by Ruth Reid
“Jah,” Caleb said. The man wasn’t from their district. The rim of his hat was wider.
He sent the driver on his way, then held out his hand to Caleb. “I’m Ephraim King from Cedar Ridge.”
He was the one who wrote Jonica the letter, the one who wanted to marry her. Caleb’s stomach soured.
The man looked more than twice Jonica’s age. “I’ve actually kumm to see Jonica, nett Edna.”
Of course he had.
“It’s a surprise.” The out-of-towner must have spotted Stephen peering around Caleb’s leg, because the man sidestepped and leaned down. “Hiya, Stephen. Is your mamm around?”
Stephen shrugged.
“The bu doesn’t talk much, does he?” Ephraim’s gaze skimmed the area. “Are you the one who’s going to buy the farm?”
Caleb shook his head. “I’m Caleb Schulmann, a . . . friend of the family. I believe Jonica is inside.” He headed to his buggy, his heart aching. He’d been too late. As Caleb climbed onto the bench, he took one last look at the house.
Jonica was standing at the door, welcoming her future husband inside.
* * *
Jonica’s jaw dropped. “Ephraim, what are you doing here in Posen?”
“I kumm to see you.” He removed his hat and held it in his hand.
“What a . . . surprise.”
“I hope it’s a nice surprise.”
“Jah, I just can’t believe—Here I am blabbering and you’ve had a long journey. Would you like a cup of kaffi?”
“Jah, please.”
She led him into the kitchen. The mugs clanged together as she nervously removed two from the cabinet. “How are the kinner?”
“Busy in schul. The youngest, Tommy, has had a kalt.”
“He’s doing better nau though, right?”
“Jah, he is.” He cleared his throat. “But that’s one of the reasons why I’m here. Did you get mei letter?”
Jonica froze. Was he really here to pressure her into marriage? It wasn’t a decision she could make lightly. She didn’t know him that well. “I received it, but I haven’t had time to reply.”
“You know winter is coming upon us. We already have several inches up north, and they’re predicting more by Thanksgiving.”
“Jah, you mentioned you were winterizing your house.” She poured the coffee, then realized she didn’t even know how he liked it. With cream, without? With sugar? With cream and sugar?
Lord, help me. Stephen’s been praying about a daed. I don’t want to deny him a gut upbringing.
“Jonica?”
Aenti Edna’s voice interrupted her silent plea for help. “Did you want another cup of kaffi, Aenti?”
Her aunt handed Jonica an empty mug. “Only half, please.” She eyed Ephraim. “Do I know you?”
“This is Ephraim King, mei . . . friend from Cedar Ridge.” She avoided making eye contact with Ephraim. “This is mei aenti Edna.”
“You can call me Edna. Are you from around here?”
“Nay.” He lifted his brows, obviously puzzled, “I’m from Cedar Ridge.”
Jonica handed him a coffee mug. “Aenti has some issues with her memory.”
Aenti nodded. “I tend to forget things and repeat a lot of questions.”
Jonica fixed Aenti’s kaffi, then took it over to the table. “Would either of you like a piece of pumpkin pie?”
“Sounds gut to me,” he said.
Jonica placed the piece she’d been saving for Caleb on the plate, then removed a fork from the drawer.
“I heard you were selling your place, Edna.” Ephraim glanced at Jonica as she took the chair next to her aunt. “That’s the other reason I’ve kumm. I think I can help you figure out the paperwork, so it isn’t delayed any longer.”
Jonica forced a smile. “That’s—”
“Nett needed,” Aenti said. “We’ve decided nett to sell.”
Ephraim shifted on his chair to face Jonica. “Then you’re free to kumm back with me to Cedar Ridge?”
“Is your kaffi too strong?” Edna pushed up from the table. “Mine could use a splash of water.”
“Let me help you with that.” Jonica took Aenti’s mug over to the sink. Her aunt liked strong coffee, but Jonica was grateful for the distraction.
“I don’t see Stephen anywhere.” Aenti craned her neck in front of the window.
“He was outside a few minutes ago,” Ephraim said.
“I’d better call him inside.” Jonica returned the coffeepot to the stove. “I don’t want him to stay out too long and catch a kalt.”
