Huckleberry Spring

by Jennifer Beckstrand

  “I’m not going in. I’m just the driver.”

  “You most certainly are coming in. You’re going to apologize to Ben for disliking him so much.”

  “I am not.”

  Emma propped her hand on her hip. “Jah, you are. Don’t argue about it.”

  “If you make me go in there, I won’t apologize. Like as not I’ll give him a piece of my mind for how he treated you.”

  “He’s my fiancé, and he’s not well. You’ll hold your tongue.”

  Mahlon scowled until his brows touched. “Then I best not go in.”

  Emma twisted her lips. “You’re not going to make your one-armed sister tote that big basket of goodies into the house, are you?”

  Mahlon huffed his displeasure. “Fine. I’ll come.” He reached into the back and retrieved the basket Emma had packed that morning. “But be glad I’m not inclined to yell at Ben while he’s sick.”

  Emma tried to ignore the stone in the pit of her stomach. If Mahlon was waiting for a full recovery, he’d never get a chance to yell at Ben again.

  Anna answered the door before they knocked. They’d made plenty of noise just getting to the porch. She squealed and threw her arms around Emma. “I hear you’re engaged!”

  Emma all but burst with happiness as she hugged Anna back. “Jah.”

  Anna patted her on the cheek. “I must be honest. A shadow of a doubt crossed my mind about a month ago. You two made it hard on yourselves.”

  To her surprise, Ben appeared at his mammi’s side sporting a bandage on his forehead and a wide, adorable grin. His legs seemed to be working fine. “I only needed to show forth a little humility.”

  Emma returned his smile. “And for me to show forth a few muscles.”

  Ben chuckled. How she loved that silky, resonant bass. Anna moved aside, and Ben took a step closer. Emma slipped her hand into Ben’s, partly to be close enough to catch him if his legs buckled but mostly to hold on to him for dear life. She couldn’t resist, and she didn’t care who knew.

  She might have heard Mahlon grunt his displeasure behind her. And she might have decided to ignore him.

  “Cum reu,” Anna said. “You are just in time to see our new arrival. It came yesterday.” She hooked her elbow around Mahlon’s arm when it looked as if he’d prefer to wait on the porch. “You too, Mahlon. And don’t look so miserable. I’ve got plans.”

  Before Emma had a chance to even guess at what Anna meant by “plans,” she caught sight of Lizzie, who sat on the sofa next to Felty.

  Emma smiled, but she might as well not have been in the same county as Lizzie for as much attention as Lizzie paid her. Lizzie scowled and riveted her gaze on Mahlon.

  In turn, Mahlon folded his arms across his chest and plopped himself into a chair at the table—as far from Lizzie as he could get. His reaction did not bode well for the rest of the visit.

  If this was Anna’s plan, Emma feared it was doomed to failure. Mahlon had said too many things he couldn’t take back, and Lizzie had dug in her heels so deep she was standing in a hole.

  Felty rose from the sofa. “Emma, how nice to see you. Ben says you’re sticking with him.”

  Emma nodded. It saddened her to think that Ben could have ever doubted that.

  “I told you it would work out,” Anna said.

  “Hi, Lizzie,” Emma said, keeping her voice soft, fearing anything over a whisper would ruffle the already-ruffled feathers in the room.

  Lizzie twisted her lips into what passed for a smile. “How is your shoulder?”

  “Not bad. I’m trying to keep still so I won’t bump into anything.”

  Lacing her fingers together, Lizzie shifted on the sofa as if it were the most uncomfortable seat in the world. She made small talk with Emma, but her attention still squarely focused on Mahlon. “Well, don’t try to do too much too soon, even if you start to feel better.”

  “I won’t. Mahlon did my chores this morning. He said he’d do them ’til Christmas if I need him to.”

  Lizzie’s face turned three shades redder. Emma shouldn’t have mentioned Mahlon—never mind that he sat a mere twelve feet from Lizzie. If they all pretended he wasn’t in the room, it would be easier on everybody.

  Ben cleared his throat and shuffled farther into the great room with Emma in tow. “Look what we bought for Dawdi.”

  Emma hadn’t noticed it when she first came into the room, but Felty’s old tattered recliner had been replaced with a new black leather one with the tags still attached.

  “Ben’s idea, not mine,” Felty said.

