Huckleberry Hill

by Jennifer Beckstrand

  “Okay,” Moses said, searching the room for his crutches. “I’ll have a piece of pie.”

  The corners of Mammi’s mouth turned down. “Oh, dear. Lia told me she made a pie for you, so we finished the other three. Sorry. The pies are all.”

  Moses huffed the air out of his lungs. “I suppose I should have expected that.”

  “Max had three pieces.”

  Of course Max had three pieces.

  And Moses had none.

  It had been an eventful day. He had gotten a cast put on, offended Rachel, and decided he finally wanted to get married. He had picked huckleberries, watched Lia ride away with his cousin, and realized that he loved her more than anyone ever loved before.

  And he had still never tasted a piece of Lia Shetler’s pie.

  The house was dark, except for the lantern hissing on the table in the hallway, and quiet, except for the sniffling coming from Moses’s recently vacated room. Felty tapped softly on the door. “Could I come in?”

  He heard soft footsteps, and then Rachel cracked her door open. She made no secret that she had been crying. The tears glistened on her cheeks and her nose was moist and red. “I’m cleaning my shoe.”

  “I can help,” Felty said.

  Peering at him from under hooded eyes, Rachel opened the door wider and stepped back. Felty walked into the room towing a chair behind him. He placed the chair facing the bed and sat on it, breathless from dragging the thing from the kitchen. He felt his eighty-plus years more every day.

  Rachel stared at him in puzzlement, clutching her light brown leather shoe in one hand and a damp towel in the other. The towel was already smeared purple with berry stains, but the shoe didn’t look any closer to being clean. Felty didn’t want to discourage her, but that shoe would never be the same. It would probably be easier to dip the other one into a huckleberry pie of its own. At least then she’d have a matching pair.

  “Is Lia back yet?” Rachel asked, although she didn’t seem particularly interested in the answer.

  “Nae. You know how long babies can take sometimes.”

  “Jah, I’ve slept on one too many sofas.”

  Felty held out his hand, and after some hesitation, Rachel gave him the shoe and the rag. He laid the shoe in his lap and began rubbing it vigorously. His efforts weren’t going to make a bit of difference, but at least Rachel would see that he cared.

  Rachel slumped her shoulders and plopped onto the bed. “If Lia hadn’t been showing off with that ver-y spec-ial pie, this never would have happened. She’s always trying to make me look deerich.”

  Felty dropped the shoe and rag into his lap, reached over, and patted Rachel on the knee. He tried to make his expression kindly as he pinned Rachel with an intense gaze. “Rachel, you’re a gute . . . a kind . . .” He cleared his throat. “You’re a pretty little girl, and you and I are soon going to be related.”

  Rachel lifted her eyebrows and seemed to perk up a bit. “Related?”

  “Can I give you some advice as if you was my own granddaughter?”

  Rachel dabbed the tears from her face and exploded into a toothy grin. “I knew Moses must be teasing. Did he tell you he wants to marry me?”

  Felty sighed and held up his hand to halt Rachel’s overactive imagination. “Not you, Rachel. Moses is not going to marry you.”

  Suddenly cross, Rachel pursed her lips and folded her arms. “It won’t be Lia, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  Felty, not one to lose his temper, made his voice soft and comforting. “You’re a wonderful-pretty girl, Rachel. Your hair’s a pretty color and your eyes look as blue as the afternoon sky. It wonders me why someone as pretty as you wouldn’t want to be pretty on the inside. The Lord doesn’t see your outward appearance. The Lord looketh on the heart.”

  Rachel waved her hand in dismissal. “That’s just a Bible verse to make ugly people feel better.”

  “But not you?”

  “The good Lord made me pretty for a reason. Queen Esther was pretty, and she saved her people.”

  “You are no Queen Esther,” Felty said.

  Rachel studied Felty and nibbled her bottom lip. “I’m pretty on the outside. And on the inside.”

  “Pretty is as pretty does.”

  “I hardly left Moses’s side for weeks. I served him food and kept him company. I went with him to the doctor and helped him make cheese. I’ve been an angel. What do you expect from me?”

