Rosemary Opens Her Heart: Home at Cedar Creek, Book Two

by Naomi King

  Rosemary’s heart stilled. These women were no different from her friends in Queen City. They loved to sew, and they loved to help their neighbors—mostly while they talked. And they had already included her in their circle…

  Considering how she spent most of her days in a quiet house with Katie, the noise level here was amazing. Rosemary recognized many of the faces she’d seen at Zanna’s wedding and Preacher Paul’s funeral. “Let me see if I’m remembering names and connections,” she said. “Zanna’s your younger sister, and the lady at the sewing machine is your mother, Treva, who owns the greenhouse out by the road.”

  “Jah,” Abby confirmed. “So who’re the gals at the table with your aunt Lois?” Abby asked, testing her.

  Rosemary thought for a moment. “The one in the thick glasses lives across the blacktop—Eunice, isn’t it?”

  “Right again. She’s James and Emma’s mamm.”

  “And then there’s Bessie Mast in the teal dress, and Beulah Mae Nissley—Preacher Abe’s wife, who runs the other café—and Adah Ropp.”

  “And that’s Emma, with the light brown hair, sitting beside Mary and Martha Coblentz,” Abby continued, gesturing to the table beside the one where the older ladies sat. “The twins are easy to remember on account of their red hair. So, see? You’re getting us all down pat, Rosemary.”

  Abby again drew the rotary cutter over her stack of fabric, forming more squares. “I hope that makes you feel gut about coming here. You’ll be just as uprooted as Beth Ann when Titus moves—maybe more so, since you’ve lived in that area all your life,” she added softly.

  Something made Rosemary stop before insisting that she could stay behind in Queen City if she chose. While Abby, as a single woman with her own home, would understand that idea better than most, Rosemary decided to ride on this wave of contentment…this gathering of souls who served the Lord today by making a quilt for a friend who was leaving them. “We’ll all have our difficult moments,” she remarked, “because, for sure and for certain, we’ll find unexpected reminders of Joe and Alma while we’re packing up.”

  “Jah, that’s why Matt and Sam and the other fellas are over at the Bontragers’, helping Perry deal with his dat’s equipment,” Abby remarked. “Moving from one place to another gets overwhelming if you take it on by yourself. It’s a gift to have the help of friends. And it’s a lesson we all need to learn, about accepting that help.”

  Rosemary pulled a large piece of thistle-colored twill from the box on the floor. While Abby wasn’t pointing any fingers, her comment felt like a shoe that had grown too tight. It had been a while since she’d allowed anyone to help her. She stayed too busy, proving she could handle life’s major changes all by herself…

  At the table next to theirs, three women about Abby’s age had gathered to cut and hem flat diapers from bird’s-eye cotton. “I don’t know how we’re gonna manage if the lot falls to Carl to be the new preacher,” the woman with black hair remarked as her needle flew along a diaper’s hem. “It’s all he can do now, what with farming for the Grabers and Pete Beachey and raising his ducks for specialty restaurants.” Her brow puckered as her voice rose. “And now that Perry’s moving, Titus Yutzy has asked Carl to work up more of those fields and plant them in pasture grasses as soon as he can get to it. He’s got no time to learn how to preach, believe me.”

  “That’s Marian Byler,” Abby murmured into Rosemary’s ear. “She makes the scented soaps we sell in the mercantile, and her little baby’s name is Bessie. And beside her is Hannah Hartzler, Mose’s wife, and Eva Detweiler. They were all in my class in school.”

  Rosemary nodded, still listening to the three women with her other ear. “I can understand their concern,” she murmured. “Preaching is a big job and it takes a lot of time.”

  “Jah, it’s the same with my Mose,” Hannah agreed as she laid out another length of the cotton to cut more diapers. “What with his chimney sweeping and doing tuck-pointing and masonry repair when he’s not laying brick for Amos Coblentz, he’s not home enough to study up for preaching—not that I could see him standing in front of folks to deliver the message of a Sunday morning,” she added wryly. “He’d be so scared, he’d jump out of his skin!”

  Hannah’s two companions laughed loudly enough to attract the attention of the other women in the room.

