The Stone Wall

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The Stone Wall Page 8

by Beverly Lewis


  “Do you know anything more than what you’ve already told me about my grandma’s time here as a teenager?” Anna asked as they rode along.

  Sadie shook her head. “Sorry I’m not more help. Maybe my parents know something.”

  Tucking a loose strand of hair back into her thick bun, Anna hoped someone might know more about that long-ago summer.

  She and Sadie rode in silence for a while, the horse trotting faster now, its glossy mane waving up and down.

  “Say, Glen and I are thinkin’ of having Luke and Marianna and the children over for ice cream this evening. Will ya be home?” Sadie asked.

  Anna nodded. “Sure.”

  “I think you’ll enjoy our little toddler girl.”

  “Sally, right?” Anna loved her name.

  “Jah, and is she ever a talker.”

  “I was, too, when I was little, Mamm said. Bapplich, ya know.”

  Sadie smiled at her. “I remember.”

  “But the older I got, the more shy I became.”

  Nodding, Sadie said, “I was just the opposite, I’m afraid.” She laughed. “I was bashful as a youngster, and now . . . well, listen to me go on and on!”

  Anna shared in the laugh, and after a moment, Sadie mentioned little Jimmy, Luke and Marianna’s baby. “I can scarcely wait for you to meet both children.”

  “Are the older boys coming, too?” Anna asked. “The ones who helped Glen make the paths out to the tree house?”

  “Nee, after supper they usually go and help at the next farm over, but you’ll meet them sometime soon.”

  “Maybe I’ll run into them at their tree house.” Anna laughed. “I’ve been there twice already.” She paused. “I’m oddly drawn to it. Guess I feel close to God in the woods. Always have.”

  “Well, it’s been quite some time since I managed to get out there.” Sadie adjusted the driving lines she held in both hands. “Marcus and Eddy—Luke’s school-age boys—wanted me to walk with them on the more difficult path that’s blocked by a pile of rocks. I had to say no. Even with their help, I didn’t dare risk a fall. Not with my bad knee.”

  Anna recalled Mammi Eliza’s broken ankle a couple years after Dawdi passed away. “You’re schmaert not to take that path, Sadie.”

  “Jah, the path of least resistance is best for these aging bones.”

  Anna thought of Sadie’s sister Eva and the fall that had broken her hip, leading to the surgery that had left her so confused. “You’ve very wise,” she agreed.

  Anna’s first impression of Sadie’s sister Eva had been that the older woman seemed more wakeful and alert than Mammi Eliza typically was lately. Eva also stared at Anna quite a lot, a puzzled smile on her face, as though trying to place her. And when Sadie introduced Anna as Rachel Slaubaugh Beachy’s youngest daughter, Eva had quietly nodded her head as if she understood.

  Later, when Anna and Sadie returned from their visit, Anna went to her room and studied the list of sights the information center had given her to work from, as well as the county map. She circled the Amish schools in Strasburg, Paradise, and Leacock, intending to drive to see all of them. She had told Sadie she wouldn’t be back for the noon meal, but Sadie had insisted on making a ham, cheese, and lettuce sandwich for her, also packing plastic bags of carrots and celery, and a thermos of cold lemonade.

  “I owe you,” Anna said, adjourning to the kitchen and thanking Sadie for her thoughtfulness. Then, lunch bag in hand, she headed off to check out the spots she’d marked on the map. This way, she could get some personal experience and better determine how much time to plan for each location.

  At the one-room Amish school on Route 741 and Belmont Road, Anna discreetly took pictures of the exterior and the playground from her car, then drove on to do the same at the other Amish schools and even cemeteries in those areas. Tomorrow, she would travel to other nearby townships and burgs populated with Amish folk.

  Anna arrived back to the Flauds’ well before supper and with time to help Sadie by going out to cut leaf lettuce from the small salad garden. As she headed indoors to wash the lettuce, she could hear Glen and Luke’s free-range turkeys gobbling and clucking while meandering through the weeds in the pasture over yonder, foraging for seeds and insects. Once the fresh lettuce was clean, she tore it into bite-size pieces to use for the individual salad plates of lettuce, cottage cheese, and pear halves from one of the many quart jars in Sadie’s large pantry.

