable about it. To question God’s will is not something we ever . . .” Sadie turned away from him. How could she continue to preach to him when she was repeatedly failing at this very thing?

  She drew in a deep breath, gathered herself, and turned back toward him. “Perhaps I am not the person to tell you of these things.”

  Kade smiled, his eyes brimming with tenderness and compassion. “I think you are just the right person.”

  Sadie lifted herself from the floor and walked to the window, confused by how easily she had shared her most intimate feelings with Kade. He might be Englisch, Sadie thought, but he is still a man. She had been guilty of returning Kade’s tender gazes. It had been hard not to, after all they had shared this morning. But she was wrong to encourage any thoughts that might hint at more than friendship.

  She stared out the window and wondered if Kade was having any ideas about going back to the cottage. The storm didn’t seem any worse, but it didn’t seem any better either. Sadie looked over her shoulder at Kade. The man didn’t look like he was going anywhere, stretched out across the rug beside his son. She turned back around and couldn’t help but grin. If Bishop Ebersol knew about this . . .

  But then she reminded herself of the seriousness of her actions. The bishop might not find out about this time spent with
Kade, but Sadie knew she was crossing the line. And God knows.

  She didn’t have the heart to force Kade to bundle up Tyler and carry the child out into the storm. With the way the wind was swirling around, it would actually be quite dangerous. Hopefully, conditions would improve soon. She decided to lighten the conversation.

  “Maybe when the storm clears, you and Tyler can build a snowman.” She walked back over to the middle of the room and took a seat next to Tyler. “Do you think you would like that, Tyler?” Tyler didn’t acknowledge the question. By now, he’d drawn mazes of circles on at least twenty different sheets of paper.

  “I’ve never made a snowman,” Kade said. He sat up and leaned toward Tyler. “Maybe when the weather gets better, we’ll do that together, Tyler.”

  “You have never made a snowman? Not even as a child?” Sadie raised her brows, thinking how sad that was.

  “I grew up in Los Angeles. We don’t see much snow. By the time I saw real snow, I was too old to build a snowman.”

  “Nonsense,” Sadie exclaimed. “You are never too old to build a snowman. Every year after the first gut snowfall, mei daed would get up early and surprise me with a snowman outside my bedroom window.” She giggled at the recollection. “Each year, he would come up with a different theme for the snowman, or snowwoman, as it sometimes turned out to be.” She put her finger to her chin.

  “One year, I awoke to find a snowman that was built to look like he was standing on his head. Pop put two sticks up top for his feet, and he made the face upside down on the bottom ball of snow.” She laughed. “It was funny. Pop called that snowman ‘Sadie’s silly friend.’ One time, he made two people holding hands. He called them ‘the happy couple.’ Sometimes, he dressed them in clothes, or had them holding brooms or pots, or some other sort of prop. There was this one time—” She stopped and grinned. “This must be terribly boring for you.”

  Kade gazed at her with a glint of wonder in his eyes. “Sadie, I don’t think there’s anything you could say that would bore me.”

  She pulled her eyes from his and focused on Tyler. “Look at all the circles.” She rummaged nervously through the loose papers scattered about. Maybe it was his tone of voice, perhaps the way he’d looked at her, but . . . the alarms were sounding again.

  “Sadie?” He leaned back, resting on his palms behind him.

  She didn’t look up and tried to sound casual. “Ya? ”

  “Look at me,” he whispered.

  Sadie lifted her eyes to meet his.

  “We’re not doing anything wrong, Sadie. You do realize that, right?”

  “I know that,” she said with a shrug. She turned toward the fire. “We need another log, I reckon. I can get it this time.” She started to get up.

  “I’ll get it.” But Kade didn’t move. “In a minute.”

  Sadie took a deep breath and waited for him to go on.

  “Do you remember what I told you last night?” Kade asked. “I just want to be your friend. I enjoy your company. Everything is fine, Sadie.”

  “Ya, I know.” She shrugged again, but Kade was clearly tuned in to her worries

  The last thing Kade wanted to do was rattle his new friend—this amazing, intriguing, beautiful woman. And she had the playfulness of a child at times, like when she talked about the snowmen, her face aglow with memories. She is something. But Kade knew he’d need to go easy with any comments or looks that might hint at what a wonderful person he thought she was. He was having trouble, though. This woman was stirring things in him that he didn’t quite recognize. In his world, it would only be natural to act on such thoughts, or at least voice them. But this woman’s goodness was so real, and Kade knew he would never disrespect her in any way.

  “Are you hungry?” she asked Kade. “I can hear poor Tyler’s tummy growling.”

  “Tyler’s hungry,” Tyler said, without looking up from his current project—more circles.

  Kade glanced at his watch and couldn’t believe it was nearing lunchtime. When he’d sensed that the conversation about the status of their friendship made Sadie uncomfortable, he had changed the subject. Her eyes shone with wonder when Kade told her about some of his travels around the world.

  His expression stilled and grew serious. “You know, I’m worried that we might be wearing out our welcome.” He sure hoped not, though.

  Sadie nodded toward the window. “If you would rather go out into this weather instead of having peanut butter spread on homemade bread, that’s fine with me.” She grinned.

