woman, he would have done it long ago. Best of all, Ruby wasn’t blaming him. She seemed to think that it was her fault. And she didn’t appear to care whether he talked or not. She seemed to have no problem talking for them both.
Joseph glanced up and saw Sara, who had taken the seat Ruby had saved for her, looking at them. He wondered what she was thinking. Did she think he was slow-witted because Ruby was talking and he wasn’t? Some people who didn’t know him well thought he was slow. Even his mother agonized over his lack of knowing what to say when girls were nearby. “Speak up,” she always told him. When he was a boy, it was “Stand up straight, Joseph. Look people in the eye when they speak to you. Do you want the teacher to think you have an overripe cucumber for a brain?” And now that he was a man full grown, it was “God gave you a mind. Why can’t you show it when it matters most?”
Joseph became aware that Ruby had stopped speaking. He looked into her eyes and was rewarded with another compassionate smile. She was waiting for him to say something, but what? He tried to think. What had she been saying? He was so overwhelmed by her presence that he was at a total loss. And just when he thought the floor would open and swallow him up, Sara came to his rescue.
“Ruby comes to us from Lancaster County in Pennsylvania,” Sara said, handing Ruby her purse. “I’ve promised her parents that I’ll find her a match.”
“Who is it?” he blurted. Was it Levi King? Jason Bontrager? If she’d set her kapp for either of them, he wouldn’t have the chance of a pullet in a fox den. Levi could charm the birds from the trees. And Jason had a blacksmith’s shoulders and a father with more farms than he had sons.
“She’s not spoken for yet,” Sara said. “But I’m certain it won’t be long before we’ll all be invited to her wedding.”
Ruby blushed prettily.
Then Sara added icing to the cake by saying, “Our Joseph is looking for a bride. He’s a master mason, and is a credit to his mother and community.”
“Is your father living?” Ruby asked. “Ach, maybe I shouldn’t have asked that. I have a wonderful father.” Without taking a breath, she switched from smooth and perfect English to Deitsch. “He’s so good to me. And he loves to laugh. Everyone says I look like my mother but I’m most like my father. I hope that if I do find someone to wed, we won’t live far from my parents. I’m devoted to them.”
She paused and looked at him expectantly. What was he supposed to say?
“Joseph’s father died when he was very young,” Sara said. She reached into her bag and pulled out a Christian romance novel. “I hope the two of you won’t mind, but I’m dying to see what happens in my book.”
“Do you like to read?” Ruby asked Joseph as Sara settled in her chair.
He nodded. Instantly, his head began to throb again and it was all he could do not to reach up to touch the towel. But he didn’t want her to think he was a complainer or that he wasn’t tough.
“Don’t move,” Ruby cautioned, brushing her hand against his wet sleeve. “I don’t want you to start bleeding again. I feel so terrible that you were hurt. And I’m entirely to blame. I’m such a klutz. You may as well know it. I’ve always been a klutz.”
“I read,” he managed. “The Bible. And The Budget.”
“Your injury will probably be written up in The Budget. I hope no one mentions my name. It’s so embarrassing. And you’ll probably miss work. Will your boss be angry with you?”
“Ne. I...I’m sort of an independent contractor.”
“You are? That’s wonderful.” She clasped her hands together. They were nice hands. “What kind of masonry do you do? Bricklaying? Stonework? Cement?”
“Ya. All.”
“And you’re a master mason already? You must do fine work.”
“I try.”
She smiled at him. “Listen to me. When I’m nervous, I talk too much.” She chuckled. “Truth is, I always talk too much. Are you thirsty? Hungry? There are vending machines over there. The least I can do is to buy you a drink. Wait, I’ll go see what they have.” She got up, taking her purse with her, and threaded her way through the waiting people to the corner.
Sara glanced at him. The corners of her mouth were drawn up in a “cat that swallowed the cream” hint of a smile. “Ruby talks a lot, doesn’t she?”
“Not too much,” Joseph defended, watching Ruby. “Just the right amount, I think.”
Ruby returned. “They have Coke, orange, lemon-lime and root beer. Then there’s bottled water and iced tea in a can. What would you like?”
Joseph reached for his wallet.
“Ne,” Ruby said firmly, patting her purse. “This is my treat. I insist.”
“All right.” Feeling bold, he returned her smile and said, “Next time, I pay.”
“But what would you like?” she asked.
“Soda is good.”
“But what kind?”
He shrugged. “Anything wet.”
She giggled. “Ne, you have to tell me what you like best.”
“R-root beer,” he managed. “I like root beer.”
The smile spread across her face, making her even more beautiful. “Me too. I love it. My daddi says that I like it too well. It’s not good for my teeth. But I drink it anyway.”
Her teeth looked fine to him. White and even and sparkling.
“And now you get to choose a snack. Pretzels. Chips. Candy. Or peanut butter crackers.”
“Crackers,” he said. “I like...crackers.”
“Me too.” She laughed, looking down at him like he was the cleverest man she had ever met. “Isn’t that funny? We both like the same treats. Sara, I’m not forgetting you. What would you like?”
Sara glanced up from her book. “I’m fine. Too many treats and I’ll grow out of my clothes. You young people enjoy your snacks.”
“If you’re sure,” Ruby said, turning back to Joseph. “I’ll be right back with your soda and crackers.”
As she walked away, he noticed that she was wearing a green dress. He liked green. He smiled to himself as he watched her. His head hurt and he was still feeling a little dazed, but it didn’t matter because this was turning out to be the best day of his life.
Joseph pushed back his plate. He’d eaten only a few bites of potato salad and nibbled at a fried chicken leg. The truth was the back of his head where he’d gotten the stitches stung and he didn’t have much of an appetite. And he had more on his mind than eating.
“Joseph, you’ve barely put a thing in your mouth.” His mother’s delicate forehead wrinkled with concern. “I knew you should have stayed in bed this morning. Does your head hurt? Are you dizzy?” She fluttered her hands helplessly over her plate. For a small woman, Joseph was always amazed at how much his mother could eat and never gain an extra pound.
He forced a smile and took a sip of the glass of buttermilk next to his plate. Normally, he loved buttermilk, but today, it tasted flat on his tongue. “Now, don’t fuss. A few stitches. Nothing for you to worry yourself over.”
His mother rose, came around the table and pressed a cool palm to his forehead. “You feel a little warm to me. You might be running a fever.”
“Ne, no fever,” he protested. “It’s a hot day. Near ninety, I’d guess. And you’ve