by Naomi King
“Better put blinders on your horse and hope you don’t spook anybody’s bulls. I’d like to watch it roll by just to get the full effect.” Matt was nodding, still trying to figure out how to ask his question while he was alone with James.
“So what’s on your mind today?” James asked after a short silence. “A courting buggy, maybe?”
“All right, so I made it pretty obvious I was interested in Rosemary Yutzy,” Matt protested. When he heard how his voice echoed in the high-ceilinged workroom, he stepped closer to James. “Truth be told, I’m here on account of how Titus called—because he wants to move to Cedar Creek!” he explained in a lower tone.
“Jah? I sure didn’t see that coming.”
“Well, here’s the real question for you.” Matt glanced behind him to be sure none of James’s employees were in the doorway. “Far as I know, nobody has any land for sale hereabouts. Since Carl’s farming most of your acreage, I’m taking a long shot, asking if you’d consider selling those lower fields that join on with Paul’s.”
James’s eyes widened. “Well, now, I wasn’t expecting you to ask that.”
“And if you need time to think about it or to ask your dat—”
“Oh, I can already tell you Dat’s not ready to part with any land—and not so much because he depends on the income,” James clarified. “This place belonged to his dat and his grandpa Graber before that. Mamm would have a fit, too. She’d figure we must be getting low on money, and that wouldn’t sit too gut. The carriage shop makes us plenty to get by on, but Dat considers the farming income his contribution to supporting the family, you see.”
“I figured you’d say that,” Matt said with a sigh. “But Titus asked me to check around. I thought about asking Perry Bontrager the same question, but since Paul gets no pay for preaching, I’m guessing he needs the income Carl’s crops bring in.”
“Jah, and Paul has aged to the point where he doesn’t do much cabinetry work, either. Just smaller pieces and some repairs on days when his hands are steady.” James crossed his arms, thinking. “You know, I can’t recall the last time a place came up for sale here in Cedar Creek. Lots of families have had kids move elsewhere, but there’s always been a son to carry on and keep the homeplace.”
“Jah, and what with the improvements it would take to convert that land for Titus’s sheep, I can’t see him building a new house, either.” Matt sighed. “Just thought I’d ask.”
James nodded and focused again on the seat he’d been covering. “If I hear of anything, I’ll let you know. We’d rather have Plain families buy land around Cedar Creek before English folks get wind of it being for sale.”
Matt headed for the side door. “Have a gut afternoon, James. See you around.”
The carriage maker’s face lit up. “Jah, you just might,” he replied. “If you’re watching out your window tomorrow night, could be you’ll see a Mardi Gras carriage going by. Imagine how your Aunt Abby will look riding in that!”
Chapter 9
Around one thirty on Saturday afternoon, Rosemary was trying not to let on that she was expecting Matt to call. While she had tried to dissuade him at the wedding, she intended to state her case firmly today—which was easier when he wasn’t gawking at her with his playful eyes. Or maybe she should ignore his call altogether…except if the phone kept ringing, Titus might pick up his extension in the barn. There was no reason to let Matt think she would ever change her mind, and no way to know what he and her father-in-law might have discussed when she was out of earshot. That left her at a distinct disadvantage.
While Titus hadn’t said anything more about moving to Cedar Creek, he had worn a smug smile all during dinner. What did that mean? Beth Ann had helped with the dishes and then returned to her sewing. Already she had finished three pairs of work pants for her dat, and she had nearly completed a new dress for the preaching service tomorrow, as well. As the young girl sat at the old treadle machine, which had belonged to her mother and to Alma’s mother before that, Rosemary envied Beth Ann’s ability to immerse herself in a task she enjoyed.
“You’re sure you don’t mind watching Katie while I work outside?” Rosemary asked. She had gardening to do—onions to thin out and peas to pick—which would keep her close to the phone shanty out by the road.
“She’ll be no trouble at all,” Beth Ann replied. “Katie plays with my spools and scraps. I can already tell she’s going to like her new dresses by the way she picks up leftover pieces of the lavender and gold we bought for her.”
