A Simple Autumn: A Seasons of Lancaster Novel

by Rosalind Lauer

  Cracking an egg into the big bowl of yeast mixture, she began to hum a song from the singing called “Somebody Cares.” Her high-pitched voice had never prompted much attention at a singing, but she could carry a tune just fine. The lyrics spoke to her in a new way this morning.

  “Somebody knows when your heart aches,

  And everything seems to go wrong;

  Somebody knows when the shadows

  Need chasing away with a song;

  Somebody knows when you’re lonely,

  Tired, discouraged, and blue;

  Somebody wants you to know Him,

  And know that He dearly loves you.”

  No matter what the problem or how bad she felt, she could take comfort in Gott’s love. Her problems weren’t so bad, and in some ways she had brought them on herself. She beat the ingredients, stirred with all her might, then paused to add flour.

  Foolishness … she had been full of it, acting like a fool. She’d been so proud of her matchmaking skills, when the truth was, she’d made a bad match. She had pushed together two people who didn’t have special feelings for each other. Hannah had tolerated her plan, but Jonah … that poor man had walked into a trap. It was a wonder that he didn’t think she was verhuddelt.

  But no, Jonah had made it clear that he didn’t think she was crazy at all. In fact, it was just the opposite. He said he had a fond spot in his heart for her. How did he put it? He’d wanted to sit near her ever since grade school. He said something nice about her eyes and her hair … hair the color of wheat.

  That was wonderful good—not at all what she’d expected to hear from Jonah King.

  Dumping another cup of flour into the bowl, she stared through the cloud of powder. She needed to keep a clear view of things, and that meant realizing that Jonah had played along with her plan. Even if he did fancy her, he had let her make a fool of herself, and now … now she’d have to face him when he showed up to work.

  As she set the dough on the warming stovetop and covered it with a dishcloth, she wondered how she would face Jonah King. Today was her day to mind Levi and feed the men lunch.

  How she dreaded seeing Jonah.

  Besides, there was Hannah to think about. Jonah had been her first real suitor, and Annie couldn’t imagine her sister’s disappointment when she learned that it was over almost before it started.

  Poor Hannah! And here Annie had been feeling sorry for herself because she looked foolish. Hannah had lost her first fella.

  Humming her song, Annie set to work preparing the kitchen for breakfast. She filled the scuttle with wood and started a fire in the potbelly stove. She ventured out to the henhouse to gather fresh eggs, then lit the fire under a fry pan of scrapple. She combined walnuts, brown sugar, almond extract, and cinnamon to make the filling for her nutty cinnamon bread.

  Then came time to knead the risen dough. She punched it down a few times and divided it in half. She pressed half of the dough into the pan, sprinkled the sugary topping onto it, then patted the top layer of dough in place. Twenty minutes in the oven was all it took.

  The house began to awaken with creaks overhead, and she heard Dat’s footsteps on the stairs. Soon Daniel, Rebecca, and Levi would head over from the little cottage, which was cozy for sleeping but had no kitchen. Annie decided not to tell anyone of her decision just yet. Sarah and Perry would get their letter, but otherwise, Annie would keep it to herself.

  “Good morning, Annie girl.” Dat plodded into the kitchen, his face looking about as ashen as his graying hair.

  “Morning, Dat. Your favorite bread is baking in the oven.”

  “Nutty sinner man bread?” He nodded. “I thought I smelled cinnamon.”

  Although his words were kind, his soft smile was missing, as was his energy. As soon as he poured himself a cup of coffee he went over to the corner rocking chair in the living room. A moment later he was settling in, staring down at an old copy of The Budget, a newspaper that covered happenings in Amish and Mennonite communities around the globe.

  Dat stroked his beard as his eyes slid closed. When had her father become so gray, so tired … so old?

  Had Annie had her eyes closed these past few years? Dat had aged. So had everyone. She herself would be twenty-one next year, an odd turning point for a single Amish girl. Although she still lived with her parents, she would be allowed to open her own bank account in town and keep her own money. Folks would be watching and wondering what was so wrong with Annie Stoltzfus that she couldn’t find a fella to marry.

