Planted with Hope

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Planted with Hope Page 5

by Tricia Goyer


  Clyde pulled up a chair in the back of the classroom, and Jonas forced a smile. Clyde was a woodworker. He always had a project or two in his shop, but his greatest talent was his ability to strike up a conversation with anyone. Jonas just hoped that whatever Clyde had on his mind wouldn’t take long. He had a classroom to ready for the next day and lessons to prepare, and he wanted time this afternoon with Emma.

  “Ruth Ann came home a bit ago with a piece of pie from that pie shop. Orange pie. I never had that before, but it was good.”

  “Really? Orange Pie, you don’t say.” Jonas put down his eraser and then flipped through pages in the math book. “I might have to try it next time I go by.”

  “You’ll have to do that. I like that place. It’s really brought some fun to our village. I wouldn’t want to guess how many pies they go through a day with all the customers—the Amish here, and all those Englischers who’ve been showing up in their fancy cars.”

  Jonas crossed his arms over his chest, knowing he’d never be able to write up math equations on the board and chat at the same time. He leaned against the wall. He eyed the winter mural on the wall behind Clyde’s head, realizing he should have taken that down after the New Year. Then he smiled, deciding to leave it up. After all, that was the only “winter” these kids would experience.

  “You know, they did a nice job with that pie shop, but it’s just a shame that they haven’t done much with the lot,” Clyde continued. “Ruth Ann mentioned it to me the other day. There’s a half acre in the back of the building, you know. Seems to be a shame that it’s not being used. All that space is valuable. Especially since most folks around here have tiny yards. And that’s another thing that’s bothering Ruth Ann. These kids growing up in this area don’t know what it’s like to live on a farm or grow a garden. What if one of these young girls in our school grows up to marry an Amishman from up north? What will happen when she moves up there and doesn’t know how to garden and such?”

  Jonas nodded and rubbed his head, wondering if this was Clyde—or rather Ruth Ann’s—way of hinting about Emma needing a good role model in her life. At least three times since they’d moved her here Ruth Ann had talked to him about opening his heart up to love again, about finding a wife. About finding a woman who could guide Emma into adulthood. Their conversation had been as recent as last night.

  “A young girl needs a mother to teach her how to care for a garden, a family, a home,” Ruth Ann had said.

  Jonas had teased her. “That’s what I have you for, Ruthie. And I believe you should start tonight. How about Emma begins by learning how to make peanut butter pie?”

  Ruth Ann whopped him with her dishtowel, but she had the same determined look in her gaze as Clyde did now.

  “Ja, I suppose you’re right,” Jonas said, taking the bait and wondering what Clyde was leading to.

  “That’s why I think you should talk to Lovina Miller who owns the pie shop. Maybe see if you can make a garden plot out back. Emma can’t stop talking about starting a garden in May back home, but why wait? I bet you could help get one up and running. You always did a gut job with your garden back home after… ” Clyde’s voice trailed off, but Jonas knew what Clyde had been about to say: after Sarah died.

  In Amish communities the garden was a woman’s place, but after Sarah’s stroke Jonas had stepped in. He had to. The food raised in a garden was necessary to make it through the long winters, but did he really need another job beyond teaching school and being the sole parent of a mischievous young girl?

  Curiosity turned to frustration, and frustration tightened Jonas’s throat. He balled his fists at his side and felt his shoulders tense. Wasn’t he doing enough to help his sister by just being here? And now this? They wanted him to take on more?

  “A garden plot? And when would I have time to tend to that? Did my sister forget that I’m teaching school full time? And that I have Emma.” The words came out sharper than Jonas intended, and he pressed his lips together.

  Clyde stroked his long beard that fell to his second button and chuckled. There were few things that fazed Clyde, and obviously Jonas’s crisp tone wasn’t one of them.

  “That’s the point. You make it part of school. Kids don’t need to sit in a stuffy room all day. They can get out and get some fresh air and learn about gardening.” Clyde pointed to the books in the bookcase closest to him. “I’d guess there’re some good biology texts that you could tie in.”

