To Jesse’s surprise, the little guy bit his leg. Of course, what teeth he had were small, so Jesse barely felt the contact.
“Jacob!” his maemm scolded. “I told you not to do that.”
The child grinned mischievously and looked up eagerly at Jesse.
Jesse laughed.
Jacob’s mother threw her hands in the air in a helpless gesture. “I don’t know where he got that. There’s so much to teach them these days!”
Jesse threw Jacob up on his shoulders, and the child screamed with excitement. Stephen and Thomas, Gabriel’s boys, followed them, laughing and screaming as they stepped from room to room.
Finally, when Jesse put Jacob down, the two older boys begged him to tell them a story.
Jesse lifted a thoughtful brow as the boys looked up at him with pleading expressions on their faces.
“On one condition . . .”
They looked at him to go on.
“That you let me wash up first.”
When he returned to the dining room, the trio awaited him. Their eyes were wide with excitement. Jesse was fully aware that their expectations were high. Each time, his story was unique.
In their particular community, kids learned German first, and at about five years of age, they went on to learn English. Stephen and Thomas spoke English, and small Jacob seemed to already know quite a bit. With a wave of his hand, Jesse motioned them to make a circle around him on the dining room floor next to the table. He pulled a handwoven rug from nearby and they sat on it.
As always, he started in a low, serious voice, looking around the circle and meeting each boy’s gaze. After he started, he found himself recounting the story of him rescuing Anna in the storm, with a change of names, of course, to Hannah and David.
As he went on, he imagined himself back in the storm. “David and Hannah were on a farm when a big storm hit. Lightning bolts lit up the sky. The thunder was so loud, the ground jumped.”
The kids’ eyes grew larger, and they all looked at Jesse, waiting for him to go on.
“The rain was coming down so hard, David could barely see. Fierce winds blew debris through the air. All of a sudden, David heard a cry for help.”
The group was silent. The adults had stepped outside, and the room was so quiet, you could have heard a pin drop.
Jesse raised the pitch of his voice to an exciting tone. “As the wind blew dirt into David’s eyes, he followed the sound of the voice to a large tree limb that had cracked in the middle and had appeared to have stuck in the wet ground. He heard a scream.
“As he got closer, he saw Hannah trapped underneath. Her forehead was bleeding. As the rain continued to come down and the wind continued to blow, David used all his strength to lift Hannah and carry her into the barn, where they were both safe from the storm.”
A simultaneous sound came from their mouths. For emphasis, Jesse looked around the circle and again lowered his pitch. “Inside the barn, David lay her on a bale of straw and tended to her cut with a clean rag he’d found on a hook. But she’d been hurt pretty badly. And he knew that he couldn’t get her to the nearest emergency room by horse and buggy.”
After a long pause, he continued. “The cattle and horses in the back of the large barn made loud sounds when it thundered. I suppose they must’ve been scared. And Hannah’s face was white. He was worried. But soon, her color started returning to her face. And within a matter of time, he knew she was going to be okay.”
The questions started. “Did she still have to go to the doctor? Did they have to stay in the barn all night? Did her cut hurt? Did she cry?”
After answering their questions, Jesse narrowed his brows. The women came back inside, and his maemm pointed to the round kitchen wall clock. Jesse knew that meant to wind things up and get ready for dinner. Somehow, he needed to end the story with a line that would start his next one to keep the kids interested.
Finally, he smiled a little. “Hannah and David started talking. And before they both knew it, they’d become close friends. But to David’s surprise, there was something Hannah was hiding. It was something she made him promise not to tell.”
“Did he?”
Jesse nodded. “But you’d never believe what it was. It was a secret.”
* * *
He’s going to keep my secret. Early the next morning, Anna sighed with relief as she held on to the rail that led down the steep stairwell to the basement in her home. In the other hand, she carried an empty plastic container and a small flashlight that she aimed in front of her.
Last night, she had convinced her parents not to take her to a doctor. Even if the cut did leave a scar, it wouldn’t matter to her. Long bangs covered her injury. And anyhow, what did a little scar matter?
Halfway down the stairs, she stopped and smiled a little. Not because her contest dilemma was over; it certainly wasn’t. But at least nothing would set her back . . . yet. Because no one would hear about the event or her plan to enter it.
Each wooden step creaked as she put her weight down. As she walked, she was careful not to knock anything off the hooks placed above the rail. While she descended, she considered yesterday and her long conversation with Jesse.
If she won the contest, was there anything she could do to lessen the repercussions of the church community against her family?
To her left, she eyed the outside flower bed from the small window that allowed in a small amount of light. At least now she could sigh with relief that the bishop’s son wasn’t going to say anything.
She always tried to focus on the positive. On the fact that God protected her and her family. But to her dismay, she found herself imagining the hot gossip and what affect it would have on her parents. Anna King, turning into an Englischer.
She considered her longtime dream and frowned. Because amid the talk that she imagined, she was sure the true reason behind her entry would be sure to be overlooked. But how do you make others understand what’s in your heart? That not knowing where you came from is missing from your life and that you want to hold on to the one thing you know. Surely everyone must have a goal they think of the moment they wake up in the morning. Something that drives them to get out of bed.