  Meanwhile, Sadie’s meatloaf and her scalloped potatoes were baking in the oven, filling the kitchen with wonderful aromas. Sadie turned down the gas under the pot of new snap peas from the garden and went to get some butter for the table.

  “Honestly, it feels like I’m s’posed to be here, and maybe not just for the job,” Anna told her in the stillness of the kitchen. She didn’t let on how, since her breakup with Atley, she had longed to begin anew . . . someplace different from home.

  “I s’pose that’s one way to say you’re hopin’ for a beau,” Sadie said, glancing at her. “Ain’t so?”

  Anna only smiled, wanting to let all this newfound happiness settle down—her job, her growing friendship with Mart, and her unexpectedly comfortable relationship with her kind and welcoming host and hostess.

  Sadie changed the subject, mentioning that, for their Old Order church district, this Lord’s Day was a “between Sunday,” which meant no Preaching service. “We’ll be goin’ round visiting some of Glen’s relatives, if you’d like to join us,” Sadie invited her.

  “Well, I plan to attend the fellowship in Bird-in-Hand,” she told Sadie, pleased to discover that the church had been founded by a Beachy Amish bishop.

  “It’s up to you where ya worship, of course.” Sadie wiped her brow with a hankie she’d taken out from beneath her sleeve. “Our house is your house . . . you may come and go as you wish.”

  Anna appreciated that, looking forward to the next service and even the party later that day. It would give her another chance to make new friends.

  After supper, Anna helped clear the table, knowing Sadie and Glen’s son and daughter-in-law and children would be arriving soon. Besides Glen’s homemade ice cream, there was a cake that Sadie had tucked away on a pretty cake plate with a cover.

  While Sadie quickly washed the dishes, Anna swept the floor, moving the chairs and the wooden bench on the side closest to the sink to do a thorough job. “That was a wunnerbaar-gut meal,” Anna said. “The meatloaf was so moist and tasty.”

  Sadie smiled. “I put tomato juice in the meat mixture. What about yous?”

  “Mamm likes steak sauce or catsup, either one.”

  “That so?” Sadie said without turning around, still hurrying through her work.

  “I’ll come and wipe dishes as soon as the floor’s swept,” Anna promised.

  Sadie placed the last plate on the dish rack and drained the sink. She dried her hands on her white work apron, then reached inside the cupboard below to remove two tea towels.

  Anna took the second towel, and in just a few minutes, they had everything dried and put away.

  Sadie glanced over her shoulder, as if checking to see if her son and his family might be arriving. “We’ll have us a real nice time.”

  “I hope the baby’s not shy around me,” Anna said. “I can’t wait to get my hands on him.”

  “He’s a happy little one. You’ll see.”

  “Aw . . .” Anna felt sure it would be a lovely gathering.

  ———

  Right away, Anna was reminded of how jovial Luke Flaud was. As he and his wife came into the house, he removed his straw hat, exposing a head full of curly brown hair. Then, reaching to shake Anna’s hand, he grinned. “Nice to see ya again, Anna. And willkumm to the Flaud turkey farm, small as it is,” he said, putting little Sally down on the floor.

  “Denki. My, your family’s grown since I was last here,” Anna said, watching Sally head straight for her Dawdi Glen’s open arms, jabbering to him about the cloth dolly her Mamma had made,
and holding it up close to Glen’s face.

  Strawberry-blond Marianna smiled as she handed Baby Jimmy to Sadie, then shook Anna’s hand, too, her green eyes sparkling. “You’re a long ways from home, jah?”

  “Well, not so far by car,” Anna said.

  Sadie invited them to sit at the table, where she handed Jimmy to Anna before going across the room to get out the ice cream to dish up. “He’s so cuddly . . . just precious,” Anna said, taking her spot at the table with the wiggly infant. She gazed down at his little face. “He looks like you, Marianna.”

  Marianna smiled. “Actually, I see a lot of Luke in him.”

  “’Tis a gut blend of the two of yous,” Sadie said, her ears attuned to the table conversation as she removed the cover from the ice cream and began to scoop.