“Jah, well…I’ll be back in a while. Denki for your help, Beth Ann.”
Katie looked up from the corner where she sat arranging fabric scraps. “I love you, Mamm!” she chirped.
Rosemary still got goose bumps every time her toddler said that. In a lot of Amish families, affection wasn’t openly expressed, but she believed it was important for Katie to know she was loved, and to express her feelings, too. “Jah, and I love you, too, punkin,” she replied. “Be a gut girl for Aunt Beth Ann while I’m in the garden.”
She fetched her baskets from the shelf in the mudroom. Out the door and across the yard she went, noticing how the grass already needed cutting—and goodness, what a crop of dandelions they had! She was just crouching at the outermost row of green onions when the phone rang.
Should she answer it? It might not be Matt—and if it was, what would she say to him? She had been riding such an emotional seesaw that she had no idea what words might come out of her mouth. If she let it ring, he would eventually figure out that she didn’t want to talk to him.
But if Titus answered, he would encourage Matt’s attentions.
Rosemary made it into the shanty just in time to keep the message machine from kicking on. “Jah, hullo?” she said breathlessly.
“It’s gut to hear your voice again, Rosemary. This is Matt.” He sounded so close he could have been calling from the other side of the wall while looking in the window at her. “I thought you might not answer. I didn’t mean to come on like a fire truck at the wedding.”
Rosemary closed her eyes. If she didn’t set him straight right off, there would be no convincing him that she meant what she said…and no way she’d be able to say what she meant. She hadn’t talked to a man this way since Joe had courted her, and she felt as nervous as a girl at her first singing. “You need to understand that Joe and I were so happy that, well— You’re a nice fella, Matt. But don’t get your hopes up.”
“You’re talking to me, though. That’s all I want for right now.”
Rosemary gripped the receiver. Why couldn’t she spell out her feelings—or just hang up?
“Ezra says you bake a better apple pie than your aunt Lois,” Matt continued, sounding comfortable and confident. “What’s your secret?”
“Brown sugar instead of white,” she replied without a second thought—and then she realized that he had cleverly kept her talking by changing to a safe, everyday topic. And what else had Uncle Ezra told him? Had Titus contacted him about moving to Cedar Creek? Her mind was spinning with so many possibilities that her tongue couldn’t seem to cooperate.
“What do you like to do in your spare time?” Matt asked. “Say, on Sunday afternoons?”
Was he going to ask her for a date? Planning to come to Queen City rather than attending tomorrow’s singing in Cedar Creek? On alternate Sundays when they didn’t have church, Amish families often went on longer visits, so maybe he was planning a week ahead. “Well…I don’t have an answer for that because—because I don’t have any spare time,” she blurted out.
“You know, I haven’t had much fun lately, either,” he replied. “I keep busy with my sheep and my dogs, mostly. Maybe if I had company other than Panda and Pearl, my life would take on more sparkle.”
Sparkle? Why would a Plain fellow care about that?
Rosemary recalled Matt’s shining brown eyes and wished they hadn’t looked so happy all those times he’d held her gaze on Thursday. His voice, low and smooth, w
as affecting her, too. But she couldn’t fall into any more conversational traps. “I saw plenty of single girls at the wedding who’d enjoy being with you,” she stated.
“I’ve known them all my life.” His reply was so clear, she could imagine him shrugging…tilting his head the way he had at the wedding, when he’d been listening carefully. “I’m twenty-two and I haven’t found the right woman, Rosemary. I have a wonderful-gut family—lots of girls as friends—but it’s time to start a home of my own.”
“Matt, I can’t just up and leave Titus!” she protested.
“Why not?”
Rosemary swallowed hard. It had been her idea to move in with Joe’s dat. The household chores had been overwhelming Beth Ann, and she’d believed that sharing their grief might help them all heal sooner. But she couldn’t explain such notions to Matt, could she? Her Joe had been five years older than she was, more reserved and settled than this fellow who was challenging her with his new ideas…his life-altering questions. Rosemary fidgeted with the pencil and scratch pad.
