An Unexpected Match Read online

She lowered the lid until she heard it click shut, then hurried to the driver’s seat. She climbed in and grabbed her backpack. She was pulling her phone free when a car drove into the lot.

  The headlights blinded her as the car drove directly to her. Suddenly she felt very vulnerable. She was the only person in the empty lot in the rain in the dark. It was what she got for not being the good Amish woman she should be. If she was obeying the Ordnung, she’d be home, not here. She’d be dry, not wet. She’d be safe, not feeling exposed and in danger.

  She hit the lock buttons. Could she drive away on a bad tire even if it was difficult? Would that ruin the car? Or maybe she could just blow the horn and the people in the diner would hear and call for help.

  The car shuddered to a stop beside her and the driver’s window came down. Rob peered at her through the rain.

  Relief made her weak. She fumbled with her own window.

  “I had to come back to make sure you were okay. I had a hunch, an instinct you might need help.”

  “You’re right. I do. I have a flat tire.”

  “Ah.” He nodded, his hunch confirmed. “Which one?”

  “Front passenger.”

  “Okay, let’s fix it.”

  Just like that her problem went away.

  He positioned his car so his headlights shone on the collapsed tire. He climbed into the weather, pulling on a plastic rain poncho. It billowed around him, falling to his hips. He pulled the hood of the poncho up, but it refused to stay on his head. At the slightest movement, it slid off. He gave up trying to make it stay. “At least my shirt will stay dry.”

  “I’ve got an umbrella.” She reached for it.

  “That’s okay; don’t bother. I need both hands free. Pop the trunk, will you?” He walked to the back of the car.

  She climbed out, her umbrella blooming above her, and hit the fob. There was no way she could sit in the car and wait while he got wet on her behalf.

  “Get back in the car.” He made shooing motions. “No use both of us getting drenched.”

  What he said made sense. “I can’t. What can I do to help?”

  He looked at her. “Ever change a tire?”

  She shook her head.

  “Then I’ll teach you how, but you should join triple A.”

  “Okay.” She made a mental note: google triple A.

  He pulled out the tire and it bounced on the asphalt. “Want to grab the jack from the clip there?”

  She grabbed everything that was secured in the trunk by a clip and lugged the heavy stuff to the front of the car. Rob went down on his knees and got to work. Rachel could almost feel the chill moisture seeping into his denim-covered legs.

  “Whoa.” Rob sounded surprised. “Whoever put these lugs on last really tightened them. Even if you’d known what you were doing, Rachel, you probably couldn’t have budged them.” He grinned at her. “You don’t have to feel guilty or inept anymore.”

  “What makes you think I feel guilty and inept?” She sounded defensive.

  “It’s written all over your face. Plus you don’t like not knowing how to do something, right?”

  How did he know her so well? “Okay. I’ll no longer feel stupid and inept. I’ll feel weak and puny because I couldn’t have moved the lugs.” Ten minutes ago she hadn’t known that lugs existed.

  He laughed and used all his considerable strength. Finally the lug nuts loosened. He took considerable care that the jack was positioned correctly and began ratcheting the car off the ground.

  “Here.” Rob handed her a lug nut. “Hold tight.” He handed her another and another and another. “Don’t lose them. We don’t want to search for them under the car because that’s where they always roll. Belly crawling in weather like this is nasty.”

  Rachel held the lug nuts carefully while the old wheel came off and the new slid on.

  “One at a time now.” He held out his hand.

  In no time he was lowering the car and packing up the jack. She walked to the trunk beside him, umbrella covering neither of them effectively. Water dripped from his hair, running down his face and neck. He had to be wet under his rain poncho. It would be her fault if he got a cold. Her own hair was so thick it protected her though her face felt covered with moisture. A facial given by nature. She smiled at the thought.

  “I’d still be sitting here trying to figure out what to do if it wasn’t for you, Rob. Thank you so much!”

  He held up a hand and smiled his charming half smile. “I’m glad I could help, pretty lady.”

  Pretty lady! She felt her cheeks grow hot and gave a tentative smile back.

