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“If I sit in the house one more day, I might go crazy. One can only read so much or do so many crossword puzzles.”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Only that I work every day from sunrise until dark.”
“Life of a farmer, I guess.”
“Amish women work hard, too. At least most of them do.”
“Kind of hard to find a job if you can’t remember anything more than your first name.”
Caleb shrugged. Rachel could find work if she wanted it. They both knew it. Instead of defending herself further, she changed the subject.
“Have you named them?”
“Nein. We don’t name our cows.”
“I don’t see any cows.”
“We only have three—all dairy cows. They’re in the east pasture.”
“Oh. I guess I haven’t been in that direction yet.” She reached out her hand and one of the alpacas moseyed over to sniff at her palm.
“I’d call you Mocha.”
The alpaca stood completely still and allowed her to rub its top notch of hair.
“How’d you do that? They won’t let me within five feet of them.”
When the male alpaca began to crunch on something, one of the females bounded over to join him. Soon he could barely see Rachel because the entire herd of alpacas had congregated near the fence. Caleb walked over to see what she was giving him.
“Apple slices?”
“Ya. Your mamm is making an apple pie, but she didn’t want to include the skins. It seems like I always did when I baked a pie...” She shook her head back and forth, as if she could rattle the memory free.
Caleb scratched at his jaw. “I didn’t think of giving them scraps.”
“Makes sense, though. Most animals enjoy apple slices. We had a dog once that loved them.”
Her head jerked up and she met Caleb’s gaze, surprise coloring her features.
“You’re remembering more every day.”
“Small inconsequential things. It’s frustrating.”
“Not to my alpacas.”
She smiled at that, and Caleb felt inexplicably better. He didn’t pretend to understand Rachel, but he somehow thought of himself as responsible for her. Perhaps that was normal considering he’d found her in the snow only a few days before.
“Did you get a good deal on the animals?”
“I think so. Less than three thousand dollars for all seven, and there are two females.”
“Hopefully you’ll have baby alpacas running around by spring.”
“That’s the plan.”
“Do you expect they’ll be much work?”
“Not according to Mr. Vann. They mainly eat hay and grass, though some mineral supplements are good, too.”
“So you won’t be spending much money to maintain them.”
“Nein. Also, they don’t bite or butt or spit. I tried raising a llama once, but that didn’t go so well.”
Rachel crossed her arms on the fence and rested her head on top of them, watching the group of alpacas dart away and then flop and roll in a patch of dirt. He’d seen them do that before, but watching Rachel watching them, seeing the smile grow on her face, he realized for the first time what funny animals they were.
“They’re herd animals, so it’s a good thing I was able to buy seven.”
“I think you made a good business decision, Caleb. You’ll know for sure once you shear them, but my guess is that you’ll make a nice return on your investment.”
“Mr. Vann said to watch the top notch. If the hair grows to cover their eyes, I’m supposed to have it cut, which will mean learning to do it myself because I’m not about to pay someone else to do it.”
Rachel covered her mouth to hide a giggle, which Caleb heard nonetheless.
“What’s so funny?”
“Explain that to me,” she said.
“Explain what?”
“You’re so old-fashioned about other things.” She held up a hand when he began to protest. “You admitted it yourself, the first night I was here. The night that you told me about your last girlfriend.”
“She wasn’t right about everything.”
“But you said...what was it? ‘My normal personality is bullheaded and old-fashioned.’”
“Ya. I suppose it’s true.”
“Not exactly unusual among the Amish.”
“Oh, you remember that, do you?”
“So why are you such a risk taker as far as animals?”
“Crops, too,” he admitted. He’d been watching the animals, but now he turned to study Rachel. “I’ll answer your question, but first tell me why you want to know.”
“Curious, I guess. Sort of like your alpacas.”
