Anna snuggled close. “And I am glad that you will not always be this ugly.”
Greta laughed. “Me too.” After a moment she sat back and looked her students in the eyes. “But you must understand that outward beauty is not important. It is a beautiful spirit that is pleasing to der Herr.”
Peter looked up at Greta with a serious expression. “Miss Witmer is very beautiful on the outside.”
“Hmm. Well, yes. I suppose so.”
“Ja, she is very beautiful.” Eliza nodded solemnly. “Have you seen her? She has black hair and blue eyes. Mama says that is a very unusual combination.”
“That is true. I guess.”
“So, does that mean that she is beautiful on the inside, too?” Peter asked. “Because that makes sense. The inside should look like the outside.”
“Hmmm. Well. I could not say as far as Miss Witmer is concerned. I mean, I am sure that she is a . . . um . . . a lovely person but, as a general rule, we should not judge the inside by the outside. A beautiful outside does not mean that a person has a beautiful spirit.”
“Huh.” Peter frowned. “That does not make much sense.”
“Maybe not, but it is true. And as Amish, we take inner beauty very seriously. That is why we dress simply and live simply.”
Peter smiled. “I think that you are very beautiful on the inside, Greta. Even though you are not as beautiful as Miss Witmer on the outside.”
“Oh. Thank you, Peter.” Greta looked down and adjusted her neck cloth. She forced a smile. “That is very kind.” Greta changed the subject, but as she recited the ABCs aloud she could not help but wish that she were as beautiful on the outside as the stunning Catrina Witmer.
Chapter Fifteen
Greta felt a quiet dread the entire way to the worship service. She kept hearing Catrina’s laughter as she and Ruth walked along the narrow path that cut through the woods to the Gruber cabin. The last, stubborn leaves clung to oak branches and crackled in the crisp breeze. The sun streamed through the treetops and cast long rectangles of golden light at their feet. But Greta didn’t notice. Instead, she imagined the possessive look in Catrina’s striking blue eyes when she looked at Jacob. Greta stopped to adjust her woolen hosen where the fabric bunched at her ankle. Remember, this is not a competition. Jacob is not interested in you. She sighed. “I just want to get this over with.”
“Oh, Greta! For goodness’ sake. You sound like you are on the way to the executioner’s block.”
“I simply cannot put Catrina Witmer out of my mind.”
Ruth looked sympathetic. “I imagine not. Just try and remember what you told your students this week—that strength of character trumps beauty every time.”
“Easy to say but not so easy to believe!”
They rounded the top of a hill and saw other settlers strolling toward the Gruber cabin. Greta felt a familiar pang of loneliness as she watched couples stroll side by side. A father hoisted a young boy onto his shoulders and then reached for his wife’s hand. Greta looked away and tried to ignore the emptiness she felt deep inside.
Greta watched as Jacob stepped through the threshold of the cabin. Her heart caught in her throat as she studied his dark, somber eyes. She swallowed hard and looked away.
The Grubers’ son, Christian, met Greta at the door. “I am glad that you came to my house today.” He grinned. “I always come to your house.”
“And I am very glad to be here, Christian.” She crouched down, straightened his waistcoat, and smiled. But when she glanced past him, the smile faded. Catrina sat primly on one of the backless benches, her lovely eyes on Jacob. He felt Catrina’s stare and glanced up. Their eyes met and Catrina boldly held the gaze for a few beats, then dropped her eyes modestly.
Greta flinched. I dare say she would be bold enough to sit down right beside him, if men and women sat on the same side during worship services! She looked away. I cannot let myself think ill of Catrina. After all, Jacob is free and she is a good match. And she did ask me if I held any prior claim to his affection. The realization only made her feel more alone.
After the service, Greta picked at her food and watched Jacob lean against the wall with his wooden trencher in hand. His eyes looked dark and distant. Catrina caught his gaze from across the room and flashed him a smile. He nodded and looked back at the rabbit stew on his trencher. Greta watched Catrina frown and stare at him. She looked confused. Greta felt her heart skip across her breastbone. He does not look very interested in Catrina. She stood up straighter. How I wish I knew what he was thinking right now!