  He reached out suddenly and caught a handful of her hair, letting it wind itself around his finger. “I love the way your hair curls in the rain.” He lifted his eyes from her hair and stared directly at her.

  She couldn’t breathe as she stared back. The moment was intimate, just the two of them caught close in a private rain world. It might just be pheromones or endorphins or some other hormones like the websites said, but the emotional tug was real. Very real.

  “Thank you,” she managed to whisper when she finally drew a breath. She longed to push his dripping hair off his forehead but didn’t have the nerve.

  His eyes lowered to her lips. She licked them in response.

  A woman’s laughter sounded as the diner’s door opened.

  Rachel blinked. What was she thinking? She spun to open her door and jerked, caught short by his grip on her hair.

  “Sorry.” He released her and stepped back, now completely exposed to the rain.

  She climbed in and slammed her door. She threw the umbrella onto the floor and stared at the steering wheel without seeing it. After a minute she forced herself to look up at him, still standing in the rain. She gave a small smile, a little nod, and, heart thundering, drove away to safety.

  Chapter 22

  Monday evening Johnny pulled open the Star Diner’s door and held it as Bennett and Merle shoved their way through. The evening was young, only 8:30. The Star didn’t serve beer, but it had great food. They could go somewhere else to drink after they ate.

  “Great fried chicken!” Merle said when he suggested they come here. “And fresh made real mashed potatoes!”

  “You miss your mama’s cooking,” Johnny teased.

  “I do miss her cooking,” Merle agreed. “That’s why I go home every Sunday for her big dinner. Of course she wants me to go to church first, but she can’t make me. I try never to be too hung over. Makes her too sad.”

  “Aw, the boy loves his mama.” Bennett was vocal about not liking his grumpy, critical mother, not that Johnny blamed him.

  “I do,” Merle said. “Love my mama and her cooking.”

  Johnny studied his new friend. Merle was from a family as religious as his, but Englisch. He hadn’t realized Englischers could be as fanatical as the Amish. “My mom’s a good cook too.”

  “Ah, good Amish cooking.” Merle looked at him. “Do you go home for meals? You’re not shunned or nothing, are you?”

  Johnny shook his head. “Never baptized, so not shunned.”

  “So do you go home?”

  “I go home as in stopping by for a visit. I was there last Sunday.” And it hadn’t been too bad. Of course almost an hour was a long way from living there.

  Living at the farm had seemed the logical thing to do when Mick was banging on his door last week, but the passing of time made the threat seem less real. They weren’t going to kill him. He couldn’t pay them back if he was dead. They just wanted to scare him—which they did.

  Then too, the more he thought about it, the work and the love at the farm were more than he wanted to deal with, especially the love. Hiding from Mick was less work than holding off Ma’s grasping for his soul. He’d visit more often just in case things got worse with Mr. Sherman, but he didn’t think they would, especially if he stayed out of sight. After all, out of sight, out of mind.

  The Star was busy, but they didn’t have to wait. The
hostess smiled as she handed them menus.

  “Don’t need one,” Johnny said as he eyed the buffet.

  “Good choice,” she said and hurried off to seat others.

  “Did you see her lookin’ at you, Johnny? It’s your tattoos,” Merle said. “They scared a sweet thing like her. That’s why she ran off.”

  “Ha.” Johnny felt offended. There was not one single scary thing about him. His tats were small and half hidden by his shirt sleeve. He was clean shaven and rosy-cheeked. Adorable. Didn’t the girls at Corner Bob’s always say that?

  Now Merle, with his long hair, leather jacket, and biker-dude attitude? Or Bennett and his shaved head, handlebar mustache, and perpetual frown? Scary.

  The three of them hit the buffet, picking it over as thoroughly as a cloud of locusts might. With heaped plates they slid back in their booth.

  An Amish girl approached them hesitantly, pitcher of sweetened tea in hand. “More?”

  Johnny was surprised to see her this far from what he thought of as Amish country. He wasn’t aware of any Amish community this close to Lyndale. Someone must have driven her here. She held out her pitcher of tea.

