Read Online The Rebel by Marta Perry - Free Book Online Page B

away when they’d been talking? She’d never thought of such a thing.
    â€œToo bad you had to rush off.” He touched her fingers where they rested on the countertop. “We were just getting to know each other. You couldn’t let the girl take care of herself?”
    â€œShe was only sixteen.” Startled, she gave him a look to see if he really was as flippant as he sounded.
    He shrugged. “Plenty of sixteen-year-old girls can take care of themselves.”
    â€œShe couldn’t.” She was irrationally disappointed in him.
    â€œHey, don’t be mad. I’m a great believer in letting people do what they want, that’s all. If you felt like you had to interfere, that’s okay by me. I hope that doesn’t mean you won’t be around in the future, though. We need to finish our conversation.”
    She found herself nodding, responding to the twinkle in his eyes. Maybe there was a lot to be said for being easygoing. At least he wasn’t as stiff-necked as Benuel.
    She caught a sidelong glimpse of Mr. Tyler, moving by thepass-through on the kitchen side. If he glanced this way, he’d think she was wasting time.
    â€œWould you like something?” she asked quickly. “Coffee?”
    Terry nodded. “Black, two sugars. And a cruller.”
    â€œYou have a sweet tooth,” she teased.
    â€œGoes with my sweet personality,” he said.
    With a ripple of laughter, she went to get his order. She’d just set the coffee and cruller in front of him when she spotted Ashlee slip in the side door.
    â€œAshlee. Thank goodness you’re here. Are you okay?”
    â€œFine.” The word came out as a snarl. Ashlee yanked off her sunglasses and blinked as if the light hurt her eyes. She was pale, her lipstick put on crooked, and she stared blearily at Barbie. “Did you cover for me?”
    â€œWe tried, but it didn’t work.” She glanced toward the kitchen. “He wants to see you.”
    â€œSounds like you didn’t try very hard,” Ashlee snapped. She marched off to the kitchen.
    Barbie blinked. What did Ashlee expect? The small café wasn’t crowded today, and all Mr. Tyler had to do was glance out of the kitchen to see that she was missing.
    â€œI wouldn’t take anything she says seriously. She’s hungover.” Terry sent a doubtful look her way. “That means—”
    â€œI know what it means,” she interrupted. “Just because I’m Amish, I didn’t grow up under a rock. I saw my brothers in that condition a time or two during their rumspringa.”
    Terry nodded as if the word meant something to him. “Time to run wild, right? At least for the guys.”
    Barbie shook her head, wondering if it was worth it to try to correct the common myth. “It’s not that at all. Rumspringais a time when Amish teens have freedom to mingle with others their age, to start figuring out who you’re going to marry. Some kids do get carried away, and there’s a certain amount of drinking.”
    Her own teen years had been happy but uneventful, but there were always stories of Amish kids who took a wilder track. She glanced toward the kitchen, wondering how Ashlee was doing.
    â€œI wouldn’t worry about Ashlee,” Terry said, correctly interpreting her look. “She always lands on her feet.”
    â€œI hope so.” Ashlee liked to have fun. There was nothing wrong with that, but she’d hate to lose her job.
    But when Ashlee came out a few minutes later, she was putting on her apron. Apparently she’d smoothed things over with Mr. Tyler, one way or another. She paused by Barbie.
    â€œHey, I’m sorry. That was my headache talking earlier.”
    â€œNo problem.” She echoed the words she’d heard Ashlee use often. “Maybe some coffee would help.”
    Ashlee nodded carefully, as if her head might slip off. She headed for the