  “But how have you treated Lia—your own flesh and blood? And what about those boys who asked for your hand in marriage?”

  Rachel looked down at her hands. “They didn’t deserve—”

  “Everyone deserves to be treated with kindness. Did you tend to Moses out of the goodness of your heart or because you want a handsome husband? Or maybe you want to steal Moses because Lia likes him. A girl who is pretty on the inside would not do something so cruel to her sister.”

  “I’m not like that,” Rachel protested. “I try to protect Lia from getting her feelings hurt, that’s all. Some sisters wouldn’t even care. I’ve always been good to Lia. Just ask her.”

  Felty stroked his beard and then leaned closer and took Rachel’s hand. She resisted at first but then relaxed. Her expression softened, and she appeared at least willing to listen.

  “I know you have it in you to be a gute, sweet girl—the kind of girl Moses would want. But you haven’t shown it yet.”

  He could see the wheels turning in Rachel’s head. Maybe he was getting through to her. “What . . . what kind of girl does Moses want?”

  “A godly man wants a gute and generous woman who thinks more about others than she does about herself—someone who never speaks guile and treats others as Jesus would treat them.”

  Rachel pulled from his grasp. She balled her hands into fists and pressed down on the mattress. Tears pooled in her eyes and threatened to run down her cheeks. “What more can I do? I’ve tried everything to make Moses love me.”

  “My dear, you need to practice kindness before you even think about getting a husband. Follow Lia’s example. She never thinks of herself.”

  Rachel burst into frustrated tears. Felty patted her leg comfortingly as she cried.

  “All I hear is Lia this and Lia that. It was never like this at home. I’m the favorite.”

  Felty stifled a snort. He’d met Rachel’s dat. Of course Rachel was the favorite.

  “Despite what you think, Lia is not a better cook than me,” Rachel said between sobs. “And I’m so much prettier. Why does Moses like her better?”

  “Because she is pretty on the inside.”

  Rachel started to protest, but instead she leaned back on her hands and fell silent.

  Gute. Maybe she was giving his advice a chance to sink in.

  Rachel sat up straight, sniffed once, and blinked the tears from her eyes. “So I need to be more like Lia? Nicer?”

  “Jah,” Felty said. “More like Lia.”

  Felty could see a light go on as a wonderful idea struck Rachel. She glanced at Felty before closing her eyes and massaging the side of her face with her dainty fingers. “Would you take me to the market tomorrow to call my dat? I think I need to go home.”

  Felty nodded. “Just what the doctor ordered. We’ll go first thing in the morning.”

  Rachel pulled a tissue from her pocket and mopped up her face. “You’ll see. I’ll be better than Lia. I know I can be the kind of wife Moses wants.”

  “That’s a gute girl.” Holding out Rachel’s shoe, Felty stood and raised his eyebrows sympathetically. “I am afraid your shoe will never be clean. Huckleberries stain everything.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Rachel said, taking her purple shoe from Felty. “At least I’ve learned a lesson.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Lia rolled on her back and stretched her legs, luxuriating in the feel of her soft bed. Two weeks of sleeping on the floor because Rachel needed the bed had taken a toll on Lia’s lower back.

  She lifted
her head from the pillow and promptly lowered it. Sleeping during the day always left her feeling groggy. By the bright light streaming through her tiny window, Lia determined it must be after noon. Well past time to get up. Her chores wouldn’t do themselves, and Rachel certainly wouldn’t have done them.

  Lia took a deep breath and shook her head. She would have to bury her jealousy and quit this nasty habit of thinking poorly of Rachel. It wasn’t Rachel’s fault that Moses liked her.

  Lia had stayed up all night helping Sarah with the delivery. She and Ben had arrived at the Kings’ house a little after five in the early evening. After a couple of hours, when it looked like the baby was in no hurry to arrive, Lia had sent Ben home, promising to contact him if she needed anything.

  Ben Helmuth was almost as handsome and as tall as his cousin Moses. Lia knew she would always prefer Moses, but it felt so nice to have someone pay her a little attention. Eventually she would have to learn to see Moses without thinking about how much she loved him, and if boys like Ben could help, then all the better.

