by Amy Lillard
“I thought you might run a pot of them out to Matthew Byler’s place.”
Gracie resisted the urge to immediately shake her head. It had been four days since she had completely embarrassed herself. And if she was lucky she would have five more before she had to see him again at church. “Is that necessary?”
Eunice looked up from rolling out the dumplings, her plump face pink from the heat in the kitchen and her own exertion. “Of course it’s necessary,” she chided. “What has gotten into you lately?”
Gracie stuffed the rest of the carrot piece into her mouth and used that as a reason not to answer right away.
“That poor man,” Eunice continued. “Came by frantic this morning needing me to watch his kids. His boy, I don’t remember his name . . . he’s the middle one. Anyway, he fell out of the hayloft and broke his arm. Matthew had to rush him to town. He just picked them up a bit ago.”
And how petty would it be of her to not take him supper after the surely trying day he’d just had?
“What’s up, cuz?” Hannah called from the doorway. It was strange and funny to hear her talk like an Englischer though she was dressed Plain.
“You better not let the bishop hear you say that. He’ll think you’re not serious about your classes,” Eunice said. The bishop had been accepting of Hannah coming back into the fold, but Eunice seemed to over-worry that something was going to go wrong and Hannah would disappear once again.
Hannah made a face.
Eunice was constantly worried that something would happen and Hannah’s request to marry Aaron or join the church or both would be denied. Gracie supposed she couldn’t really blame Eunice. She had lost two daughters so long ago, only to get them back and lose the third to the Englisch world. It had been a while since Tillie had written to them. Gracie wondered how she was faring in the big bad world. She shook off the thought and turned her attention back to Hannah.
“How are the classes?”
Hannah swiped a piece of carrot and shrugged one shoulder. “You know.”
Gracie nodded. She did. The classes were meaningful and boring, necessary and a monotonous recap of everything they already knew, and yet they were exciting, for they signified such great change. She supposed that was the real reason behind them. If a person had been raised Amish, which most of them had, they already knew the information told to them again at class. But the class itself signified that something different was happening, a transition. That made them special.
Since Hannah had left the Amish before joining the church, she must join now in order to marry Aaron. And joining the church meant baptism classes.
“What’s for supper?” Hannah asked.
“Chicken and dumplings.” Eunice gave her a quick glance, then went back to tearing off strips of dough and tossing them into the boiling chicken stock on the stove. The hotter the water the firmer the dumpling, and Abner Gingerich liked his dumplings firm. “I thought you were going to be at Aaron’s tonight.”
She shook her head. “He got a driver to take him to Ethridge for a couple of days. The grandparents have been pestering for a visit.”
“And you didn’t go with him?” Gracie asked.
Hannah made a sweeping gesture from shoulder to thigh. “Apparently not,” she said, then beamed a bright smile to take the snark from her words. “I don’t like to intrude on their time.”
“I’m sure they don’t see it that way.” Eunice tossed the last of the dough into the boiling pot, then wiped her hands on her apron.
Maybe this meant Gracie wouldn’t have to take Matthew the dumplings after all. Because now that Hannah was there that was . . . one more person to feed. Like that was going to make any difference.
“Did you cook enough?” Hannah nodded toward the stove as Eunice turned down the heat and placed a lid over the pot.
“Gracie’s taking some over to Matthew Byler’s tonight.”
“Really?” Hannah lifted one questioning brow and shot Gracie a sassy look. Gracie knew exactly what her cousin was thinking. But it wasn’t possible. She and Matthew were not meant to be. And honestly, looking back on it now, she had known it all along. Known it because she knew next to nothing about him. She couldn’t marry someone she barely knew. It was crazy!
“Now that you’re here, perhaps you would rather . . .” Gracie shot Hannah a pleading look. “I’m sort of tired.”
“I don’t know . . .” Hannah mused. “I’ve had sort of a rough day myself.”
