Free Courting Cate by Leslie Gould

interested in going on a hike Saturday afternoon? With me and a few others?”
    “Such as?”
    “Levi.”
    “And Betsy?” I crossed my arms.
    He nodded. “And Mervin and Martin.”
    I may have been scowling by then.
    “Think about it,” he quickly said, holding up his injured hand. “Don’t give me an answer right now. In fact there’s no need to tell me until Friday. I promise I won’t be”—his eyes sparkled—“ stubborn about it.”
    I uncrossed my arms, and he turned and walked, in his usualconfident manner, toward the back door. But then he turned and said very sweetly, “Thank you for taking care of me.”
    I nodded curtly.
    And then, his brown eyes dancing, he winked at me.
    I crossed my arms again, but before I could respond, Betsy came banging into the kitchen, yelling, “Cate! Cate! You’re never going to believe—” Her voice fell. “Oh, hi, Pete. What are you doing in here?”
    “I was just leaving.” He turned back toward me, smiled again, and slipped past her, out the back.
    Betsy lowered her voice as she reached for my crossed hands, but couldn’t contain her excitement. “Pete wants you to go on a hike with the rest of us.”
    I must have still had a scowl on my face.
    “Please,” she begged, pulling my hands apart and then swinging my arms. “You have to go. This is our lucky break.”
    I scowled, sure Martin and Mervin had put him up to it. There was no way a man like Pete would be interested in spending time with me.
    After dinner, as I walked back down to the office, a car pulled into the parking lot of the showroom. The woman who got out of the car wore a Mennonite Kapp , and it wasn’t until she turned toward me that I realized it was Nan.
    “Hello,” I called out, hurrying toward her, before it dawned on me she’d probably come to see Pete, not me.
    She squinted up the hill, holding her hand above her eyes to shade them from the high sun. Even though she wasn’t at work, she still had a pencil tucked behind her ear. “Oh, Cate,” she said. “I hoped I’d see you.”
    Feeling a little awkward, I quickened my pace.
    “You have a beautiful place here,” she said, gesturing toward the yard, the house, and then the barn. “Do you garden?”
    “My sister does most of it.”
    “Ah, the infamous Betsy.”
    I sighed. “Aren’t you working today?”
    “I have Tuesdays off,” she said. “It’s my writing day, but I thought I’d check on Pete.”
    “He’s in here.” I stepped toward the door and opened it.
    Pete and my Dat stood at the counter, huddled over an open three-ring binder. They both looked up quickly.
    Pete broke into a grin. “Bob,” he said, “this is Nan Beiler. From back home, a distant cousin. Nan—Bob Miller.”
    He sounded both professional and enthusiastic.
    Dat and Nan shook hands.
    “I’ve known Cate for several years,” she said. “I’m the bookmobile lady.”
    Dat beamed. “Then you’re also the writer, jah? The scribe for The Budget ?”
    “That’s right,” she said. It was the first time I’d ever seen her blush.
    I stepped toward the far door of the showroom, wanting to get back to my office. I’d been working on the inventory for the cabinet business and aimed to finish it by the end of the workday.
    “Want to go on a hike on Saturday?” Pete asked. For a moment I thought he’d asked me again, but then I realized it was directed toward Nan.
    “I haven’t been on a hike in years.” Her eyes shone.
    He turned toward Dat. “We’d like to have you come along too,” he said.
    “Who’s ‘we’?” Dat stroked his beard.
    Pete looked straight at me. “Levi, Mervin, Martin, and your daughters, if Cate agrees to come along.”
    Now Dat had his eyes on me too.
    I stepped closer to the door.
    Nan smiled at me. “I’ll go if Cate goes.”
    Pete grinned.
    I grabbed the doorknob.
    “Looks like it’s settled.” Dat’s happy face matched Pete’s.
    “Do you want to go?” Nan asked me. She wasn’t grinning. Instead a