“Jim, are you still there?”
“Yeah, Max. Just trying to digest this bit of news.”
“Carl said he’d be meeting with the woman again in a few weeks and should be able to tie things up then. My question is, would you and Linda be interested in a child that old? I know you had wanted a newborn.”
Jim blew out his breath and sank to the grass. “Whew! This is so sudden, and I’m not sure Linda would want an older child.”
“One isn’t that old,” Max said with a chuckle. “He’s still pretty much a baby in my book; and at his young age, it shouldn’t be that difficult for the little guy to adjust to his new surroundings.”
“What about a father? Is there one in the picture?” Jim asked.
“No. Carl said the woman severed ties with the baby’s father, and he’s married to someone else and living in another state. He’s signed away all parental rights to the child.”
“Hmm...”
“Talk it over with your wife tonight, and then give me a call with your decision.”
Jim frowned. “I hate to get Linda all fired up about something that might not even happen. It’s not a done deal with the mother yet, right?”
“Not quite.”
“And you’ll know something definite in two weeks?”
“I believe so.”
“Then I think it would be best if I wait to tell Linda until we know for sure that the woman is actually going to give up her son.”
“Sounds fair to me,” Max said. “I’ll get back to you as soon as I hear from Carl again.”
“That’d be great. Thanks.” As Jim hung up the phone, his mind swirled with mixed emotions. If the woman in Maryland decided to give them her child, they would have two reasons for making a trip to the East Coast—one to pick up their son and the other to visit his folks.
He was sure it would be a vacation they would never forget.
***
Naomi grabbed a stack of invoices Papa had asked her to go over. She had to take this time to get caught up on paperwork. Summer was not far off. Then there would be carloads and busloads of tourists flocking to their place of business. Some would be coming in merely to gawk at the curious Plain folks who ran the general store. Others would drop in to purchase something made by one of the locals. Papa didn’t care much for English tourists, but he said it was a free country, and it did help their business.
When the front door opened, Naomi looked up from her work, and her heart skipped a beat.
Caleb removed his straw hat and offered her a dimpled grin. “Gude mariye.”
She slipped from behind the counter and moved toward him. “Good morning. What can I help ya with?”
He glanced around the room. “Are we alone?”
Naomi nodded. “For the moment. Papa’s out back with the kinner. He could come inside at any moment, though.”
Caleb shrugged. “I’ll take my chances.”
“What are you needing?” she asked, feeling a bit impatient.
“I’m sorry about last Sunday and sayin’ I thought you were gonna end up an old maid. I didn’t mean it, Naomi. I just spoke out of frustration.”
She sniffed. “It’s okay. I understand.”
Caleb smiled. “Since this Sunday comin’ is an off-week and there won’t be any church, I’m plannin’ to go fishing at Miller’s pond. Want to join me there?”
Naomi released an exasperated groan and moved back to her wooden stool. “I can’t. You know that.”
Caleb leaned on the edge of the counter and studied her intently. “It’s not fair, Naomi. A woman your age should be having fun, not babysittin’ her brothers and sisters and be expected to slave away here as well as at home.”
Naomi felt her defenses rise, and she stiffened. “For your information, Caleb Hoffmeir, I like workin’ in this store.”
“That may be, but you should still have a little fun now and then.”
The back door creaked open, and Naomi jumped. “That’s Papa and the kinner . Look as if you’re buyin’ something,” she whispered.
Caleb grabbed a straw hat off the rack nearby and plunked it on the counter. “I’ll take this one,” he announced in a voice loud enough so Papa could hear. “My old hat’s seen better days.”
Naomi had just put Caleb’s money inside the cash register when her father came sauntering up front. He held Zach in his arms and was followed by Naomi’s younger sisters. He spotted Caleb right away and gave him a nod.
Caleb smiled in return and pointed to his new hat. “Last time I was here, you said I should buy a new one. Finally decided to take your advice.”
“I’d say it’s high time, too.” Papa set the baby on the floor, and Zach crawled off toward a shelf full of wooden toys. “Watch your brother now,” he said to Nancy.
