by Naomi King
Didn’t you, just for a moment, imagine Abby was holding her own firstborn? And didn’t you, just for a moment, put yourself in the role of that child’s father…Abby’s husband?
Now, hours later, such thoughts seemed risky. While it was the right thing to move beyond Zanna’s rejection, that didn’t mean he was ready to court another woman. He had loved Zanna with all his heart. He had believed she was the woman God had chosen for him. A man didn’t recover from such a deep personal wound in days or even weeks. Lately, James had even been wondering if God intended for him to remain single—to assist Emma with the care of their parents so perhaps she would have the chance to marry.
And yet, as James watched Abby coming down Lambright Lane, it wasn’t hard to imagine the possibility of spending more time with her. After all, hadn’t Jonny Ropp informed him last fall that Abby had been sweet on him ever since they’d been scholars coming up through the grades in school? He had been surprised that other folks had noticed her feelings for him, too…and how could it be a bad thing, if she felt attracted to him? Abby was the picture of solid, honorable Amish womanhood, yet as she approached him her lips twitched with the same playful grin he recalled from when they were in their teens.
“I didn’t mean to head the other way when Jonny called our names,” Abby said in her lilting voice. “I had an armload of dirty pie plates and a young mother wanting to put her fussy child down for a nap in my guest room.” She stopped a few feet in front of him, clasping her hands at her waist, looking at him in that direct way she had.
Could Abby read his thoughts? Did she have any inkling of how vulnerable and confused he felt right now where women were concerned?
On such a happy occasion, it seemed better to go with Abby’s lightheartedness than to dwell on his misgivings. “The way these girls tell it,” James teased, “you kept back the best cherry pie to eat all by yourself, rather than come to the table with me.”
Abby’s eyes widened as she laughed along with Ruthie and Beth Ann, and then her expression softened. “If a woman chooses to eat dessert all by herself rather than join a fellow for supper, well…she’s missing out on one of the sweetest parts of a meal—or of a wedding celebration.”
Abby looked again at the girls, who were following this conversation closely for signs of—what? Romance? Wasn’t that on most young ladies’ minds at a wedding? “I did save back the most wonderful-gut cherry pie,” she continued with a straight face, “but while you two girls have been carrying tales to James, your dats have probably gobbled it all down. Too bad for you!”
Ruthie’s face fell, but then she chuckled. “Come on, Beth Ann. I think Aunt Abby’s fibbing about setting a pie back, but it couldn’t hurt to find out before Dat does.”
“Jah, my dat gets Rosemary’s pies all the time, but he’s always ready for a piece of somebody else’s,” Beth Ann replied. “Let’s go!”
As the two girls hurried toward the house, James nodded toward the guests who were entering the greenhouse. “Shall we show the rest of them how this is done?” he asked. “I almost joined my parents for a bite in the kitchen—figured I was too old to be in on the matchmaking. As I looked around at the crowd of Jonny’s and Zanna’s friends, it struck me that I remember when most of them were born.”
“Jah, and I changed the diapers of more than a few of them.” Abby smiled up at him as they walked. “But I was tickled to hear my name called with yours, James, instead of being matched up with some poor out-of-town Ropp cousin that Zanna didn’t know who else to pair with. That’s what happens when an unattached woman reaches a certain age, you know.”
James had often wondered why Abby hadn’t settled down with one of the local fellows. Perry Bontrager and Mose Hartzler had both been eager to court her at one time, yet nothing had come of it. Then, when Abby’s dat had helped her build her little home up the lane, the men had stopped asking her out. Yet Abby was by no means old or mean-spirited or difficult to get along with. She knew how to cook and sew and organize her time, and she had a fine head for business, too.
But he had no room to talk about still being single, did he? “Jah, and when a man reaches that age—”
“You’ll be thirty next month, if I recall.”
“—folks think he’s either too set in his ways for a woman to tolerate him, or that he can’t find one who’ll look after him like his mamm did,” James continued in a low voice. “Or the younger girls consider him a gut catch because they assume he’s built up a big bank account.”
