Inside the kitchen, Remy stood at the counter slicing apples while Mary placed a platter of eggs on the table.
Adam sneaked up behind Remy. “If you’re here for your baptism, you’ve come a day too early,” he said.
She flinched, then swung toward him, a challenge in her green eyes. “You should know better, Adam King. Never sneak up on a woman with a knife in her hands.”
Adam put a hand on her shoulder. “Especially an English woman who has watched horror movies.”
“I’m not an English woman anymore,” Remy said. “Or at least, after tomorrow I won’t be. And I won’t miss horror flicks either.”
“So you’ve come to help us set up?” Jonah asked her.
“Of course! I want to know the inside skinny, all the dos and don’ts. I need to learn this stuff, right? We’ll be doing the same thing next year.” She sprinkled sugary crumbles over the apple slices, then popped the dish into the oven. “I can help until lunchtime, then I have to go into town for a meeting with Deacon Moses. It’s our last class—the wrap-up session before baptism.”
Jonah remembered that last class. This is your last chance to turn back, the deacon had warned. The ministers made it clear that it was better to back out than to make a vow and later break it.
Jonah hung his hat on a hook, washed his hands, then took a seat at the far end of the table as the family assembled for breakfast. Susie helped Katie into a chair. Adam had stored the high chair in the shed ever since two-year-old Katie started climbing out of it on her own.
Remy took her place at Adam’s right hand. From the far end of the table, Jonah observed the look that passed between Adam and his fiancée—a solid, steady love. Not the quick flame of attraction two people might feel at a singing, when people were cleaned up and having a good time. This was the kind of bond that would make it through hot summer days and long winter nights, through sorrow and joy.
Adam and Remy were a good match. He felt sure that they would be sitting together at that end of the table for the rest of their lives.
And where would Jonah be?
He knew he would always be welcome at this table, in this house, but a good Amish man was expected to find a wife and start a home of his own.
As everyone bowed their heads for a silent prayer of thanks before the meal, Jonah closed his eyes and tried to open his heart to Gott’s plan for him. In these past weeks he had believed he was getting closer to Annie, but he’d been wrong. What would it take for him to simply accept that it wasn’t his time?
Disappointment had darkened his mood for a while, but when he woke up this morning he’d cast it away like a snake in the grass. If he clung to bitterness, he would only become a bitter man, and that wouldn’t do anyone any good.
To everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven. Autumn was not going to be his season to win over Annie’s love. Apparently winter, spring, and summer hadn’t worked that way either, but he couldn’t complain. He would trust in Gott the Father … trust and pray that he wouldn’t end up at this table in thirty years, old man Jonah who’d never found a wife.
As soon as the prayer ended, Adam began assigning tasks for the day. Ruthie and Simon would sweep the barn while Gabe moved the animals outside. All the men would meet Uncle Nate when he arrived with the bench wagon, and they would load the benches into the barn before setting up tables in the house. Susie and Leah would help Mary clean the walls and floors, then attend to the windows.
“Ben said that most of their family is coming to help,” Gabe reminded Adam. “And Ruben Zook said they’d be here, too.”
In past years, the Zook family, their closest Amish neighbors, had come around to help prepare the house for church.
“This is going to be a very special church service because you’re getting baptized, Remy,” Ruthie said.
“And then you’ll be Amish?” Simon asked.
“She’ll be a member of our community,” Adam said.
“And Teacher Emma,” Ruthie said brightly. “She’s getting baptized, too.”
And Hannah Stoltzfus, Jonah thought. Annie must have reminded him of that at least thirty times in the past week. He knew the hidden meaning: Hannah, or any girl who got baptized, became an adult member of the community. That meant she would be ready to marry and start a family. Only a man with a brain of wood could miss Annie’s hint.
“What about your dress?” Susie asked Remy. “Is it ready for tomorrow?”
Remy nodded. “It’s hanging on a hook in my room.” She smiled across the table. “Denki for letting me borrow it, Mary.”