  The baby had finally come early this morning, and the new father paid a driver to take Lia home. Bone-tired, she had arrived at Huckleberry Hill in time to say good morning to Anna and Felty and stumble wearily down the hall for some sleep. It was a bittersweet surprise when she found her room empty. It meant Rachel slept in the big room again and Lia could have her bed back, but it also meant that Moses had gone home. She should have been ecstatic. It was less painful when he wasn’t around.

  A succession of loud raps at the door startled her, motivating her to sit up. Without waiting for an invitation, Rachel blew into the room with that smug smile that meant she was about to get her way. “I’m back.”

  Lia began unraveling her braid. “Where have you been?”

  “It’s one thirty. Don’t you think you should get up, lazybones?”

  With her waist-length hair free from its braid, Lia brushed it before rebraiding it and fashioning it into a bun at the back of her head. “Jah, I need to get supper started.”

  “Anna is making supper tonight from her new cookbook. I’m praying I’m not hungry because it will, like as not, taste terrible. They took me to the market this morning, and Anna bought stuff called couscous.”

  “It’s a Mideastern food.”

  “She’s going to mix it with turnips and cinnamon. Cin-na-mon. So I ate a big dinner.” Rachel walked deliberately to the chest of drawers and ran her finger over the top as if checking for dust. “They have a phone at the market.”

  When Lia made no attempt to grasp the significance of this news, Rachel added, “I called Dat.”

  Rachel called Dat? She must really be upset about something. Well, it couldn’t be Lia’s latest midwifing trip. Lia had left Moses behind too. “What did he say?”

  “He doesn’t stand by the phone shack and wait for calls. I left a message.”

  Lia felt too tired to grill Rachel on the reason she had called Dat. A letter of chastisement would probably arrive in a couple of days, and then Lia would know what all the fuss was about. Today, she was too beaten down by Rachel’s fits of temper to care very much. Rachel turned and looked at her with a knowing glint in her eye. Lia merely changed the subject.

  “Moses must have gone home last night.”

  Rachel pursed her lips and glared at Lia. “You-have-got to get over this in-fat-u-ation with Moses.”

  “What . . . what are you talking about?”

  “You’re embarrassing yourself,” Rachel snapped. “Can’t you see how awkward it is for him? You make him pies and write him notes and simper whenever he’s within ten feet. He doesn’t know how to make you quit bothering him.”

  Lia felt her face get hot. She had tried to guard her emotions, but if self-centered Rachel suspected something, perhaps her feelings weren’t as secret as she hoped.

  The more Rachel talked, the more agitated she became. Her voice rose, and her syllables grew farther and farther apart. “Do you know what happened to that pie you made for him? It ended up on the floor. On-the-floor. The stain won’t come out of the wood. It’s got to stop, Lia.”

  Lia refused to let Rachel see her cry—pretty and petite Rachel, who had the love of the one man Lia would never get over. Rachel always got what she wanted, but she would not have the satisfaction of humiliating Lia today. She’d keep her self-respect if it was the last thing she did.

  Lia held her breath and bit her tongue to keep from crying while she positioned her kapp and pinned it into her hair. She didn’t look at Rachel and didn’t risk saying anything until she could do it with composure. She forced her thoughts outdoors to the huckleberry patch where she and Moses had picked yesterday. No, best not go there. She thought of Sarah and the Millers’ new baby, but Lia couldn’t help but remember who first introduced her to Sarah. The day at the auction was one of the happiest of her life.

  Lia cleared her mind and thought of fishing. She’d been fishing with her dat a time or two. Fishing was boring and had no strong emotions connected with it. Fishing. She thought of fishing.

  Lia pinned her apron and then sat on the bed and donned her shoes and stockings.

  Dat caught a very big fish once in Alpine Lake. It weighed ten pounds.

  Rachel folded her arms across her chest and stared at Lia, obviously rejoicing in her conquest with Moses. Why didn’t she go away? She had her own room. Why did she have to come take up space in Lia’s?

