by Sarah Price
“He’s in an awfully good mood,” Catherine commented as she watched Ellie pour the milk into the large pan.
“He always is when Daed isn’t around.”
Catherine had wondered about that very thing. Both Henry and Ellie were much more relaxed without Gid Tilman in the house. Truth be told, so was she. “Where is your daed?”
“At the wood shop, I’m sure. He won’t be home until supper.”
That was a relief to Catherine. She wouldn’t have to deal with Gid during the day if he worked at the shop.
Together, they worked at bringing the fresh milk to eighty-two degrees before adding the mesophilic starter. Then they set the three pots into water baths to provide indirect heat during the ripening period. While Ellie monitored the temperature of the baths, Catherine made dough for baking bread. By the time Ellie added the rennet to the ripened milk, Catherine’s dough had already risen once and she was kneading it for a second time.
“It’s much more fun to work with company,” Ellie commented joyfully.
Catherine shaped four loaves and set them into the waiting pans before covering them with a clean cloth. “I can’t imagine not having all of my sisters in the house,” she said as she moved to the sink to wash her hands.
“You’re fortunate to have sisters.”
The way that Ellie said it made Catherine regret that she had made such a comment.
“But one day I will have two sisters,” Ellie added cheerfully. She leaned over one of the pots. “Hmm. I think the curds are ready to be cut. Look here.”
Catherine walked over and glanced over Ellie’s shoulder. The milk had solidified into a large, watery dough. Gently, Ellie poked at the top and it sprang back.
“Want to see how I cut them and then you can try it yourself?” Ellie asked. She took a long knife and began to slice through the coagulated mass in the pot. “It’s important that you cut it diagonally. See? Like this.” Carefully, she slid the knife into the large curds, pulling it toward her. As the curds separated, water rose along the cut line. She made several perforations in one direction before she started cutting across the lines, making a checkerboard-like pattern.
“Easy, right? Now you try.”
Catherine took the knife and did the same to the second pot.
“Perfect! Do the third one too, ja?”
As Catherine cut the curds of the third pot, Henry walked into the house. He stopped when he saw Catherine and Ellie at the counter. He chuckled and walked over to them, peering over their heads to see what they were doing. Catherine jumped and the knife slipped. “Oh, help!” Concerned that she might have ruined the curds, she looked at Ellie. “Did I mess it up?”
“Nee, it’s fine. Just finish cutting them. We’ll let them cook a little longer and stir them a bit. Just gentle, though.” Ellie turned toward her brother. “How is your day going?”
“Right gut, I reckon.” He took off his hat and wiped his forehead. “Getting hot out there. Thought I’d grab a cool drink before I hitch up the team to drag the back pasture before dinner. I noticed that no one did that while we were gone.”
Ellie made a sound of disapproval in her throat. “That’s what happens when people work on land that isn’t theirs,” she explained. “They don’t notice such things as clearing the manure from the pasture.”
As Catherine finished cutting the curds, she wondered about Ellie’s reaction. It was the first indication that Ellie disapproved of her father’s model of farming. If the tenants didn’t properly care for the land, why would Gid lease it to them? Despite being curious, Catherine knew better than to ask the question. It wasn’t any of her business. Still, she sensed that there was an undercurrent of tension in the house that went far deeper than Gid’s gruff manner.
After grabbing a glass, Henry poured some chilled water into it and drank it all in one long gulp. He smacked his lips and sighed. “Nothing like chilled water to freshen you up after working in this heat.” He set the glass into the sink before adding, “Well, chilled water and meadow tea. Hint, hint.” He winked at his sister.
“Why don’t you walk Catherine out to the garden and she can collect some tea leaves? I missed our meadow tea while we were in Banthe,” Ellie said.
“Only if Catherine makes it,” her brother teased playfully. “I want to see if she can match your recipe.” He turned to face Catherine. “Ellie is renowned for her meadow tea.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that. I sure wouldn’t want to compete with her,” Catherine said. “I’d be sad to think that I might steal that title from her.”