“Unlike the boys their own age, who want to run around with their friends, sampling all the worldly temptations they’ll put aside when they join the church.” As they entered the greenhouse, Abby stopped to gaze around the large, airy room. “What a beautiful place this is,” she murmured. “Look at how the light sparkles on the glass panes…the way the hyacinths and daffodils glow when the sun hits them. It feels holy here, like God surely must be present.”
Mesmerized by Abby’s rapt expression, James held his breath. How like her it was to find something extraordinary about everyday places like her mother’s greenhouse. It was probably Abby’s doing that Beth Ann Yutzy had come out of her shell, too. And although Rosemary had gotten upset about being here today, James was certain Abby had done her best to comfort and reassure the young widow.
Love and sunshine. Maybe those words hadn’t been so outlandish after all. Maybe his heart was trying to tell him something and he should listen more closely. After all, if he had truly forgiven Zanna—he had spent the past six months getting over her rejection—wasn’t it time to open himself to seeing someone new?
As James stood with Abby, he was aware of other couples coming in around them, yet he saw only this woman who smiled so steadfastly at him, wearing a dress the shade of lilacs. “Abby, you have a way of making me look beyond the surface of the situations I’m in. You seem to see inside me—and everyone you meet—to know exactly what we all need,” he murmured. “I realize now that as much as I loved your sister, Zanna and I would have had some major differences and disagreements once the rosy glow of being newlyweds wore off.”
Abby cocked her head, thinking. “Every husband and wife disagree now and again. Part of becoming a gut, solid couple is learning how to deal with life’s ups and downs.”
James steered her to a chair at the end of a table, where they would have a few more moments to talk before the other seats filled. “And how do you know these things?” he whispered. “Now that I see Zanna standing beside Jonny, holding their child, I believe God worked it out just right. Your sister would never have found that sort of happiness with me, no matter how much I wanted to give it to her.”
“James.” Abby rested her hand on his arm with a serene smile. “You gave her the very best you had to offer. Zanna’s a lucky girl to still have you for a friend, truly forgiving her for the way she behaved last fall. Any woman would be blessed to call you her husband, James. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
James blinked, caught up in the depth of their conversation. He sensed that a lot of couples he knew couldn’t speak this openly about matters of the heart. “And I’m blessed to call you my gut friend, Abby,” he murmured.
Jonny Ropp clanged his knife against his glass until everyone in the greenhouse got quiet. “Let’s return thanks before our meal,” he said, and all heads bowed. After a few moments of silence the groom spoke again. “We’re happy to have you all here. Let’s enjoy the rest of our big day!”
The open room filled with the chatter of couples, who passed platters of sandwiches and bowls of salads. “We should get more in the spirit of this wedding supper, instead of being so all-fired serious,” James said. “I didn’t mean to spoil your fun, Abby.”
She nodded toward a table across from them. “Looks like you and I are having a party compared to your sister and Matt. Goodness, what a frown Emma’s wearing.”
After he accepted a bowl of slaw from Owen Coblentz, James glanced at them. Emma sat with her chin in
her hand, looking away from Matt as though she were ready to burst into tears.
“I’m sorry to see that,” he said. “My sister is responsible for our parents while I work in the shop—she does all the housework and cooking—and she deserves a nice fellow to have some fun with. At twenty-two, she’s wondering if time and the chance to marry are passing her by.”
“I’d go talk to her,” Abby said as she chose two triangle-shaped sandwiches, “but this isn’t the place. Emma’s well aware that Matt’s had his eye on Rosemary all day. It’s one thing to be paired with a fellow you’ve got your heart set on, and another thing altogether when he doesn’t return your feelings.”
James spooned applesauce onto his plate. It struck him again how Jonny Ropp had told him—months ago—that he’d been acting just as unaware of Abby’s feelings as Matt seemed to be of Emma’s.
Something inside James shifted. What if he was missing out on the opportunity God had in mind for him? What if Abby had been the right woman for him all along? Maybe he should ask her out sometime—
Ask her now. When will you have a more perfect opportunity?
