“But they didn’t!” Edith cut in. She was blushing prettily, looking happy again. “If you continue in this direction, we’ll soon pass the new house Rebecca Oliveri lives in, and beyond that is the farmstead the Witmers own.”
Asa nodded, looking down the blacktop as the horse reached road speed. “Rebecca’s the gal who designs Web sites, right? I need to talk to her about setting one up for our furniture repair business.”
“Jah, she works fast—and she’s so reasonable, even Dat says she’s worth every penny,” Edith replied. “Never thought I’d see the day when he advertised online. He thinks computers are the root of all evil.”
Asa chuckled. “As with any tool, computers can be used for gut or for wicked purposes,” he remarked. “Seems to me the businesses in Willow Ridge are prospering largely because of Rebecca’s expertise—yet another sign of how progressive your town is.”
“Soon to be your town,” Edith said happily.
Asa felt immensely pleased at how easily they conversed. Soon they were driving into New Haven, the next sizable town. They enjoyed supper at the pizza place, and, by the time they were leaving, it was all he could do not to ask Edith if she’d marry him. His heart knew no other woman would ever suit him, but he wanted to do this right. Asa wanted Cornelius Riehl to see that he was capable of supporting Edith and their family, and—although it wasn’t traditional to ask for it—he hoped to receive her father’s blessing before he proposed.
They were pulling out of the parking lot when Edith gasped. “Oh! There’s someone behind those evergreens. I hope Dat’s not been following us on the sly.”
Asa turned quickly in the seat, but he saw no sign of anyone. “Do you want me to go back and look?”
She waved him on. “No, no! It might’ve been my imagination,” she admitted sheepishly. “Loretta caught Dat spying on her and Will once, when they were engaged, but I don’t see how Dat could have known where we were headed. You must think I’m pretty silly.”
“I think you’re pretty,” Asa countered, hoping to make her feel more at ease. “But I want to assure your father I’ve got the best of intentions, so there’ll be no running from him or hiding. At twenty-seven, I’m not a kid in his rumspringa, after all. You deserve a man who honors his promises—and honors you, too.”
Edith sucked in her breath. “Oh, Asa. What a lovely thing to say. Maybe if I quit ducking Dat’s sternness—face him square-on about my feelings for you—he won’t seem so intimidating anymore. You deserve a grown woman who states her convictions and stands by them, no matter who questions our relationship.”
Asa’s heart stilled. The clip-clop of Midnight’s hooves punctuated the pause that begged a very important question. “May I court you, Edith?” he whispered.
She tucked her arm under his, leaning into him. “I thought you’d never ask,” she said with a giggle. “I’m so happy I could just pop!”
* * *
When Asa entered the house to speak to her father, Edith remained outside to give them some privacy. As she gazed at the colors of the sunset, she prayed that Dat would listen to Asa . . . would believe that he was a decent, hardworking man who truly loved her.
The sound of the screen door closing made her look up. “How did it go?” she whispered as she joined Asa on the porch. “What did he say?”
Asa’s smile appeared subdued, but he sounded hopeful. “It’ll all work out,” he murmured as he held her gaze.
Edith nodded, sensing she shouldn’t ask him to elaborate. She said good night to Asa on the porch, knowing better than to kiss him. She watched him roll down the road in the buggy, however, briefly reliving the wonderful time she’d had talking and eating pizza . . . and agreeing to court him with the idea that they’d marry. Soon! Let it be soon, her thoughts sang.
“We need to talk, Daughter.”
Edith closed the front door against the chill of evening, reminding herself of how she’d decided to face up to Dat rather than cowering beneath his stern gaze. Loretta and Rosalyn, who’d put the babies to bed, sent her sympathetic glances from the couch. Loretta’s toothbrush “needle” moved swiftly in and out of the oval rug she was making, while Rosalyn sat alongside her keeping the long strips of fabric from tangling.
Dat gazed intently at Edith from his recliner. The oil lamp beside him flickered, making his crow’s-feet and facial creases more pronounced. “I’m only going to say this once, Edith,” he stated. “It’s too soon for you to be thinking of marriage to Asa Detweiler. What you perceive as love and devotion are merely the romantic fantasies of a young, inexperienced girl.”