He laughed and Ellie frowned. “Another challenge? I reckon we shall have to make two batches then.”
Outside, Henry led Catherine to the side of the house. Not far from the edge of the porch was a large raised garden. It was an impressive garden, large enough for even the biggest Amish family, never mind a family of four. There were multiple sections, each planted with rows and rows of plants with nary a weed to be seen. In one section, Catherine saw four long rows of tomatoes, and ten rows of corn grew along the back. In the middle of the garden were sections of beans, beets, carrots, celery, zucchini, and cucumbers. And, of course, there were a few vines of watermelons as well.
“And not one single weed,” Catherine observed. “Who takes care of all this?”
“Ellie. It’s one of her favorite things. Gardening.”
“But when would she have weeded? She was away for well over a week.”
He shrugged and held his hands up as if he didn’t have the answer. “The mystery of Ellie. Her well-guarded secret: How does she do everything so well and with no help?”
Catherine let her eyes rove over the garden, feeling a bit of envy at the thought that she had never created such a magnificent garden. Just as quick, though, she shook her head as if to chase away the thought. Envy was a sin. Instead, Catherine decided that she needed to learn everything she could from Ellie during her stay at Newbury Acres. “Cheese, macramé, and a gorgeous, weed-free garden. Why, she is remarkable, indeed.”
“Just don’t tell her that. She’s as modest as she is remarkable,” he said as he leaned against the fence that surrounded the garden. “I’d hate for that to change.”
He waited until she cut her mint and then he walked her back to the house.
“I’ll be anxious to see which one of you wins the mint tea test!” he announced as she opened the kitchen door.
“Me, too!” she replied. “I suspect I know the answer.” She motioned toward the kitchen with her head.
He laughed and started walking backward toward the stable. “Two hours,” he called out. “That should give you enough time to give it your best shot, ladies.”
“I might need it.” But she was laughing when she turned away from him. If the morning was any indication of the rest of her stay with the Tilmans, she was going to enjoy herself more than she had anticipated.
Chapter 20
At Newbury Acres, Catherine quickly found an easy routine to follow.
During the day, Catherine helped Ellie with the household chores and cooking, which, given that only four people were in the house, didn’t occupy too much of their time. After dinner, Ellie would take her into an empty room upstairs and show her how to weave yarn on the loom, knotting it in certain places, to make beautiful wall hangings. Then, they would spend the rest of the afternoon walking on the different trails through the property, usually ending up in the back fields where Henry worked.
The first time she saw Henry seated on a baler that was pulled by six mules, Catherine had to pause to give herself time to reconcile the two images that she had of him: the relaxed vacationer from Banthe and the hard worker at Newbury Acres. If she had grown fond of Henry in Banthe, now that she saw him in his personal environment, at both home and work, Catherine realized that she admired him even more.
And what wasn’t there to admire?
Like Ellie, Henry had a magical way of doing a dozen different things at the same time an
d completing all of them without one complaint. Without doubt, Catherine had never met a harder working man. And yet, he never appeared overly tired or weary. And he was not one to complain about the amount of work. In fact, he was always pleasant, even in the heat of the summer sun, which caused beads of sweat to soak through his shirt. On most days, when he saw them approaching, he would greet them with a big smile and a happy wave, immediately stopping whatever he was doing so that he could spend a few moments visiting with them.
By Friday, he must have anticipated their arrival, for he already had the mules resting under the shade of some nearby trees when his sister and Catherine emerged from the walking trail.
“Is that a picnic basket I see you hiding there?” he said, overexaggerating the question as he stared at the basket so obviously hooked over Catherine’s arm. “My, my! I hope it contains some wonderful treats! And some of Catherine’s award-winning meadow tea? All of this hard work sure does make a man hungry! But wait, mayhaps you brought this to share it with someone else?”
Ellie gave him a playful push on his arm. “Whether or not it’s hard work that makes you hungry, I’m not certain, Henry! You’ve always been one with a right gut appetite.”