She turned toward him, a sandwich at her lips, as though she anticipated something wonderful. He saw himself reflected in her large, doelike eyes and all rational thought left him. And wasn’t that a silly reaction? It wasn’t like he was a young, tongue-tied adolescent without any experience around women. He’d known Abby all his life. And being here at Zanna’s wedding certainly proved that he’d learned how to handle rejection, should Abby decline his invitation.
James took a deep breath. “You know, I’m building a buggy for a company that gives horse-drawn tours of New Orleans,” he began before he lost his nerve. “Would you want to join me for a test drive after I finish it next week?”
The words hovered between them while Abby chewed and swallowed, her eyes wide. She looked delighted. “Does that include a tour of the countryside around Cedar Creek?”
“It does if that’s what you’d like, Abby.” And didn’t it feel good, to know he had just made her so happy?
“I’d like to bring a picnic,” she replied pertly. “With the dogwoods and the redbuds in bloom, it’s the perfect time to enjoy the spring weather, don’t you think?”
James was beyond thinking. As Abby squeezed his hand, he could only nod happily. Wasn’t this yet one more surprise Zanna’s wedding day had brought about?
Chapter 7
On Friday morning, Rosemary sat forward on the seat of the buggy, willing old Gertie to trot faster. The restaurant in Bloomingdale wanted ten pies for the weekend, but she was too agitated to bake. Titus and Beth Ann had chatted all during breakfast about the fine time they’d had at the wedding yesterday. After that, when she’d checked the messages in the phone shanty by the road to hear how many pies the café wanted, Rosemary had also discovered a message from Matt Lambright.
“I’m calling for Titus Yutzy and for Rosemary,” he’d said in his energetic voice. “Titus, I’ve got you two fine yearling rams picked out—a Montadale and a Rambouillet—and I’ll bring them over whenever you’re ready. And while I’m there,” he added, “I’m hoping to visit with you, too, Rosemary. I really enjoyed meeting you and Katie yesterday. I’ll call you tomorrow afternoon, like we agreed.”
Rosemary’s heart had pounded so hard she could barely take down the phone number. She’d been tempted not to tell Titus that Matt had called, but that would have been the wrong way to handle this situation. Instead, she’d erased the message and left the phone number on the table for her father-in-law before hitching Gertie to the buggy. The best remedy for her racing thoughts was to visit with her mamm and Malinda, her sister. Surely there, at the home where she had grown up—and where she and Joe had been living—she would find the support she needed.
Was she the only one who felt it was too soon to embrace all this excitement about sewing and sheep and Cedar Creek? Beth Ann had rhapsodized all the way home about Abby Lambright and her Stitch in Time business, as well as about the incredible assortment of fabrics at the mercantile. Titus had gotten new ideas for improving his flock, and he couldn’t say enough positive words about Matt. And just the mention of Matt’s name made Katie ask repeatedly about his border collies. Thank goodness her little girl was riding quietly now, anticipating a visit with her grandmother and aunt.
Rosemary drove past the parcel of land she and Joe had bought, sadly imagining the orchard and the beehives they had planned to put behind their new house. It would have made such a pretty place to call their own, but now…She sighed. The weedy, unplanted fields and the clumpy grass along the fencerows resembled the way she felt this morning: needy and ignored and in total disarray.
She clapped the reins on Gertie’s broad back. Five minutes later she pulled onto the familiar lane, where her maiden name, KEIM, painted on the mailbox had faded over the years. Rosemary waved at Malinda, who was hoeing the freshly tilled vegetable garden, and hitched the mare at the post beside the front porch. “All right, Katie, we’re at Mammi’s,” she said as she helped her daughter down. “You’re to stay in the house with your grandmother and me, understand? No slipping out the back door while we’re visiting.”
Katie nodded, her fingers in her mouth, but the twinkle in her eye told Rosemary she would have to watch her daughter every moment. Up the porch stairs they went, with Katie clutching her hand as she took each tall step. “Hullo, Mamm!” Rosemary called out as she entered the kitchen.
