Huckleberry Hill

by Jennifer Beckstrand

  Moses grinned at scowling Rachel and took the envelope even as he scooted backward out of the house.

  “Denki, Mammi.”

  “Keep your eye out for license plates,” Dawdi called.

  “Wautoma gets more traffic.”

  By the time Moses hopped down the stairs, Rachel found her voice. “Go ahead,” she yelled, “make a fool of yourself.” She slammed the door so hard the front window rattled. It was a good thing Moses had installed that glass nice and tight.

  With no intention of waiting one more minute to read his letter, Moses rolled to the buggy and leaned against it. The letter could mean the realization of all his hopes. Maybe Lia had wanted to tell him how she felt before her father carted her back to Wautoma.

  If Moses was sure of Lia’s affection, he could go to Wautoma with less trepidation.

  Eagerly, he tore open the blank envelope and pulled out the card, written on the same stationery Lia had used for her note to him three days ago.

  Moses,

  I wanted to write a quick note of thanks for all you have done for me while I’ve been on Huckleberry Hill. Thank you for driving me all over the county and introducing me to Sarah and eating my meatballs. You have meant so much to me, and I will always remember my summer on Huckleberry Hill as the best time of my life.

  Lia

  P.S. We are friends, but I don’t love you.

  Moses stumbled over the last line as if the words had tripped him. He read it again. And again. Forgetting his surroundings, he crumpled the letter into his fist and stood by his buggy, paralyzed by the thoughts whipping about in his head like sand in a dust devil.

  We are friends, but I don’t love you.

  This had to be a trick. Surely this was a trick by Rachel or her fater. Lia wouldn’t say such a thing in a letter.

  Moses opened his fist and studied the handwriting. It was Lia’s, all right. No one else curled the tails of her y’s and g’s like Lia did.

  Still, it could be a trick. Perhaps her dat forced her to write it, hoping Moses would turn his attention to Rachel.

  With growing dread, Moses reread the note. As far as he knew, he and Lia were the only two who knew about the meatballs. There was no reason she would include that bit of information if her dat had insisted she write it.

  He didn’t want to believe she wrote it. It would mean he had no hope left.

  He pressed his fist to his chest to keep his dreams from shattering into a million pieces.

  Shutting his eyes, he thought of Barbara—so young and pretty. He’d fallen in love with her enthusiasm. Her quitting the community was, to Moses, like dying by degrees. He sensed her withdrawal from him a little more every day, and he’d felt powerless to do anything but watch her go.

  Her leaving had cut deep. Even three years ago, he probably knew without saying that she would not return, but he held on to the hope because he didn’t want to deal with the crushing pain. He’d been such a coward—recoiling from what Barbara might do and afraid of being hurt—that he’d let her drag it out.

  Everybody knew that it was easier to rip a bandage from the skin rather than prolong the pain by peeling it back slowly and deliberately.

  He should have let Barbara go. He would have gotten over the pain and been ready to sweep Lia off her feet when she finally came into his life.

  Too late he’d realized how much he loved Lia and how little he had shown it.

  Moses glanced at the house. Rachel stood at the window, smiling and waving as if she hadn’t just slammed the door in rage.

  With a sinking heart and no idea what to do next, Moses shoved his scooter into his horseless buggy and grabbed his crutches. He shouldn’t have unhitched the horse.

  He would go home.

  Moses halted in his tracks.

  Go home and wallow in self-pity for three more years?

  Suddenly he saw himself more clearly than he ever had before. He’d been using Barbara as a crutch. A crutch so he wouldn’t actually have to face rejection and heartache and life. Moses looked at the crutches tucked under his arms. It was time to quit hiding behind his fears and be a man.

  He couldn’t lose Lia.

  He refused to lose her.

  For God has not given us the spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind.

  Moses had the power to seek for God’s will and do it. The power to go to Lia and prove himself to her.

  He could think and act for himself instead of accepting the role of a victim. He’d played that part with Barbara. Never again would he excuse himself for someone else’s choices. He had his own choices to make.