  Rachel didn’t seem inclined to leave anytime soon, so Lia slid past her and made her way to the kitchen where she hoped she would see Anna’s friendly face. At least Anna loved her.

  Anna did not disappoint. She looked up from her cookbook and erupted into a smile as genuine as it was wide. “There you are. Did you get enough sleep? I’d hate to see you get all worn out.”

  Rachel followed Lia into the kitchen, probably hoping to see her burst into tears yet.

  Lia finally felt calm enough to speak. “I came to see if I could help you with supper.”

  “Always so thoughtful. How did the delivery go last night?”

  “Very gute. A baby girl for the Kings. Their second. Labor took all night, but Lila did not have too bad a time of it.”

  “Did Ben drive you back?”

  “When I saw it would take most of the night, I sent him home. A driver brought me home this morning.”

  Anna clutched her cookbook to her chest. “Ben, he is such a gute boy, but he hasn’t learned how things are done. Moses would have stayed the night to wait for you.”

  Jah, Moses would have waited.

  Luckily, Lia had her back turned to Rachel. The tears escaped from her eyes, and she had no power to stop them.

  Anna’s expression didn’t change as she looked past Lia to Rachel. “Rachel,” she said, bustling around Lia. “I need to show you the special wood soap I want you to use on your floor.”

  “It’s already clean,” Rachel said.

  Lia didn’t look, but in her mind’s eye she could imagine Anna taking Rachel firmly by the elbow. “It’s not clean enough, especially in the hall. Cum, and I will show you.”

  Their footsteps faded down the hall. Lia snatched four tissues from the box by Felty’s chair and mopped up her face thoroughly. Then she splashed cold water on her cheeks so not even a hint of crying would be visible.

  Thank you, Anna!

  Usually, standing at the kitchen sink she saw anyone who came to the door, but this time she must have been drying the water from her face. The forceful knock took her by surprise. Before Lia could even hang up the towel, Rachel sprinted from the hallway and swung the door open.

  Dat.

  Dat, with a seriously dismal frown on his face.

  Rachel had only called him that morning. He must have rushed to Bonduel as soon as he got her message. Rachel probably sounded desperately urgent on the phone. Lia’s heart sank. Dat’s presence could only mean one thing.

  He didn’t even take the time to say hello. “You are coming home with me, L
ia. Get your things.”

  Anna bustled into the kitchen and plastered on the fake smile she used when she was especially peeved. “I planned on her staying for at least six more weeks.”

  “I’m sorry, Anna, but Lia is needed at home.”

  Anna squared her shoulders and did one of the nicest things anyone had ever done for Lia. She took Rachel by the elbow and nudged her toward Dat. “Take Rachel instead. Lia has important midwife work to do.”

  Rachel’s mouth fell open. “I have important work here too.”

  Dat shook his head. “We need Lia to help with the canning and cooking, and we must teach her obedience. She too often disregards her parents’ wishes.”

  Lia’s anger at the injustice of it all filled every space in her body, and for the first time in her life, she lashed out at her dat. “Why did you let me come to Bonduel in the first place if you need me so badly at home?”

  “We thought it would be gute for you to go away for a few months, grow up a little.”

  Lia took deliberate breaths as she willed herself to calm down. Jesus said, “He who is angry with his brother is in danger of judgment.” Knowing she would regret any words she spoke in anger, she said a quick prayer of repentance. Taking pity on the father who didn’t have enough room in his heart to love his oldest daughter, she softened her tone. “You wanted to get me out of the way so boys could court Rachel without her older sister towering over them.”

  Thinking that she might have scared off potential boyfriends made Lia want to shake her head in disbelief. Why were boys so intimidated by a tall girl?

  She loved being tall. She didn’t use to, but now she did. And some boys didn’t mind her height so much.

  She shouldn’t have thought of Moses. The memories made it harder to leave.

  But, really, wouldn’t it be better if she were gone? She wouldn’t be forced to watch Moses and Rachel flaunt their love, and she would be away from everything that reminded her of him—the Scrabble game waiting on the table, Anna’s knitted pot holders, Sarah Beachy’s strong chin, Huckleberry Hill itself.