Catrina stared at Jacob for a few beats. When he did not look back up, she took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and turned away. She is not going to let him ignore her, is she? Greta watched Catrina walk to the table and pick up a wooden platter covered with a white cloth. She wove her way through the room until she reached Jacob. Her lips broke into an alluring smile.
“I baked something special.” Catrina whipped the cloth off the platter. “Cake!” The soft white confection looked delicate and delicious, especially compared to the coarse, unseasoned food on Jacob’s plate. “You will have the first slice.”
She took his arm and steered him toward the table. “I know how long it has been since you have had cake. You have been in the wilderness for so long—months and months!” Her soft, pale fingers squeezed his arm. “You must be so brave! However have you managed?”
Greta watched from across the room with her mouth agape. “She stole my idea!” Greta grabbed Ruth’s sleeve. “Do you see that? That was my idea! I was going to bring cake! That is my cake!”
“It should have been! I braved wasps to bake that man a cake. WASPS!”
“Shhh. Do not shout, dear. It makes you sound like a heathen. Anyway, I thought you said that you were making that cake for the children.”
“Ja. For the children.” Her shoulders sagged in defeat. “I have one hope left.”
“What is that?”
“That her cake tastes like chalk.”
“That sounds a bit unkind, does it not?”
Greta gave an exaggerated sigh. “I did not say that I want it to taste like chalk. Just that my only hope is that it does.”
Ruth grunted.
Catrina made a show of cutting the cake. She looked around the room to make sure that everyone watched as she placed a fat slice on Jacob’s wooden trencher. He picked up a generous bite and popped it in his mouth. Greta held her breath as she waited for his reaction.
Jacob chewed. Seconds ticked by. Then he shook his head. He grinned. “That just might be the best thing I have ever tasted.” Catrina smiled and looked down in a show of modesty.
The children shouted and gathered around Catrina. They pulled at her skirts and reached for the sugary treat. She grinned and patted them on the heads. “Who wants cake?”
“We do!” they shrieked in unison, and jumped up and down.
“Even the children like her better,” Greta whispered to Ruth.
“Oh, Greta, enough.”
Catrina passed out slices of cake to all of the settlement’s youngsters. The entire room came alive with energy and unexpected excitement. Except for Greta’s corner. She watched Jacob enjoy his slice of cake with a look of shock on her face. How did my plan fail so, and hers became such a success?! She swallowed and tried to push away her competitive thoughts. Ach, I cannot blame her for her skills. She has bested me. I just wish I did not feel so small and meager!
Little Anna reached up and tugged on Catrina’s sleeve. “Greta says that there is not any sugar. How did you get sugar? And white flour? Are you a princess?”
Catrina put her hands to her cheeks. “A princess, goodness no.” She glanced at Jacob to see if he was paying attention, then looked back to Anna. “I am a Plain woman, who just wants to make others happy. We brought supplies from Philadelphia with us—sugar, white flour, coffee, and chickens. Oh, and nails.” She turned to Jacob. “Y
ou must take some nails, and some hens as well—it is the least that we can do to thank you for all of your help.” Jacob nodded but did not reply. He was too busy chewing his cake.
Anna wrinkled her nose. “I do not care about coffee and nails. But I will take the sugar and white flour!”
Greta’s stomach twisted. All of his help? How much time has Jacob been spending with her? She felt hot and flustered. The voices in the room became too loud. Each chuckle and giggle felt like a hammer on her temple. The room began to shift in front of her. It is too much. It is all too much. I have to get out of this room. She pushed her way out of the corner and hurried to the door. I must have fresh air. I simply must get away from here!
* * *
Jacob saw Greta’s face turn pale as frost on a windowpane. He watched her wobble and nearly fall as she hurried past the families eating cake and laughing. What ails her? His brow creased in concern as he set his trencher on the table and watched her fling open the cabin door. Has she taken ill? She may need help. Jacob started toward the door when Abraham slapped him on the back and startled him from his thoughts. “Good to see you enjoying yourself, Jacob. Mighty fine cake, ja?”