  Wide-eyed Sally scooted down from Glen’s lap and wandered around the table, stopping at Anna’s chair. “Hullo.” Sally stroked her baby brother’s plump arm while looking up at Anna. “Aendi?” she asked in Deitsch.

  Sadie tittered, her hand over her mouth, and then Marianna began to explain to Sally that she and Anna were cousins. Wee Sally seemed to take the information in stride, then held up her faceless doll to Anna, its matching blue dress and apron the same as Sally’s own.

  It wasn’t long before Sally tried to climb up on Anna’s lap. Anna made room for her by moving the baby over slightly, nestling him in her left arm.

  “Well now,” Glen said at the head of the table, “I haven’t seen Sally warm up to someone new so quickly before.”

  Marianna nodded. “I daresay Sally likes her cousin Anna.”

  “I should say so,” Luke replied, his eyes brightening as Sadie brought over his big bowl of ice cream.

  “You have a special way with children, jah?” Marianna said, taking Baby Jimmy from Anna so she could eat.

  “I have many nephews and nieces back home, so I’ve had lots of practice.” Anna smiled down at Sally, who’d snuggled with her dolly and leaned her head against Anna.

  “Anna will be a right fine Mamma one day,” Sadie said as she carried more bowls of ice cream to the table, then went back and brought chocolate syrup, chopped walnuts, and a bowl piled with homemade whipped cream, setting them down, as well. “There are plenty of wunnerbaar fellas round here.”

  “Mamm, for pity’s sake,” Luke said.

  “Pity’s sake,” little Sally mimicked, bringing a round of laughter at the table.

  Oh, to have such darling children, Anna thought. Lord willing . . . someday.

  Chapter 14

  Anna skimmed through the Saturday morning paper after breakfast and then drove over to Peaceful Meadows Horse Retreat. She had been looking forward to this all week. She’d even mentioned it to Sadie last evening, after Luke and Marianna left with their little ones.

  Pulling into the long lane, she was impressed again by the natural beauty of the place. She stepped out of the car and walked toward the pristine white horse stable, glad she’d thought to wear her old walking shoes. As Anna tramped through the stable, she saw a number of young Amishwomen, mostly teenagers, each leading a horse out of its stall into a line to be groomed. Standing back near the wall, Anna watched as they prepared for the young clients to help curry the horses they would ride.

  At that moment, Gabe Allgyer entered the stable. He walked over to welcome Anna with enthusiasm. “Wunnerbaar guder Mariye, jah?”

  “Fehlerfrei.”

  “Some might say that every morning at Peaceful Meadows Horse Retreat is both wonderful and perfect,” Gabe replied.

  “I’d have to agree.” Anna looked about her, observing the various volunteers working in an unspoken sort of rhythm.

  “Say, we’re short one volunteer today.” Gabe turned to look at her, a hopeful look on his sun-tanned face. “You’ve groomed a horse, jah?”

  “Sure, why not make myself useful?” she said, following Gabe as he directed her toward a small school-age boy wearing black trousers, a blue short-sleeved shirt, and black suspenders. The child’s straw hat was the smallest Anna had ever seen.

  “His nickname is Freckles,” Gabe said, hanging back a bit out of earshot of the boy. “He was born with a rare virus that caused a seizure disorder, but since coming for riding therapy the past two summers, Freckles has gained more confidence and seems more content. He’s able to lead his horse around cones slowly with help. And his balance and muscle control are steadily improving when he’s on the horse, too.”

  “His parents must be thrilled.”

  Gabe agreed. “His parents and many others in his family.” He asked if she would like to help Freckles curry the chestnut mare. “That’s Apple, by the way . . . one of our most docile quarter horses. She knows how to carry her riders smoothly, even at a trot.”

  “I’d love to help Freckles,” Anna said, marveling at the whole program.

  Gabe walked with her to meet the lad. “Are ya ready to groom Apple?” he asked him.

  Nodding, Freckles leaned against Gabe, who patted his slight shoulders.

  “Anna here will give ya a hand.”

  Freckles looked up at her. With his dark eyes and lashes and silky brown hair, he was certainly a beautiful child. He nodded. “Denki.”