  Frustrated, she ducked out to the storeroom, frowning in the dim light. She had to stop worrying about these things. Tiptoeing to reach the jars of fruit on the rough-hewn shelves, she hummed the song, remembering the words. You are not lost from His sight; Somebody waits for your coming, And He’ll drive the gloom from your night.

  Back in the kitchen, Hannah looked up from the coffee she was pouring. “You’re baking cinnamon bread! Are we celebrating my baptism?”

  “Why not? It’s a wonderful good thing.” Annie didn’t want to admit the real reason she had started baking this morning—her sleeplessness over a mountain of troubles. How she wished she didn’t have to be the bearer of such unfortunate tidings today. She hated to disappoint her sister, but she was not going to hide the truth. She had learned firsthand how that could sting.

  “Dear Hannah …” She placed the jars on the counter. “There’s some bad news that needs to be known. I was wrong to match you up with Jonah. It was … just a mistake—my mistake. But don’t you worry. I’m going to put my mind to finding someone else for you. A right good match.”

  Hannah sipped her coffee, eyeing Annie curiously. “Are you trying to spare my feelings? Because I know that Jonah doesn’t favor me. He told me, flat out.”

  “He did?” Annie blinked. “When was that?”

  “Just last night when we talked.” Hannah brought a stack of dishes to the table, as if this was any ordinary morning. She didn’t seem the least bit upset about Jonah King. On her way to the silverware drawer, she paused near Annie to add in a lowered voice: “It didn’t take long to figure out that Jonah favors you.”

  Annie was flabbergasted. Was she the last one to know about how Jonah King was holding a torch for her? And look at her little sister, not even caring! “He told you that? And you’re not disappointed? After everything we planned …”

  Hannah shrugged. “I don’t mind at all, but I hope you won’t break his heart. Jonah’s a nice fella, just not for me. Besides, I got to talking with Ben King last night, and it was wonderful good. He’s so easy to talk with, and I used your tips when things got quiet. Kept the conversation going by talking about the weather. I’m hoping he’ll be at the next singing. Or I was thinking, if Mamm gives me more hours at the tea shop, maybe I’ll see him in town.”

  It was not a bad plan, but Annie had trouble absorbing it with all the changes spinning around her. She broke the seal on a jar of peaches and poured them into a bowl, taking a moment to let her thoughts catch up.

  “What’s the matter, Annie?” Hannah was placing forks on the table. “You look a little shaken.”

  “Things are changing so fast. Here Jonah King is out and Ben King is in. You’ve learned your lessons well, and now you’re talking on your own. Everyone around me is moving ahead. Seems like I’m going to be left behind, stuck in the mud.”

  “My head is spinning, too,” Hannah admitted. “But I like the feeling. I miss Sarah and Mark and Perry, but the other changes are exciting. I’ve finally found a fella I like!”

  Annie nodded, though something kept her from feeling glad for her sister. “I just wish I could have helped more.”

  “Don’t be that way.” Hannah put her hands on her hips, looking authoritative. “You’ve never been good with change, but you need to pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and move on.”

  “I’ve handled a few setbacks in my life,” Annie said defensively. “I know how to move on.”

  Hannah shook her hea
d. “You cling to the old ways, the old customs. It’s your nature. You keep all the Christmas traditions. You make the same quilt pattern every time and you never change your recipes, even for a fruit in season. Some of the old ways are good, but you’ve got to learn to handle the things Gott sends your way. As Mamm says, bloom where you’re planted.”

  Was her younger sister giving her advice now? Annie was glad for the need to turn away and remove the nutty bread from the oven, as she didn’t want her sister to see the stubborn frown on her face.

  “That’s something I’m trying to learn,” Annie said, thinking of the letter she’d written last night after her mother went back to bed. Annie had taken writing papers and a pen from the drawer of the dresser and sat down on the bed. Dear Sarah, she had written.

  You may be surprised to hear this news from me so soon after you left. I know I told you that I would never leave Halfway, but I’ve had a change of heart.