Nancy and Mary Ann both knelt next to Zach, and Caleb turned his attention back to Naomi, giving her a quick wink.
She shook her head, hoping he would take the hint and leave. He just stood there gazing at her, however. “Want me to dispose of your old hat?” she asked.
“Naw. Think I’ll hang onto it awhile. I might decide to wear it for everyday and keep the new one just for good.”
“Makes sense to me,” Papa said.
Caleb grabbed the new hat off the counter, gave Naomi another wink, then headed out the front door. “See you around, Abraham,” he called over his shoulder.
Papa’s only response was a muffled grunt, and Naomi almost laughed out loud. Sometimes it amazed her the way a twenty-two-year-old man could act so big and smart one minute, and the next minute he was carrying on like a little boy.
***
As soon as Caleb pulled into his yard, he realized something was amiss.
Timmy, one of their goats, had gotten out of his pen and was running around the yard, baa-ing like crazy.
“Get back in your pen, you stupid animal, and leave my buggy alone!”
Caleb jumped down from his rig as his dad whizzed past, brandishing a buggy whip and hollering like the barn was on fire.
“What’s goin’ on?” Caleb called.
“That stupid goat was in my buggy, and he chewed up the front seat.” Pop jumped to one side as the goat whizzed past him and leaped onto a tree stump. He raised the buggy whip, but the critter took off before he could take aim. Timmy jumped onto the front porch, toppling a chair in the process. He raced back and forth two times, then ran down the other side and headed straight for Pop’s buggy.
“Oh no, you don’t!” he railed.
When Pop climbed in after him, Timmy hopped into the front seat and made a beeline for the back. Out the back side the goat went, tearing the canvas cover in the process.
Deciding to join the chase, Caleb sprinted after Timmy, with his dad right behind him. They cornered the goat near the barn, but when Caleb reached for him, the animal skirted away and took off again. Pop was on his heels, with the buggy whip swishing this way and that.
Caleb ducked to avoid being hit, but it was too late.
Snap! The whip caught Caleb’s left shoulder, and he winced. “Hey, it’s Timmy you should be after, Pop, not me!”
His dad halted. “I hit you?”
Caleb nodded and reached up to rub the welt that had already formed on his shoulder.
“I’m sorry, Son. Sure didn’t mean that to happen.”
“I know you didn’t do it on purpose,” Caleb said, forcing a smile. He’d never admit it, but the welt stung like crazy.
Timmy made another pass, this time right between Caleb’s legs. He leaned over and grabbed the goat’s back legs, and the animal hollered like a stuck pig.
“It’s off to the goat corral for you.” Caleb lifted the squirming animal into his arms and trudged toward the pen. If this were any indication of how the rest of his day was going to be, he might as well take the afternoon off. Only trouble was, he had tons of work to do. Now, thanks to Timmy the goat, he’d have his daed’s buggy to fix, as well.
“You’d better let
your mamm take a look at that shoulder. Don’t want to chance infection,” Pop called as Caleb headed to his buggy shop.
Caleb shook his head and kept walking. “I’ll be okay. It can’t be any worse than the bletschings I used to get when I was a boy.”
CHAPTER 6
As Caleb rolled out of bed the next morning, a stinging pain sliced through his left shoulder. He winced as he lifted one arm to slip on his cotton shirt. “Should have asked Mom to put some salve on it last night,” he muttered as he stepped into his trousers.
A short time later, he found his mother in the kitchen, slicing an apple crumb pie. His younger sisters, Irma and Lettie, were busy setting the table for breakfast.
“How ya feelin’ this morning?” Mom questioned. “Your daed never said a thing about the goat gettin’ out and him hitting you with the buggy whip ’til we went to bed last night.”
Caleb shrugged. “I’ll live, and Pop didn’t do it on purpose.”
“Of course not.” Mom pushed a wayward strand of grayish blond hair back into place and pulled out a chair. “Have yourself a seat, and I’ll put some peroxide on that welt. No doubt it’s hurtin’ this morning.”