As she took in the large potato bin and the four legs that supported it, she smiled a little and remembered her purpose. For some reason, the holder had always fascinated her. Not because there was anything fancy about it. In fact, that was hardly the case. If a person who’d never seen one glimpsed it, she was sure they would probably view the pile as a heap of unwashed vegetables. But to her, it was much more than that.
She grinned and quickly reasoned that it was due to the fact that potatoes were her second favorite garden produce, mashed with gravy. The way Maemm made them. They were just behind tomatoes.
And the vision of the bin created an image in her own mind of one very large crock of hot, buttery mashed potatoes. She enjoyed pulling the brown-skinned baking potatoes from the large holder that was supported by four sturdy legs.
Their dirt didn’t bother her. Of course, any produce dug from the ground would need to be cleaned. She would wash and peel each one in the kitchen sink.
She stepped closer to the bin and, using her flashlight, began selecting her potatoes. As always, she chose the largest first. Size was her most important criteria. Because the bigger the vegetable, the more bites.
One by one, she plucked each from the massive pile and began placing them into her large plastic container. As the weight became too much for one arm, she set the holder down next to the bin. And when the container filled, she used both hands to hold it and turned it toward the stairs.
As she did so, she barely glimpsed the side of the basement she was on. But she knew it by heart. She was only about a foot away from the old wringer she’d gotten her arm caught in once while trying to rid wet clothes of water. The days of getting thick towels through prompted a frown.
Things had changed a lot over the years. Now, most of the Amish in her area, in
cluding her and her mother, used air-powered washers. The Amish who lived close enough to town could tap into natural gas. Her home was too far out; still, their appliances, including the freezer to her right, ran off propane.
On her left, a long clothesline ran from one side of the wall to the other. Usually they hung wet garments outside, but when it rained, she and Maemm used the line downstairs.
Just around the corner, a small room housed shelves and shelves of quarts of canned tomatoes and other vegetables from the summer garden. They certainly didn’t waste any shelf space. Or unused vegetables. Already, she had plans to begin canning tomatoes in the next few days.
At the foot of the stairs, she adjusted her flashlight, the holder of potatoes in front of her, and started up, trying to stay as close to the rail as possible. Because the stairs were steep and a bit uneven due to the settling of the earth, she was extra cautious.
Upstairs, she pushed the unlatched door open with her right sturdy shoe and stopped, blinking and adjusting her vision to the vast adjustment from dark to bright sunlight that poured in through the large screened kitchen windows. With great care, she set the heavy container on the floor.
Maemm’s soft, concerned voice floated through the air. “Anna, I hope you got a good night’s sleep. They say nothing heals a wound faster than rest.”
Maemm stepped closer. “Hold still a moment. Let’s take a look at that jagged cut.”
As she took in Maemm’s narrowed brows, Anna closed her eyes to enjoy the reassurance of her mother’s affection.
“That was some accident. And I want you to know that I disagreed with your daed about stitches. He insisted you didn’t need them. And I guess he was right. By the looks of that cut, it seems to be healing just fine without them. How long do you think you were on the ground before Jesse came along?”
Anna thought about the question and shrugged. “I’m not sure.”
After Anna picked up the potatoes and carried the container to the tiled countertop, she hugged her maemm.
Firmness edged her mother’s voice. “What’s important is that you’re okay.”
“God looks after me.” Anna leaned forward with her elbows on the countertop to look out of the window. “The storm did quite a bit of damage.”
Her mother smiled a little. “Jah. To be honest, though, your daed was relieved there’s not more to repair.” As her mother ran a feather duster over the knob of the silverware drawer, she shook her head and lowered her voice so Anna could barely hear her.
“Material things?” She shrugged before planting her palms affectionately on Anna’s shoulders. “They don’t matter. But human beings?” She closed her eyes a moment before continuing. “We’re God’s creation. He designed each and every one of us. In His eyes, we’re all masterpieces.” She stopped and let out a sigh. “Can you imagine being so special that He counted every hair on our heads? Chose our eye color?”
For a moment, Anna took in the comments that she knew to be true. And the amazement never ceased to take her breath away. Although she’d always known that God had made each and every person unique, the special emphasis her mother put on the hairs and eyes added even more appreciation and awe.
Her maemm continued working with her duster as she moved onto the other cabinets. “Just listen to me ramble on. What I’ve been trying to say is that you’re okay. And that’s what matters. And Jesse Beiler?”
Anna listened.
“We surely owe him a good dinner.”
Chapter Three
Later that afternoon, as Jesse worked in the barn where he and Anna had gotten to know each other quickly, he couldn’t get Paul and Naomi King’s tochter off his mind. Or her plan. She must really want her dream, to risk so much. He shook his head and tried to focus on what needed to be done.
And thanks to the storm, there was plenty to do. He welcomed the opportunity to work for the Kings. Especially to farm the acres behind their house.
From childhood, he’d always planned on being a farmer. On owning enough land to put food on the table for the family he would have. Unfortunately, land prices were high.