The horses were grazing in the adjacent pasture. The gelding had wandered close to the fence separating it from the alpacas. The horse was focused on the winter grass, but one of the tan alpacas had zeroed in on the horse. It stuck its nose through the fence, then jumped back, jumped almost vertically. Which caused the other alpacas to trot over, and then they were all gawking at the horse and making a high-pitched noise that sounded like a cat with its tail caught in a door.
“So you’re not asking merely to give me grief?”
“Not at all.” With her fingers, she crossed her heart. “Promise.”
He leaned against the fence, studying the animals but thinking of the woman standing beside him. Rachel was a jumbled mix of paradoxes. One moment she seemed vulnerable, the next fiercely independent, and then sometimes she was quietly curious.
Glancing at her, he realized—not for the first time—what a beautiful woman she was. Probably back in her own community she had a boyfriend who was wondering what had happened to her. The thought made him uncomfortable, as if they should be doing more to return her to her home. But what could they do?
Nothing, so far as he knew, so instead he settled for being honest and answering her question.
“I like the Plain life. I’ve seen my fair share of folks leave our faith—about half of them came back, tails tucked between their legs. The other half? They either never visit their family at all—”
“Is it allowed?”
“Oh, ya. Our bishop encourages families to support one another, even when a member chooses a different path.”
Rachel nodded, as if that made sense.
“These people I’m thinking of, they have a standing invitation to come home and see their loved ones.”
“But they don’t?”
“Most don’t. The ones that do, they seem put out that they have to leave their cell phone in the car.”
“Are you speaking from personal experience?”
“You’re asking if anyone in my family has gone over to the Englisch side?” Caleb ran his hand along the top rail of the metal fence—it was smooth and cold to the touch. “Two cousins, on my mother’s side.”
“So that makes you conservative...as far as people are concerned.”
“I think being Plain means we stand for something. We stand for a different lifestyle. Once we start making compromises, there’s no difference between us and the Englisch—in that case, who wouldn’t leave?”
Rachel was shaking her head, her bonnet strings swaying back and forth, but she smiled and said, “All right. I’ve never heard it expressed that way before, but—”
“You might have. Maybe you don’t remember.”
“Good point. So you’re conservative because you think it’s good for families and believers.”
“Right.”
“But the farming? And animals?”
“In business you want to be conservative—for sure and certain you do.”
“But?”
“It’s exciting to try something new. Ya? Look at those animals. They seem like giant poodles to me. Who figured out that their wool would be a good crop?”
“Caleb, you surprise me.”
“Ya?” He reached forward and brushed some grass off her coat sleeve, no doubt left by one of his alpacas that had been nosing closer for apple peels. “Is that gut or bad?”
“Both. The alpacas will be entertaining.”
They’d returned to flopping down in the dirt.
“Your herd looks like they will produce a variety of coffee colors.”
“Coffee, huh?”
“Something Englischers love—lots of browns and tans and mochas and cappuccinos. Maybe even a cinnamon hue on that far one.”
“Cappuccino?” He could feel the frown forming on his lips. No doubt she loved visiting a coffee shop and wasting her money.
“Plus their fiber is hypoallergenic, which is what makes it very popular.”
“Funny that you know that.”
She simply shrugged.
“I know nothing about shearing, but I can learn.”
“Do you have a local library?”
“Sure.”
“You can search how to do that on their computers.”
He felt something freeze inside of him. This happened every time he began to feel comfortable with Rachel. She said or did something that reminded him she didn’t belong here and probably wouldn’t be staying. He stepped away from the fence, so now they were facing each other, though Rachel was a good head shorter than he was.
“We don’t use the computers.”
“Why?” She cocked her head and looked genuinely puzzled.
“Because we choose not to. We’re Plain...” He couldn’t help emphasizing the last word, though he realized it sounded patronizing.
“Uh-huh. Well, I can tell you’re getting aggravated, so I suppose I should go back inside.”
“We just talked about what it means to be Plain, and then you throw out a comment about using computers.”
“There’s nothing wrong with a computer, Caleb.” She stepped closer, right up into his personal space, and stared up at him.
He took a step back.
“Computers aren’t evil.”
