by Jan Drexler
“I’m not sleepy.”
“It’s nighttime. You need to sleep.”
Mari yawned. “Will you read a story?”
As Bethany picked up the Bible storybook from the bedside table, Mari scooted over in her bed to make room for her. When she sat, leaning against the wall, Mari climbed into her lap.
“Which story do you want to hear?”
Mari opened the book on her lap, turning it until she found the picture she wanted. “The story about the lions.”
“You mean Daniel and the lions?”
Mari nodded, then pointed to the other man in the picture, looking into the lion’s den. “Who is that?”
“That is the king that put Daniel into the lion’s den.”
“He’s a bad man.”
“He was a man who didn’t know God. But Daniel knew God.”
As Bethany read the story, Mari leaned her head against her shoulder.
“That is a happy story,” Mari said when she finished.
“For sure it is. God saved Daniel from the hungry lions.”
“I like happy stories, not sad ones.” She sat up, turning to look into Bethany’s face. “I know a sad story. I was sick.”
Bethany nodded. “That is a sad story, but it has a happy ending, because you’re getting well now.”
“That’s good.”
Mari leaned against Bethany and was quiet for so long that Bethany thought she had gone to sleep.
“I know another sad story.”
“Do you want to tell me?”
Mari nodded. “My mamma is gone.”
“That is a very sad story.”
“What is the happy end?”
What could she say? Lily was gone, and she wasn’t coming back. Where was the happy ending?
Mari sat up again. “I know the happy end.”
“What is it?”
“God gave me a new mamma.”
“Mammi Rose?”
Mari grinned and shook her head.
“Dinah?”
Mari shook her head again. “You. My own Mamma Bethany.”
She leaned against Bethany. This time her breathing grew even, and Bethany was sure she was sleeping.
“I’m sorry I’m not your real mamma.” Bethany kissed the top of Mari’s head.
“You are my real mamma.” Mari sighed. “My new real mamma. God gave you to me.”
“Who told you that?”
“Daed did.”
Bethany hugged her, then sat on the edge of the bed, helping Mari snuggle under her sheet. She had to bite her lip to keep the tears from falling.
“Are you sad?” Mari asked, reaching to wipe away a tear that had escaped.
“Not sad. I’m happy. You told me the perfect happy ending to your sad story.” She leaned down to kiss Mari’s spotted forehead. “I love you, Mari.”
Mari yawned again, her eyes closing. “I love you, too, Mamma.”
“You go to sleep. I’ll stay right here, and you won’t be alone.”
Bethany sat on the chair and turned the lamp down until it was a faint glow. When she did, she thought she heard a soft noise in the hall, but she could see nothing in the dark. She stepped to Mari’s doorway to look, but everything was as it should be. Her bedroom door stood open and her window blinds moved in a slight breeze. That must have been what she had heard. Then she heard the soft sound of a door closing behind her. Had Andrew been in the hallway, listening to her conversation with Mari? She hoped so.
Sitting down again, she watched Mari sleep, smiling to herself. That little girl had given her the gift of her love, and Bethany’s chest ached with the realization of how precious that gift was. For sure, she thought she had loved Mari with her whole heart since the day she met her, but tonight her love had been returned.
Chapter Fifteen
More than a week after Mari became ill, she was feeling better and it was hard to keep her quiet and in bed. Bethany brought the armchair into the kitchen from the front room in the mornings so Mari could rest comfortably while Bethany and Rose worked. She had also taken Mari’s blankets out to the backyard in the afternoons so she could rest in the shade of the big tree by the lane, where Jenny’s doghouse stood. The days were long and tedious since Mari wanted to play and be active, but quickly grew tired.
The weather didn’t cooperate, either. After the brief respite after the storm the week before, the hot weather increased again until every day was sweltering, and each night was a sweaty, uncomfortable battle to sleep. Meanwhile, Rose and Bethany were working hard to can the garden’s produce. They needed to can as much as they could to survive the winter.
Today they were canning green beans, working in the kitchen while Mari sat in her chair, looking at the pictures in her book.
“From Martha’s last letter, it sounds like their gardens are doing better this year.”
Bethany snapped the end of a green bean and wiped the sweat from her forehead with her sleeve. “Have they gotten rain?”
“She said the community got together and drilled a new well, much deeper than any the farmers had dug. Folks can get water from there for their gardens and homes. She says it’s a blessing.”
Bethany couldn’t imagine the work involved in carrying water from a community well. She was thankful for her kitchen sink and pump. “What would they do if they hadn’t dug a deeper well?”
“What we did last year. We made do. I would use water for cooking, then let it cool and use that water for cleaning. Then I would water the plants with it. I tried to make every bucket serve for at least three jobs.”
“But you had a good well. Andrew said that some of them were going dry.”
Rose nodded. “My neighbor’s well gave out. They packed up and moved back east. To Ohio, I think they said. They couldn’t sell their farm, so they just left it.”
They worked in silence for a few minutes. Mari had fallen asleep, her book still open in her lap.
“Do you think Martha will want to move back here?” Bethany reached for another handful of beans.