He helped spread an old quilt on the grass, and the three of them sat down to enjoy the fried chicken, corn, and biscuits that were neatly packed inside of the basket. And, of course, Catherine’s “award”-winning tea from the tea-making contest.
“I’m glad that you’re here, Catherine,” Henry said after he finished his meal. He was stretched out on the sheet with one knee bent as he leaned his head against his hand. “You’re doing a world of good for Ellie. So often she’s alone here. Or with only me for company, which doesn’t say too much ...”
Catherine clucked her tongue. “I’m sure your company suits her just fine, Henry Tilman.”
He gave a soft chuckle. “She might argue with that. Anyway, on Monday, I must go to the other property to cut and bale hay for a few days. There are several pastures that need their third cutting for the season. It’s just easier to stay there. At least with you here, I can take comfort knowing Ellie isn’t alone.”
“While I’m happy to be here, she certainly wouldn’t be alone. Your Daed’s here,” Catherine said quickly, hoping to mask her disappointment. The thought of Henry not being at the farm made her heart sink.
Henry raised his eyebrows and stared up at the blue sky. “Daed will return to Banthe tomorrow.”
“Your daed returns to Banthe so soon?” Catherine’s mouth opened as if to say something, but then she thought better of it.
“He’ll spend a week or so there and return with Freddie next Saturday.” Absentmindedly, Henry plucked at a blade of grass and held it between his thumbs. “He likes to attend worship there when it’s our off-Sunday here.” He blew into the grass, which made a loud and silly trumpet noise, causing the two women to giggle.
Frankly, with the exception of Henry’s absence and Freddie’s eventual return, nothing could please Catherine more! While Gid did not force his presence upon the Tilmans’ guest, she could sense it when he was around. There was something heavy and oppressive about him that made it hard for her to breathe properly when he returned from the wood shop, although in an entirely different way than how Henry often made her catch her breath.
When she realized that Henry was staring at her, Catherine cleared her throat, hoping that her expression did not give away her thoughts. “I’m sure that Ellie and I will be the champion cheese makers by the time of your return. We’ll probably have a whole inventory of macramé to sell to the tourists as well! And perhaps she might learn a few tricks about my meadow tea.”
He laughed at her good humor and even Ellie smiled.
“I’m sure the stores in Farmington will be thrilled with the extra pieces of macramé.” Ellie brushed some grass from her skirt.
“Farmington?”
“Ja, you know, where the Andersons are from,” Ellie replied to Catherine. “They probably have seen my pieces at the store. The owner says that he can hardly keep them on the shelves.”
At the mention of the Andersons, Ellie frowned. “They aren’t from Farmington,” she corrected. “They’re from Fullerton. My town.”
“Oh?” Ellie looked confused. “I’m sure my daed said they were from Farmington.”
Catherine shook her head. “Nee, not Farmington, although I believe they have relatives that live there.” She tried to remember what she could about the Andersons and their extended family. What had her father told her a while back? “One of them has a rather large farm, I recall Daed telling me once. Well, anyway, we certainly can keep that store busy, don’t you think?”
“We’ll have our work cut out for us next week, that’s for sure and certain,” Ellie replied.
“But, in the meantime, we shall have a lovely Saturday afternoon and Sunday, won’t we?” Henry directed the question to his sister. “Perhaps some fishing on Saturday? And, if we are successful, a fish fry that evening?”
To Catherine, nothing sounded more exciting than spending a lazy afternoon at the large pond toward the back of their property. She had never gone fishing before, but she knew that she would enjoy it, especially if it meant more time with Henry. After all, for the past few days since she had been at Newbury Acres, she had barely seen Henry at all, except at meal times and when she and Ellie walked to the backfields where he worked in the afternoon.
“Fishing!” Ellie exclaimed, wrinkling her nose. “Ugh! You can count me out!”