  “Same could be said for my Zeke,” Eva Detweiler chimed in as she snipped a thread. “That man catches himself coming and going, installing dairy equipment in Clearwater and Bloomingdale—and everywhere in between. And now that Joel’s too big for me to heft in and out of his wheelchair, well—” Eva’s slender face furrowed with concern. “Seems the Lord has already given us plenty enough work, and we’ve got more expensive surgeries in the future for our son. I’m hoping nobody mentions Zeke’s name to the bishop when he sets up for the drawing of the lot.”

  “You know who I think would make a gut preacher? Sam Lambright!” Hannah declared. “Takes a fella with some age and experience to lead a congregation.”

  Adah Ropp, who was carrying cut squares and triangles for Treva to sew, countered the idea. “Jah, but with Vernon and Abe getting up in years, we might do better having a younger fella—”

  “But it’s no different for Sam,” Marian pointed out. “Who’ll mind the mercantile while he’s tending to folks who need confession? Or—”

  “Zeke says the men are in a stew about picking a new preacher, too.” Eva spoke shrilly above the other ladies. “True enough, when a man marries, he vows to accept the role of preacher or deacon if the lot falls to him. But when you’re young, you’ve got no idea what you’re agreeing to.”

  Rosemary noticed that Abby had stopped cutting quilt pieces as she followed this conversation. She wasn’t surprised when her friend stood up, clasping her hands in front of her crisp white apron. “Ladies, we’ve got no reason to wear ourselves into a frazzle over picking a preacher.”

  Abby had by no means raised her voice, yet her tone quieted the entire room. All hands went still. Treva stopped pumping the treadle of her sewing machine. The three young women at the next table looked a little sheepish, but they turned in their chairs to hear what Abby would say next.

  “It’s a wonderful-gut thing, the way the Ordnung maps out our path when it comes to important matters of our faith,” she continued. Her voice projected the same warmth and confidence that shone on her face as she spoke to the roomful of women. “And it’s best for everyone—men and women alike—that God chooses our leaders, ain’t so? Who among us could possibly pick the best replacement for Paul Bontrager? And who would serve, or let her husband serve, if we allowed our personal concerns and excuses to pile up?”

  A lot of the women had lowered their eyes. Rosemary noticed, however, that no one looked ready to challenge Abby’s opinion. Instead, each of them had been moved to consider what she’d just said.

  “Jah, my excuse pile gets mighty high some days,” Adah remarked.

  “I’d be a lot better off if I let God do His job—every single day,” Zanna said from her spot in the corner. “And it’s a gut thing I don’t have to pay His wages, too. My rug money wouldn’t go far!”

  Rosemary chuckled with the others. “It’s like when we take on caring for folks in our extended families,” she ventured. “We can’t think about the cost—or the wages that go by the wayside—in the case of a fellow being picked as a preacher. We trust that God will see to everyone’s needs when we can’t and that He’ll provide us the best opportunities to grow in our faith. Even when we don’t much feel like growing, jah?”

  Where had that sentiment come from? And why had she felt compelled to share it in this roomful of women she barely knew? Rosemary wasn’t sure about those answers, and yet…most of the gals around her were nodding.

  “You said a mouthful, Rosemary,” Abby remarked. “A new friend’s voice can refresh us like a breath of springtime.”

  “Jah.” Beulah Mae Nissley spoke up. “Sometimes we don’t realize how we
gripe about the same worries day in and day out—not that it improves our lives any. With Titus taking over the Bontrager place, bringing you three girls along, why, we’ll not be missing Preacher Paul’s family nearly so much.”

  “Gettin’ an old friend back amongst us, too,” Bessie Mast joined in with an enthusiastic nod. “We’ll not be concerned about the new folks in town being somebody we don’t know, or English snapping up our land. It’s a blessing all around, your coming to Cedar Creek, Rosemary.”

  “Matt could’ve told you that, Bessie!” Ruthie piped up from her corner.

  Rosemary felt the heat rising into her face, yet it seemed everyone gazed at her with a whole new interest. How long had it been since she’d felt so welcome—even if these women seemed to know a lot more about her situation than she knew about theirs? True enough, they assumed she would be coming along with Titus and probably didn’t realize she had the option to build her own house. Yet once again she didn’t feel like bringing up that subject.