  “Mft,” Johnny managed around a mouthful of pork and sauerkraut. Merle and Bennett nodded, their mouths too full for even a mumbled noise.

  “Excuse me,” said the man at the table across the aisle. They all looked at him, but he was looking at the Amish girl. Tourist, Johnny thought with disdain. As if the camera in his hand wasn’t sign enough, he was holding it out to the Amish girl.

  “Would you mind taking our picture?” He indicated his family.

  The girl looked at the camera as if it were a snake poised to bite her. She seemed momentarily paralyzed by the request.

  Johnny swallowed the pork and sauerkraut and held out his hand. “I’ll take it for you.”

  The Amish girl looked at him as if he’d saved her life. She fled, pitcher of tea held high for protection like an old Anabaptist might have held a Bible on his way to the flames.

  The tourist looked after her, confused, but as Johnny took his camera, the girl was momentarily forgotten. The man and his family of wife and three kids smiled for Johnny and the camera, and Johnny took two pictures which the man checked and approved.

  “Thanks,” he said and looked across the room where the Amish girl was pouring more tea. “I did something wrong?”

  Johnny smiled at the guy’s ignorance. “Graven images.” He pointed to the camera.

  The man’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh.”

  His kids laughed, and his wife said, “I told you not to bother her.”

  Johnny slid back into his booth and grabbed a drumstick. He took a bite as he stared across the room where the Amish girl was just finishing topping off beverages. He squinted. He blinked several times. He tilted his head. The view never changed.

  Was that his sister Rachel having dinner just like him? It was! And just like him she was wearing Englisch clothes and eating with Englischers. Rachel. His sister! Englisch clothes. Englisch company. And her hair was down. Unbound. No kapp. And she was with some guy and another couple. A double date?

  The chicken caught in his throat as Johnny watched her laugh at something the guy seated beside her said. He leaned in as he talked, his shoulder resting against Rachel’s, and Rachel didn’t move away. What was that action?

  He’d always thought Rachel was pretty, even when he was a kid and knew thinking about outward appearances instead of the inner heart was vain and unworthy. But she was pretty. Put her next to Sally and Ruthie, and Rachel drew the eye. It was the reddish tint to her thick hair and the way it insisted on curling on her forehead no matter how severely Ma combed it back and rolled the sides.

  Hanging long, all that curl broke loose, and her hair was breathtaking. She was breathtaking. The guy she was with slid his arm along the back of the booth and dropped it casually onto Rachel’s shoulders. Again she didn’t seem to mind.

  Merle followed his intense gaze. “Whoa! Who’s that? She’s gorgeous.”

  Bennett looked and his eyes went wide. He spun to Johnny, his mouth open to tell Merle just who that was.

  Johnny shook his head. No, he mouthed, desperate for a reason he couldn’t articulate. No!

  Bennett looked uncertain but shut his mouth. He swiveled to look at Rachel again as if he had to make certain he was seeing who he thought he was seeing.

  Merle’s eyes narrowed. “I know those two guys.” He whistled and smirked. “So he’s back in town. What do you know?”

  “What?” Johnny looked at the guy sitting too close to his sister, completely absorbed by whatever she was saying. “What do you know about them?”

  “Went to high school with them. I was a year or two behind the older one and a couple of years ahead of the younger one.” He nodded his head to the men across the restaurant. “What a mess when the story broke in the paper. Talk about how the mighty are fallen!”

  Johnny’s stomach pitched so wildly he could barely get the mouthful of baked limas down. “What do you mean, fallen? What’d he do? They do?” And did Rachel know?

  “Not them. Their father. As far as I know, he’s still in jail.”

  “Jail?”

  “He was a money guy who stole from his clients. Stole lots of money. Big deal on TV and in the papers. I think Rob over there went into the Army to get away from it all. Win, the one sitting beside the little blonde, stayed at home because he hadn’t finished school yet.”

  Rachel’s guy was or had been in the Army. The Army! Not that he thought anything bad about Army guys, but Rachel and her innocence! Just last Sunday she’d sat on the porch at Mom and Datt’s in her regulation clothing. She’d attended Gmay, sat for three hours singing songs that lasted fifteen minutes each and listening to sermons that lasted an hour. And now she was hanging out with a guy who had been in the Army?

