Playing in the outfield first, Peter saw the women emerge from the house and make themselves comfortable on the Lapps’ covered front porch. Annie pushed Meg close to the rail, then took the chair next to her. Noah’s wife, Rachel, along with Martha and Agnes, joined them, each settling in a rocking chair. Meg remained in her wheelchair with a blanket across her lap.
Peter noted that Agnes sat on the opposite side of the porch from them. She smiled and waved, and he nodded before he returned his attention to the game in time to catch a fly ball hit by Isaac. Jedidiah and his teammates cheered, as did Agnes and Annie.
The game continued. Jedidiah’s team exchanged places with Peter, who went up to bat. As he waited for his turn at the plate, Peter glanced toward the porch and captured Meg’s gaze. She stared at him without once looking away. His heart beat wildly as he refocused his attention on the game.
“Peter!” Jedidiah called from first base, where he’d landed safely. “You’re up!”
He nodded, picked up the bat and slammed the ball across the yard, sending Jedidiah to second base and Jacob to third, before they both continued all the way home.
Katie Lapp stepped outside with her granddaughter Susanna on her hip and her grandson EJ standing next to her. “Food is ready!”
The game ended with a difference of opinion on which team had won, since the score was even, but Jedidiah’s team didn’t get to finish the inning. The men climbed the porch steps as the women turned to head inside. Martha and Elijah went in together. Agnes chatted with her sister Alice, who stood in the entryway and held the door open until Jedidiah grabbed hold of it. Everyone had entered the house except for Jacob, Annie, Meg and Peter.
“Peter,” Annie said. “Will you push Meg’s chair inside?”
“Ja.” He and Meg gazed at each other. Her eyes widened slightly and her skin flushed red as he turned her chair toward the door.
“You don’t have to help me,” she said. “I can stand.”
“Like you did when you arrived earlier?” he asked as he tipped up the front wheels of the chair and lifted it over the threshold. “Does it bother you to have me help you? You just got out of the hospital, Meg,” he said, his voice gruff. “You shouldn’t take chances.”
* * *
Meg stiffened. It felt as if he was poking fun at her near fall earlier. “I don’t need your help or a scolding, Peter Zook.”
“Meg, I didn’t mean—”
When they were inside the entryway, he came around the wheelchair to face her. She was offended by what he’d said. And she thought they could start over and work together on the party?
“Danki, Peter. I can manage from here,” she said in a tight, dismissive voice. She grabbed hold of her chair’s wheels and rolled forward, nearly hitting Peter, who instinctively jumped out of the way. He stared at her, and she flushed with guilt.
“Meg.”
She stopped and waited for him to reach her.
Peter sighed. “Are you this difficult with everyone?” he asked. “Or just me?”
Meg refused to answer him. She alternately fumed and fought embarrassment as she wheeled herself into her aunt Katie’s kitchen. She was aware that Peter Zook followed closely behind her. She bit her lip to keep herself from telling him to leave her alone. Perhaps she was overreacting. In fact, she probably was, but she was tired, in pain, and wanted nothing more than to go home.
As she rolled her chair into the bright kitchen, where food filled the table and countertops, she felt confused and ill. She shouldn’t have come. She should have insisted that her family attend without her. It was too soon after her hospital stay for her to be out and about. She could have been napping or gazing silently out the window at home. Instead, she was aware of Peter behind her, a man who didn’t like her. But he’d been thoughtful despite how he felt about her, she realized. Sometimes it seemed as if he could read her mind and gauge exactly how she was feeling.
She sighed. And she’d been rude to him. Again. She’d promised to be a better person. Please, Lord, help me to be thoughtful and kind to everyone, especially to Peter Zook.
“Meg.” Her mother approached. “I’ll fix you a plate.”
“Danki, but nay. I can manage.” She was determined to prove that she was fine. As soon as everyone left the room and couldn’t watch her, she’d stand up and get some food. Her head and bruises hurt, and her leg throbbed. She looked around but saw no sign of her father or any of the older men. “Where’s Dat?”
“In the barn,” Mae King said. “Most everyone has moved out there.”
Meg glanced at the older woman, who was a close friend and neighbor of her aunt’s. “They’ve set up tables?”
“Ja,” Mam said. “Samuel brought in a heater to take away the chill.” She settled her gaze on someone behind Meg and smiled. “Peter, here’s a plate.”
“Danki, Missy,” he said as he accepted it.
Meg rolled her chair into the corner, out of the way. Refusing to watch Peter while he selected food, she stared at her lap. The quilt that her cousin had gotten for her was done in pretty shades of green and yellow. She was glad it hid her heavy cast. Every time she saw it, she felt helpless and a little afraid.
“Peter.” Agnes entered the room and swept past her. Meg watched as the young woman took his plate, then proceeded to fill it for him, with selections from every available cold meat platter, salad and dessert. “Do you want iced tea?”
Meg stared as Peter bent and murmured something in Agnes’s ear. She heard her chuckle before Agnes turned toward Meg’s aunt with an amused expression.
“Katie,” she heard Agnes say, “got any Pepsi?”
“In the back room. Help yourself.”
Meg watched as Agnes left. She couldn’t keep her gaze from Peter, who had moved into her focus. He stared back, his dark gray eyes unreadable, and she quickly glanced away.
Agnes returned with the glass of cola. “Here you go.”
“Missy,” Mae King called, “come see what Katie has done to the quilt we’ve been making.”
Her mother slipped from the room. Meg watched Peter and Agnes. The two were smiling, sometimes laughing, clearly enjoying each other’s company. Meg blinked back tears. She didn’t know why she had the sudden urge to cry. She realized that it had been a long time since she’d felt that free and joyful.
“Meg?”
Startled, she glanced up into Agnes’s face. “Hallo, Agnes.”
“How are you feeling?”
“Sore, but I’ll live.”
“I’m sorry you were hurt.”
Agnes’s sharp perusal made her squirm. She didn’t want or need the girl’s pity. “I’m fine.” Meg glanced at Peter, who waited patiently next to Agnes. He eyed Meg intensely, as if he was debating whether or not to say something to her. She looked away.
“Do you need anything?” Agnes asked.
Meg managed a smile. “Danki, but nay. I appreciate the offer, though.”
Her cousin Isaac opened the door and peeked into the room. “Peter, Agnes, are you coming out to the barn?”
“We’ll be there soon,” Agnes said airily. “Have everything you need, Peter?”
“Ja, danki,” he told her warmly.
Agnes gave Meg a sympathetic look. “Take