Promise Lodge

by Charlotte Hubbard

  “Oh, Noah. Isaac’s made us all crazy,” Deborah murmured. “I was ready to leave Promise Lodge, to keep him from coming back to ruin everything you’ve all worked so hard for. But that’s—”

  “That’s what Chupp wants,” Noah interrupted earnestly. “If he keeps us agitated about the Bender barn burning—or by threatening what he’ll do next—then we’ll be the blathering sheep and he’ll be the wolf, licking his chops. Enough, already.”

  “Amen! Now you’ve got it right, son!” Mattie said from the dining room doorway.

  “You go, Noah!” Rosetta joined in, while Christine nodded her enthusiastic approval.

  Laura and Phoebe broke into applause and then rushed over to hug both of them. “It’s so gut to see you two getting along again,” Phoebe said. “Congratulations on your job, Noah.”

  “And the minute I figured out you were gone,” Laura said as she shook a finger at Deborah, “I would’ve been running the roads until I found you. And I would’ve brought you back here to be with us! So there!”

  A warm sense of belonging filled Deborah’s soul. Her nerves settled. Her body relaxed. Standing among her closest friends, with the young man she’d loved for so long, she realized how much she had to be grateful for. “We need to show our appreciation to Truman with some wonderful-gut picnic food,” she said to the women in the doorway. “He’s done us some big favors since we’ve met him.”

  “I thought you’d see it that way,” Noah agreed. “I’ll go check the fishing rods. Some of them are the worse for wear after being stashed in that old shed, but we’ll have enough to go around.”

  “Scrub the grill, too, please,” Mattie said. “We’ve made hamburger patties, and we took a package of Rosetta’s sausages from the freezer.”

  “I’m going to boil some eggs for potato salad and a deviled egg plate,” Christine said as she headed back to the kitchen.

  “Do we need a pie as well as the ice cream cake Deborah’s making?” Phoebe asked. “We’ve got jars of rhubarb filling in the cellar—and apple, too.”

  Noah chuckled. “The answer to a pie question is always yes,” he replied. “Remember how Truman tucked away two pieces when his crew was here?”

  “What’s missing? Baked beans, maybe?” Mattie thought aloud. “And we’ve got leaf lettuce and green onions in the garden that would make a nice bowl of wilted lettuce.”

  “With lots of bacon,” Laura suggested as she joined the others who were returning to the kitchen. “This is going to be a feast! And then we girls are going to outfish the guys!”

  Deborah remained in the center of the lobby with Noah, savoring a few more moments of his nearness. “We’re cooking up quite a celebration—as well we should,” she added. “I’m so glad Truman offered you that job, Noah. It’s been hard on you, not having steady welding work.”

  Noah cleared his throat. “Truth be told, I have to submit a bid to the managers at the senior living center before they’ll officially hire me,” he said softly. “But I can do this. If I have sample sketches of trellises and gates ready come Monday, I think it’ll be a go.”

  “I know it will, Noah.” Deborah smiled at him, daring to place her hands on either side of his tanned, clean-shaven face the way she used to.

  “Coming from you, those words mean a lot.” He smiled and eased away from her. “I’d better take care of those fishing rods and the grill before you distract me. But don’t think for a minute that I’ll ignore you this evening. Denki for that kick in the pants you gave me, girl.”

  Noah didn’t kiss her, but Deborah knew he wanted to. He gazed at her mouth, his lips parting, before he turned on his heel to head back outside.

  She rejoined her friends in the kitchen, invigorated by their excitement over the evening’s plans. Phoebe was mixing dough for piecrusts while Christine had set eggs in a pan of water on the stove. Laura was scrubbing potatoes. At another counter, Rosetta and Mattie had dumped two big cans of pork and beans into a baking dish. They were stirring in seasonings and brown sugar as bacon sizzled in a skillet nearby.

  “I’ll go pick us some lettuce and onions,” Deborah said, grabbing a plastic washtub near the back door.

  “Spinach, too!” Rosetta called out.

  Deborah gave her a thumbs-up as she stepped outside. It was a fine thing when everyone worked in harmony and agreed on a common purpose, whether it be overruling Isaac’s treachery or celebrating Noah’s job—or repaying Truman Wickey’s kindness.