“What? Oh, ja.” Jacob’s eyes remained on the empty doorway.
“How is the winter wheat coming? Put in a good crop this year?”
Jacob ran his fingers through his hair. His heart beat harder as each second slipped past. “Yeah. Just, uh, just allow me a moment. I will be back.” He bolted for the door.
Catrina watched him push through the crowd with narrowed eyes. She reached for his arm as he rushed past her. “Oh, Jacob. Wait.” She flashed a dazzling smile. “I have been meaning to ask you—”
“Uh, another time. I need to step out for just a—”
“This will only take a moment.” She threw up her hands. “We just cannot figure out the best place to build the root cellar. Can you give us some advice? Grandmother thinks—”
“Another time.”
“Oh, but here is Grandmother now.” Catrina caught Frena Witmer by the sleeve as she wandered by. “Jacob knows exactly what to do about the root cellar, Grandmother.” She motioned toward Jacob. “Please, continue. We do welcome your advice.” Jacob glanced toward the door.
Frena beamed. “You have been a tremendous help, Jacob. And here you are, ready to give more advice. My husband thinks that we should build the root cellar into a hill that is too far from the house.” She shook her head. “I do not fancy long walks every time I need to fetch something from our food stores.”
“Ja.” Jacob forced his attention away from the doorway and to the old woman who depended on him for help. He knew that he had become too entangled in the conversation to escape now. He sighed and suggested the best location for the cool storage building. But as he spoke his thoughts stayed on the young woman who had slipped out the door.
* * *
Greta gulped big breaths of fresh air. The world stopped spinning as she stood alone in the silent clearing. She put a hand over her heart and felt the beat settle back to normal. I must have become overheated with all the people packed together like herring in a barrel and the fire burning in the hearth. But deep inside, she knew the truth. The thought of Jacob falling in love with Catrina had overwhelmed her with a wave of panic. She squeezed her eyes closed. “I must learn to go on without him. I cannot hope for his affection. It is over between us. No, in truth, it never even began!”
But as she said the words, she felt a cry from deep within that urged her not to give up. She shook her head. I will give him one chance. One last chance to show me that he cares. She closed her eyes and swallowed. If he comes after me, then I will know. He must have seen me take ill and stumble outside. If he cares, then he will follow to check on my health. She kept her eyes squeezed shut and counted. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. She took a deep breath, opened her eyes, and turned back toward the cabin. Her heart caught in her chest. She needed him to be there.
He wasn’t.
Greta walked away, into the quiet isolation of the forest. She felt as if she were the only person left in the world as she cut through the unending wilderness of the Pennsylvania backcountry. Pines and oaks stretched high above her and blocked out the low, late autumn sun. She pulled her cloak closer and shivered as she accepted that she was on her own.
* * *
Jacob managed to slip away from the Witmers and rush outside. The world felt strangely quiet after the chatter and movement inside the cramped cabin. He stood still in the silence for a long moment, watching his breath form clouds in the cold air. A rabbit bounded through the wild grasses that fought to overtake the clearing. But other than that, he found no sign of life beyond the gentle rasp of his own breath.
He was too late.
Jacob let out a long, slow sigh. It is just as well, I suppose. What was I thinking, trying to run after her like a fool? She holds no affection for me and does not want my help. I must respect her wishes.
Chapter Sixteen
Greta was strolling toward the creek, the yoke on her shoulders, when she saw Jacob heading toward her on the footpath. He raised a hand in greeting and she offered a reserved, but polite, nod. Do not make a fool of yourself. Remember that his eyes are on another. She felt a pang as he strode through the tangle of wild grass that sprouted across the cleared land. He is so handsome and sure of himself. She sighed and headed down to the riverbed.
“Greta!”
Greta turned back around, careful to keep her expression even. “Ja?”