  His love for Lia almost overpowered his ability to think straight. He wouldn’t throw that love away simply because of a little discouragement from her. With every ounce of his strength, he would fight for her. He’d fight harder than he’d ever fought for anything in his life.

  With more resolve than he had ever been able to muster with Barbara, Moses made up his mind.

  And if he couldn’t make Lia love him, then he’d accept the pain as God’s will.

  But at least he had to try.

  By wildly swinging his crutches in front of him, Moses rushed to the barn for the horse. Once the horse was out of the stall, Moses abandoned his crutches and on one foot, hitched Sammy into place. He had no time to waste maneuvering with his clunking crutches.

  As he leaped into his buggy, Rachel emerged from the house with her lips forced into that weird smile. She must not have been mad at him anymore. That girl could change moods faster than a bat could change directions in flight.

  “Have you decided against going to Wautoma?” Rachel said sweetly.

  Moses didn’t even look at her as he jiggled the reins and got Sammy going. “What I do is none of your business.”

  Undeterred, Rachel kept her smile in place as she waved and yoo-hooed and chased the buggy halfway down the hill.

  Anna and Felty stood on the porch and watched Moses practically race down the hill in his newfangled buggy. They grinned as Rachel jogged next to the buggy waving to Moses until he went too fast for her to keep up.

  “Persistence is that girl’s best quality,” Anna said.

  Felty put his arm around Anna. “Well, Annie Banannie, you got what you wanted. Moses is miserable. Absolutely miserable.”

  Anna smiled smugly. “Of course he is. Nothing makes a man more miserable than thinking he’s lost a girl he should have married months ago.”

  “And it’s all your doing.”

  “Thank you for the compliment, but I can’t take all the credit. You allowed Lia to come live with us.”

  “And now they’re both miserable.”

  Anna patted Felty’s hand. “They love each other. Moses will put things right eventually. But I hope it doesn’t take him too long. I’d like to get rid of Rachel by maple syrup time.”

  Chuckling softly, Felty hugged Anna tightly and gave her a big kiss. “Maple syrup time.”

  They held each other and listened to the birds chatter in the trees as Rachel hiked back up the lane.

  “Do you remember David Eicher’s daughter Lily?” Anna said.

  “A sweet little girl, for sure.”

  “Wouldn’t she be just the thing for our grandson Aden?”

  Felty groaned and squeezed Anna tighter. “Don’t you start, Banannie. Don’t you start.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Perhaps the cumbersome cast was God’s way of telling Moses to take his time, to take action only after careful thought. The cast and scooter were certainly teaching him patience. He wanted to be by Lia’s side right now, immediately, flirting with her, gazing at her beautiful features, cajoling her into loving him.

  Moses’s heart skipped a beat. The thought that she might never love him sent his heart plummetting to his toes. Moses shook his head. He wouldn’t bend his imagination in that direction. It only made him feel worse.

  That’s why he’d brought his backpack. He might have to be in Wautoma
for several months, because he wouldn’t leave without a fight. He’d do whatever it took to win Lia’s love.

  Roy Polter carried Moses’s backpack to the Shetlers’ front porch while Moses hopped up the steps with his scooter.

  “I’ll go make some deliveries and be back here in two hours,” Roy said.

  “I don’t know if I’ll be going home tonight.”

  “Will you be spending the night here?”

  Moses surveyed his surroundings. Not another house in sight besides the Shetlers’ place. “If I’m not welcome here, I might find a nice field to camp in.”

  Roy grimaced. “Let’s hope you don’t get rained on.”

  “Rain’s the least of my worries.”

  With the way Moses’s life seemed to be going, Lia’s dat would probably answer the door and refuse to let him see Lia. Then Moses would spend the next three months living under some bridge subsisting on berries and roots, waiting for a chance to catch a glimpse of the woman he loved.