  Seeing Clyde’s smile, Jonas’s shoulders relaxed. The idea did sound appealing, taking his students out into nature instead of sitting inside a stuffy classroom all day. Even though they had two electric fans to move the air he missed Kentucky’s cool breezes. But would that just add to his work? He guessed it would. It’d take work, take planning.

  “I’m sure there are some good lessons I could incorporate. It’s something to think about. Nothing that needs to be decided today.”

  Clyde lifted one eyebrow that told Jonas he didn’t agree. “Or if you’d like I can head over and talk to Lovina Miller. Or actually, Ruth Ann said she’d be happy to mention something—”

  “No!” The word escaped Jonas’s lips. “Just give me time to think about it.”

  “Ja, well, of course.” But even as Clyde rose from his chair Jonas had no doubt that he wasn’t going to let things lie. Word would get to Lovina somehow. And then he’d really be stuck having to do what Clyde planned. He had to act first, or Clyde and Ruth Ann would take over and volunteer him for who knows what.

  “Listen… ” Jonas followed Clyde to the door. “I was thinking about taking Emma by the shop for a piece of pie this afternoon. So why don’t I just bring it up to Lovina?”

  Clyde’s eyebrows lifted. “Today?”

  Jonas ushered Clyde out of the door. “Today, I promise.” He then smiled, guessing Lovina’s response. He would mention it, and then he could promptly forget it. With the pie shop barely getting on its feet, the owner of Me, Myself, and Pie would not be interested in her nice grass being dug up for a school project, especially by a schoolteacher who had no intention of staying beyond the school year. Yes, he’d mention it, point out all the reasons it wouldn’t work, and then let Lovina decide. Then—with a clear conscience—he could let Clyde and Ruth Ann know that Emma would have to wait until May to garden. Somehow his daughter would survive.

  Besides, when he got back to Kentucky he’d have plenty of time to ask one of his other sisters or older nieces to take Emma under their wing. It wasn’t like she’d be grown overnight.

  But would that be enough? A mentor for Emma?

  Ruth Ann wanted more for him than that. She wanted Jonas to find love again, but was that possible?

  Hope Miller’s sweet face popped in his mind again, but he pushed it away. She was too young, too beautiful. She’d never want to be with someone like him, who came with so much baggage—a daughter, a sad history, a broken heart.

  Besides, he’d never find a woman as sweet, loving, and gentle as Sarah. Yes, Emma needed someone to teach her what being an Amish woman was all about, but that didn’t mean he needed to fall in love again. After losing Sarah, Jonas wasn’t even sure that was even possible.

  Peanut Butter Pie

  One 9-inch baked pastry pie crust

  2½ cups milk, divided

  1 cup sugar

  ¼ cup cornstarch

  dash of salt

  3 large egg yolks

  1½ cups powdered sugar

  ½ cup peanut butter

  whipped topping

  Bring two cups of milk to a boil in a saucepan over medium-high heat. In a bowl, mix sugar, cornstarch, and salt together. Stir in ½ cup milk, add egg yolks, and mix well. Stir cornstarch mixture into the boiling milk. Bring back to a boil, stirring constantly. Remove from heat and cool.

  To make crumbs, mix together powdered sugar and peanut butter until crumbly. Reserve ⅓ of the crumbs for the top of the pie. Put remaining crumbs in the bottom of the baked pie crust. Pour the cooled f
illing on top of the crumbs. Cover with whipped topping. Sprinkle the remaining crumbs on top.

  Chapter Five

  Too many of us don’t know what’s cooking until it boils over.

  AMISH PROVERB

  Jonas’s hand tightened around Emma’s as they neared the pie shop. She glanced up at him and her brow furrowed. He noticed a spattering of freckles across her nose that he was sure he hadn’t seen before. She was changing so quickly. Growing up.

  “We’re eating pie? Before dinner?”

  “Ja, we’ll get pie. We’ll share a piece, so as not to spoil our appetite, but I need to talk to someone while we’re here too.”

  They paused before the front door next to a large pot filled with flowers. Emma reached out her free hand and brushed it over the top of a cluster of violets. Violets had been Sarah’s favorite.