  Deborah smiled as her bare feet sank into the warm, damp earth of the recently hoed garden. Tonight would mark a fresh start between her and Noah. She just knew it.

  * * *

  “In the interest of fairness, what with six gals and only four guys,” Preacher Amos said as they were finishing their picnic supper, “I think we men should have six fishing rods to share amongst us, so we’ll have just as many lines in the water.”

  Noah watched his mother and aunts nod to each other. “Jah, that makes sense. Evens up the numbers.”

  “I think the guys should stand along one section of the shore while the girls fish from another area,” Truman suggested. “Otherwise, our lines will get tangled.”

  “Which means the girls have to bait their own hooks and string their own fish,” Roman pointed out.

  Noah nearly choked on the last bite of his rhubarb pie as the females’ protests rose.

  “I’m not digging worms out of that can of dirt!” Phoebe declared.

  “What if I stab myself with the hook?” Mamm asked as she shot a doubtful look at Amos.

  “It’s impossible to hang on to flipping, flopping, slimy fish!” Aunt Christine chimed in.

  “Whose idea was this fishing contest, anyway?” Laura’s voice rose above the others. “I think you guys set it up this way on purpose!”

  Silence settled over them as they sat on the old quilts they’d spread near the shoreline.

  “The contest was my idea,” Deborah replied softly. “Wouldn’t it be just as fair if we fished in three or four rounds? For each round, the fellows could get all the hooks baited, and then everyone can stand wherever they want to, and we can set a timer. The folks who catch a fish can wait for the round to end before they put their lines in again.”

  “So we’d tally the women’s catch and the men’s catch, and after the men string up the fish we’d start a new round?” Aunt Rosetta clarified.

  “You girls are just afraid to get worm guts on your hands,” Roman teased.

  Noah smiled. After giving Deborah’s fishing lesson the other night—recalling her reaction to handling the bait and the live fish—he knew the contest would be called off if the fellows didn’t make a few concessions. “I think that’s a workable plan,” he said. “After all the effort these gals have put into our picnic, would it hurt us to give them a hand with their hooks?”

  “I like the sound of that,” Preacher Amos chimed in. “We’d be working together instead of taking sides, and everyone would have more fun. If fishing can’t be fun, why bother?”

  “Jah, that’s a better idea,” Truman agreed. “I’m all for keeping the ladies happy. They feed me too well, and I want to be invited back.”

  Everyone laughed and finished eating their pie and the ice cream cake roll. While the women gathered the plates and covered the food, the men put worms on all twelve of the hooks and dug little tunnels at intervals along the shoreline to hold their rods. By the time the ladies had taken the perishable food to the fridge and returned to the lake with a kitchen timer, the men had distributed the nets and stringers around the shoreline and everything was ready for the contest to begin.

  Noah smiled at the way the spacing worked out. He and Deborah stood near each other, while Amos had gravitated between Mamm and Aunt Christine, and Truman stood an arm’s length from Aunt Rosetta. Phoebe and Laura positioned themselves between Wickey and Roman, and Queenie trotted around them all, anticipating the excitement of flopping fish. They made a satisfying group picture, lining a long
stretch of Rainbow Lake’s shoreline as the sun was inching its way down the western sky.

  “We’ll set this first round for ten minutes,” Deborah announced. She held up the timer, gripping the handle on its numbered face. “On your mark—get set—go!”

  With a quick twist, she set the timer. Noah watched her, pleased at how Deborah swung her rod sideways with graceful energy, releasing the thumb button at just the right moment. Her bobber plopped onto the lake well beyond the others.

  “Nice cast,” Noah remarked as his line sailed out over the water.

  “Gut teacher,” Deborah replied without missing a beat.

  Noah’s heart sped up. He watched with rising excitement as she quickly jerked her line to set the hook.

  “I’ve got one!” she squealed, slowly cranking the handle.

  “There’s one on my hook, too,” Roman called out from down the shoreline. “A sea monster, by the feel of it.”

  “Help!” Laura squawked. “My bobber went down and my line’s racing out!”