“It isn’t going to hurt him to stay outside. Kinner should—”
Be seen and nett heard. She’d heard him say that about his own children. “I’ll be right back.” Jonica went to the door and called, but Stephen didn’t reply. She was shoving her foot into her boot when Ephraim came out of the kitchen.
“He’s nett answering?”
“Nay, I have to find him.”
“Buwe explore. He’ll kumm back when he’s hungahrich.”
“He’s nett supposed to leave the yard.” Her voice cracked. “He could be hurt.” She fled the house, unwilling to waste another moment.
“Lord, where is mei sohn?”
Chapter 30
“I messed up, God.” Caleb signaled Nutmeg to turn onto the paved road. “I lost mei chance to tell her how I feel—tell her I love her. She’s going to marry that man, isn’t she?”
The still, small voice told him to turn around, but he couldn’t. “I love her, God. But if it’s Your will . . .” He ground the last part under his breath. “I’ll let her geh.” Then he silenced himself the remainder of the ride home.
He unhitched Nutmeg from the buggy and walked her into the barn. On most nights he brushed the mare as she ate, but tonight his leg was throbbing. He hadn’t followed the doctor’s instructions to stay off of it and he was paying the price now.
Caleb tossed a can full of oats in the feed trough. She had plenty of water. The barn door creaked open. “Caleb?” a small voice said. “I’m kalt.”
“Stephen, what are you—? How did you get here?”
The boy hung his head. “I climbed into your buggy when you were talking to that man.”
“Your mother is probably worried sick.”
Stephen’s lips trembled. “Are you going to marry mei mamm?”
“It’s nett that easy.”
“You said you love her. I heard you talking in the buggy.”
Daed came down the wooden ladder from the hayloft. “I thought I heard voices.” He eyed Stephen, then lifted his gaze to Caleb.
“This is Stephen.” Your grandson.
“Hiya.” Stephen waved at Daed. “Is this your barn?”
“It is.”
The boy’s eyes widened as he looked around. “I’ve never seen a barn this big.” He headed for Peter’s roping horse’s stall. “What’s his name?”
“This one is Jet,” Daed said. “He’s a little high-strung sometimes. Kumm on, I’ll show you the calves. They’re a little more your size.”
Stephen slipped his hand into his grandfather’s, who startled at first, then chuckled quietly.
Caleb smiled. Stephen had a way of softening everyone’s heart. Exactly what his father needed.
While the two of them inspected the calves, Caleb led Nutmeg out of the stall and outside. Jonica would be in full panic mode and rightfully so.
The barn door slammed. “Caleb,” Stephen called as he ran toward him.
Caleb grabbed him before he got too close to Nutmeg, and picked him up. “You can’t run up on a horse. Especially Nutmeg. She’s skittish.”
“What’s skittish?”
“She gets frightened easily.”
“Sorry,” Stephen said. “I saw the boppli cows.”
His father ambled toward them. “He’s already naming them.”
The screen door opened and Mamm stepped out on the porch, a dishrag in her hand. “It’s time for sup—per.”
�
�Hello again.” Stephen waved.
Mamm shot up a quick wave, then squared her shoulders as if correcting her moment of weakness. “Will you be having guests for supper?”
“Please, Caleb?” Stephen rubbed his tummy. “I’m hungahrich.”
“Your mamm is going to be so upset.” He carried Stephen to the house. “Can I get a small plate for him to eat in the buggy? I really need to get him back home.”
His mother looked the boy over, then motioned them into the house. “Have you been sitting with the boppli all day?”
“I’m nett a boppli. I’m five.” Stephen pulled off one of his mittens to show all five of his fingers.
“I stand corrected,” she said. “You are certainly nett a boppli.” She removed a small container from the bottom cabinet. “Darleen was here earlier.” She added a spoonful of mashed potatoes on one side of the dish.
“Can we talk about that later?” This wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have around Stephen.
“I just thought you might be interested.” Mamm topped the potatoes with hamburger gravy. She peered down at Stephen. “Do you like green beans?”
He nodded. “Can I have a lot?”