  “You needed a new one, Dawdi.”

  “I didn’t. Now that you and Emma are back together, I don’t know if I’ll ever sit in it again. I’ve been neglecting my chickens.”

  Ben squeezed Emma’s hand. “Show Emma how it reclines,” he said. “I figured since Dawdi spent so much time off his feet, we should get him the latest newfangled model.”

  In spite of his apparent reluctance, Ben’s request was all the prodding Felty needed. He was never one to resist a new gadget—as long as it was allowed under the Ordnung.

  He sat down and seemed to disappear into the chair. “It’s called the Brutus. Extra large for extra comfort.” He reached down and lifted a small, flat bag that hung over one of the armrests. “This is a little holder for magazines and a TV remote.”

  Anna sighed. “Now, Felty.”

  “We’ll never have a TV, but it’s nice to know I’ve got a place for it if I ever need one.” He pulled the handle and reclined as far back as the chair would take him. “A family of four could sleep in this thing.”

  “It’s good for your back,” Ben said.

  “And how are you feeling, Felty?” Emma asked.

  Felty laced his fingers behind his head. “Well, I got my nosed fixed, my missing tooth replaced, a root canal, and I had Lasik on my eyes last week. I feel like a new man.”

  Anna giggled. “Some nights I roll over and think, ‘Who is this sixty-year-old man sleeping in my bed?’”

  Felty rocked forward and seemed to catapult out of the recliner. “I’ve decided to turn my chair over to Ben. He needs it in a worse way than I do.”

  A cloud darkened Ben’s features. “I hope not for a while.”

  Emma wrapped both arms tightly around Ben’s arm. “We’ll take whatever time God gives us.”

  Ben’s frown faded into shadow as he studied her face. “The Lord gives and the Lord takes away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.”

  “What did that doctor tell you anyway?” Felty asked. “Lizzie says he gave you seven stitches and ran all sorts of tests.”

  “He wants me to go back on Monday. I’m not looking forward to hearing the bad news a second time.”

  The more they talked about Ben’s illness, the gloomier he became. Emma wanted to weep for him. How had he endured it all alone for so long? He had talked himself into believing that he was being unselfish, even though there were many people who would have gladly shared the burden with him and counted it a blessing.

  She nuzzled her cheek against his arm and resolved to make him the happiest man alive. “How has my pumpkin been growing?”

  “Ben has taken wonderful-gute care of it,” Anna said. “I knitted a shade covering, and Ben rigged a way to hang it. The sun stays right off.”

  “I don’t wonder that it’s five hundred pounds,” Ben said.

  “I don’t think I have enough recipes for all that pumpkin,” Anna said.

  “I thought the pumpkin was for Toby,” Ben said, winking at his mammi.

  Anna’s eyes grew wide, and she shaped her lips into a silent O. Her eyes darted to Emma, as if she’d given away a great secret. “Ach, yes. We must take it to Toby. He’ll be thrilled.”

  Emma smiled. She’d completely forgotten that this excitement had started because Anna claimed she wanted to grow a giant pumpkin for two-year-old Toby. Studying Anna’s guilty expression, Emma knew it hadn’t been about the pumpkin at all.

  Thank heavens f
or dear Anna Helmuth. She’d brought Emma and Ben back together. Emma’s heart swelled. She would never forget Anna’s kindness.

  Ben bit his bottom lip and gave Mahlon a half smile. “Maybe Mahlon and some of the other boys could help me load it into the wagon. We could deliver it to Toby on Monday.”

  “You better talk to Tyler first,” Felty said. “I don’t know what he’ll think of a five-hundred-pound pumpkin appearing on his doorstep. It won’t make no difference to Toby.”

  Anna clicked her tongue. “Now, Felty, Toby will love it. It will be like Christmas all over again.”

  “I’m busy on Monday,” Mahlon grumbled.

  Every eye turned to him, mostly because he hadn’t uttered a word since he had come into the house.

  “Busy frowning at people,” Lizzie said. She leaned back in the sofa and folded her arms around her waist.

  Mahlon clenched his teeth and turned his face away from all of them. Emma was astounded that he hadn’t exploded with a tart reply. Lizzie always stuck under his skin like a burr under a saddle. She admired her brother for having enough self-control to hold his tongue. Or maybe he didn’t want to argue with Lizzie in front of Anna and Felty.