“Titus lived a gut long life with Alma,” Matt continued in a persuasive tone, “and no matter how hard you try, you can’t replace her. Not that Titus wouldn’t miss you, understand. And—”
“I never intended to replace Alma!” she blurted out. “It’s just that—”
“—I can see why you wouldn’t want to leave the area where you’ve lived for most of your life. So if Titus finds a place here in Cedar Creek—”
So Titus had talked to Matt about moving there. Rosemary’s lungs were running out of air, just as she was running out of ways to counter Matt’s ideas.
“—maybe I could move to Queen City!” he suggested gleefully. “Ezra says you’ve got a piece of land where you and Joe had planned to build a house. I can’t imagine you living in a new place or in Titus’s house after he leaves and trying to raise Katie alone.”
“Matt, you haven’t heard a thing I’ve said!” Rosemary blurted out. This conversation was getting way out of hand. “I’ll not be moving to Cedar Creek, and you’ll not be moving here, either. I—I have to go now!”
“Tell Katie that Panda and Pearl say hi!”
She banged the receiver down so hard the clatter echoed inside the tiny building. What a lot of nerve for Matt Lambright—whom she’d met only two days ago—to suggest that he could take Joe’s place even as he told her not to fill in for Alma! Rosemary stepped outside, but the fresh air did nothing to settle her emotions. In all her years with Joe, she had never felt so frenzied, so pushed into doing something before she was ready.
Joe was the slow-but-steady type. He did what needed to be done on the farm, ran his remodeling business, and relied on you to run the house. No challenges. No surprises.
Rosemary drew in a deep breath, glancing around the yard. No one else was in sight, so she could use this time in the garden to clarify thoughts that had boiled over like an unwatched pot. Truth be told, her husband’s reticence had irritated her at times. More than once Joe had planned a joint trip to town or had assumed she would help him with sheep chores when she had figured on canning vegetables with Mamm or had promised pies to the Clearwater Café.
But didn’t every wife figure on being inconvenienced now and again? Wasn’t it part and parcel of marriage that the man of the family made the decisions and the woman went along with them? Yet Matt didn’t seem to fit such a predictable mold…
Rosemary walked toward the garden again and was struck by the bright yellow-green of the leaf lettuce and the way the bean plants had popped out of the ground practically overnight. New growth…a fresh season, and all of it happening from the planting of seeds and the gentle rains God had provided at just the right time.
Maybe she was overreacting to Matt’s enthusiasm. By nature she was as bubbly and vibrant as her Katie, yet these past months she’d worn black clothing and stayed dutifully busy to keep her loneliness at bay. Her husband had provided her a good, steady life, but his own mother had remarked about how Joe and Titus seldom laughed out loud. As somber as a couple of crows perched on a hearse, Alma had said on more than one occasion.
Rosemary had met Matt only a couple of days ago, but she couldn’t imagine anyone comparing him to a blackbird at a funeral. As she knelt to cut lettuce for their supper, her thoughts returned to what Matt had said during his call. You bake a better apple pie than your aunt Lois…What do you like to do in your spare time?…I haven’t had much fun lately…
For sure and for certain, fun wasn’t one of Titus’s priorities. And hadn’t Mamm told her there was no future in staying with him? Matt was stating the same idea but with different words…more convincing reasons, even if he had tried to rush her into a relationship.
Still, she felt obliged to look after Joe’s dat. It was important for Katie to grow up near Joe’s family. Wasn’t it?
As she clipped some spinach, Rosemary had a flash of memory from the wedding, when Katie stood fascinated by the two black-and-white dogs…with Matt’s arm around her waist as he encouraged her. Her daughter had been so enthralled by those dogs and so enamored of Matt—so trusting. But what did a three-year-old know about love and life and what it took to get from one day to the next?