His mother frowned. “Doesn’t your mamm feed you?”
“Mamm says I’m a growing bu.” Stephen attempted to stand taller by straightening his back, stretching his neck, and jutting his chin. The spitting image of Peter. Why hadn’t he seen it earlier?
His mother smiled. “So I see.”
Daed entered the house. “I finished hitching your buggy. They’ll have a search party out if you don’t get him home soon.”
“Jah, you’re right.” Caleb gathered Stephen in his arms.
Mamm went to hand Caleb the container and sucked in a noticeable breath. Her gaze darted from Caleb to Stephen, to Caleb again, then back to Stephen. Was she seeing Peter in the boy’s features?
“Is something wrong, Deborah?” Daed asked.
“Nay,” she said, then composed herself. “Your daed is right. If you don’t get him back, Jonica will have a search party out looking for the child.”
“How did you know Stephen is Jonica’s sohn?”
“She came to visit mei mamm,” Stephen said.
“I invited her and Edna to the sewing frolic. Neither of them attended, so I’m nett sure why I bothered.” She removed a spoon and fork from the drawer. “Please make sure mei silverware is returned.”
“Jah, I will.” Caleb went to the door.
“Danki, Caleb’s mamm,” Stephen said over his shoulder.
The boy was hungry. He’d eaten most of the meal by the time Caleb had him home.
Edna flagged Caleb down. “Stephen is— Young man, your mamm has been frantic looking for you.”
Caleb climbed out of the buggy and lifted Stephen down. “He snuck a ride home with me.”
“Stephen, where are you?” Jonica’s distant voice came from the wheat field.
“I’ll go tell her Stephen is allrecht.” Caleb hobbled to the field, shards of pain shooting up his leg. He’d made it to the edge of the field when Ephraim ran past him, shouting, “Stephen’s home!”
Caleb stopped. There was no reason going any farther. Jonica had clearly received the news, the two were hugging. Caleb turned. He hadn’t made it too many steps before Jonica ran up to him. “You found him, Caleb?”
“Nett until I got home.” He glanced over his shoulder at Ephraim hiking across the field, white puffy breaths escaping his mouth. “Is the old man out of breath?”
“Be nice, Caleb.”
He snorted. “He’s twice your age.”
“And he wants to marry me.”
“Are you in love with him?” Caleb stumbled on a rock and nearly fell.
Jonica came up beside him and placed her arm around his waist. “Lean on me.”
“I’m allrecht.”
She gripped him tighter. “Let me help you. You’re limping.”
“I’ve been limping for days. Don’t do this nau.” He forced himself to walk faster despite what felt like his muscles shredding. “I don’t want to look weak in front of the old man.”
“Caleb Schulmann, you’re a stubborn goat,” she yelled from a few paces behind him.
Ephraim caught up with them. “What’s wrong with him?”
“Caleb hurt his leg.”
Caleb kept walking. He had a decent stride and it wasn’t too much farther to his buggy. He felt an arm too big to be Jonica’s come up under his shoulder. His weight was lifted on his right side.
“What did you do to your leg?” Ephraim asked.
“I took on a bull in a fight and lost.” If he was going to have help, he preferred Jonica’s support. At least she was softer to lean into.
Jonica ran to Stephen and swept him into her arms. “Why did you leave without telling me?”
“I wanted to go with Caleb,” he whimpered.
“Danki for your help, Ephraim. I have it from here.” Caleb limped toward his buggy as Ephraim joined Jonica and Stephen.
She pointed to the house. “Stephen, go inside and go straight to bed. Aenti, would you mind taking him inside, please?”
Aenti and Stephen tottered toward the house, Stephen telling her about the calves he’d named.
“That’s it?” Ephraim said. “You’re just going to send him to bed?”
“I plan on talking with him later,” Jonica said. “Once I cool down.”
“The bu needs discipline. He needs a strong hand.” He shook his open hand. “If one of mei kinner ran away . . .”
Caleb shook his head as he climbed onto the bench. God have mercy on Stephen—Jonica too. The man was domineering, reminding Caleb of his father.