“We’ll keep it in the family,” Mary said. “I’m not sure Sadie will be using it, but it should fit the other girls when the time comes.”
“And if Susie and I get baptized in the same year?” Leah asked. “Who gets to wear the black dress?”
“You’ll each get half of it.” Mary cocked one eyebrow, but she didn’t crack a smile. “Which half would you like, Leah? The front or back?”
Leah and Susie looked at each other, then burst out laughing.
“When the time comes, we’ll have to make another dress, Mary,” Susie said. “Half a dress would be very drafty.”
The family joined in their laughter. All breakfasts weren’t so spirited, but everyone seemed to share the excitement of tomorrow’s big event. At least, everyone but Gabe. He had been distant lately, more quiet than usual, and Jonah had noticed that his brother did not look him in the eye. Something was going on with Gabe, and Jonah suspected it involved a girl. Jonah wasn’t able to help his brother on that one; that was one skill he didn’t carry in his toolbox.
As Jonah helped himself to a second baked egg, he was grateful for the banter that went on during the King family meals. If he did end up lingering at this table as an old man, at least he could look forward to lively conversation.
Jonah was finishing his second helping when the sound of a horse and carriage came from the lane. Simon popped up from the table and ran to the window.
“The church wagon is here!” he exclaimed. “And Ruthie and I haven’t swept the barn yet!”
“All in good time,” Jonah said, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “It will all get done.”
Adam gestured Simon to come back to the table. “Sit. Say a prayer of thanks, and then you can run and greet Uncle Nate.”
Outside, Nate was backing the church wagon up to the open barn doors with a precision born of practice and a well-trained horse. Sam was jumping up and down with excitement, and Katie copied her older brother, matching him jump for jump. A grin tugged at one corner of Jonah’s lips. It was good to see these young children enjoying life again.
A gray carriage had arrived behind Nate, and the rest of his family climbed out. Betsy and her daughters Rachel and Rose carried baked goods straight to the kitchen, while Ben and Abe came around to flank their father.
“What have we here?” Hands on hips, Nate looked down at the children. “All this hopping around, I thought I was looking at popping corn.”
“We’re not popcorn!” Sam rolled his eyes.
“Not popcorn,” Katie echoed.
“We want to see the benches,” Sam said, running along the flat black side of the windowless wagon. “Are they inside the wagon?”
“I certainly hope so.” Nate pushed his hat back to rub his brow. “Or else I’m going to have to go all the way back and get them!”
All the men pitched in to unload the benches and line them up in two separate sections inside the newly swept barn. The children wanted to help with the benches, and Jonah let them hold on to the sides a few times before sending them out to the yard to help Remy with the cleanup. While they were setting up, Dave and Joseph Zook arrived to lend a hand. One minute they were taking the first bench out of the wagon, the next there were two well-formed sections set up in the barn. Many hands make chores go fast, Jonah’s mamm used to say.
As people moved in and out of the barn, Jonah listened for the patte
r of another carriage—Annie’s carriage. Mary had mentioned that her friend was coming, and the thought of having Annie here on the farm magnified his joy of the day. He sincerely hoped she did not bring Hannah, but it would be good to see her here, in his familiar territory, in his world.
With the barn nearly finished, Jonah passed through the wide doorway, paused in the brisk, damp air, and listened. No sign of Annie’s carriage yet.
Tipping his hat back, he scanned the yard and saw three figures down on the lawn. He recognized Simon and Ruthie moving along the far reaches of the yard, trimming along the fence line with gas-powered weed trimmers.
At the base of the hill Remy wrestled with the reel mower. It looked like she was wiggling the long handle more than pushing it over the grass, which wasn’t getting cut. In a fit of consternation, she put her hands on her hips and stared at the mower as if it were a stubborn mule. Glancing up, she noticed Jonah on the ridge by the barn and waved him over.
He jogged down to her, mildly amused by her enthusiastic waving.