  He pictured himself sneaking around Lia’s house in the middle of the night and rapping on the windows until he found the one with Lia behind it. Moses smiled to himself. He remembered stealing around Mammi and Dawdi’s house and knocking on the bathroom window in hopes that Rachel wouldn’t see him. He wasn’t sure why he had picked the bathroom window that day, except that Rachel didn’t clean bathrooms, and Lia was more likely to be the one who discovered him.

  Moses squared his shoulders and knocked on the door. No fear. Love gave him power to face whatever might come.

  To Moses’s relief, not Lia’s dat, but a middle-aged woman, a remarkable copy of Rachel, answered the door. Sparse strands of gray mingled with her golden hair, and she stood even a little shorter than her youngest daughter. She wore a pale blue calf-length dress without a bertha. Her eyes, punctuated with shallow wrinkles, were Rachel’s, except that their lake blue depth revealed kindness instead of disdain.

  She looked up and smiled at him as if he were an old friend instead of a stranger.

  Moses stuck out his hand. “Hullo. I am—”

  “Jah, you are Moses Zimmerman. I would know you anywhere. You are as tall and handsome as they say. Please come in. You are very welcome in our home.”

  She held the door open for him and Moses rolled into the front room, feeling more than a little anxious.

  “My name is Eliza. I am Rachel’s mamm.” She motioned for him to sit, but he was too agitated to relax.

  “Nae, denki. I can stand.”

  “I heard how you broke your leg. Rachel wrote that she almost fainted.”

  “So did I.” Despite his distress, Moses tried to appear easy and carefree, even if at any minute they kicked him out of the house.

  “I suppose you are wanting to talk to my husband.”

  No, anything but that.

  Eliza’s eyes danced, and she seemed to burst with excitement. “Rachel wrote weeks ago to expect you.”

  Moses squirmed. Spending a week on Barbara’s roller coaster would be more pleasant than this. Eliza thought he came here to ask her husband’s permission to marry Rachel. All three were about to be very disappointed.

  He’d be tossed out by supper for sure.

  “I came to see Lia. Is she home?” The inviting aroma of homemade bread wafted from the kitchen. Jah, Lia must be here.

  Eliza’s countenance fell and a look of puzzlement flitted across her face. “Are you sure? I can go fetch Owen.”

  “Nae, I’d like to talk to Lia.”

  “Lia is out to the barn.” Still unsure, Eliza pointed to the back of the house. “You can go through the mudroom.”

  “Denki,” Moses said, rolling his scooter awkwardly down the hall.

  Eliza called after him. “Owen will be home from work in a few hours, but I will fetch him early for you.”

  “No need,” Moses said.

  “And you must stay for supper.”

  Moses didn’t reply. If Lia rejected him, no one would want him to stay for supper, including himself.

  Lia accidentally clanked the bucket of oats against a pole in the barn and spilled half its contents onto the cement floor. “Blast!” She seemed to be growing clumsier with every passing hour. Why couldn’t she snap out of her gloom?

  She’d been home less than three days, and she moped around as if her life were the most tedious in the world. Why had she ever left Wautoma? Before she met Moses, she had been perfectly content to live her perfectly dull life.

  Things in Wautoma carried on as if she had never gone away. Mamm gladly turned the meal preparation over to Lia, and all her regular chores waited for her. The only change was Rachel’s absence, so there was no talk of gatherings or singeons or potential husbands. Her mamm had spent all her enthusiasm on Rachel and never had an inkling that Lia might be interested in such things.

  And Lia wasn’t interested. She loved Moses. Why spend time with any other boy?

  Lia sighed as she brushed the fallen oats into a pile with her foot. Who else would think of her height as an advantage? Who else would buy her a book because he knew how pleased she would be? She remembered the pained but good-humored look on Moses’s face as he popped the first, then the second, and then the fifth of Lia’s scorching-hot meatballs into his mouth. She thought of his bright red scarf and the time they stood under the trees and he compared their heights. It had been then that Lia knew he was something special. A man to admire. A man she couldn’t help but love.