Eunice harrumphed. “Goodness, what is wrong with you girls? The poor man needs food for his children.”
“Hannah . . .” Gracie pleaded.
Her cousin snatched another piece of carrot and thoughtfully chewed. “I’ll go over there,” she said for them both to hear. Then she lowered her voice for Gracie’s ears only. “But you owe me one.”
* * *
By the time Matthew got all the children home and Henry into bed to rest, his head was pounding.
Thankfully, Grace stopped crying on the ride home, but her wails of betrayal still echoed in his ears. The twins and Stephen had gone out to the barn to do the small chores before supper.
Now Matthew just had to figure out what was for supper. He was blessed to say that the church ladies had supplied him with food enough that he hadn’t had to worry about it, but he knew that time was drawing to an end. He had three weeks, maybe a month, and when summer hit in full swing, everyone would be so busy with their own families that they wouldn’t have time to give him a second thought, much less cook him a meal.
There had to be some leftovers. He swallowed a couple of Tylenol and was surveying the contents of their icebox when he heard a familiar buggy outside. Maybe it wasn’t really familiar, but he would like to believe that it was. He wanted it to be Gracie.
He took a quick peek out the window. It was definitely the Gingeriches’ buggy.
Suddenly he knew. Her proposal was exactly what his family needed. He needed a wife. The children needed a mother. They needed someone. She wasn’t hard to look at. In fact, thinking back, she was downright pretty. He knew she could cook, and of course she could clean, and she could calm the baby quicker than anyone else who had tried.
And she was pulling up to his house, bringing him salvation once again. He shook his head at himself. He was being overly dramatic, but it was true. On a small scale. She saved them time and time again with food, comfort, even just a woman’s attention.
All he had to do was meet her at the door and tell her thanks for the food and he had given her proposal a great deal of thought. He had decided that it was a fine idea. A good idea? A nice plan? A good plan? The way to go?
It was just getting worse. Maybe he should wing it.
He was standing just at the door when the first knock came. He opened it so suddenly the woman on the other side jumped back. She held a large pot in her hands and toppled a bit from the sudden movement.
He reached out to steady her.
“You scared me.” Hannah Gingerich. At least he thought it was Hannah. Not that she looked anything at all like her sister, Leah, he just hadn’t had enough dealings with them to remember which name went with which woman.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “That was not my intention.”
She smiled in forgiveness and held up the pot. “I have chicken and dumplings.”
“Yum,” he replied.
“Mamm said this is probably the last time for them until it gets too hot to eat them.” She nudged past him and into the house. “Is the kitchen to the left?”
He nodded. She was bold, this one. Not at all like Gracie. It was hard to believe they were cousins, or even related at all.
“One of us will pick up the pot tomorrow.” She brushed past him again and out onto the porch. “You were expecting Gracie?”
He swallowed hard. How did she know? Was he that easy to read? It wasn’t like he and Gracie were a real couple. “I thought perhaps.”
Hannah-maybe-Leah smiled a little bigger than be
fore. “I’ll see what I can do.”
* * *
Matthew felt a little like a prisoner in his own home. He couldn’t go to the fields. He would have to take all three boys and the baby, and that just didn’t seem feasible. He supposed he could run over and see if the Widow Kate could watch them for a while so he could . . .
He could what? Plant his crops? He hadn’t planned on doing that until tomorrow. Today he thought he would go see Gracie Glick. Tell her that he liked her plan. See if she was really serious about helping him with his children. Lord knows, he needed it.
He settled on getting the garden plot ready to plant as well. He hated it. Woman’s work. He took care of the big fields, not the little patch of dirt that sat directly in front of his house. There was a small strip of grass between the porch and the garden, only about twenty yards wide. But he hated the thought that anyone driving by on the road would see him out working in the family garden. It was embarrassing and maybe even necessary. If Gracie decided that she really didn’t want the immediate responsibility of five children, he would be the caretaker of that land as well. At least until Stephen was out of school.