  “Seems to me we’ve got another frolic or two in our futures,” Barbara said from the kitchen doorway. “What with the Yutzys moving into a different home, wouldn’t it be nice if they had fresh curtains and quilts and rugs?”

  “What a gut idea! I’ll hold a sewing frolic,” Zanna offered. “It’ll be a chance for all of you to come see our new house.”

  “I’m thinking a bunch of us could make quick work of painting over there, too, once Salome and Perry have moved out,” Phoebe said, grinning in Rosemary’s direction. “It’ll be a snap with all the furniture gone. And Owen’s got the ladders and tools we’d need, too.”

  “I love to paint,” her sister Gail chimed in. “It’ll be a painting party!”

  “I’m in on that one,” one of the redheaded Coblentz twins volunteered, and her sister beside her said, “Jah. I’d rather be rolling paint on a wall than trying to keep itty-bitty quilting stitches looking the way they’re supposed to.”

  “And if we do these frolics after the lot falls to the new preacher, think about what all we’ll have to talk about,” Eunice Graber remarked in her reedy voice. “I can’t climb a paintin’ ladder no more, just like I can’t see gut enough to quilt. But I can chat with the best of ya.”

  Friendly laughter filled the big room, and it seemed to Rosemary that within the last few moments her attitude, and maybe her whole future, had shifted in a wonderful way. How had that happened? While Abby had set up today’s frolic out of the kindness of her heart, she couldn’t possibly have planned the generous suggestions that would transform the house on the Bontrager place into the Yutzys’ new home.

  “Come fill your plates,” Barbara suggested, waving them all toward the kitchen. “What with Salome feeding the men as thanks for helping Perry today, we’ve got ourselves an all-day hen party. Denki to all of you who brought dishes to share.”

  As they surged toward the door, where heavenly aromas of chicken and cheese and hot rolls welcomed them, Rosemary suddenly became the center of attention. Every woman present asked if she needed help packing and moving—or unpacking when their furniture got to Cedar Creek. Who would have dreamed that women she’d met only at a wedding and a funeral would offer to travel all the way to Queen City with boxes Sam had emptied in his store? As she took helpings from a variety of casseroles, salads, and goody trays, Rosemary couldn’t recall the last time she’d felt so singled out for so many blessings.

  Beth Ann, too, was having a fine time with Ruthie, Zanna, and Mary and Martha Coblentz—so caught up in their chitchat that she’d forgotten her qualms about leaving her school friends in Queen City. It was a sure sign she would do just fine in her new hometown when she scooped Katie to her hip and loaded her plate, talking to the younger girls without once sending a desperate look in Rosemary’s direction.

  They ate in the front room, everyone visiting back and forth while exclaiming over the chicken-potpie casserole, the cheesy hash browns with ham, and of course the sweet rolls with pineapple and cream cheese filling and the turtle brownies oozing with caramel and crunchy pecans. While Rosemary had enjoyed Zanna’s wedding feast, this informal lunch with her new friends, seated around Barbara Lambright’s front room, tasted better than anything she’d eaten in years.

  As she joined those who were carrying their dirty plates and silverware toward the kitchen, Rosemary felt a hand on her elbow. “Emma!” she said. “I’m glad to finally meet you and chat a bit, since it seems we’ll be neighbors before the summer’s out.”

  Emma stepped out of the stream of women with her, to stand back beside the sewing machine where it was quieter. She studied Rosemary’s face for a moment. “So—you’re Matt’s new girlfriend, are you?”

  Emma’s tone and question sounded rather abrupt, after hearing all the other women welcome her and offer to hold frolics. “Might be a little soon for saying that,” Rosemary hedged. “You know how girls Ruthie and Beth Ann’s age like to carry on when there’s the least hint of a romance—”

  “Just thought I’d give fair warning about what you might be letting yourself in for.” Emma stood slightly taller than Rosemary, and she was taking advantage of every inch as she gazed down her nose. “You see, with Matt the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence. He’s got an eye for gals who live anywhere other than Cedar Creek, so once you move here with Titus—well, things might change once you’re on my side of the fence, Rosemary.”