  Moses, so unselfish and eager to make everyone happy, had struggled to be plain about his feelings for Rachel. He must have sensed that Lia was fond of him and didn’t want to hurt her feelings. Rachel had said as much.

  I am grateful that I have arms to help Dat with the chores. I am grateful that I can be such a blessing to my parents when all their other children have left them. I am grateful that Rachel has found a gute husband so the boys will no longer get their hearts broken by my insensitive sister.

  Dear Lord, I shouldn’t have used the word “insensitive.” Rachel cannot help that she is pretty any more than I can help that I am tall. Moses can’t help that he loves Rachel instead of me. And I cannot help that I love Moses more than I could ever love anybody else.

  Lia snatched the broom from the hook and swept the oats in earnest. She must convince Fater to let her study midwifing again. These menial tasks left her mind free to wander where she did not want it to go.

  “What a gute sweeper you are!”

  Lia heard that voice in her dreams every night. Try as she might, she couldn’t prevent her heart from leaping into her throat and her hands from shaking at the sight of him.

  Moses smiled tentatively. She adored that smile as she adored Moses. Hopelessly, without reason, and forever.

  Her lips curled automatically just being near him, and she swept with such vigor that the oats in her pile went flying in every direction. “I thought you didn’t like my sweeping.”

  Gripping the handles of his scooter, Moses studied her face. “I have always loved the way you sweep. I wish you would come sweep at my house. It’s very dusty.”

  He rolled farther into the barn on that clunky scooter with one wheel that squeaked. She couldn’t place the expression on his face. Fear? Uncertainty? Sheer panic?

  Lia peered out the open barn door. “Is Rachel with you?”

  Moses pressed his lips into a hard line. Had she said something to upset him? “Nae. I came to see you. You left while I was in Minneapolis. I didn’t get to say good-bye.”

  Lia’s heart fluttered like a butterfly. “You came all this way to say good-bye?”

  “I’d rather not say good-bye. I want you to come back to Huckleberry Hill.”

  Sorrow pressed its heavy hand on her chest. “You don’t mean that, Moses. You know it is better if I am away.”

  A shadow passed across Moses’s face. “Mammi gave me your letter.”

  “I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable.” Lia stood up straight and gave Moses a relatively convincing smi
le. “But you need not worry. I am happy here, and I wish you all the best.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Rachel says I am making a fool of myself. I’m determined not to be a bother to you ever again.”

  Moses scowled and scooted closer. She wished he wouldn’t. He smelled like newly oiled leather. Manly and irresistible. “You have never, ever, been a bother to me.”

  “Why should you have to humor the troublesome older sister when it’s plain as day that you love Rachel?”

  His scowl deepened until it looked to be permanently etched into his face. “Is it?”

  Lia lowered her eyes and stared faithfully at her pile of oats. “I’d just be in the way.”

  “Lia, look at me,” Moses said with a determined edge to his voice. “What makes you think I love Rachel?”

  Lia met his gaze. That dimple on his left cheek momentarily distracted her. “You said something to my dat . . .” Best not bring that up. She shouldn’t have been eavesdropping. “You had your arms around each other after the picnic.”

  “Her idea, not mine. She’s clever. Didn’t wear shoes to a picnic in the woods. She is your sister, and I knew I should help her. But if I had my way, I’d have left her to fend for herself.”

  Lia refused to believe it. Once again, he was trying to make her feel better. “She said you tossed my pie on the floor because you were tired of the way I threw myself at you all the time.”

  Moses lifted his hat, shoved his fingers through his hair, and growled. Actually growled. “You’ve lived with Rachel all her life and yet still believe the things that come out of her mouth? Lia, you’re smarter than that.”

  A light went on in Lia’s head. “You . . . you didn’t throw my pie on the floor?”

  “At this point, I think I would give my right arm for one of your pies. I am dying to taste one of your pies. Everybody in Bonduel has tasted one of your pies but me. Rachel saw how excited I was about it. She turned red as a beet and dumped it on the floor.”