Edith steeled herself against his criticism, knowing she had to tread carefully. “How old were you and Mamm when you courted?” she asked, although her mother had told her that story long ago.
“I was twenty-six and she was—but that was different!” he insisted. “We’d known each other all our lives.”
“Asa’s twenty-seven, and established in a business,” Edith ventured hesitantly. It felt so foreign, standing up to her father. “He’s buying the acreage and house across the road, and he and his brother are building their shop there.”
“But his whole scheme—this do-gooder inclination to raise those twins—is a ticket to disappointment!” Dat declared. “And he’s told me he’s gotten Will Gingerich involved, as well. I predict that someone in Will’s family will come to claim those babies any time now, and you and your sisters will be left heartbroken.”
Edith glanced at her sisters, who appeared very focused on Loretta’s rug. She didn’t expect them to speak up—they’d spent their lives obeying whatever Dat said, after all—but she felt very lonely and vulnerable. If only Mamm were here to buffer her father’s verbal blows . . .
Edith took a deep breath. “Asa came to speak to you because he—he doesn’t want you to think we’re sneaking around, or—”
“Puh! For generations, Amish couples have made their plans first and announced them to their parents later,” Dat interrupted. “Now that I know Detweiler’s intentions, I can disagree with them and thwart him every chance I get. You’re too young to marry him, Edith. End of discussion.”
Resentment swelled within her, a defiance she’d been taught to subdue all her life. Rather than hang her head and slip away in defeat, however, Edith let out the breath she’d been holding. With a last look at Dat’s inscrutable expression, she went resolutely to her room to check on the twins.
Leroy and Louisa slept sweetly in their bassinets. Edith felt such a fierce love for them, such a determination to see them through their trials and tribulations, that she had no inclination to cry over the cross words her father had just flung at her.
And that was a start, wasn’t it? For once she hadn’t cowered before him. She’d spoken her mind, quietly, though she’d gotten no valid answers in return—for her mother had been seven years younger than her father, only nineteen when they’d married. Just as Edith was.
Help me through this, Mamm, Edith prayed as she gazed out into the darkness. This will all work out for those who love the Lord—and for these precious little twins.
Chapter Thirteen
As church let out over at the Wagler place, Luke watched out the window while kids rushed from the house with whoops and whistles to release their pent-up energy. He recalled those three-hour Old Order services that had seemed endless when he’d been young. He greatly preferred the more concise sermons and services at the Mennonite fellowship he and Nora now attended. He turned toward her, smiling at the way she sat in the recliner with her shoes kicked off, reading a craft magazine.
“Ready to head next door?” he asked. “I’m hoping Will Gingerich has arrived—and it’ll be interesting to see how Cornelius is reacting to Asa’s being here for the weekend. Never a dull moment in that family, it seems.”
Nora dropped her magazine to the floor. “And I’m looking forward to a lot of gut food I didn’t have to prepare myself—and to visiting with everybody. It was such a busy week, I’
ve hardly seen my parents or the newlyweds.”
“We can guess where Ira and Millie have been hiding themselves,” Luke teased. “I’ll grab the lemon cake you made.”
“Hope it’s fit to eat. If it weren’t for box mixes, I wouldn’t bake.” Nora smoothed her apron over her colorful floral dress, chuckling. “The beauty of the common meal is that you don’t know who brought what unless they mention it. If folks make faces when they taste my cake, I’ll keep my mouth shut.”
As they walked down the hill to the Wagler place, Luke reveled in the brisk April morning. The lush green grass, cream-colored dogwood blooms, and the deep pink redbud trees made spring his favorite season. In a few more weeks the mid-Missouri heat would set in, and they’d be praying for rain. When they stepped inside the crowded Wagler house, Nora joined the ladies in the kitchen while Luke headed into the main room, which had been greatly expanded for church by taking down most of the interior walls.