When Stephen’s days were free, Matthew knew a little of the pressure would be off him. But he remembered the doctor’s gentle chastising. She might not understand the ways of the Amish. Not many did. The fact of the matter was they all lived in an Englisch world. If anyone else got hurt, he was sure authorities would be contacted. How would it look to leave a seven-year-old in charge of three younger brothers and a baby?
Gracie’s proposal was the only option he had.
* * *
His heart started pounding in his chest as he pulled his buggy into the dirt lane that led to the Gingeriches’ houses.
Just after their noon meal of leftover chicken and dumplings, he scrubbed the boys down, gave the screaming baby a quick bath, and dressed everyone in their best non-choring clothes. Henry had hated the idea from the start but was further vexed when his shirtsleeve wouldn’t fit over his cast. Matthew hated to do it, but he cut off the sleeve much like the doctors had done yesterday to the shirt Henry had worn into the clinic. If he was in this cast as long as the doctors predicted, there would be plenty of time to have a new good shirt made. And everyday shirts as well.
Then the twins started crying when he refused to cut their sleeves from their shirts like their brother’s. The baby was still sniffling, her bottom lip protruding as if the tears could start again any moment.
“Isn’t this where Abner’s Eunice lives?” Henry asked. He remembered Eunice for all the meals she had sent over. Tasty food will do that to a growing boy. “Jah.”
“Why are we coming here?” he asked. He had taken the seat next to Matthew in the buggy. It wasn’t where Matthew liked him to be. He had learned right after Beth’s funeral that it was best to keep the twins separated when they were bored. And riding in the buggy was boring. To them, at least. He didn’t care one way or the other. Thomas inevitably aggravated Benjamin enough to start a tussle of some sort, and that was dangerous going down the roads where Englisch cars also traveled.
Today he had placed them in the back, side by side, with threats of more than time-out if they didn’t behave on the way to see Gracie. So far, so good, but the day and the driveway were long. The baby’s seat had to sit in the back as well. Thankfully she had fallen asleep as soon as he started toward the Gingeriches’. He supposed she was exhausted after her trying morning. He knew he was. Now if she would just stay asleep after the buggy stopped. But that was praying for a miracle. These days he didn’t seem to have those sorts of blessings.
They passed a little shack that looked like it had been worked on recently. He wasn’t much for district gossip, but he thought Jamie Stoltzfus had stayed there with his nephew Peter before they turned Mennonite. Leaving the Amish church, was something he didn’t understand but didn’t try. It wasn’t his business, after all.
“Are we there?” Thomas asked.
“Do we look like we’re there?” he returned.
“Jah.” Henry grinned from the passenger’s seat. He used his tongue to push on his bottom teeth, which were about to come out. Matthew had offered to tie a string around them, tie the other end to a doorknob and slam the door. It was how his dat had helped him when his teeth were loose.
Jah, and you hated it.
So he had.
And so he allowed Henry to do things his own way.
Like the bright yellow cast he’d come back with yesterday before he was discharged from the medical clinic. It was actually more than bright, the color of one of those highlighter pens people used to emphasize notes.
The bishop wouldn’t say anything. But he knew there would be church members who disapproved. That was simply life in a conservative district.
“Are we there yet?” Thomas asked again once the houses came into view.
Matthew didn’t bother to answer. As if he could. His throat grew instantly dry and his heart kicked up another notch. The reins slipped as his hands began to perspire. But as nervous as he was, there was no backing out now. He had been spotted.
Gracie, Hannah, and Leah were all outside, clustered around a wooden table covered with bottles of all shapes, sizes, and colors. The taller ones were clear while the smaller bottles were dark amber-brown and deep blue. Three huge bowls sat in the center of the table and contained some sort of milky-looking liquid. He had no idea what it was, but it didn’t matter. That wasn’t his purpose here.