  “You’ve done this before, jah?” Anna placed her hand over his as he held the curry brush. “How’s this?” she asked.

  Freckles gave her a big smile, and Anna glanced over at Gabe, who was greeting several Amishwomen carrying small children into the stable. One was a tiny blond girl who closely resembled the beautiful blue-eyed woman accompanying her.

  “Emmie always rides Promise,” one of the volunteers called to the blond woman, pointing to the black pony at the end of the lineup.

  Anna admired the woman and the petite girl—nearly like twins in looks, though years apart. Like Baby Jimmy and his Mamma, Anna thought, recalling how good it had felt to cradle a baby in her arms last evening.

  Anna returned her attention to Freckles’ attempt at making small circles against Apple’s sleek coat. “Round and round with the brush, gently . . . gently,” she encouraged the boy, who kept looking at her for approval, his tongue poking from the side of his mouth in concentration.

  After fifteen minutes or so, Freckles seemed tired, and another young boy was given the opportunity to groom Apple’s opposite flank and shoulder with help from one of the Amish teens.

  Gabe came over and picked up Freckles, then went to meet a stout Amishman who looked to be the boy’s father. The men shook hands and talked briefly before Gabe waved good-bye.

  Meanwhile, the assistants helped the riders place and secure their helmets on their little heads. When the tacking up was complete, as well, the riders were either helped up or settled directly onto the saddle. The organization of the volunteers impressed Anna; Gabe did not have to prompt a single one. Like worker bees. They know exactly what to do, she thought.

  Any disability or hesitation the riders had shown seemed to vanish, and smiles appeared as the horses began to move, each accompanied by a leader and two side walkers, or in some cases, a parent and a side walker.

  “Rider and horse build a special bond over time,” Gabe told Anna. “Eventually a horse will choose its rider. For some riders, that connection happens almost immediately.” He invited her to go along to the sixty-foot round pen, where the horses walked slowly while being led. “The children’s parents tell us that they count the days till their next therapy session—the children, I mean. That is, those who can speak.” He mentioned that two young riders were nonverbal, one due to autism.

  Everything about the program impressed Anna. She was scarcely able to put into words how moved she was by the sheer joy on the faces, the love in their eyes. “What you’re doing here is amazing,” she told Gabe as they stood near the gate leading into the sandy round pen. “I’m so glad you allowed me to observe.”

  “Denki.” He nodded. “Listen, we’re always on the lookout for volunteers who have a gentle way with our youngest chil
dren, especially.”

  She turned to look at him.

  “We could use another side walker, if you’re interested.”

  Without considering the time involved, she answered from her heart, “I’m very interested and would love to help.”

  Gabe beamed. He invited her to stay after the session to fill out an application, as well as be available for a screening after a review of the initial paperwork. He also provided a few more instructions about the work, encouraging her to observe how the side walkers firmly held the riders’ legs and sometimes arms, as well, to balance them.

  “Some riders need to be steadied and made to feel secure more than others,” she said, watching as the groups moved slowly around the pen.

  “Jah, exactly.” Gabe glanced at her. “I couldn’t help noticing how you worked with little Freckles . . . helpin’ him control the brush and feel its pressure against the horse’s flank. You’re a natural, Anna.”

  She blushed—it wasn’t only Gabe’s remarks that were affirming. His delighted expression was, as well.

  “I did something rather impulsive today,” Anna told Sadie the minute she arrived back at the house.

  “Oh?”

  “I applied to be a volunteer at the horse therapy retreat not far from here.”

  Sadie looked up from the kitchen table, which was covered with a smattering of card stock, fabric, batting, and spools of colored thread. “Did ya, now?” Sadie tilted her head. “Must be Peaceful Meadows.”

  “So you know the place.”

  “Well, we know the manager, Gabe Allgyer, who drafted and built the tree house.” Sadie smiled.

  “Gabe did?”

  Sadie nodded and changed the subject. “You’re gonna be mighty busy, ain’t so?”

  “Well, if I’m accepted, it’ll just be for two hours on Saturday mornings through September.” Anna walked over to the table and looked at the assembly line of sorts that Sadie had going there. “You made these?”

 

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