That was why a lot of his church friends found themselves doing other jobs, like welding. Cabinetry. Still, he had faith that God would help him to one day have his own farm. Just like Anna had faith that God would help her to win that scholarship.
And this job offered him an opportunity to save more money. He’d had a savings account since he was a kid. He smiled a little as he thought of the large family he’d sit down with every night for dinner. I have a dream, just like Anna. In that way, we’re alike. Only our wants couldn’t be further apart.
The humidity from the rain was high. Jesse caught a bead of sweat that rolled down his neck. He pulled in a determined breath and hoisted a bag of oats over his shoulder. Careful steps took him into the barn, where he lined up the bag with those he’d already placed neatly against a wall.
As a gentle breeze moved in through the two large, open doors, he stopped to roll up his shirt sleeves and offered a prayer of thanks for all he had. Life was a blessing. And everything good came from God.
All through the day, his time with Anna floated through his thoughts. He’d heard that with Anna’s convincing, Paul had decided a visit to the doctor hadn’t been necessary. Jesse lifted a skeptical brow as he recalled the wound.
The smell of oats and other grains filled his nostrils. From his peripheral vision, he glimpsed a rat stealing a morsel before disappearing under the structure. He chased it, but it had slipped away.
His mind drifted back to Anna, and how he’d learned so much about her yesterday in just a short time. He found it amusing that she’d believed her artistic talent had been a secret. Yet, thanks to his seat right behind her in school, he’d been aware of it for years.
As he swatted away a fly, he acknowledged that the bold print above the contest entry had been easy to absorb. He took a quick step back so a goat could get by him. Behind him, two smaller ones played with a rag.
As he proceeded to the barn’s side to pull a broom from a hook on the wall, thoughtful steps took him back to the area where he’d started. He began sweeping loose grain into a pile and continued to line up the bags in a neat row.
But as he swept the kernels to his right, to his surprise, his mind lingered on the paper that had escaped Anna’s clutches. And the more he considered the entry, the deeper his frown became.
At the same time, he was fairly certain that Anna was fully aware of what winning this particular contest would bring; that was, if she won.
He considered her strong faith and her obvious talent. Between the two, it doesn’t matter how little formal training she’s had. She’s talented and more determined than anyone I’ve ever met. Her faith is strong, and she prays for God’s help. How can she not win?
His brows narrowed as he wondered if she’d actually given thought to what she’d do after she won. If she wins, then what? Will she move to St. Louis? Something like that can’t happen without a lot of planning. What will she tell her parents? Her fellow churchgoers? And how will they react to her plans? Especially my daed?
His heart sank. His pulse picked up to a nervous speed. All the while, he was fully aware that he’d committed to keeping Anna’s secret. Because of his promise, it didn’t matter that his daed was the bishop. A secret was a secret. And a promise was a promise. And he’d been raised to respect both.
The ear-piercing sound of a rake sliding over concrete made him turn. When he opened his eyes, he glimpsed Anna on the opposite side of the large structure, cleaning the horse stalls.
Automatically, the corners of his lips lifted. He was glad to see her. He reasoned that it was because of her injury, and that he felt a strong need to protect her. To check on how she was feeling.
He propped his broom against the wall, shoved his hands into his pockets with his thumbs looping over the top, and made his way to her. While he traversed to the opposite side, her back was to him, and he took advantag
e of the opportunity to observe her. The ease at which she seemed to move the rake back and forth.
The Amish women he knew worked extremely hard. Some specialized in baking and other tasks that were more “indoor” things. But from what he knew about Anna, she preferred the “outdoor” chores, and there were plenty of them. She certainly wasn’t afraid of getting her hands dirty.
He’d seen her plenty of times cleaning up in the bakery, too. And at church, she helped with small children. He’d really never looked at her as a woman, but now, as he glimpsed her alone in the barn, he took in her fit figure. He was fully aware that raking and spreading straw took stamina.
Again, he contemplated what winning the contest would mean to Anna. He didn’t want to borrow trouble, but he was fairly certain she would have to permanently separate from the Amish faith.
Their church didn’t really push for higher education unless it was something like local night classes for a GED. For the jobs they did, there was no need to pursue other degrees. They certainly weren’t against education, but they discouraged exposure to temptations that might make them leave the faith.
His curious nature made him want to ask Anna more about it, but his maemm had always taught him to mind his own business. And in this case, he didn’t want to appear nosy.
With a gentle motion, he took her rake. “I’ll do that for you.”
She startled, and the wooden handle fell from her hands. With a swift reaction, he caught it.
As he did so, she tried to save it from falling, too, and his hands covered hers. Her jaw dropped as she turned to him.
As their gazes locked, he glimpsed surprise in the large green depths. Long, thick lashes hovered over them, and wisps of jet-black hair had escaped her kapp and clung to her flushed cheeks. For a moment, he was so close to her, he paid special attention to the small beauty mark underneath her right eye that he’d noted yesterday.
“How’s that cut?”
“Here.” She smiled at him and eagerly lifted the hair from her forehead. “Look for yourself.”
Love at Pebble Creek Page 4