Her mother answered from upstairs, so Rosemary steered her toddler toward the staircase in the front room. As they walked past the two recliners, she noted how the scuffmarks on the walls showed up more in the morning light. Joe would have painted these rooms by now, if he were still alive. He had been doing so well with his new remodeling business. Because of the downturn in the economy, he’d lined up a lot of jobs with English folks who were updating their homes rather than buying new ones.
As she helped Katie up each step, Rosemary forced her thoughts away from all the unrealized dreams Joe had left behind. She put a determined smile on her face. “And how are you this morning, Mamm?” she asked as she entered the bedroom her parents had shared for more than fifty years.
“Wasn’t expecting you girls to drop by, what with you being gone yesterday.” Her mother looked up from the clean sheets she was tucking around the mattress. “So how was the wedding?”
Rosemary stepped to the other side of the bed to help. “Nice enough. But I’m mighty tired of Titus saying how much greener the grass is on the Cedar Creek side of the fence and Beth Ann declaring how wonderful it would be to live closer to Sam Lambright’s mercantile, and—”
Rosemary bit her lip. She should speak more carefully. Her daughter had picked up the faceless Amish doll from the hand-carved cradle in the corner, which her mother kept there for her to play with. Katie was only three, but she had a knack for repeating what she’d heard—usually at the most inopportune times.
“Sorry, Mamm,” she murmured. “I didn’t intend to dump all my complaints on you. Yesterday was…more difficult than I had anticipated.”
Her mother smoothed the Dresden plate quilt with her hand. Bertha Keim was quiet by nature, so she didn’t respond except to raise her eyebrows.
“I felt like a fish out of water,” Rosemary explained. “Everyone else was having such a gut time. Beth Ann made a new friend and Titus gave us money for fabric and kitchen supplies, so now she’s all excited about the new clothes she’ll make for herself and Titus and Katie—”
“You didn’t pick out fabric for yourself?” her mother asked. “You ought to oblige Titus when he offers to buy you things, Rosemary. You’ve done him quite a favor, moving into his home and taking care of him and Beth Ann.”
Rosemary bit back a remark. While her mother’s reply was true enough, she had hoped for more…support. “It’s just not time for colored dresses yet, Mamm. And while Titus arranged an exchange of rams with the Lambrights’ son, our girl here”—Rosemary
tilted her head toward Katie, who sat on the floor, rocking the doll—“couldn’t stop playing with the D-O-Gs. To make it worse, the owner of those D-O-Gs kept gawking at me, even though I told him I wanted no part of his attention. Then he called this morning, saying he had Titus’s rams picked out and that he was…looking forward to bringing them to Queen City. I don’t know why I agreed to talk to him on the phone tomorrow.”
Her mother stuffed a fat feather pillow into a fresh pillowcase. “And does Treva Lambright still run her greenhouse there on the county road, alongside the mercantile?”
“Jah, that’s where they served the two meals.” Rosemary grabbed the other pillow and jammed it into the remaining pillowcase.
“I’ve been wanting some hostas to plant under the tree out front,” Mamm mused aloud. “And maybe Malinda will want to go to Cedar Creek this week for some tomato and cabbage plants. A tree branch fell on her cold frame—broke it open—and the deer ate her seedlings.”
Rosemary squeezed her eyes shut. Why didn’t anyone understand that she had no interest in Treva’s Greenhouse or in the Cedar Creek Mercantile—or in Matt Lambright? “You could find starter plants closer to home than— Oh, forget it,” she said with a sigh. “Just forget it.”
Her mother glanced at Katie, who was now spinning in a circle, swinging the doll by its arm. “Sounds like a gut time was had by all except for you, daughter,” she remarked. “Time marches on. The world won’t stand still because you lost your Joe. You’ve got a little girl to raise, and you need to find a new life for yourself—something besides being Titus Yutzy’s housekeeper and Beth Ann’s stand-in mother. What don’t you like about the Lambright boy? He comes from a gut family.”
And what did that mean? Surely her widowed mother understood the heartbreak and loneliness she was going through…It wasn’t like Mamm had been looking for another husband, even though that’s what she was telling Rosemary to do.