love--at least some of it--he had no idea that Dan had met face-to-face with Katherine as recently as yesterday.
It would not do to try to explain things. Not since his encounter with the modern Katie had blown up in his face. And, really, what could he expect? Impulsive and headstrong, Katie had often exerted herself in a rather forceful way. Even durirlg their courting years, she'd fired questions at him. Why was he going off to a Bible study, of all things? Why did he have so many friends outside the Amish church?
He was quite certain she'd suspected him of associating with Mennonites during those years. He hadn't gone out of his way to keep that part of his social life from her. And if it had seemed so, it was only out of concern for her, not wanting to stir up religious doubts in Katie, not wanting her to think that the Amish life might not have been right ....
The drive home was less stressful; traffic was sparse due to the snowstorm and icy roads. He thought of what he might cook for lunch, remembering the savory aroma and the mouth-watering taste of oven-fried chicken. Such a "plain-good" recipe! He'd copied it onto an index card years ago while living alone for the first time. The secret was in the amount of butter used. Planning this tasty treat occupied his mind as he turned cautiously onto the side street-- his street--too narrow and deserted to be either plowed or sanded, even in a ferocious storm.
He parked the car by the curb and ducked his head against the stiff wind. Inside the house, Dan removed his coat and scarf, flinging it over the coatrack in the small en
82
tryway. Hurrying to the refrigerator, he opened the freezer, took out a package of frozen chicken and stuck it in the microwave, setting the control to automatic defrost. He went to the kitchen window and stood there, watching the snow--thick as goose down--fall through the gray fog. Thoughts of Katie filled his mind, his heart. He wondered now if perhaps she was right. Maybe he should have left well enough alone. Had he erred in locating her--going to the mansion unannounced, disturbing her life in such a manner?
Unable to think of much else, he felt the need to pray for her, pray that she might encounter someone--some- thing--to lead her to faith in the Lord Jesus.
Turning back to the chore at hand, he gathered the ingredients to prepare the chicken--flour, salt, poultry seasoning, pepper, and butter--something to do to keep his hands busy. A man ought to allow himself a big meal in the middle of the day, if only to fortify himself against the pain of love lost.., love wasted and betrayed.
83
In Hickory Hollow the Amishwomen all looked alike, Katherine recalled while snowed in for the second day in a row. She sat snug by the fire in the enormous library, reading A Girl of the Limberlost, captivated by the similarities between herself and Elnora Comstock, a girl who caught moths to pay for her schooling. Elnora, a young woman growing up in Indiana during the 1860s, lived by the Golden Rule, loved nature, and longed to be loved by her mother.
Sighing, Katherine could almost feel the drab brown dress around her own ankles as she read the excruciating account of Elnora's first day of high school, entering the auditorium to taunts and jeers. She knew just how this dear girl from "the olden days" had felt. Katherine, too, had experienced the selfsame thing, usually while running errands in town at Central Market or at Roots, another gathering place where Amish farmers and other merchants sold their wares.
People, especially tourists, liked to gawk. She keenly remembered her feelings of resentment at being the object of ridicule, even if she never said anything about it. All the Plain women attracted attention--the way they pulled their hair into tight buns at the back of their heads, the severe
84
clothing, the devotional head coverings. Looking the same as every other woman in Hickory Hollow had made her feel empty. Yet, at the age of