A Wedding for Julia by Vannetta Chapman Page A

wanting to go into detail about how he’d taken off work early and spent time cleaning up and changing clothes. He was beginning to feel like a seventeen-year-old on his rumspringa . “I hope you like them.”
    “Let’s put them in water.” Julia slipped a mason jar onto the table and placed the bouquet in it. They stood there in the last of the day’s light, a bundle of color against the approaching darkness.
    “Honor and majesty surround Him.” Ada’s voice was softer than the breeze coming through the window. “Strength and beauty fill His sanctuary.”
    Caleb glanced at Julia, uncertain how to respond, but she shook her head.
    “ Mamm . Let me help you to bed now.”
    “Is it so late already?”
    “ Ya .”
    “But the flowers—”
    “Will be here in the morning.”
    He offered to help. Ada was still fairly mobile, though, and she waved him away. Her mind might wander. She might use the Psalms as a sort of guidepost to help her find her direction, but her body seemed determined to continue plodding along each day. She stood, grasping her cane, and walked out of the room in front of Julia. When she reached the doorway of the kitchen, she turned and wagged a finger at him.
    “If you decide you want that hair cut, I believe I can still find my scissors.”
    Before he could respond, she’d crept on down the hall, explaining to Julia she wasn’t being rude by offering her services.
    Caleb was left running his fingers through his too long hair and staring at the jar full of wildflowers.

Chapter 11
    T en minutes later Caleb was sitting on the front porch in one of the rockers. Julia was perched on the other. A plate of still-warm oatmeal raisin cookies sat between them as well as a glass of cold milk for him and water for her.
    “Go ahead and eat them. It’s plain you want to.”
    “ Ya , but I’m trying to be polite and let you go first.” Caleb smiled, reached for a cookie, and popped the entire thing in his mouth. Closing his eyes, he allowed the flavors of sugar, oatmeal, nutmeg, and cinnamon to please his senses, reminding him of home and simpler times.
    “I’m going to assume by the look on your face that you approve?”
    “Oh, ya . I approve, Julia. You’re a wunderbaar gut cook. Where did you learn? From Ada?”
    “Some.” She drew the word out as she made circles on the arm of the rocker with her finger. “My mother cooked as well as most women, but I could tell from the time I was a teenager she didn’t much enjoy doing it. So it seemed natural for me to take over that chore. Baking was something that came natural to me. Soon I was trying my hand at casseroles and other types of dishes. I like old recipes, but I also enjoy experimenting.” She hesitated before adding, “It’s why I want to open a café. I know I’d be good at it, and I think it would provide us with some financial security. My father left enough money to provide for the two of us, but I still feel I should be contributing.”
    Caleb downed half of his glass of milk and devoured another cookie. “You’ve had this dream a long time.”
    “I have.”
    “And you’re worried that if you marry me, you won’t be able to pursue it.”
    She studied him for what seemed like a long time. As he waited for her answer, he could make out the sound of a chipmunk in the bushes near the porch.
    “Will I? If we were…” She stumbled over the next word. “If we were married, would I still be able to open the café?”
    Wiping his mouth with the napkin she’d provided, Caleb shot one last look at the plate of cookies. He would have liked to have eaten more, but he sensed they were down to the serious part of their evening. For all he knew, she would need to go in soon to be with Ada.
    “If it’s important to you and something that financially we could afford to do, then yes—I think we will be able to give it a try.” When she started to interrupt him, he held up his hand. “I like your idea, Julia. I liked it from the