  He glanced at the Amish girl with the tea. Rachel undoubtedly felt safe so far from home, but who knew when other Amish might pop up. And someone was bound to recognize her sooner or later.

  As he and the guys left the restaurant, Bennett crowded close, letting Merle walk ahead. “Aren’t you going to talk to her?”

  Johnny shook his head. “Not now.”

  “But—but don’t you want to know what she’s doing here? I do.”

  “None of your business, Bennett,” Johnny hissed. “I mean it.”

  Bennett looked back at the restaurant as if he could see Rachel through the walls. “Who’d have ever thought Rachel—”

  Johnny grabbed Bennett’s shirt front. “You didn’t see her, Ben.”

  Bennett frowned. “Of course I saw her.”

  “You. Did. Not. See. Her.”

  “You mean I shouldn’t tell I saw her.”

  How to make Bennett understand? “It’s Rachel, Ben. Rachel. She’s never done anything wrong in her whole life.”

  “Yeah, so why’s she here? Dressed like that? With two Englisch guys and girl?”

  Johnny shook his head. If there was one thing he never thought he’d ever see it was Rachel doing something wrong.

  Not that what she was doing was wrong wrong. It was Amish wrong. And Rachel was a good Amish girl. She was the one who always did what was expected and seemed to enjoy it. She was the one who was kind and humble and helpful and peaceable and all the other good-girl words.

  “We going to Bob’s for the night?” Merle asked, car key dangling from his finger as he waited impatiently for Johnny and Bennett to catch up. “There’s a darts tournament I want to get in on. I’m winning tonight, so put your money on me.”

  “You say that every night.” Bennett pulled open the passenger door. “And I keep being stupid enough to believe you. But not tonight. I’m keeping my cash in my pocket.”

  Johnny stood by his car only half listening. Rachel was back there with some unknown guy who was obviously leading her astray. As her brother, he had to protect her, save her.

  “You guys go on,” he said. “I’
ll catch up. I got something I got to do first. It won’t take long.”

  Bennett got this I-got-it look that made Johnny’s insides shudder. The guy might be a loyal friend, but he was stupid about keeping his mouth shut.

  “Come on, Merle.” Bennett contorted his face in Johnny’s direction in what Johnny thought was supposed to be a wink. “Let’s go. He’ll catch up.”

  After Merle and Bennett drove off, Johnny sat in his car and stared at the restaurant door and waited. Sure enough, it wasn’t long before Rachel and the guy—Rob, Merle had called him—came out. She was smiling, and he was walking close beside her, his hand on the small of her back. The other couple came out too, laughing about something, but Johnny didn’t care about them.

  Rachel wore a short grey jacket that looked appropriately Amish, but the pink scarf she had looped around her neck wasn’t Amish any more than the slacks she wore.

  Johnny had felt bad for Rachel when Aaron died. He was a nice guy, not very exciting, but he seemed to love Rachel. Johnny never quite understood what Rachel saw in him, but he was a decent guy. Amish to his toenails.

  He had expected her to get remarried a year or two ago to some other good Amish guy, but no. Why hadn’t some man grabbed her up? She was pretty and kind and smart and she could cook at least passably. He sat up straight as a new thought struck.

  Too smart? Surely there was an Amish man out there who wasn’t put off by her brains.

  He knew she used to sneak down to Max’s and use her computer. Even Ma and Datt knew it. But she stopped when she was baptized, didn’t she? She didn’t go when she was married, did she?

  Another thought had him blinking in shock. What if she met Rob on some computer dating site? He wanted to laugh aloud at the absurdity of the idea, but was it that ridiculous? He knew several guys who met girls that way. He’d thought about it himself on lonely nights except his heart belonged to Becky even if she didn’t want it.

  But the guy was local. Merle had said. Not a dating site. So where did she meet him?

  Rachel and Rob walked to a black Camry. He held the door for her as she got in the driver’s seat. Then he made a lock-the-doors motion before he got into the SUV parked beside her. How sweet.