that eveningâthe endless giggles of the girls in the backseat or the utter silence that stretched between her and Caleb in the front. Amish men typically didnât chatter, but sheâd think he could say something as the horse clopped along. Sheâd assumed at first that he was concentrating on the traffic, but once they turned onto a winding gravel road, that wasnât an issue.
The road wound between pastures and through dense stands of hemlock and hickory trees. Slanting sunlight touched the fresh green growth, so much lighter and brighter than it would be later in the summer. She looked toward the distant ridge, where the setting sun had begun to turn the clouds to purple. Still . . . everything was so still, save for the girlsâ soft voices and the clop of the horseâs hooves.
She slanted a glance toward Caleb, but his strong-featured face gave nothing away. Probably it would be better if she could clear the air between them over Rhodaâs behavior the previous day, but she could hardly do that with Rhoda sitting behind her.
Katie could be imagining the heavy disapproval that came from Caleb, but she didnât think so. It was only too obvious that he didnât care for the friendship that had grown between his niece and her sister.
Well, if he wouldnât speak, she would. âIt was kind of you to pick us up tonight for the singing, Caleb.â
âItâs nothing.â His gaze was fixed at a spot between the horseâs ears. âGideon suggested it.â
Did that mean that Caleb wouldnât have made the offer if Gideon hadnât thought of it? Probably. She tamped her annoyance down.
âI am used to having a horse and buggy of my own,â she said, âbut it wasnât practical to try and bring them this far. My cousin Aaron has a buggy I can use, so Iâll probably buy a horse.â
That got Calebâs attention, and he swung toward her, brown eyes seeming to frown. âWhere will you keep them?â
She stared blandly back at him. âBishop Mose said that I can share the stable behind the building with you. After all, you only use it during the day.â
A muscle twitched in his jaw. âIâm sure your cousins would be happy to take you anywhere you need.â
âJa, they would, but Iâm used to getting myself where I want to go.â She hadnât particularly looked for such independence, but it had found her.
âIf you were my cousin, I would not want you to have to do things like that.â His voice grated on the words.
âThen it is a gut thing you are not my cousin, ainât so?â
He didnât bother answering, just turned in at the farm lane behind several other buggies, all headed for the barn where theyâd worshipped that morning. A small white sign announced the presence of RACHELâS GARDEN, NO SUNDAY SALES.
Katie clamped her lips shut. Sheâd said too much, no doubt about it.
If Rhoda were to be happy here, she needed friends like Becky. For Rhodaâs sake, Katie should make an effort to get along with Beckyâs uncle. Too bad he had the ability to bring out all the worst aspects of her nature with just a look.
Caleb drew into the row of buggies parked along the lane, and a couple of boys ran to help. Rhoda and Becky slid out in a hurry, obviously eager to get to the fun, and Katie followed more slowly.
âWe want to join the volleyball game. All right?â Rhoda said, nodding to where a net had been set up on the lawn near the barn, a safe distance from the greenhouse where Rachel obviously grew the plants she sold. A fair-sized group of boys and girls, maybe thirty or more of them, milled around the net, probably more interested in each other than in the game.
âOf course.â Katie bit back the impulse to remind Rhoda to behave properly. Rhoda wouldnât appreciate it, and no wonder. Katie certainly wouldnât have at that age. âIâll