  One minute, she seemed nervous as a cat. The next minute, she was playful and almost . . . flirty. Mixed signals for sure. “I think Tyler and I would much rather stay and have a sandwich with you, as opposed to going out into that.” He pointed toward the window. “Besides, I don’t think I’ve had a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich since I was a kid. And even then, it wasn’t very often.”

  Sadie stood up, smoothed the wrinkles from her apron, and said, “Actually this peanut butter spread is different from the peanut butter in jars that the Englisch use. And we like to put cheese spread on our bread and then top it with the peanut spread, but if you’d like—”

  “No, no.” Kade stood up. “We’ll have whatever you’re having. Sounds great.”

  Kade followed her into the kitchen. “Can I help?”

  “No, it’s fine. You can play with Tyler while I get things ready.” She walked toward the cabinet and pulled out a jar of peanut spread, then a jar of cheese spread. Kade plopped himself down on the bench in the kitchen.

  “So, it’s homemade bread, topped with cheese spread, and then topped with peanut butter spread?” he asked.

  “Ya. We serve this after Sunday church service, but I eat it sometimes for lunch.” She twisted the lid on the peanut spread and placed it on the counter, but the lid on the cheese spread wasn’t budging. After banging the edge on the countertop, she tried again.

  Kade was on his feet and standing next to her right away. “Here, let me,” he offered. The lid unwound with ease, and Kade handed it back to her, but he was in no hurry to leave her side. She smelled so clean and fresh, not bathed in perfume, like most of the women he knew. He breathed in the smell of her one more time before he headed back to the bench.

  “Tyler, are you ready to eat?” Sadie walked into the den to find Tyler still occupied with his drawings.

  “Tyler hungry.”

  “You come right this way,” she said. “I have a special lunch prepared for you.”

  Sadie returned with Tyler by her side. “Why don’t you sit by your pop—I mean, your daed—and I’ll get you some milk.”

  Tyler slid in beside Kade. “You sure have been a good boy, Tyler,” Kade said. He was surprised at how self-entertaining his son had been.

  “Tyler’s a good boy,” Tyler said as he reached for the salt in the middle of the table.

  “Oh, I don’t think we need any salt.” Kade reached for the salt shaker in Tyler’s hand. Mistake. Tyler began to scream at the top of his lungs.

  “What’s wrong?” Sadie was quickly by his side.

  “He’s trying to pour salt all over everything,” Kade said, struggling to get the salt shaker from Tyler.

  “Maybe you should let him have it,” Sadie said.

  “In Monica’s notes, it said that he’ll scream to get what he wants, but that if you give in, he’ll always do that.” Kade pulled the salt from Tyler’s grip. “You can’t have this, Tyler,” he said in a firm voice. Tyler screamed even more and began to bang his head on the table in front of him.

  “Oh, man.” Kade ran his hand through his hair. “Tyler, please don’t do that.” Think. Think. “The itsy-bitsy spider walked up the waterspout . . .” Kade began, recalling that Monica had mentioned that he liked that particular song. Tyler stopped crying and wiped his eyes. It was working. “Down came the rain and washed the spider out . . .” Kade was surprised he remembered the song from his childhood. He even remembered the hand motions and began to dribble th
e rain with his fingers. Tyler started doing the same thing, with a big smile on his face.

  Kade was ending the song when Sadie put a plate in front of Tyler. “Here you go, Tyler. My specialty.” Then she looked at Kade. “See, you are learning Tyler’s ways.” Then she giggled.

  “What?” He loved the way she laughed.

  “It’s funny, and nice, the way you sang to him.” Her face lit up the playful way it did sometimes. Kade nodded, a little embarrassed.

  Tyler dug in almost immediately. “Good,” he said, his mouth full.

  Sadie placed Kade’s plate in front of him. It was the most interesting lunch he’d ever been served. In addition to the sandwich, there was something on the side that looked like applesauce, and something else he’d seen in his refrigerator at the cottage but hadn’t tried.

  “That’s applesauce and chowchow,” Sadie said when she saw him eyeing his plate. She sat down across from them at the table. “It’s gut. Try it.”

  The applesauce was fine, but he didn’t care too much for the chowchow—mixed vegetables in some sort of pickling sauce. He wasn’t much of a pickle eater. “It’s great,” he lied. The peanut butter and cheese spreads on the bread were delicious, though. Who would have thought?

  “Danki,” she said.

  After lunch, they resumed their places in the den. Sadie had found several things to entertain Tyler. Two decks of cards, a doll, which oddly didn’t have a face, and a bag of building blocks she said she kept on hand for visitors’ children. Tyler loved the blocks and stayed entertained for the next four hours, during which time Kade and Sadie swapped stories about their childhoods, their parents, Alicia, Ben, and a host of other topics.

  “You are so easy to talk to,” Kade said during a break. I could stay here forever. He was so detached from the life he knew, and he couldn’t remember being happier.

  “It’s easy to talk to you too.” Kade could tell it was hard for her to say, and her eyes avoided his. She glanced out the window. “This is supposed to be the worst of the blizzard,” she said. “Tomorrow morning should be much better, but we might be snowed in for a few days.”