  Roman quickly stuck the butt of his rod into a tunnel and took his cousin’s line. Truman laughed and stepped behind Rosetta to steady her rod when she, too, cried out for help. Aunt Christine stuck her rod into a tunnel and scurried over to grab Roman’s. “You’ve got a lot more going on than I do,” she explained when he gave her a quizzical look.

  “I’ve snagged one that’s headed to the bottom of the lake!” Preacher Amos called out with a laugh. “It surely must be a whale like the one that swallowed Jonah.”

  When the timer trilled behind him and Queenie barked repeatedly, Noah was reeling in a fish, as well. “Bring in all the lines,” he said. “Let’s count our catch.”

  Preacher Amos’s whale turned out to be a large mass of weeds and muck. Six nice fish were soon flipping on the stringers, however—three for the women and three for the men, because Roman allowed Aunt Christine to count the one on his hook, and Laura said Roman could claim the bass he’d netted for her. Truman had landed Aunt Rosetta’s trout as well as a bass from one of the spare lines. Noah was pleased at the way Deborah had slipped the net under her own fish and had then assisted with his catch, as well. He was glad he’d taken the time to show her how to handle fishing equipment, because she was much more adept—and having more fun—than the other gals were.

  The second round brought the total catch to thirteen. By the time the third round was under way, no one was keeping track of which team was bringing in the fish. When the timer rang, dusk was fading into darkness.

  “I’d better see to the livestock chores,” Roman announced. “But I think we fellows won, if you consider how many times we left our lines to help the women.”

  “We’re all winners,” Truman countered good-naturedly. “I can’t recall a single thing I’d change, or anything lacking in this wonderful evening. I’ll help you fellows clean these fish and then get along home to my mother.”

  “Give her our best,” Aunt Rosetta said as she grabbed one of the stringers of fish. “And don’t forget—we’re going to fry all our fish sometime soon, and you’re both invited.”

  Truman smiled, obviously delighted in the time he’d spent with her. “So happens I’ve got a nice, deep fish fryer at my place. Why don’t you folks come over with those fish, and that way Mamm can join us. She’ll be glad for your company.”

  “Pick a time that suits her and we’ll be there,” Preacher Amos replied.

  Noah followed the various conversations as everyone headed for the lodge carrying the fish, the last cooler, and the old quilts. He took Deborah’s hand. “I’m glad we had our fun this evening,” he said. “It was gut to hear folks laughing, after all the work we’ve been so intent on these past weeks. And all the stuff with Isaac.”

  “Credit Rosetta for insisting that I set aside my inclination to leave Promise Lodge because—”

  “You really were going to leave?” Noah’s throat tightened as he tugged Deborah closer. “I thought you just said that in passing. I—I thought you liked it here, sweetie.”

  “Oh, I do.” Deborah’s eyes shone in the darkness, inches in front of his face. “But I let Isaac’s bluster get to me, thinking he’d come back to cause trouble for the rest of you because he wasn’t finished tormenting me.”

  “He’ll have to put me out of commission first,” Noah declared. He kissed her then, first on the cheek and then on the sweet, soft lips he’d missed even more than he’d realized.

  Deborah’s breath left her. “Noah? Don’t lead me where you don’t want me to go,” she pleaded.

  “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied before kissing her again. “Please, will you stay, Deborah? Can you be patient while I establish myself and—and make sure I can provide you a home?”

  She closed her eyes. Then she nodded.

  “Even if it takes a couple more years?”

  Deborah gazed at him straight-on. “For you, Noah, I can be patient this time around.”

  His heart danced to the music Deborah made when she said his name. Noah hugged her close for a few precious moments and then started toward the lodge. “It’s been a big day, a turning point,” he whispered gratefully. “With you by my side, I feel like I can move mountains.”

  “Me too, Noah.”

  Silently they walked through the damp grass, surrounded by the reedy thrum of cicadas and a distant rumble of thunder. Noah paused before they entered the back door to the lodge. In the lamplight that spilled from the kitchen window, Deborah’s honey-brown hair glimmered beneath her pleated white kapp. Her flawless skin glowed, crinkling slightly around her eyes when she smiled at him.