  Anna clasped her hands, tilted her head, and gazed at Lizzie. Then she turned and regarded Mahlon. She kept a straight face, but Emma could see her eyes twinkling. “When are you planning on tying the knot?” she asked as she strolled to the kitchen and pulled a loaf of dark bread out of the fridge.

  “Three weeks,” Ben said, flashing a genuinely joyful smile.

  Jah, she would see to it that he was wildly happy for the rest of his life. She adored that smile.

  Ben cleared his throat and made another attempt with Mahlon. “Mahlon, I hoped you would help me get the dawdi house at my folks’ place spiffed up a bit. The kitchen needs a new floor, and the roof has sprung a leak.”

  Mahlon flared his nostrils like a dragon about to belch fire.

  Emma tightened her grip on Ben’s arm and silently willed her brother to remain calm.

  It didn’t work. The flames leaped into Mahlon’s eyes. “I helped you repair that roof last summer, and I can see how well that worked out. Why would I help? You might not stick around.”

  “Mahlon, be quiet,” Emma scolded.

  Ben stiffened. “I’m not going anywhere, Mahlon. And I’m sorry for how I hurt Emma.” He dropped his gaze to the floor. “You can’t even begin to imagine how sorry I am.”

  Mahlon rose to his feet and erupted. “Really? Well, do you know what I think? I think you were so proud that you didn’t even consider how badly you would hurt Emma. She was devastated. Devastated. And we were left to pick up the pieces of her heart when you hightailed it out of here.”

  “I’m all right, Mahlon. You don’t need to be angry anymore.”

  Ben grew just as agitated as Mahlon, but Emma could tell he directed all his displeasure at himself. “I tried to listen to God’s voice, I tried to—”

  “If you weren’t so proud, Emma wouldn’t have spent all that time mourning for you.”

  Lizzie let out an unladylike snort. “If you weren’t so thickheaded, you’d understand that Ben was being unselfish.”

  Mahlon’s face twisted into a tight knot. “Unselfish? He should have had more faith than that.”

  Her brother’s tantrum had gone on long enough. Emma refused to let him say another word against Ben. “Mahlon, stop this at once.”

  Lizzie stood and gestured to Emma. “I can handle this,” she said as she marched toward Mahlon as if she were a wolf about to attack. “Mahlon Nelson, you are the most pigheaded, unreasonable boy I’ve ever met.”

  Mahlon met the onslaught head-on. His scowl could have popped the feathers off all of Felty’s chickens. “Am I? What about you, Tizzy? You’re the one who said Ben was an idiot for breaking up with Emma.”

  The corner of Ben’s mouth quirked upward. “You said that?”

  Lizzie didn’t even turn to acknowledge her brother. “That’s before I knew the truth.”

  “I still think he was an idiot for breaking it off.” Mahlon narrowed his eyes. “And you do too. You’re treating him with kid gloves just because he’s sick.”

  “I am not.”

  “Sick or not, he’s going to hear how I feel.”

  “You didn’t even want them back together,” Lizzie said, as if accusing him of stealing her horse. “You wanted her to date Adam. What a disaster that turned into.”

  “I didn’t know he’d be a jerk.”

  “Adam hurt Emma just as bad as anything Ben could have done.”

  “That’s a bunch of baloney,” Mahlon protested.

  Ben looked at Emma with concern. She smirked and raised an eyebrow. “Let them have it out,” she whispered. “They’re not satisfied until they’ve gotten good and riled up.”

  “Adam was never good enough for Emma,” Lizzie said.

  “Your brother fell down a well,” Mahlon sputtered. “Who falls down a well when they’re trying to save somebody?”

  “What about all the other times he rescued her? Remember the chicken coop? And how dare you forget the buggy accident.”

  Mahlon hesitated only for a second. He wasn’t about to let Lizzie get the last word. “That chicken coop was a hazard. Crist Zimmerman should have chopped it to pieces years ago.”

  Lizzie bobbed her head up and down. “So now you think you can tell Crist how to care for his farm.”

  “If he needs advice, I’ll give it to him.”

  Emma stifled a giggle. Now they were just groping for things to disagree about.

