Courting Cate by Leslie Gould Page A

going, not at all. “Can I let you know tomorrow?”
    “Sure,” he said.
    As he walked down the back steps, Levi’s buggy turned the corner. Pete kept on going, into the dark night, toward the showroom.
    By the time I was back inside, pulling the door closed behind me, Betsy was bounding up the stairs and then throwing the door wide open.
    She burst through. “Why’d you let him leave already?” Her Kapp was askew and her face was red.
    “He wanted to get some work done,” I answered, starting the hot water for the glasses.
    “I was hoping we could all visit.”
    “I’m going to bed after I finish these dishes. Dat poured lemonade for you and Levi.” I gestured toward the table, but Betsy wasn’t interested.
    “So did you have a good time?” Betsy’s eyes shone brightly as she turned her attention back to me.
    “Jah,” I answered.
    “And you two are courting? Right?”
    I frowned. “He asked me to go kayaking on Saturday, so . . . maybe.” If he got over his little fit.
    Betsy gave me a quick hug and then rushed out the back door to find Levi. After I finished washing the glasses, I told Dat good night.
    “Pete’s a hard worker, jah? Wanting to get a head start on tomorrow. That’s admirable.”
    I nodded.
    “He’s a good man, Cate.” Dat stood. “I’m sure he’s the one.”
    “Ach, don’t say that.” I stepped away. “You can’t know.”
    “We’ll see,” he answered, a smile spreading across his face.
    My feet landed heavily on the stairs on my way to bed, still disturbed at the way Pete had reacted and then by his escape down to the showroom to work. I hadn’t expected him to be so thin-skinned.

    I continued to mull over Pete’s behavior the next morning, but I didn’t seek him out to see how he was. Dat had gone into Lancaster for a business meeting, leaving Pete alone on the showroom floor. Several contractors stopped in during the morning, mostly doing remodels, which he seemed to handle just fine. Unlike me, he was gifted at small talk. He also wasn’t afraid to offer his ideas, whether it saved the customer money or cost a little more.
    Just before noon he knocked on my office door, opening it quickly. “Can you help me out?”
    I tucked my pencil behind my ear, pushed the spreadsheet to the center of my desk, and followed him into the showroom.
    An Englisch woman, probably in her midthirties, was leaned over the counter, scanning a catalog. She wore a tight pair of jeans and a skimpy shirt.
    “This is Cate,” Pete said. “She knows a whole lot more about this than I do.”
    “What can I help you with?” I stepped to the other side of the counter.
    “Oh.” She looked from me to Pete and then stood up straight, pulling her handbag to her side.
    “I’ll be back in a minute,” Pete said, striding out the back door. I watched him until, to my surprise, he turned and smiled at me. Then he pulled the door shut.
    The woman cleared her throat, and I turned my attentionto her, feeling a little flustered. “I wondered if these came with a pullout pantry,” she said, flipping the catalog pages to the maple cabinets.
    They all did. Pete knew that. I turned the binder around. “Yes, they do. We can customize these shelves to your exact specifications as far as the widths and heights of the shelves, how many you want, how deep you want them, and what type.”
    She leaned a little closer, but not as far as she had been.
    “We have several pullouts in our kitchen,” I said.
    “You live here?”
    “Jah,” I answered.
    She smiled a little. “So you and Pete are married.”
    “Oh, no.” My face grew warm.
    She smiled more. “Oh, I see. Well, then, you look at him like you’d like to be. And he’s obviously fond of you.”
    I blushed and glanced toward the closed door, hoping Pete wasn’t on the other side, listening to our conversation.
    She shrugged. “I thought maybe you and he were the owners.”
    I shook my head.
    “Cute guy.”
    My face grew even warmer. I