  As Emma stepped toward the kitchen again, Rosemary had the feeling she’d just been taken down a peg or two by a young woman who’d wanted to win Matt’s affections and now felt rejected. Was it true, what she’d hinted about Matt? Or had that been Emma’s disappointment talking? As Rosemary listened to the cheerful chatter all around her, she decided not to let the old adage about greener grass and fences dampen the rest of her day. If Emma had a problem with Matt, well, it was her problem.

  While Eunice Graber and Aunt Lois redded up the kitchen, Barbara mixed the punch and arranged plates of cookies for Salome’s shower. The rest of them cut border strips from a bright fuchsia twill Abby had brought over from the mercantile, while Rosemary pressed the finished blocks of the Friendship Star quilt top so Treva could stitch them into rows. By two o’clock, the rows had all been joined and the outer border was sewn on. An entire top for a queen-sized quilt had been completed in a single morning.

  As Phoebe and Gail held the upper corners high to display their project, Rosemary’s heart beat joyfully. “What a beautiful gift!” she exclaimed. When Beth Ann looked up from her rag rug, she sprang from her chair to see the quilt top from a better distance.

  “Oh, Rosemary,” the girl murmured, grabbing her hand, “that mix of bright colors is like nothing we’ve ever had at our house. Mamm and her sisters always used up the old clothes for quilts and rugs.”

  Abby came up beside them, a sly smile lighting her face as she lifted the rug in Beth Ann’s hand. It was rectangular, already more than a foot wide and two feet long. “Jah, and look at how far you’ve come with your mamm’s fabric strips, too. And you just learned how to crochet them this morning!”

  As all the other women complimented Beth Ann on her rug, Abby leaned toward Rosemary. “If you’ll let me know which colors she likes best, I’ll pick out the border fabric and the brightest of our remnants at the mercantile,” she murmured. “It’ll make the move easier if her new room has a fresh quilt and—”

  “Oh, Abby,” Rosemary exclaimed, “everyone’s already done so much by setting up another sewing frolic, offering to help us pack, and organizing a painting party.” Rosemary couldn’t swallow the lump in her throat. “How can I ever repay you for so much kindness and—”

  “You can accept our gifts in the spirit they’re given.”

  “But at least let me buy the fabric for Beth Ann’s quilt,” she pleaded. “You’ve been such a gut friend to the both of us.”

  Abby shrugged. “Sam just got in a big shipment of cotton prints, so I have to clear out some of our older stock to m
ake room. And besides,” she added as she slung her arm around Rosemary’s shoulder, “you’ve already given us a gift of yourself by focusing on the positive points of serving God. You’re an inspiration to us all, you know—the way you took on Titus’s household and raising his daughter.”

  Rosemary blinked. “I did what somebody had to do for Joe’s family.”

  “You opened your heart where a lot of daughters-in-law wouldn’t have,” Abby pointed out. “You could’ve stayed with your mamm and your sister. Or you could’ve caved in to your grief. But you chose to serve,” she insisted. “And meanwhile, because Beth Ann didn’t have to run her dat’s household at the age of twelve, she has a chance to be a young girl yet. That’s quite a gift you’ve given her, Rosemary.”

  Again her heart thudded in her chest. When had anyone ever told her she’d made an important difference in someone’s life? “Denki, Abby,” she whispered. “And many thanks for making Beth Ann your special project, too.”

  Abby winked. “Just maybe I have an idea about how she can spend her summer, once she gets settled in her new home.”

  And what might that mean? Rosemary looked again at the beautiful quilt top as Phoebe and her sister draped it carefully over one of the long tables. Wasn’t it a fine thing, what they had accomplished with the work of their hands?

  When Salome Bontrager arrived with her young son and daughter, she couldn’t say enough in praise of the quilt. Her gratitude and bittersweet tears struck a chord with Rosemary. She, too, felt caught between going and coming, standing with a foot still in the life she knew while stepping into an unknown future whether she was ready or not.

  She knew now that she was moving to Cedar Creek. Just as the triangles and squares formed the blocks of that Friendship Star quilt—and just as the rows fit together with a balance of dark and bright colors, framed by a border the color of the redbuds in Matt’s pasture—Rosemary’s heart and soul had pieced together her decision before her mind could resist again. Abby and the other women had shown her a new vision of home, and she now believed she could live here quite happily, no matter how Emma Graber had tried to warn her away from Matt.