  Acting like a mother who once had thirteen children constantly creating chaos right under her nose, Anna stood at the kitchen counter slicing the bread she’d pulled out of the fridge. She had a serene look on her face, as if Mahlon and Lizzie chatted about the weather. Felty, making good on his threat to never use his recliner again, parked on the sofa and watched the argument with an amused curl on his lips.

  “Ben carried Emma home after that buggy accident and pulled her from the lake,” Lizzie said.

  “Emma saved Ben from drowning,” Mahlon countered. “Why are you conveniently forgetting that?”

  Anna placed two slices of bread on napkins. “Oh, my,” she said. “All this noise upsets Felty’s nerves.”

  “Why do you always blame everything on me, Banannie?”

  She handed Mahlon and Lizzie each a slice of the dark, lumpy-looking bread, cupped her hands around their elbows, and nudged them toward the front door. “I want you to go out on the porch to yell at each other. And take a big bite of bread before you go. You can’t win an argument on an empty stomach.”

  Mahlon stared at his slice as if it might bite him.

  “Go ahead, both of you,” Anna said. “Take a bite. You don’t want to offend me, do you?”

  Emma felt sorry for both of them. If Anna made the bread, it was as dry as chalk. Maybe that was her plan. If Lizzie and Mahlon both had their mouths full of dry, heavy bread, they might not be able to speak, let alone argue.

  Mahlon and Lizzie each took a bite of Anna’s bread, and she herded them out the door before they even had a chance to swallow. Anna shut the door and clapped her hands to dust them off. “Those two are so cute together,” she said.

  “What are you up to, Mammi?” Ben said.

  Mischievous lights danced in her eyes. “You’ll see.”

  Anna crouched and tiptoed to the window. Slowly lifting her head, she peeked over the top of the sill. “They’re still arguing,” she whispered, her eyes bright with anticipation.

  “Did you poison the bread?” Felty asked, as if such a thing happened frequently in the Helmuth house.

  “Now, Felty,” Anna said, not taking her eyes from the couple outside. “It’s a new recipe I made up. I want to see how they like it.”

  “A new recipe?” Emma asked.

  Anna nodded, still gazing out the window. “Jalapeño banana bread. It should be hot enough to make Lizzie cry her ey
es out. Boys can’t resist it when a girl cries.”

  “Lizzie doesn’t cry,” Ben said.

  With her gaze still glued out the window. Anna waved dismissively at her grandson. “She will. Those jalapeños are toxic.”

  “I love jalapeño banana bread,” Felty said.

  Emma cringed. Nothing sounded less appetizing, and she’d eaten enough of Anna’s cooking to know how bad it could get.

  “What’s happening out there, Annie Banannie?” Felty asked from his perch on the couch.

  “Maybe you shouldn’t spy on them, Mammi,” Ben said, always concerned about doing the right thing.

  “Well, dear, someone has to make sure they don’t start throwing eggs at each other.”

  Ben’s brows moved closer together. “They’ve got eggs?”

  “They’re both coughing. Mahlon is turning red. Oh, there it goes.” Anna turned to Felty, and her smile could have dazzled the sunshine. “Lizzie is crying.”

  Only Anna could make this sound like very good news. She turned back to the window. “Mahlon is patting her on the back. His face is glowing like he’s been out in the sun too long.”

  Ben looked at Mammi with a mixture of curiosity and guilt on his face. He pulled Emma to the sofa, and they sat next to Felty. “Maybe we should plug our ears,” Ben said. “I feel like we’re intruding on a personal conversation.”

  “Don’t worry, dear,” Anna assured him. “I can’t hear a thing.”

  “Have they eaten all the bread?” Felty said.

  “Lizzie tossed her piece on the grass. The chickens are picking at it.” Anna jerked her face away from the window. “That was close. Mahlon almost spotted me.” She stooped over so Mahlon and Lizzie wouldn’t see her and shuffled to the other side of the window, where she once again peeked out. “The chickens aren’t eating the bread anymore. It wonders me if they find it too spicy.”

  Ben chuckled and took Emma’s hand. “It’s like watching an exciting movie.”

  Anna flinched but didn’t turn her gaze from the window. “Oh, my. Oh, my goodness.”

  Emma sat on the edge of her seat as Anna fell silent. What was happening out there? Were they throwing dirt clods at each other?

  “Oh, my,” Anna said again. “This plan worked out better than even I could have hoped for.”