Katie's Way Read Free Page B

in the adjoining shop, and Katie looked through the archway to see Caleb closing up. He hadn’t acknowledged her presence except for a polite nod of greeting this morning, but she hadn’t forgotten what he might have, must have, heard Mamm say about Rhoda the day before.
    He didn’t strike her as a man who’d gossip, but she couldn’t just leave it, ignoring the possibility. Not giving herself time to think, she walked quickly through the archway.
    â€œI hope all the people coming and going today didn’t bother you. I’m sure it won’t normally be so busy.”
    For a moment Caleb didn’t speak, the strong planes of his face resembling nothing so much as the wood he worked with. Even his eyes were like the wood—a deep, rich brown—as was his hair. The fact that he was beardless showed the unexpected cleft in his strong chin.
    He shrugged, palms open. “It was not a problem. Did you have a gut opening?”
    The most words she’d heard from him in a row . . . that might be a hopeful sign. “Not bad. Lots of people came looking. No big sales, but most folks went away with something, if only a quilted pot holder.”
    He gave a short nod, and turned away. Apparently that was all he had to say to her. But it wasn’t all she needed to say to him. If he told other people what Mamm had said about Rhoda, life here could be difficult for her sister before it even started.
    â€œPaula Schatz brought me a whole tray of sweets from her bakery to celebrate the opening.” The Mennonite woman’s bakery, Katie had learned, was just a few doors down Pleasant Valley’s main street. “Can I persuade you to take some home to your family?”
    â€œNo. Denke,” he added, as if thinking he’d been rude. “My sister-in-law bakes enough for half the county as it is.” He glanced at the paper plate in her hand. “I shouldn’t think you’d want people eating around your quilts.”
    â€œI had the food and drink in the back room. Most people were sensible enough to keep it there.” She shrugged. “It was worthwhile, I think. Serving something brings folks in and makes them feel wilkom. If they stay longer, they buy more, ain’t so?”
    His brows, a darker brown than his eyes, drew down. “I’ve no need for such gimmicks. If people want something, they buy it, that’s all.”
    She had to bite her tongue to keep from telling him how wrong he was. “If you have well-made products, buyers will find you. That’s true. But there are things you can do to draw people’s attention.”
    His shop was a prime example, and her hands itched to rearrange things in a way that would highlight their beauty. That rocker, for instance, with the intricately turned spindles—it should be up front where the customer’s eye fell on it immediately. The whole space looked cluttered and unwelcoming to her eyes.
    He shook his head in a way that dismissed both her and her sales ideas. “Your family ... have they gone home already, then?”
    â€œJust to my cousin Molly’s for supper.” Here was an opening to find out what he’d heard about Rhoda, if she could see how best to use it. Did she dare ask such a forbidding personality to keep silent? “They’ll be going home tomorrow, except for my sister Rhoda. She’s staying to help me for a while.”
    â€œI see.” Two words only. But he crossed his arms over his broad chest, and glanced down, not meeting her eyes.
    She’d dealt with enough customers in her mother’s shop to read in his body language what he didn’t say. He’d heard, that was certain-sure.
    She took a breath, murmuring a silent prayer for guidance. “Caleb, I think that you must have heard what my mother said about why Rhoda is staying here.”
    His face tightened. “I don’t listen to what doesn’t concern