  She had wanted to tell her sister about her longing to have a family and her lonesomeness without a beau and her embarrassing mistake with Jonah King. She had almost written about how her world had come crashing down all around her in the past few hours.

  Instead, she had kept the message simple: If you will still have me, I will come to New York.

  THIRTY-SEVEN

  Jonah was oiling the wheels of the hay cart when the lunch bell rang, the sweet clang floating over the hills. He straightened and cast a look toward the house. Would anyone notice if he hitched up his horse and headed home now? Not that he was chickenhearted about facing Annie, but he wanted to delay the final rejection. Besides, he hadn’t seen her all morning and he got the feeling she was avoiding him, too.

  Just then Aaron came out of the tack room. The older man looked him up and down as he passed by. “Didn’t you hear the lunch bell?” he asked. “Kumm.”

  And that was that. When it came to older men in the community, Jonah remained respectful.

  He washed up in the mud sink, then stepped over the threshold and hung his hat on the hook with the others. There she was in the center of the kitchen, bright as the morning sun. Annie was all business, serving soup to Aaron and Daniel, who were already seated at the table. Annie kept her eyes on the floor, and her voice seemed flat as she spoke to the men.

  “Where is Levi?” she asked, hands on her hips. “He was here five minutes ago.”

  “I’ll get him,” Jonah offered.

  “No. Sit.” Her eyes didn’t meet his as she spoke, and he felt the chill of her voice travel all the way down his spine.

  This was not the Annie he knew.

  In the wintry silence he took his place at the table and waited as Annie went to the stove to ladle soup into a bowl for him. Daniel caught his eye and cocked one brow, as if to say: I’m staying out of this.

  Annie turned away from the stove with a bowl of soup in hand. She was halfway across the kitchen when there was a commotion out back. Sunny barked and the porch door slammed and Levi shouted. “No, Fluffy! I told you not to go …”

  In a white flash the lamb bolted in the kitchen door and skittered across the floor.

  “… inside!” Levi called, appearing at the door with a stricken expression and a shirt streaked with mud. “Come back!”

  The lamb galloped to Annie, its spindly legs struggling to get a grip on the clean linoleum floor. As soon as it had surveyed the folks around the table, the playful lamb gallivanted around as if it were playtime.

  Annie paused as the creature circled her skirt. “Fluffy, no!” She held the bowl high, her cheeks rosy with excitement now. “What are you doing in here, little lamb?”

  “Get the animal out of here, boy,” Aaron ordered his grandson in a gentle tone that hinted at amusement.

  “I try and try, but she doesn’t listen.” Levi kept reaching for the lamb, even as it danced away in a game of chase. Fluffy meandered closer to the table and seemed about to leap onto Aaron’s lap when the older man waved it off.

  “This is why we should have gotten a dog instead,” Daniel muttered.

  Jonah grinned, enjoying the chaos. Fluffy had turned a strained lunch into an exciting calamity. He rose from the table and slipped toward the living room doorway, cutting off Fluffy’s only other route of escape.

  The lamb circled and headed toward Levi, who greeted it with open arms.

  “Kumm, now,” the boy said. He reached for the animal, but Fluffy wheeled and headed in the opposite direction.…

  Dashing right into Jonah’s arms.

  “Got you!” He pulled the lamb against him and cradled the squirming critter in his arms.

  “Good, Jonah! You saved the day,” Annie cried.

  With his back to her as he carried Fluffy to the porch, Jonah reckoned that she must have forgotten that she was angry with him. He smiled. Maybe he would have to send Fluffy into the house every day to cheer Annie up.

  Lunch was much more lively after Fluffy’s appearance.

  “Your lamb is very eager to get into my house,” Aaron told Levi. “If I don’t watch it, she’ll be sitting in a rocking chair, reading the paper.”

  Everyone chuckled, including Levi. “Doddy, she can’t read. She’s just a baby.”

  “But she’s a smart one,” Jonah teased. “She’ll learn fast.”

  “She is a happy little thing,” Annie said, pulling Levi’s chair closer to the table. “She reminds me of you when you were a toddler.”

  “Except that I’m not a sheep,” the boy said.