The men were rearranging the wooden pew benches and setting up tables for the meal. Luke spotted Asa and made his way through the crowd, greeting everyone along the way. He noticed a shorter, compactly built fellow with sandy hair and observed the ease with which he maneuvered a long wooden bench. Was this Will? Even camouflaged by his white shirt sleeves, the muscles bunching in his shoulders suggested that this young man was well acquainted with physical labor.
“Hey there, Asa!” Luke spoke above the other men’s conversations. “Quick now! What were the sermons about this morning?”
Asa straightened to his full height, chuckling. “Bishop Tom preached on the parable of the prodigal son—about how God welcomes us all home when we see the error of our ways and ask His forgiveness,” he replied. “Your brother spoke on the virtues of being a gut Samaritan, helping folks who’re down on their luck.
“And this, by the way, is Will Gingerich,” Asa added as he gestured toward the sandy-haired fellow. “Will, this is your new boss and landlord, Luke Hooley.”
Luke stuck out his hand, sensing that Will hadn’t smiled so brightly in quite a while. He was a nice-looking fellow with a sad reserve about him—and a handshake that left no doubt about his physical strength. “Glad you made it for church, Will,” he said. “This is a tight-knit district of gut-hearted souls. You know they’re tolerant and forgiving if they allow a fellow who signed on with the Mennonites to come eat with them after church.”
Will chuckled before his expression waxed more serious. “I appreciate your taking a chance on me, Luke,” he said earnestly. “Lately I’ve felt like that fellow in Ben’s sermon who got beaten and left for dead, so it means a lot that you’ve offered me a job and a place to stay just on Asa’s recommendation.”
Luke returned Will’s steady gaze. The words of warning he’d planned—the rules he expected his new, untested farmer to follow—went unsaid. “Let’s chalk it up to God’s providence that some cropland came up for sale, and that you’re available to work it,” he remarked. “Maybe later today we can walk the farm, and figure out what crop will grow best in each field. I’ll show you your apartment, too.”
“Looking forward to it.” Will’s lips twitched. “I think I’ll sleep better now, without all the ghosts that haunted my other place—and where I can keep an eye on the twins. They already look so much healthier and happier than when I brought them here.”
Luke nodded. “They have a lot of guardian angels in Willow Ridge. Hard for folks to resist those bright eyes and cute faces.”
“You’ve got that right.” Will brightened. “Will you eat with Asa and me? We could compare a lot of notes and be readier for me to start work tomorrow if we talk now, jah?”
“I like the way you think, Will.”
As they devoured sliced ham, macaroni salad, and other cold dishes the women had set out, Luke enjoyed getting acquainted with Will. It amazed him that Gingerich and Asa seemed like close friends despite the accusation that had nearly brought them to blows last week. After they’d enjoyed some coconut cream pie and lemon cake, the three of them rose from the table. Luke wasn’t surprised that Asa made a beeline for Edith.
“Detweiler’s got it bad,” Luke remarked as he watched Asa pick up the twins’ baskets to follow Edith out the back way. Even as he joked about Asa’s devotion to his new girlfriend, Luke felt a twinge of envy because they already looked like a close family. Maybe someday he and Nora would make a baby. . . .
“You’re right.” Will’s response cut into his thoughts. “And Cornelius is taking bad to a whole new level.”
When Luke followed Will’s gesture, Deacon Riehl’s expression made his jaw drop. “Jah, Asa told me he’d stated his intentions after he brought Edith home from a date last night. He suspected she’d catch some flack after he left.”
“I think they’re both going to catch some now,” Will murmured, shaking his head. “It was the same for Loretta and me when Cornelius decided we shouldn’t be engaged anymore. I lost all claim to our farm when my brothers took it over, you see.”
Luke watched Cornelius follow Edith and Asa outside, wondering why the head of the Riehl family always seemed so unhappy. From outward appearances, he had a nice home, three caring daughters, and a clock business that was off to a prosperous start here in Willow Ridge— not to mention a steady income from the eggs they supplied to the mill store.
“Let’s head over to the farm,” Luke suggested as he stood up. “You’ll have time to get acquainted with folks after we finish our walk-around.”
Will smiled at the folks Luke introduced him to as they made their way between the tables. Once they were outside, they strolled quickly along the county blacktop. “I’m not much gut with names, but it seemed like most of the folks I just met are Hooleys,” he said lightly. “You and your brothers seem to be the pillars of Willow Ridge.”
