Darcy’s relentless drumbeat convinced Evie to join her as a traveling nurse. She’d chosen for them to spend the summer in Alaska. One of the best perks for the long distance, she stressed, was that it would help Evie get over her ridiculous crush on Charlie King.
In the meantime, Evie happened to see the TV news story on Dok Stoltzfus, and she changed her mind. Not about the adventure-as-a-traveling-nurse part and not about the end-her-obsession-with-Charlie part, but the Alaska part. She applied to go to Stoney Ridge, to the Amish.
At that, Darcy seriously questioned Evie’s mental health.
Normally, Evie could be swayed by Darcy, but not this time. Somehow, she just knew she had to work for Dok Stoltzfus, in Stoney Ridge. Among the Amish. At least for three months. This, she tried to explain to Darcy, would help her build her self-confidence. Darcy shook her head, slow and low, in a way that suggested this was a terrible turn of events.
She might’ve been right. Because, as it turned out, living and working with Wren Baker caused Evie to slip right back in that mental whirlpool of inferiority.
Wren was everything Evie wasn’t—tall, willowy, polished, and not a hair out of place, even in summer’s humidity. She was memorable. Meanwhile, Evie was short, a little rounder than she wanted to be, definitely not polished, and had frizzy hair that refused to stay down,especiallyin summer’s humidity. She was forgettable.
Darcy had told Evie, again and again, that all this self-doubt was just in her head, that she was her own worst enemy. Maybe so, but that didn’t change how Evie felt. She wished she could silence the doubts that constantly hissed in her ear. Doubts about her nursing ability, doubts about her lovability. She wasn’t good enough. She wasn’tenough.
This afternoon, Evie stood at the kitchen sink, her gaze fixed on Charlie working in front of the buggy shop, tools spread out around him. Watching him, she could tell that he was thoroughly absorbed in his task.Soall in.She admired that quality about him. Everything he did, he did with his whole heart. Committed Charlie. She sighed, lost in her thoughts about him, when a sudden voice behind her broke through her reverie.
“Evie, you’re staring so hard I’m surprised you haven’t burned a hole through the window.”
Startled, Evie spun around. “Fern!” Where did she come from? How long had she been there? “I ... I was just ... admiring your, um, flowers.”
“It’s the only place shady enough on the farm for hydrangeas.”
Hydrangeas? Evie turned back to the window, squinting.Ohyes! Right.Big blue blossoms lined the buggy shop.
Fern joined Evie to peer out the window. “You know, if you’re thinking so much about him, chances are he’s thinking about you.”
“Who?” The burn of embarrassment crept into Evie’s cheeks. “Charlie? No, it’s not like that. We’re ... not like that. I mean, we’re just friends.”
“I had to be a little bold with my Amos.”
Amos? Fern’s late husband? “You’ve got it all wrong.” Evie’s face grew even warmer. “Charlie and Wren ... they’re, well, sort of together.”
Fern’s sparse eyebrows lifted skeptically. “Is that so?” she said, as if she knew everything there was to know. Which she kind of did.
She handed forks to Evie and left the kitchen, heading out the door.
Evie, flustered, set the forks on the table. Most embarrassing of all was that her feelings about Charlie were so obviousto Fern. She seemed to know what Evie was trying so hard not to show.
As she was finishing up, she heard the kitchen door swing open again. Fern came in with Charlie, who stopped to sniff the air, like a dog at dinnertime. “What is that heavenly smell?”
“Roast chicken and potatoes,” Fern said, making a beeline for an upper cupboard. “There it is, Charlie. I need that big platter.”
Charlie stepped forward and reached easily into the cupboard for the platter. “I think you or Evie could’ve reached it.”
Fern ignored that. “Say, why don’t you stay for supper and join us?”
“Really?” Charlie’s face lit up with genuine delight. “I’d love to! Honestly, my diet’s been a bit of a joke since I arrived. Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and cold cereal on the side. Macaroni and cheese on Sunday, as a treat.”
Evie’s eyes widened in surprise. “Peanut butter and jelly for every meal? I thought there was a kitchen in the buggy shop.”
He shrugged. “Yeah, but I don’t know how to cook. And I’m on a string-bean budget.”
“Still,” Evie said, “that’s quite a ... limited menu.”
“Standard fare for a medstudent.”He was practically salivating over Fern’s roast chicken as she lifted the pan out of the oven and set it near the platter.
Fern glanced toward the buggy shop. “Go fetch the other one to let her know supper’s almost ready.”
Charlie flicked a glance out the window. “That’s nice of you, but I’m 99 percent sure Wren would say no. She’s kind of a particular eater.”