“I’m afraid her mother wouldn’t be able to make the trip.”
“But we have water here, and plenty of food. Even if the garden isn’t doing as well as other years, we’ll still be able to fill the cellar for the winter. I hate to think of them working so hard.”
Rose snapped the remaining beans in her hand and took the last handful from the bowl. “Martha has talked about moving back here, but her mother is crippled and confined to her bed. She hasn’t even gone to church services for the last year. Martha is afraid the long train ride might be too much for her.”
While Rose examined the canning jars, making sure there were no cracks or chips in them, Bethany poured the green beans into a pot of boiling water. Steam rose around her face, making the hot kitchen even hotter. Bethany watched the clock. The beans needed to cook for five minutes, then they would pack the jars. They needed to work quickly so the jars would stay sterile.
Once the beans were in the jars, Bethany shut the stove dampers and they moved to the shady front porch. Bethany carried Mari, along with her blankets, and set her on the swing, while Rose sat on the old rocker. Bethany sat on the end of the swing next to Mari, moving it gently with her foot.
“I hope Daed and the boys are doing all right today.”
“Why?” Rose’s voice was sharp.
“It’s Thursday. You usually make dinner for them on Thursdays, don’t you?” Bethany pushed with her foot again. “You missed going over there on Monday, too. Did they do their own laundry?”
Rose shrugged. “It doesn’t matter to me. Your father is so stubborn, he could probably make the clothes come clean by just glaring at them.”
Bethany had to laugh. She had seen Daed’s glare often enough. “I think you’re right about that.”
&n
bsp; “It’s nice and cool out here now,” Rose said. “Do you think this afternoon will be as hot as yesterday?”
“I think so. It’s a hot summer for sure, isn’t it?”
“Where did Andrew go so early this morning?”
“He said he had some work to do for the doctor, to pay for his visit here.”
Rose was quiet, her head leaning on the back of the rocker. Bethany watched Mari sleep on the swing, then glanced at Rose. The older woman’s eyes were closed, too, and she was snoring quietly. Bethany propped her elbow on the end of the swing and leaned her head on her hand. All around her, insects buzzed in the grasses and in the trees. A slight breeze blew, making the shady porch pleasant, but Rose was right. It would soon be so hot they wouldn’t want to do any work. Today was the day to clean the upstairs, but Bethany was tempted to let it go this week. No one would notice, especially since they only went upstairs late at night after the rooms had a chance to cool down.
Just as Bethany decided that she must at least change the bedsheets and run the dust mop, Daed came up the lane from the road. When Bethany waved, he walked across the grass toward them.
“How is Mari this morning?” Daed kept his voice low when he saw her sleeping on the swing, but Rose opened her eyes.
“She’s doing much better,” Bethany said. “How are you? I haven’t seen you since Mari got sick.”
Daed put one foot on the porch step and ran his fingers through his beard. “I’d be much better if Aaron wasn’t cooking dinner today.”
“Aaron?” Bethany wrinkled her nose, remembering the smell of the scorched green beans the last time he had tried to cook.
“No one else volunteered, so we’re stuck with him.”
Bethany looked from Daed to Rose, and then back to Daed. Rose stared at the porch railing, ignoring Daed. He didn’t look at her, either, but went on talking.
“I know the boys have appreciated the meals Rose has fixed for them over the past few weeks. Did you know she makes a creamed chicken dish that we can’t get enough of? How many times have the boys asked for that one again?”
This time he looked at Rose, but she only crossed her arms.
“I know John has asked at least three times.”
“Humph. It was only twice.” Rose still didn’t look at him.
“And Nathaniel has already prepared the chicken. He even took the feathers off.”
Rose didn’t answer. Bethany wondered if she should take Mari into the house and let these two argue without her.
“And James picked the last of the peas and shelled them. Fresh buttered peas is one of his favorites.”
“At least he has a roof over his head. A place that is home.” Rose sniffed.
Daed shrugged, looking at Bethany. “All I said was that if she planned to stay here in Indiana, she should sell her place in Iowa.”
Rose glared at him. “You want me to sell the home where I raised my daughter and the farm my Lemuel loved.” She stalked into the house, letting the screen door slam behind her.
Mari rubbed her eyes. “Datti Jonah!”
Daed walked over to give Mari a kiss on the top of her curls. “How’s my pumpkin today?”
“My throat doesn’t hurt.”
“That is good.”
“But my spots are still here.” She bent her elbow and pointed to a few brown spots on her arm. “Will I always have spots?”
Daed shook his head, looking serious, but he winked at Bethany. “Not always. They will fade away and you’ll be our bright little pumpkin again.”
Mari lay back against her pillow. “Why is Mammi Rose angry?”
Daed glanced at Bethany. “She isn’t angry at you. She is unhappy with something I said.”
“You and Rose don’t get along very well, do you?” Bethany ran her fingers through Mari’s hair, trying to find some order in the curls.
“Not today.” Daed sighed. “She’s a headstrong woman.”
“Did she ask you about living in the Dawdi Haus? She might be happier if she had her own place.”