“I’m having a battle with this lawn mower, and so far the mower is winning.” She gritted her teeth and gave a push, but the wheels turned only a few inches. “Who decided that it was women’s work to mow the lawn?” she asked.
“I don’t know the answer to that, but it was probably a wise Amish man,” he teased.
“Exactly. I don’t mean to wimp out, but I have to leave soon and I’ve gotten nothing done.”
He stepped up and gave it a push. The mower squeaked, but it barely budged. “Ya, there’s something wrong there.” He squatted over the blades and gave it a quick assessment. “The wheels aren’t turning properly. Let me sharpen the blades and add some oil to the wheels,” he said, dragging it toward the toolshed.
“Denki. At the rate I was going, I wouldn’t have finished the job until after Christmas.”
Jonah was turned away from Remy, so he let himself smile. Had she always had this sense of humor, or had she been influenced by her time among the Amish?
“And that’s another question,” Remy said, struggling to keep pace with Jonah’s long strides. “If the use of gas-powered mowers is forbidden, why are those screaming weed trimmers allowed?”
Jonah shot a look at Simon, who aimed the machine at tall weeds near a fence post. “Again, I have no answer for you. You’re learning the riddle of Amish ways. The reason behind rules is not always logical or obvious. We follow rules because they are rules.”
“I’ve got that part down,” she said. “Rules are the real deal in the Amish world. I think I’ve managed to navigate the big rules. I’m good with the Ordnung. My big problem is the Pennsylvania Deutsch dialect.”
“They say it’s hard to understand if you didn’t grow up with it.”
“And I’ve studied the baptismal ceremony. If there was an exam on it, I’d ace it. But I’m still a little nervous about the baptism tomorrow.”
Jonah turned to face her. “Not that I’m unsure,” she said firmly. “I just don’t want to goof up and announce myself as an outsider during the service.”
He pursed his lips. In some ways, Remy McCallister would always be an outsider. Her fiery red hair announced it immediately. Then, once you spoke with her, any Amish person could tell she was Englisher by her choice of words and her attitudes. Within a minute or two of meeting her, most folk would know she wasn’t raised Amish.
Still, he had to admit that Remy was a special person. She had jumped into this new life, taking on duties and chores that would send most Englishers running.
“Don’t fret over the baptism,” he said. “If you don’t have the right words in German, speak English. Gott understands all languages.”
Remy cocked her head, her eyes wide with wonder. “What a beautiful thing to say.”
“Ya. And it’s true, too.”
“You are a man of few words, but they’re well chosen.”
“And you’ve come a long way from the girl who tried to milk a cow in my sister’s nightgown.”
She blinked. “Thank you, Jonah. It’s nice to get an ‘attagirl’ now and then.”
He nodded. “Attagirl.”
TWENTY-EIGHT
Although it was cold and rainy outside, the carriage was warm from the loaves of bread in the back, some just out of the oven. Annie had started baking before breakfast, having promised Mary that she would contribute fresh-baked bread for tomorrow’s church meal at the Kings’.
As Annie directed the horse down the lane toward the Kings’ farm, she sensed something different about this visit. Was it her? She no longer felt the heavy cloak of dread on her shoulders at the thought of seeing Adam. Since Remy’s mistake at the last church meal, Annie’s attitude toward the Englisher girl had softened. If Gott intended Adam to marry someone else, at least that someone was a very nice girl.
She slowed the horse as they approached the farmhouse and barn, which were both buzzing with people, like bees on a busy hive. Annie pulled up beside a row of horseless carriages and hopped down to the ground.
Simon came running out of the barn, holding his hat against the wind. “Do you want me to unhitch your horse?” he asked.
“That would be good, but first, will you help me carry bread inside?”
“Sure. How much you got?”
When she told him there were eight loaves, he dashed back to the barn and returned with his brother Sam. Annie’s heart melted at the sight of the little boy who trudged through the mud. He was a small version of his big brothers! Sam had grown so much since the last time Annie had visited with the family.
“Mind you don’t drop them.” Annie leaned down to place two foil-wrapped loaves in Sam’s arms.