Hannah-Leah saw him and nudged Gracie with her elbow. Then the other Hannah-Leah turned around and grinned. The two Gingerich women laughed as if someone had told the funniest joke while Gracie stood stock-still in apparent shock.
“Stop.” Gracie swatted at her cousins with the towel she held in her hands. He read her lips more than heard the words over the rattle of his buggy.
She swatted at them again and the sisters straightened up, the extra-wide grins not leaving their faces. It was almost as if they were teasing her about . . . him? But that would mean she had told them about her proposal.
His nervousness went haywire. What did it matter? It was a marriage of convenience. He needed someone to take care of his children and Gracie had graciously offered. See? Her name suited her to a T. It was surely a sign that it was meant to be. If he believed in such things. He wasn’t quite sure he did.
“Are we—” Thomas started as Matthew pulled the buggy to a stop.
“Jah, Thomas. We’re there now. But I need you boys to sit in the buggy with the baby.”
Groans went up all around. His twins wanted to go play with the Gingeriches’ twins and Henry wanted to show off his new cast, indifferent toward the fact that he had showed everyone the day before.
Matthew shook his head. “We’re only going to be here a second.”
“Then why did we get all dressed up?” Henry asked.
“And clean?” Thomas added. Benjamin sat quietly beside his brother, softly kicking the back of the front seat. Enough that it made a gentle noise but not enough to aggravate. But that was Benjamin.
“Because,” Matthew growled. His children seemed undaunted.
The women waited, their curious gazes steady.
He supposed he looked twelve kinds of a fool sitting there arguing with his children. Beth never argued with them. Why did he have to?
But he never came up with an answer. Just then the baby realized they weren’t moving and decided to wake up. And squall like a . . . well, like a baby.
Matthew sighed. Why couldn’t today turn out like he had planned? Even just a little bit.
“The baby’s crying,” Henry said.
“Danki, son.” Matthew hopped down, nodded the brim of his hat toward the ladies, then went around the back of the buggy to get the baby. Like picking her up was going to help. Still, he wouldn’t leave her there, wailing her head off while he talked to Gracie.
He unbuckled her from the carrier seat and she arched her back as if to keep him fr
om actually picking her up. She hated him. That much he was certain of. It was a fact he hated as much as she despised him. Keeping his grip firm but gentle, he cradled her against his chest, her huge tears wetting his shirt front.
What was it Gracie had said? You’re too little to have such big problems. If she only knew.
“Da-at!” Henry yelled to be heard over the baby’s sobs.
“Stay in the buggy,” he said without turning around.
His gaze sought out Gracie and he kept it on her alone. He didn’t want to see the other women’s goofy grins. He couldn’t believe that Gracie had told them her plans to marry him. It was such a personal thing to share.
Never mind that. It doesn’t matter.
And it didn’t. Not today anyway.
“Can I talk to you for a moment?” He raised his voice to be heard over the baby’s continued crying. He bounced her in his arms and patted her bottom the way he had seen Gracie do, but his actions didn’t have the same effect on the infant. She was as stubborn as her mamm.
“Jah, sure.” She didn’t hesitate. She wiped her hands on the towel she still held and came around the table.
“In private,” he clarified, walking closer to his buggy. Like that was better. He stopped halfway between it and the table and turned to face her.
“Jah?” she asked. Her voice was soft, and he could barely hear it over the baby’s crying. Why did the child cry all the time? It broke his heart. Here was another woman he couldn’t make happy. “Here,” Gracie offered. “Let me.” She held her hands out and he gave the baby over. So close to Gracie, he noticed she smelled nice, like lavender and lemon peels, maybe with a bit of vanilla thrown in as well.
Gracie bounced the child, holding her close and kissing the top of her head. The pair looked so natural, even though Gracie was in everyday clothes and the baby dressed in one of her best. Her dark blue dress was one of the first ones Beth had made for her. One of three. The rest had come from the secondhand shop in town. The one Leah owned.