“Caleb, can you wait a minute?” Jonica strode to the buggy. “Danki again.” If she was disturbed by what Ephraim had said, she wasn’t showing it.
“Don’t do it, Jonica. Don’t geh back to Cedar Ridge.”
“I don’t have a reason to stay, do I?”
“You’re a strong woman. You’ve done a gut job with Stephen so far, and you’ve done it on your own. You don’t need to marry anyone.” Please, don’t do it.
“I hope your leg gets better, Caleb.” Jonica turned and walked away.
He waited a few seconds, hoping she would turn around and wishing he had the courage to stop her from leaving. But he had nothing to offer.
“Jonica. Wait.” He climbed out of the buggy, his leg giving out under his weight.
“Caleb!” She fell at his side. “Is it your leg?”
Don’t make a scene. He gritted his teeth and pushed up on his good leg. “I found this.” He handed her Peter’s notebook. “You chose faith over Peter.”
“That’s what I meant by us wanting different things. Peter wanted the world and I wanted to serve God. I couldn’t choose him over leaving the Amish—over following God.”
“I’m sorry for the way I treated you. I was wrong. You tried to talk about Peter, but I cut you off. If I talked about Peter, I would have admitted that his death was mei fault. I had said very harsh things . . . things that were hurtful.”
“I’m sorry, Caleb. I struggled with telling you—and I know I should have told you. But pride got in mei way. I didn’t want to be judged for past mistakes. I didn’t want you to think less of me.” She lifted the notepad. “Danki for giving me this. Good-bye, Caleb.”
He closed his eyes so he didn’t have to watch her turn away. He was letting the love of his life go and he couldn’t muster enough courage to stop her.
He returned to his buggy, disengaged the brake, and clicked his tongue. He ran the mare home, then fed her extra oats and bedded her down with a blanket. Feeling the energy drain from his body, he could barely lift his bad leg. He didn’t need to measure the size to know his leg was swelling. His pant leg was tight.
When he entered the kitchen, both of his parents were seated at the table, pensive expressions on their faces.
“Have a seat. Your mamm and I want to talk with
you.”
Caleb pulled out a chair opposite them and plopped down.
“You can’t keep Darleen Yoder waiting,” his daed said. “Your mamm and I believe she will make you a gut fraa.”
Caleb shook his head. “I won’t make her a gut husband—and I told Melvin that when I stopped by Yoder’s Market to turn down his offer. I’m nett in love with Darleen. I’m in love with Jonica Muller.”
His mother sniffled.
“She’s a gut woman. A gut mamm to Stephen. And I want to marry her.” If she doesn’t go back to Cedar Ridge and marry Ephraim. Either way, he couldn’t marry Darleen.
“You need to think about it more,” Mamm said.
“Nay,” Caleb said. “We all know life is short. I don’t need to think about it. Mei mind is made up.”
“The bu’s right,” Daed said.
“But your future—”
Caleb held up his hand to stop his mother. “I’ve been thinking about that too. If I finish the haus, I can put it on the market. It should sell at a gut price, and you can use the money to pay medical bills.”
Daed leaned forward. “You’re going to start up your construction business again?”
“I’ll cross that bridge after I finish the haus.”
Mamm plucked a tissue from the dispenser and blotted her eyes. “What changed your mind?”
“I was at the haus today.” He debated how much to say. “I met a man who was there when Peter fell. He didn’t jump.” As Caleb relayed the news, a supernatural sense of freedom overcame them. As though the strongholds had broken, they wept. The first thing they had done together as a family since Peter’s death.
Chapter 31
It’d been two days since Jonica had turned down Ephraim’s proposal, and she couldn’t help but sense something was wrong. Not with her decision. Once she told him that she couldn’t marry someone she didn’t love, the burden had been lifted.
Ephraim seemed relieved and confessed afterward that he’d been praying about the proposal too. Although had she said yes, he would have kept his end of the deal, since she turned him down, he felt led to tell her about Eunice, the widow who had been helping him with his children.
It seemed both their prayers had been answered.
Only something was wrong. She felt the same impending doom as before her parents’ accident and she couldn’t shake the feeling, then or now. She kept a watchful eye on Stephen, not wanting to let him out of her sight.