“I can do it,” Sam said.
“Good.” When she turned back to the carriage, Simon already had the heavy basket of warm bread in his arms.
“Smells good,” he said.
“That batch is still cooling. Let’s go right into the kitchen.” Annie followed the boys in, amused at the way Sam walked slowly under the weight of the precious bread.
Even from the mud porch, Annie could hear the sounds of activity. Inside she found Mary sliding a tray into the oven. Remy washed dishes in the sink. Betsy King was rolling out dough at the kitchen table.
“We have bread!” Sam announced.
“Look at that! We’ll need it for sandwiches,” Remy said, with a friendly nod for Annie.
“Where do you want me to put this?” Simon asked.
“On the table.” Annie patted a spot at the far end of the table. Simon hoisted up the heavy basket, then went off to tend to Annie’s horse.
Mary clapped two oven mitts together and smiled in relief. “Denki, Annie. I knew I could count on you.”
Annie squeezed her friend’s arm. “You know I enjoy baking.”
Sam climbed onto a chair, his curious gaze on the dough. “Are you making gmay cookies?” he asked Betsy with obvious interest. Gmay cookies, sometimes called church cookies, were a favorite among children. Platters of the cookies were handed out to little ones halfway through the service, and the rest were served to everyone at the meal afterward.
“Ya. Do you want to help?” When he nodded, she sent him off to wash his hands.
“What can I do to help?” Annie asked. “Anything you need, Mary. I saw Leah and Susie outside washing windows. Your house will be clean as a whistle when everyone is done.”
“The house is good, but I’m worried about the barn. The children got a late start on the sweeping. Would you mind checking that it’s fit for church?”
“I’ll go along, if you don’t mind.” Remy wiped her hands on a dish towel. “I’m curious to see how everything will be set up for the baptism.”
“Then we’ll go check the barn together,” Annie said.
Just then the porch door opened without warning and men began to stream in.
Jonah was in the lead, his dark eyes cool and confident. His sleeves were rolled up and he wore a black vest. Annie smiled
a greeting, then stood back out of the way. He nodded, eyes narrowed as if he hadn’t expected to see her here. Granted, she wasn’t family, but Mary was her best friend, and how could one so young prepare a house for church without every friend and family member pitching in?
Jonah pointed to the daybed in the corner of the kitchen, and three men hoisted it off the floor and whisked it out the door.
“What’s going on?” Remy asked, and Annie remembered that this would be the first church service she had seen in the King house.
“They’re preparing the house for church,” Annie said. “Or at least for the lunch after church.”
“Ya.” Mary kept her eyes on her chopping. “Church will be in the barn, but we can’t trust this weather for the meal. The men will take down the wall and we’ll set up tables in here.”
“Hosting is such a major endeavor,” Remy said, smiling as Adam traipsed through the kitchen with the rest of the men.
As Adam smiled back at his fiancée, Annie braced herself for the familiar sting of jealousy … but the glum feeling never came.
Instead she felt happy for them. Annie could see that Gott meant Adam and Remy to be together.
“This is all really amazing, when you think about it,” Remy went on. “To think that every other week, a family goes through all of these preparations? From now on, I’ll appreciate church a little more knowing all the work that’s required to pull it off.”
“At least the hosting only comes around once a year,” Mary said.
While the women discussed the duty of hosting, Annie peeked into the living room. She was intrigued to see Jonah in charge. He knew what furniture had to be moved first, how to angle the pieces out the door, and where to store it. Adam, Nate, and a handful of other men and teenaged boys pitched in, but Jonah was clearly the boss.
Hannah should be here to see this, Annie thought. With his reputation for being the Quiet One, no one expected Jonah to be a leader. But here he was, the man in charge of church preparations. This was a side of Jonah that Annie wanted her sister to see.
“Should we head out to the barn?” Remy asked. There was such gentleness about her that Annie wondered how she could have ever felt cold toward this young woman.
A Simple Autumn: A Seasons of Lancaster Novel Page 16