“She didn’t bring it up, but we can talk about it.”
Rose came back out to the porch with a pitcher of water and some glasses. Bethany helped her serve the water.
As Rose handed a glass to Daed, she said, “Talk about what?”
“The Dawdi Haus. No one is living in it, and it should be used. Bethany was asking why you don’t come live there.”
“I’m not giving up my home.”
“I’m not asking you to give it up. Just change it.”
Rose glared at him again and Bethany stood and picked up Mari.
“We’re going in. You two can argue all you want, but Mari and I are going to start fixing dinner.”
Neither Daed nor Rose said anything as Bethany went inside. She got Mari settled on the chair in the kitchen with her book, but the little girl didn’t open it. She laid her head down on her pillow, ready to finish her interrupted nap. As she drifted off, Bethany went out to the springhouse to fetch a dozen eggs and some butter and cream. Since the stove was already hot from the canning, she would build up the fire just enough to fix a custard to have with a light dinner of bread and butter. None of them felt like eating, as hot as it was, but they needed to have something nutritious.
Before she mixed up the custard, she thought of the glass of water she had left on the front porch. She had only taken one swallow before she’d brought in Mari, and now she went to get it rather than wasting the water. But as she approached the front screen door, she heard Daed and Rose talking. Before she realized she was eavesdropping, she heard them mention her name.
“What does Bethany have to do with it?” Daed asked.
“It isn’t only Bethany. She’s a sweet girl, but...”
“But you still don’t like her taking Lily’s place?”
Rose sniffed. “We’ve discussed this before. I can face the fact that my daughter is gone. I still think I’m the one who should raise Mari, and I want to do it in Iowa. That’s my home.”
“But I’m here, and so is Mari. Why are you so insistent on going back there?”
“I’m an independent woman, Jonah, and I have been for ten years. Why should I give that up?”
Bethany couldn’t tear herself away but stepped closer to the door.
“Don’t you get lonely sometimes?” Daed’s voice was soft, persuasive. “I know I do. God brought us together at this time to be together. To be a couple.”
Bethany covered her mouth. Daed was in love with Rose?
“We’ve talked about some tempting possibilities,” Rose said. “And if I were to marry again, you would be the one I chose.”
Daed chuckled. “We should do it soon, then. I’m tired of standing outside your window at night.”
“I didn’t say I would marry you. I have a particular way I like to do things. Since I’m not married, there is no one to tell me that I’m doing something the wrong way. No one to complain if I want to leave the lamp lit so I can quilt late at night or go outside to enjoy the night air. I don’t even have to worry if someone will dislike my cooking. I’m not sure I want to give up my freedom this late in life, and my home is waiting for me.”
“Your very quiet, very lonely home. You’ve told me how much you like being around the boys and how they make you feel useful.”
Rose didn’t answer. Bethany heard the creak of the porch swing as it received Daed’s weight.
“What is the real reason you won’t marry me?” he asked. “Is it because you don’t love me?”
The only sound Bethany heard was the chair’s rocker against the wooden porch floor.
Finally, Rose said, “I can’t answer that, Jonah. I do love you, but I can’t marry you. I don’t want to tie myself to any man again. I’ll be going home to Iowa as soon as I can.”
Bethany
heard the squeak of the rocker as Rose stood and hurried back to the kitchen, sorry that she had overheard that conversation. But at least now she knew who the night prowler was. All this time, Daed had been courting Rose.
* * *
Andrew was milking Dinah when Bethany came into the barn just before supper. He had spent the day at Dr. Hoover’s house taking out the rotted porch supports and propping up the roof with the beams the doctor supplied. It had been a long, hot day, and he was ready to rest for the remainder of the evening. All those plans disappeared when Bethany stood by Dinah’s shoulder, watching him.
“I found out who our prowler is.”
The smile on Bethany’s face made him grin.
“Who is it?”
“Daed.”
“Jonah?” Andrew stopped milking until Dinah shifted her feet, reminding him of the job at hand. “What has he been doing?”
“Courting Rose.”
He shook his head. “That can’t be. Rose doesn’t want to get married again.”
“That’s what she told him, but he still said he wanted to marry her.”
Andrew stripped the last of the milk from Dinah’s udder and picked up the pail.
“That explains why Jenny didn’t bark at him.”
Bethany followed him as he took the milk to the springhouse to cool until morning.
Setting the pail in the trough of flowing water, he asked, “How did you find this out?”
“I happened to hear them talking when they were on the front porch this morning.”
Andrew closed the springhouse door and faced her. “You were eavesdropping?”
“When I heard what they were talking about, I couldn’t help it.”
“When are they getting married?”
“They aren’t. Rose turned him down.” Bethany walked with him toward the house. “She said she wanted to go back to Iowa.”
“She can’t do that. She can’t support herself there.”
“She said your mother wrote that the community dug a new, deeper well that they’re all sharing.”
“But even then, how can anything grow there?” He opened the door for Bethany, then followed her into the house. “I’m putting my foot down. She can’t go back.”