Immediately Catherine fought the urge to express her disappointment. If Ellie did not go fishing, she surely could not. After all, she was Ellie’s guest, not Henry’s. And it wouldn’t be proper for her to go fishing alone with a man she hardly knew.
“Such a shame,” Henry said, making an exaggerated sorrowful face. “I was so looking forward to fresh fish for supper one night.”
Catherine mirrored the sentiment, more for the act of fishing than the act of eating, but she remained silent on the topic. Instead, she stared off in the direction of the trees that separated the fields in the back of the property from the ones near the farmhouse.
“What. Ever!” Ellie said teasingly. “I dare say you don’t need my permission to go fishing. Nor my presence, either.”
“It’s no fun to go fishing alone, dear schwester.”
Ellie stood up and stretched. “Then don’t go alone, Henry. Perhaps Catherine likes fishing more than I do and would still accompany you. You certainly do not need me to tag along. You know how fish and worms make me squeamish.” She headed toward a patch of wildflowers, which she began to pluck, collecting them into a pretty bouquet.
Henry shifted his weight on the quilt, turning toward Catherine. His dark eyes sought hers as he tilted his head, raising one eyebrow at her questioningly. “Well, Catherine, what say you? Are you a fisherman?”
“I don’t know about that,” she started to reply, but noticing that his expression started to change to disappointment, she quickly added, “Fisherwoman, mayhaps.”
He smiled broadly. “Oh, ja? Fisherwoman, eh? Well, can this fisherwoman stand to be with a certain fisherman for hours on end with a pole in hand, hoping for a bite or two on our lines?”
In her mind, she shouted, “Yes! Yes!” But propriety forced her to respond with more reserve. “Only if this fisherman will show a certain fisherwoman how to fish. If so, she would gladly accompany you!”
He slapped his hand against his bent knee as he sat up. “It’s a deal!” Stretching out his hand, he waited for her to shake it. When she did, he held onto her hand for a few seconds longer than necessary. “I shall think of little else between now and then,” he said in a soft voice. Then, speaking louder, he called out, “Did you hear that, Ellie? Fresh fish we shall have on Saturday after all!”
As he walked toward his sister, Catherine stared after him. Had he truly just whispered those words of affection to her? Or had she misheard him? She tried to calm her beating
heart, hoping deep down that it was the former and not the latter.
When he joined his sister, they bent their heads toward each other and spoke. Catherine couldn’t hear what they said, but she saw Ellie toss her head back and laugh. Henry grinned, looking quite pleased with himself. He glanced over his shoulder at Catherine, and when he saw that she was watching him, he winked at her and then returned his attention to Ellie.
Catherine began to repack their basket, sad that the picnic was over but excited for the following day’s activities. While she had noticed that Ellie often found a reason to leave Henry alone with her, it was usually only for a short period of time. But tomorrow … Catherine smiled to herself. Tomorrow she would have Henry all to herself for over three hours. She couldn’t imagine any better way to spend a Saturday afternoon.
“We should head back now,” Ellie said as she rejoined Catherine. “Henry will need to start the afternoon milking soon.”
“Such a shame that he will be away most of next week,” Catherine lamented.
“It is rather taxing on him, working the two farms.” Ellie shook her head. “Such a shame that no one lives there. I still don’t know why Daed doesn’t rent it out or even better sell it to a nice young couple. It makes no sense to me.”
Catherine bit her tongue.
“It’s such a pretty place. You’ll have to be certain to see it.”
Henry walked over, a stick in his hand. He swung it absentmindedly at the grass. “See what?”
“Our maem’s place. The Woods farm.”
“Ah, the Woods farm.” He looked at Catherine and winked. “You liked it well enough, ja?”
Ellie’s eyes widened as she realized that her brother had already taken Catherine to it.
“We just drove by it,” Catherine was quick to point out. “Last Sunday.”
“I see,” she responded, a secretive smile forming on her lips.
“We never left the buggy,” Catherine offered quickly. She certainly didn’t want Ellie thinking that anything improper had occurred between her and Henry.