Trading Secrets by Melody Carlson Page B

stuck in a previous century. And they like it this way.
    As I go downstairs, I wonder if I could learn to like livinglike this too. I mean, once you get used to the deprivations and learn to appreciate the simple things and slow pace, it does have its charms. As I approach the kitchen, I’m aware that it’s too early for breakfast, but I’m hoping to make amends with Mrs. Miller by offering her my help.
    â€œI see you have decided to be a young woman today,” Zach’s mother says a bit curtly. She is stirring a bowl of batter as if her very life depends on it. Or perhaps it’s to release the frustration that’s come in the form of an unwelcome house guest.
    â€œKaty loaned me her clothes,” I say, as if she didn’t already know this.
    â€œ Ja . I saw that she left your dirty clothes to be washed.”
    â€œI can wash them myself,” I say quickly as I realize how my laundry will add to her workload. Anything to get on this woman’s good side—if she has one.
    â€œNo, no,” she says in a weary tone that reminds me of a martyr. “I will wash your clothes. And if God sends the sunshine, they will get dry.”
    â€œThank you,” I murmur. “Uh, is there anything I can do to help in here?”
    She gives me a look that’s something between curious and disdainful, then just shakes her head. “No, I have my Katy to help me.” She tips her head over to where Katy is busy at the sink. “Thank you.”
    Feeling dismissed, I tell them I’ll be out in the barn, checking on Molly and the new colt.
    â€œHe is a good-looking colt,” Katy says as I pass by her. “I just saw him.”
    I give her a slight nod as I make a quick exit, relieved to get out of the stuffy kitchen. As I walk to the barn, I wonder about gathering up my wet and sodden clothes, shoving them intomy pack, and walking back to town. I could launder Katy’s clothes back at the condo and send them back to her tomorrow. She probably wouldn’t even mind. Surely her mother would be relieved to be rid of me—and my dirty laundry.
    â€œWhat?” Zach, who has just come around from the back of the barn, looks at me in a perplexed way—frowning as if he’s staring at an alien. Maybe he is.
    â€œOh . . .” I glance down at Katy’s baggy dress, then shrug. “My clothes are all wet and dirty. Katy loaned me this.”
    His brow creases as he rubs his chin. I can tell he’s not saying what he’d like to say. Perhaps his manners won’t allow it. Really, do I look that silly?
    I daintily pinch the sides of the skirt, holding it out as if I’m about to curtsy. “What’s wrong? You don’t like this?”
    He just slowly shakes his head. “It’s not right for you, Micah.”
    â€œYou mean me, Micah the girl? Or me, Micah the pen pal who’s supposed to be a boy?” I realize this makes absolutely no sense, but somehow he seems to get it.
    â€œI mean you are an English girl, Micah. You don’t belong in Amish clothes.”
    For some reason this feels slightly insulting to me. Does he think I’m unworthy, not good enough to wear his sister’s clothes? Or perhaps he thinks I’m mocking him, which is ridiculous. But since I’ve barely begun to repair my broken bridges with him, I decide not to do anything to create an argument now. “How are Molly and the colt doing?”
    â€œThey seem all right. But I did take your uncle’s advice. I just called the veterinarian. Daed wasn’t too pleased about the expense, but I told him I’d cover the bill myself.” Zach’s mouth twists to one side, and I suspect he’s frustrated, perhaps over the money this will cost him.
    â€œOh.”
    â€œDr. Schneider should be here around 11:00,” he says abruptly, as if he has somewhere else he needs to be. Probably he does.
    â€œWell, that’s good.