Jacob held up a stout turkey and picked up his pace. Greta fidgeted with the bucket and wondered what to say as he cut the distance between them.
“For the Widow Yoder.” He cleared his throat and looked away. “And for you.”
Greta forced a polite expression. I am always an afterthought to him. “Ja. I am sure that she will be very pleased.”
“Good.”
They stared at each other for a moment as each waited for the other to break the awkward silence. Greta reached for the turkey. “Well, I will go ahead and take it to her.”
“Ja.”
Greta stalked away before her resolve faltered and she revealed her feelings for the handsome widower. She made sure to maintain a straight, regal posture to demonstrate her confidence and contentment. But her stomach churned and her mind urged her to go back. No! You have more self-respect than that, Greta Scholtz. Jacob has made his intentions clear. She looked at the sack in her hands. The fact that he cares so much for widows only makes it worse. He is a good man, even though he can be so distant and reserved. She thought about his aloof demeanor and the way it drove her away at first. She shook her head. I understand him so much better now. He had to let go of the pain of the past. She tightened her lips. And if he has, I suppose that he may find contentment with Catrina.
Greta wondered if Jacob watched her as she strode across the clearing. No. Do not be silly. Why would his eyes follow you when he has someone of real beauty to admire? Greta felt hot tears forming behind her eyes and she fought to push them back. If only we had had more time before she arrived. I had just started to get through to him. And now it is too late. . . .
Ruth beamed when Greta strode in with the turkey. Greta wiped her eyes and forced a smile.
“A gift for you from Jacob Miller.”
Ruth raised an eyebrow. “For me?”
“Ja. That is what he said.”
“Hmmm.” Ruth studied Greta’s demeanor.
“Did you invite him in for dinner? That would be a reasonable way of saying thank you.”
Greta grabbed the straw broom to keep her hands busy. “He did not want to come.”
Ruth frowned. She shrugged and lowered herself onto the three-legged stool by the hearth. “I worried about him for months, you know. Ever since he lost his wife and son.” She began to pluck the soft, dark feathers from the bird. “I really believed that you had broken through to him. I thought that you two were meant to be.” She glanced up at Greta.
“He said he did not want to come to dinner? He said those words?”
“Not exactly. He did not need to.”
“What did he say, exactly?”
Greta shrugged. “It does not matter. He has made his intentions clear. Or lack of intentions, I should say.” She swept the floor forcefully. “And I will not make a fool of myself by running after him like a lovesick puppy.”
“Is that your pride speaking?” Ruth raised an eyebrow. “I have warned you about that already.”
“It is my self-respect.”
“In a case like this there is a fine line between the two.”
“Ruth, I have seen him with Catrina. Any possibility for us is over. Please do not tempt my hopes. It hurts too much.”
Ruth frowned. She started to speak but closed her mouth again. She sighed and nodded. “All right. But can we at least enjoy some roast turkey?”
Greta laughed. “Now that is something that we can agree on.”
* * *
The days passed slowly as Greta brooded over Jacob and went through the motions of her daily tasks. The bright spot in each day was when her students arrived, eager to learn. One afternoon, Eliza took Greta’s hand and squeezed it. “I love your school, Greta.” Greta thought her heart would burst. She felt a lump form in her throat and looked away before the girl could see the moisture in her eyes.
Greta wiped her eyes and patted the little girl’s hand. “And I love teaching you.” I have a purpose in my life and people who care about me. I must accept that I do not need Jacob Miller.
“When I am around you, I do not feel so sad.”
Greta leaned closer. “Do you feel sad a lot?”
Eliza nodded. “I miss Mama and Papa.”
“Ja. How could you not?” Greta scooped Eliza into her arms and hugged her. “Do you want to know something?”
“What?”
“I miss my papa too.”
“What about your mother?”
“She died when I was young. I do not remember her.”
Eliza snuggled closer. Greta smoothed the child’s prayer kappe. “But, der Herr has given us other people to love, so that we can go on living and know that we are not alone.”