Maybe more than you realize. What if Katie has the right idea, reaching out to a man whose future shines as brightly as his eyes?
Rosemary blinked. How had her thoughts taken such a turnaround? Thank goodness there were so many onions to pull and peas to pick and radishes to gather and—
And when will you stop working all the time so you can start laughing—and loving—again?
Rosemary yanked so hard on a handful of green onions that their tops broke off. Was that Matt speaking in her thoughts? Had his pleasant conversation softened her heart, pointing out how lonely she had been these past several months? Still on her knees, she sank lower to regain control of her jumbled feelings. She drew a deep breath and began to pray, because she had no idea what else to do.
Chapter 10
Abby stepped back from the Mardi Gras carriage to study the arrangement of fake jewels she’d just glued to one of its doors. “Is that what you had in mind, James?” she asked, holding the cordless glue gun so it wouldn’t drip. “Seems to me, if we add one more row of the green beads as a border, it would finish off the design and cover the edges of the inset, too.”
“I knew you’d have the right eye for my trim work,” he replied, “even if you think a wicked witch ought to be riding in this carriage.”
Abby grinned. When had she ever spent a Saturday afternoon working in James’s shop on such a flamboyant project? “After sewing dark work pants for Matt and Sam all morning, this is a lot more fun—and certainly more colorful!”
When James smiled at Abby, her heart danced with anticipation. He fitted his epoxy gun with a very small tip and came to stand beside her. “I’ll secure the jewels you’ve set so far, so they’ll stay rock solid in place before you add the border.” He raised his eyebrows playfully. “You never know how fast this carriage might travel in New Orleans, considering how speedy it looks just sitting here in the shop.”
As their laughter rang out in the big, open workroom, Abby chose the same number of purple, gold, and green faceted stones for the design on the opposite door. While she had known James Graber all her life, today felt special. Since two days ago, the light in his eyes at the wedding supper, when he’d invited her for a ride, had lit up her imagination—her whole sense of who she was and what she might hope for.
“I’ve sliced some ham and made coleslaw for our picnic,” she said as she positioned three gold octagonal beads in the center of the inset. “And when Sam saw I was making fried pies, he threatened to come with us if I didn’t make him some, too.”
“The more, the merrier, right?” James’s eyes teased her over the tops of the carriage doors. “So what kind did you make him?”
What a fine face James had: the lines at the corners of his eyes crinkled and a dimple came out to play in ea
ch of his cheeks. Abby returned his gaze and then focused on keeping hot glue from dripping all over the carriage door. “Sam likes pineapple-lemon filling, so I made a batch of those, as well as a dozen or so with cherry, and another batch with apples and lots of cinnamon.” She squeezed the glue gun’s trigger to affix more beads. “That’ll give them enough for tonight’s dessert as well as some for tomorrow’s lunch after the preaching service. Barbara has a couple of midwifing visits over toward Clearwater today and Mamm’s planting flats of bedding plants in her greenhouse, so I’m the designated baker.”
“I can’t lose, whichever flavors you bring along, Abby,” James assured her. “It’s been a long time since I went on a picnic.” He was intent on squeezing out the clear epoxy in just the right amount, so he stopped chatting until he’d finished going around the beads she had affixed. “Emma and the folks seemed mighty surprised when I told them why I wouldn’t be at supper tonight. Surprised but pleased.”
Abby reminded herself that James’s social life was his business, yet she suspected he hadn’t taken anyone out since Zanna had abandoned him last October. “And your parents are doing all right? Your mamm is usually weeding her flower beds once it gets this warm.”
“Jah, she and Dat are usually glad to get out of the house, just to sit a spell on the porch of an afternoon. But they’re saying it’s still too chilly. They don’t have the energy they did last fall.”
Abby thought about this as she positioned lozenge-shaped purple beads between the gold ones she’d already glued. “Do you suppose that’s because of all the ruckus Zanna caused when she didn’t marry you?” she asked quietly. “I know it would’ve been a big change for them, having her in the house, but—”