Caleb’s manly pride called for denial, but he knew he’d be miserable all day if he didn’t get the pain to subside. Besides, as Pop had said yesterday, it could become infected if left untreated.
He undid his shirt and slipped it over his shoulder.
Irma, who was nine, let out a low whistle. “Ach, my! That sure looks elendich.”
“Never mind how pitiful it looks,” their mother scolded. “Run over to the cupboard and get some peroxide and salve.”
Irma and Lettie both stood near Caleb, each of them peering at his wound as though they’d never seen anything like it before.
“Hurry and get the salve,” Mom persisted as she gently washed the welt with a damp piece of cloth.
Irma trotted across the room and returned a few seconds later with both salve and peroxide.
The cold, stinging contact of the cleansing liquid caused Caleb to let out a little yelp.
“Sorry, but it’s really red, and this should keep it from getting infected.” Mom allowed it to dry a few minutes, then she slathered some healing salve on the area. “We should probably cover it with a bandage, but I don’t think we’ve got one large enough.”
Caleb slipped his shirt back in place. “That’s okay. It’ll be fine now. Danki, Mom.”
Her dark eyes held a note of sympathy. “Haven’t had to tend a wound on my oldest boy in ever so long. Still hurts me as much as it does you, ya know.”
“That’s what Pop always says when he gives me a bletsching,” Lettie said, wrinkling her freckled nose.
Mom patted the young girl’s arm. “It’s true. Neither your daed nor I take any pleasure in doling out punishment.”
“You punish us ’cause you love us—that’s what Pop has told me many times,” Irma interjected.
“And don’t you ever forget it,” Caleb said, giving his little sister a tickle under her chin.
She giggled and scampered away from the table.
Caleb had just poured himself a cup of coffee when his two younger brothers, Andy and Marvin, entered the room, each carrying an armload of firewood for the cookstove. Mom hadn’t begun using the gas stove yet, as she said she much preferred wood and wouldn’t use propane until the summer days became too warm.
“Say, Caleb, Bishop Swartley’s outside waitin’ to see you,” Andy announced.
“Why didn’t you invite the man in for a cup of coffee or to join us for breakfast?” Mom asked.
Marvin gave Mom a look that resembled a young boy rather than a nineteen-year-old man. “I did ask, but he says he’s in a hurry and needs to speak to the buggy maker.”
Caleb pushed his chair away from the table. Even though Andy and Marvin worked part-time in his shop, many of their customers wished to speak with Caleb instead of his brothers who didn’t know a lot about the business yet. “Keep a plate of breakfast warm for me, Mom,” he said on his way out the door.
Caleb found Andrew Swartley standing beside his buggy with one eye squinted, his nose crinkled, and lips set in a thin line. The straw hat on the man’s gray head sat at an odd angle, nearly covering his other eye.
“What can I do for you, Bishop Swartley?” Caleb asked as he strode alongside the elderly man.
“Got a little problem with my buggy wheel.” The bishop motioned to the left side of his rig. “It wobbles something fierce.”
Caleb squatted down beside the wheel. “Looks like you’re missing a couple spokes, and the wheel is bent besides. What happened?”
The bishop cleared his throat a few times and dragged the toe of his black boot in the dirt, much like a young boy might do when he was caught doing something wrong. “Well, it’s like this.... Me and Mose Kauffman were havin’ ourselves a little race the other day, and I kinda ran off the road and hit a tree.”
Caleb nearly choked on the laughter bubbling in his throat. He knew a lot of the younger Amish men raced their buggies against one another, but the bishop was eighty-two years old, for goodness sake. He ought to have better sense.
Fighting for control so as not to appear disrespectful, Caleb clenched his teeth.
“Think you might be able to fix it while’s I wait?” the bishop asked.
“I suppose I could. Since Pop and my brothers finished most of the planting yesterday, I’ll have Andy and Marvin’s help today.” He motioned toward the house. “Why don’t you come inside and have some breakfast with the family? After we eat, me and the boys will get right to work on your buggy wheel. You can sit on the front porch and visit with Pop, if he don’t have too many other things to do, that is.”