  “About what?” She bent down and sniffed a pink blossom that Jonas didn’t know the name of. Then her eyes rolled back as if enamored with the aroma. Sarah had done that too. She’d walked through her flower beds, bending down to enjoy the aroma of each one.

  “Talking about a garden here… well, not really.” He shook his head, hoping not to get his daughter’s hopes up. “I mean, I just need to talk to someone that Aenti Ruth Ann wants me to talk to.” How could he explain to an eight-year-old that he needed to have the conversation to put a halt to Ruth Ann’s idea before she talked to anyone about it? If Ruth Ann was anything, she was persuasive. And if she wanted something it usually happened.

  “Do you want to have a garden here at the pie shop?” Emma eyed him curiously. Then she scratched her head, looking through the window at the display case. “Vegetable pie doesn’t sound good.”

  “It was just an idea—that your aunt had. There’s a nice piece of land in the back, but I’m sure that it’ll be too much work to follow through with. Especially with us leaving.”

  “Hope is a gardener.” Emma pointed to the flowers that filled the planter and spilled over. “She planted these.”

  “She did?” Jonas looked at the pot closer. It was a perfect mix of color and fragrance. There were no shriveled flowers or dry leaves. If Hope tended these flowers she clearly took pride in her work.

  “Ja. Hope said she’d liked vegetables more than flowers, and she’d like to be a gardener again.” Emma shrugged. “I think it’s sad that she can’t be.”

  “How do you know this? When did you talk to her?”

  “Last week—the day we got to town.” Emma swung against his arm, pulling gently from side to side as she talked. “Aenti Ruth Ann took me for pie, but I wanted ice cream. It was melted all over my hands, and Hope cleaned it off. She was taking care of her flowers.”

  “So when you were at the creek, that was the second time you saw Hope?”

  Emma nodded. “Ja.”

  “And Hope told you the first time that she wished she had a garden?” Jonas pushed back his hat and rubbed his brow where the brim had rested. “Do you know if Aenti Ruth Ann heard her say that?”

  Emma shrugged. “I don’t know. I had two scoops and it was too big. And too sticky.”

  Jonas nodded, pretending to be interested in Emma’s ice cream but mostly wondering if his sister had something up her sleeve with this garden idea. Was Ruth Ann trying to play matchmaker? He wouldn’t put it past her. But the truth was, hearing that Hope wished for a garden made him reconsider his conversation with Lovina.

  He’d planned on presenting the idea of a garden to Lovina, and then he’d back himself out of the commitment. After all, he was a busy man. But Emma’s words made him wonder. If he did help start a garden, would Hope Miller want to get involved?

  A garden was a lot of work, but it wouldn’t be without benefits. He could use it for his classes, and if it helped him to get to know Hope Miller better, why, that would be a bonus. And there’d be produce for the community.

  Something inside Jonas told him he had to try. It would be a good project for Emma to be involved in while she was in Pinecraft. And if nothing else came of it, he’d have some time with his daughter—time he never seemed to get while tending the farm back home.

  Jonas walked into the pie shop and found a booth. When the waitress came by he ordered a slice of old-fashioned cream pie to split with Emma, and then he asked if it would be possible to talk to Lovina Miller.

  The waitress smiled. “Lovina’s busy but I’ll see what I can do. Can I tell her what it’s about?”

  “It’s about a garden!” Emma blurted out. “Dat wants to grow one here in the back.”

  The young waitress lifted an eyebrow. “A garden?”

  She looks familiar, Jonas thought. In fact, she looks a little like Hope.

  He squirmed in his seat, wondering if she was one of Hope’s sisters. Worried that she was. Word spread quickly in Amish communities. Many times an idea became a solid plan when passed along by excited lips.

  Just as they finished their last bite, the owner of the pie shop, Lovina Miller, walked over and scooted into the booth next to Emma. Jonas had seen her nearly every time he’d come into the pie shop. She was dark-haired and petite with a warm smile. From what he’d heard she was going to be a married woman in a few months, although she and Noah Yoder had yet to publish their wedding.

  “My sister said you wanted to talk to me? She said something about a garden?”