Luke considered this as they passed the café. “We can’t forget about the women,” he said. “Without Miriam, my brother Ben wouldn’t have become nearly so successful—and I credit my Nora with the shaking up I needed to make the mill profitable. The gals here run their households, of course, but most of them are also engaged in some sort of business activity.”
“Really? That’s different,” Will murmured. “Most bishops wouldn’t allow that.”
“Bishop Tom finally convinced Miriam she should be staying home with their baby, Bethlehem, but before that she started baking around three every morning and didn’t go home from the café until about twelve hours later,” Luke explained. “Her sister, Leah Kanagy, takes a lot of homegrown produce to the farmers’ markets—and keeps bees. Seth Brenneman’s Mary makes Amish dolls for Nora’s shop.”
“And I suppose Loretta Riehl is still making rugs. And I bet Edith’s weaving her baskets when the twins aren’t keeping her busy,” Will said as he gazed wistfully toward the tall white house where they lived.
“Jah, and Nora’s selling those in her shop, as well. And meanwhile, here we are,” Luke said as he gestured toward his new farm. “I take possession of the place next week, but the previous owner’s fine with our getting into the fields while the weather’s right for planting. What do you think?”
Will stood at the roadside, taking a long look at the lay of the land . . . the stubble and dried stalks from last year’s crops. “Nice and flat,” he murmured. “Doesn’t look to have many low spots where water collects after a heavy rain, either. I hope it’s not a problem that I don’t have any draft horses or equipment. You probably wonder about the state of my affairs, considering how I packed all my earthly belongings into one buggy and wagon, which my two horses pulled.”
“Ira and I didn’t come to Missouri with much more than some bags of seeds and the clothes on our backs,” Luke said with a shrug. “Earlier this year we bought a team of mules from a fellow in Bloomingdale—east of Cedar Creek—and we latched onto some bigger planters at an auction, too. We finished planting our places east of town this week, so the mules and equipment are coming here next.”
“You’ve
got some of Jerome Lambright’s mules? Hot dog!” Will said with a grin. “I watched his teams perform at a farm show last year. Fine-looking animals—and they have a lot of endurance bred into them.”
“Jerome trained this team especially for farming. Picked them for their temperaments when they were first foaled, and kept the six of them together while he worked with them.” Luke liked the way this conversation was going. It was a point in Gingerich’s favor that he didn’t insist on working with Belgians, as some farmers did. “We’ll get the oats in first. By the time they’re planted, the weather’ll be warm enough to plant the corn and popcorn.”
Will studied Luke for a moment and then gazed out over the fields again. “You and Ira must be doing really well, considering how you came here with practically nothing,” he murmured. “It’s my dream to own my own farm someday, but my wife’s doctor bills and my family situation have set me back.”
Touched by Will’s pensive admission, Luke quickly gripped his shoulder. “Ira and I’ve been blessed by a lot of favorable circumstances we didn’t foresee when we came here. Let’s start believing that the same blessings will come your way now that you’ve moved beyond your troubles.”
“Denki for that thought, Luke,” Will murmured. “I’ll do my best to believe it—and I’ll do my best work for you and Ira, too.”
As they walked across the front field to assess the land beyond the house and the outbuildings, Luke sensed that Will Gingerich would be yet another blessing—another asset to his and Ira’s expanding mill business.
But you’ll have to keep Cornelius Riehl’s nose out of your business—and Will’s, he thought. If Riehl started in on Will about the circumstances of the twins’ birth—or what an inconvenience they were—Luke suspected his new farmer might lose his focus or want to leave town.
He kept this thought to himself as he and Will ambled back toward the Waglers’, where clusters of men sat in lawn chairs and kids played tag and hide-and-seek. When Will headed toward the girls who were playing volleyball—which included Loretta and Rosalyn Riehl, Savilla Witmer, Hannah Brenneman, Katie Zook, and Nellie Knepp—Luke had to smile at his instincts. All of those girls were single and would probably welcome Will’s attention, or his help on their side of the net.
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