Bishop Swartley smiled, revealing a gold crown on one tooth that sparkled in the sunlight. “That sounds right gut to me.”
Caleb grinned and followed the bishop inside. On days like today and despite the pain in his shoulder, he felt really good about the occupation he’d chosen. Truth was, he didn’t think he’d be happy doing anything else.
***
“Hand me that packet of peas, would you?” Naomi said to Mary Ann.
“I’ll get it.” Nancy grabbed for the package, which had been left on the grass, while Naomi made furrows in the dirt to plant the peas. It should have been done weeks ago, but there hadn’t been time.
“Hey, Naomi asked me to get those!” Mary Ann grappled for the peas, and in so doing, spilled the whole packet.
“Now look what you’ve gone and done,” Nancy said, shaking her finger at her younger sister.
Naomi stood and arched her aching back. She was in no mood to referee a quarrel between the girls. “Please, pick up those peas, and be quick about it—both of you.”
“But it was Mary Ann who spilled them,” Nancy protested.
“It wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t grabbed for ’em first,” Mary Ann countered.
“Enough!” Naomi shouted. “I’ve had about as much as I can stand.”
The girls became silent, but Naomi could see by the frowns on their faces that neither was happy with the other. They were probably miffed at her, too.
Papa had closed the store today so he could help the brothers get some of the plowing and planting done in the fields. Naomi thought at first he would expect her to take the kinner to the store and manage things on her own, but he’d suggested she stay home and get caught up on things needing to be done. She’d been hard at work since breakfast, and nothing had gone right. She’d dropped a shoofly pie on her clean kitchen floor, Zach had been difficult to get down for a nap, and ever since she and her sisters came to the garden, all they’d done was bicker.
I wish I’d been an only child, Naomi fumed. She was tempted to haul both girls into the kitchen and give them a bletsching but figured that wouldn’t help things any. Maybe it would be best to separate them awhile.
“I’ll tell you what,” Naomi said as she knelt next to Mary Ann and
helped rescue the peas. “Why don’t you and I finish this job, and Nancy can go inside and start lunch?”
Nancy thrust out her lower lip. “By myself?”
Naomi nodded. “You’re ten years old now and gettin’ quite capable in the kitchen. I think you’ll do a gut job making lunch for everyone.”
Her sister’s eyes brightened. “You really think so?”
“Sure do.”
“I’ll ring the dinner bell when the meal’s ready.” Nancy hopped up, brushed the dirt from her apron, and sprinted for the house.
Naomi released a weary sigh. At least that problem had been solved.
***
“I don’t see why we can’t use Midnight in the fields,” Norman complained to his father as they walked toward the house for their noon meal.
Abraham gave an exasperated moan. “If I’ve told you once, I’ve told ya a hundred times. That horse is not yet broke. Have you forgotten the way he acted up the other day when you tried to hitch him to the buggy?”
“How’s he ever gonna learn if we don’t put him to work?”
“He’ll be put to work when he’s broke.”
“Papa’s right,” Matthew put in. “I’ve been workin’ with Midnight whenever I have free time, but it’ll be awhile before he’s ready to pull a buggy.”
“All good things take time,” Jake put in.
“I’ll be glad when I’m on my own,” Norman grumbled. “Then I can do whatever I want.”
Abraham grabbed Norman by the shirttail. “What was that?”
The boy shook his head. “Nothin’, Papa.”
“Seems here of late, all you do is gripe and complain. If you’re not careful, I’ll be sendin’ you to the store with Naomi every day, and I’ll stay here to help Matthew and Jake.” The thought of farming appealed to Abraham more than he cared to admit, but he’d made a commitment to run the store, and for Sarah’s sake, he’d see it through. She’d loved the place, and he was committed to keeping the business going in memory of his precious wife.
If only life weren’t so full of disappointments. Norman might think he’ll be able to do whatever he wants when he’s a grown man, but he’s in for a big surprise.
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