  Jonas opened his mouth, but Emma cut in. “Dat wants to have a garden out back. A real garden just like our one in Kentucky.”

  “A real garden? Is that right?” Lovina’s inquisitive gaze looked first to Emma and then turned to him.

  Emma leaned forward, resting her arms on the table. “Right, Dat? A big garden, right?”

  Jonas reached across the table and ruffled her hair. “I don’t know how big. It was just an idea. My sister Ruth Ann thought of it first—maybe something for the children? She seems to think that the Amish children here in Pinecraft are losing out on so much by not learning to care for a farm or garden.”

  Lovina looked at Emma thoughtfully, then back to him. “You know, I’ve never really considered that before. I love the idea of a garden. And it would be so good for the schoolchildren. I do have a large area in the back. It gets plenty of sun and there is a water source.”

  Jonas raised his eyebrows, surprised she jumped on the idea so quickly.

  “I know that a few gardeners around here have already started planting. Do you know when you’d like to start?” Lovina asked.

  “Start?” He shrugged. “I was just sharing the idea. I can’t commit to overseeing a project like that. I wish I could, but with this being my first time teaching I don’t think that I should take on too much. I couldn’t take on all of it for certain… but if you knew a gardener, and he or she didn’t mind the children getting involved… ”

  Lovina drew a breath. “Oh, I see. I thought you’d wanted to oversee it.”

  “I would if I could, but I’m leaving in May. I have a farm to return home to. And—”

  Lovina raised a hand, cutting him off. “Ja, I understand. Do you think… ” A smile filled her face. “Do you think if I found someone to organize the garden and plant it that the children would like to help?” Her eyes sparkled. They were so dark he was certain he’d never seen any darker, but he saw something else too—excitement. It was as if an idea was forming in her mind. Was Lovina thinking what he hoped she was? Was she considering roping in her sister Hope?

  Jonas cleared his throat. “If it’s not too much trouble. If you can find someone interested, then I thought it would be a good idea. There is so much I could teach.” Then he released a big breath. “I’ll leave it up to you.”

  A weight lifted from his shoulders and an unexpected lightness filled his chest. The idea was no longer in his hands. He’d offered the idea and would leave the rest to Lovina. Ruth Ann should be happy with that.

  Lovina smiled, and she drummed her fingers on the table top, as if eager to get back to work. “Gut. I’ll let you know. But
even if we can make it happen it’ll be a few weeks before we can get everything ready and… ” She stopped her words and pressed her lips together. “Can you just keep this idea between you and me until I figure out if it will work?”

  “Ja, of course.” He picked up the fork and took another bite of pie.

  “Lovina!” The front clerk called to her. A phone was pressed to her shoulder. “We have someone from Sarasota on the telephone. They want to place a big order. A big order… I told them they should talk to you.”

  “Ja, coming,” Lovina called over her shoulder, and then she turned back to Jonas. “When I find someone I’ll let you know. I have an idea, but… well, just know that it’ll be worth the wait.”

  “I can be found at the school.”

  “At the school then. Ja, danke, Brother Sutter.”

  He cringed at the name. The students called him Brother Sutter, but he was happy to be called Jonas around town.

  “Just call me Jonas,” he called out to Lovina, but she had already hurried away.

  Jonas looked back across the table. Emma was sitting there, perfectly still, and as quiet as a church mouse. It was a skill she’d developed over the last few years. With visiting doctors and nurses, Jonas often asked them to speak to him in private, as to not upset Emma. Yet the young girl figured out that if she sat perfectly quiet, perfectly still, her father often forgot she was there and continued with his adult conversations.

  Emma removed her hands from her lap and placed them over her mouth. Her eyes widened, and then the smallest giggle released from behind her fingers.

  Jonas steepled his fingers and leaned forward. He attempted a serious look, pretending to be stern. “Emma, what do you think is so funny?”

  Emma giggled again, and Jonas had a hard time not smiling. His lip twitched, and Emma giggled more.

  She lowered her hands. “Lovina said we have to keep a secret.”

  Jonas nodded and released a sigh. The bigger a secret Emma felt it was, the harder time she would have keeping it.

 

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