  “I’m going to help with the dishes and then head for bed,” she said.

  “And I’ll be cleaning fish for a while,” Noah said with a smile. “Sweet dreams, Deborah.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Here you go, Aunt Rosetta,” Noah said as he came through the screen door. “Our buckets are full of fileted fish!”

  Rosetta looked up from rinsing out the laundry tub in the mudroom. “Your timing’s perfect. I was just getting some freezer containers ready so we can put—Truman! You’re still here.”

  Both men chuckled as they came to stand on either side of her.

  “Hated to leave all that smelly work to Noah when I saw Amos heading toward the barn to help Roman with the livestock chores,” their neighbor explained. “We’ve got quite a nice catch here. I’m looking forward to sharing it over at our place sometime soon.”

  Rosetta prayed that her face didn’t display the same schoolgirlish glee that had rung in her voice when she’d blurted Truman’s name. He’s just being thoughtful, helping Noah. Don’t go hoping he’s stayed to see more of you, silly girl.

  “We should set up a time to do that, so we don’t get too busy and let summer slip by,” Rosetta agreed. “I feel bad that your mamm couldn’t come and fish with us tonight. Maybe if you bring her over in your truck for dinner at our table sometime—”

  “She’d like that, I’m sure. Denki for thinking of her, Rosetta.”

  Noah smiled slyly. “I’ll leave you two to tend this fish while I feed Queenie. See you Monday morning, Truman.”

  “Jah, bright and early,” he replied. “Looking forward to it.”

  Rosetta pressed the stopper into the drain of the big laundry sink and ran some cold water. She was acutely aware that Truman Wickey filled the small room with his presence—and that he showed no inclination to go home. He hung his straw hat on a peg near the door, gazing around the mudroom.

  “No wonder it smells so nice in here,” he remarked as he looked at the cream-colored bars of soap lined up on her worktable. “Who’s the soap maker? Not many folks do that anymore.”

  “That would be me,” Rosetta replied. “I use some of the milk from my goats. When our new families arrive I’m going to give them a bar as a welcome gift.” She shut off the water and reached for the nearest pail of fish, hoping Truman didn’t think she was babbling.

  “L
et me hold that for you.”

  Rosetta’s breath left her in a rush when Truman’s sturdy hands steadied the bucket against the edge of the sink. He was standing so close to her that—well, it’s a gut thing he smells like fish, and now I will, too, she thought as she began placing the slippery filets in the water.

  “I’m glad Deborah suggested that fishing contest—and a picnic at the lake,” she said. The sound of their mingled breathing was starting to unnerve her in the otherwise silent room.

  “It’s been too long since I took time out for fun,” Truman agreed. “I really appreciate you folks inviting me to share your evening. All work and no play—well, you know what they say.”

  “You could never be a dull boy, Truman,” Rosetta blurted. She placed a layer of rinsed filets in the plastic bin she’d prepared, shaking her head at herself. “You must think I sound as silly as—”

  “Matter of fact, your voice does crazy things to me, Rosetta. Even if we’ve both agreed not to let such things distract us.”

  Rosetta swallowed hard. She was distracted. “I don’t want to give you the idea that I’d abandon my Old Order faith to—”

  “Nor do I intend to change my Mennonite ways,” Truman insisted gently. “So now that we’ve reminded each other of our gut intentions, we can return to being two purposeful, responsible adults—as opposed to acting like a couple of kids who’d like to find a dark corner and start kissing. Or at least I would.”

  Rosetta’s mouth dropped open as her cheeks flared with heat. She hoped her sisters and nieces weren’t still in the kitchen—or eavesdropping on this intensely private conversation from the top of the back stairs.

  Truman sighed as he set aside the empty bucket and reached for the other one. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you. And I hope I wasn’t out of line when I stood behind you to steady your fishing rod, with my arms around you. No doubt everyone got ideas about that.”

  As the memory of that moment made her tingle, Rosetta smiled wryly. “But we were surrounded by all those chaperones. And I would’ve lost my fish—maybe broken my line—had you not helped me.” She quickly layered the rest of the rinsed fish in the bin and snapped the lid in place.