  “How could I forget?” Annie’s cheeks were pink with excitement now, her lips red as summer berries.

  Jonah admired her simple beauty, created by Gott like a flower or a spectacular sunset. But he knew her smile and pretty eyes were just a small glimpse of the beauty within, and that was the girl he had fallen for so many years ago.

  The girl inside.

  She glanced over and caught Jonah stealing a look at her. Quickly, he looked down at his soup, smiling over Daniel’s story of a dog he’d once had who always liked to ride on the seat of the buggy, like a big Amish man.

  “One day my brother put a hat on him, and half the people in town were fooled,” Daniel said. “Folks wanted to know if we had a relative visiting.”

  That brought another round of laughter to the table.

  Lighthearted talk like this reminded Jonah of his own family gathered round the table for a meal. How easily Annie would fit in there, with her sense of humor and her easy laugh. He set his jaw, wondering if his earnest prayers were meant to be. In some ways, they were closer than they had ever been … but still so far away.

  After lunch Annie followed Jonah out past the washroom.

  “Wait,” she called as he reached for the screen door. He turned to find her smoothing her apron down nervously. “Can we talk for a minute?”

  He nodded, looking around. Daniel had left for the harness shop, but Aaron was still in the kitchen, having coffee while Levi cleared the table. “Outside?” he suggested, wanting some privacy.

  She nodded, and he held the door open for her, noticing the slender curve of her neck as she passed close to him. Sunny stood up when he saw them, probably hoping for table scraps. Jonah scratched the dog’s head, then followed Annie around the side of the porch, out of sight of the kitchen.

  “I fled like a wild horse last night,” Annie said. “That was mean, and I’m sorry.”

  He nodded. “I’m sorry, too. Truth is, I took this job to be near you, but now, with everything that’s happened, I understand if you don’t want me around here. I’ll talk to your dat, and I can be gone from here soon as he finds someone else.”

  “No, please don’t do that. Dat needs your help, and he’s real picky about who he’ll hire. He’ll never find another man as good as you. He’s been slowing down lately, and it eases his mind having a man with your experience around.”

  He frowned. “I don’t want to be here if it makes you skittish.”

  “I’m not some jumpy colt.” She put her hand
s on her hips. “I can manage with you being here.”

  “You manage just fine, but I won’t stay around here if it’s going to make you grumpy as a bullfrog.”

  “I am not grumpy,” she said, scowling.

  He rubbed his chin, hesitating. There was no denying the edge in her voice.

  She looked down at the ground, then prodded a knot of grass with the toe of her shoe. “Okay, I’m grumpy, all right. But I’m not a bullfrog, and that’s not the best thing to say to a girl you want to court. Just so you know, in the future.”

  In the future … when I’m courting you? He wondered, his heart leaping in his chest at the notion. “I’ll remember that,” he said. “Bullfrogs are off the list. Skittish colts, too.”

  She heaved a wistful sigh and looked up at him. Was that pain or amusement sparkling in her eyes? He couldn’t be sure. “Oh, Jonah, you do have a sense of humor. I’ve enjoyed getting to know you these past weeks. It’s just that … you took me by surprise.”

  But you like surprises. You like practical jokes and birthday cakes and snowstorms that blow in unexpectedly and paint the world white. He knew all these things about her, but he didn’t want to gush and scare her.

  “I never thought of you as someone to court,” she said. “You were always just Mary’s brother.” Her blue eyes were a glimpse of summer sky and cornflowers in a meadow. “I didn’t notice you that way but … I wasn’t really looking at you.”

  “I’m invisible,” he said, trying to keep the misery from his voice. “It’s a problem. Folks can’t see me. They run right over me with their horse and buggy.”

  She chuckled. “See that? You are so much funnier than anyone knows.”

  “There’s humor in some very serious things.”

  “And you see it all. But that’s something your family is big on—finding the joy and humor in things. Every time I had dinner at your house when I was growing up, we were laughing over something. Once, I laughed so hard I almost choked on my beets. I was so worried about what Adam would think when he saw me spit out a mouthful of beets.”