Mom turned in her seat at the front of the buggy and looked sternly at both of them over the top of her glasses. “Your daed’s having a hard enough time trying to control the horse in this awful weather. He doesn’t need you two yelling.”
“Sorry,” Rachel and Jacob said at the same time.
Pap guided the horse off the main road and onto the graveled driveway leading to their farm, but suddenly, he pulled on the reins. “Whoa, there! Hold steady, boy!”
“What’s wrong?” Mom asked.
Pap pointed to the left. “Fire! Our barn is on fire!”
Rachel looked out the rain-streaked window. Sure enough, thick smoke bellowed from their barn, and angry red flames shot high into the sky.
“It must have been struck by the lightning!” Pap hollered. He smacked the reins hard, and for the first time in a long while, old Tom galloped up the driveway. When they reached the yard, Pap stopped the horse and said to Mom, “You’d better drive over to the Johnsons’ place, Miriam, and ask them to phone the fire department. Then head to the Millers’ and let them know that we could use their help.” Pap jumped down from the buggy. Henry, Jacob, and Esther did the same. Rachel just sat there, watching helplessly as her family raced for the buckets sitting near the outside pump.
Mom slid into the driver’s seat and reached for the reins. Then she turned to Rachel. “You can either get out and help fill buckets with water or ride with me.”
Rachel blinked several times, fighting back tears. “I’ll stay and help.” She climbed down from the buggy and watched Mom speed out of the yard.
Rachel’s legs felt heavy as she stumbled toward the water pump.
The fire burned fast, and Rachel’s heart nearly stopped beating when she saw Pap and Henry race into the barn. She breathed a sigh of relief when they returned, leading several animals safely out. Rain and ashes from the fire covered the men’s faces. Even Esther, who stood at the pump, filling buckets and handing them to Pap and her brothers, looked a mess.
Rachel noticed that the rain had tapered off. Why, when we need heavy rain to help stop the fire? she wondered.
“It’s not helping!” Henry gasped as he grabbed another bucket and threw it at the burning flames. “What are we going to do, Pap?”
“Rachel, don’t just stand there. Help fill some buckets, schnell!” Pap shouted.
Rachel forced herself to stop shaking and dashed to the pump. The buckets were heavy, and she struggled against the howling wind whipping the hem of her dress. The choking smoke burned Rachel’s eyes, and tears stung her hot cheeks. Pap’s barn was important. He kept all the animals there, as well as the alfalfa hay he raised to sell. He couldn’t lose it. He just couldn’t.
Soon the yard was full of neighbors, both Amish and English. Everyone worked hard, dumping buckets of cold water onto the angry, burning flames.
The wind grew stronger, and the fire spread quickly throughout the barn. The fire trucks still hadn’t arrived.
Rachel gasped when old Tom trotted into the yard with no buggy and no Mom. Should she tell Pap or let him keep working? She didn’t want to worry him, but if something had happened to Mom—Even though Rachel felt she caused a lot of trouble for her mother and that Mom often punished her, Rachel loved her mother very much.
Finally, Pap signaled the men to stop, and Rachel stood with the others and watched Pap’s barn burn to the ground. The fire trucks arrived at last, but it was too late.
Rachel stepped up to her father, ready to tell him that old Tom had returned without Mom, when another buggy pulled into the yard. Anna Miller got out, and so did Rachel’s mother.
“Mom! Where have you been?” Rachel shouted. “What happened to our buggy?”
“Old Tom broke away when we tried to put him in the Millers’ barn,” Mom explained. “He seemed so jittery on the drive over that I decided to leave him there and ride back in Anna’s buggy.”
“I’m glad you’re all right,” Rachel said, hugging her mother.
Mom nodded and patted Rachel’s head. “I’m fine, but I see our barn didn’t do so well.” She reached for Pap’s hand as he stepped beside her. “Did you get all the animals out, Levi?”
“Jah,” he mumbled. “I believe so.”
“It will be okay,” Mom whispered. “We’ll ask our friends and neighbors to help us rebuild.”
“I’ve helped others rebuild.” Pap slowly shook his head. “But in all the years we’ve been married, this is the first barn I have ever lost.”
“When trouble comes, we must not be too proud to ask for help,” Mom said with a catch in her voice.
Pap nodded. “You’re right, Miriam. I will ask.”
Rachel wished she could do or say something to make Pap feel better. At least he’d been able to get the animals out. That was a good thing.
Then sudden panic struck Rachel. Cuddles! Where is Cuddles? Had her sweet little bussli been in the barn when it caught fire?
Rachel cupped her hands around her mouth and hollered, “Has anyone seen my kitten?”
Chapter 10
Barn Raising
Pap, Henry, Jacob, and several Amish men who lived nearby spent the next few days cleaning up the mess from the burned-out barn.
On Friday, when Rachel came downstairs to help with breakfast, first she opened the back door and called for Cuddles. Rachel called for Cuddles many times every day, but the kitten was still missing. Rachel only saw a yard full of Amish men and boys who’d come to help raise the new barn. Mom had said probably a hundred or more would help, and Rachel was sure at least that many had arrived already.
“I guess Pap will have plenty of help today,” she said to Esther, who had just finished setting the table.
Her sister nodded. “Even many of our English neighbors have come to help. All the men will be busy today preparing the planks, panels, rafters, and beams that will make up Pap’s new barn.”
“Since the table’s already set, what would you like me to do?” Rachel asked, stepping to the counter where her mother stood cracking eggs into a bowl.
“I could use a few more eggs, so why don’t you run out to the chicken coop and see how many you can find?”
Rachel frowned. “Oh, Mom, do I have to? You know the trouble I have when I try to gather eggs.”
“Just watch what you’re doing, and I’m sure you’ll be fine.” Mom nudged Rachel toward the door.
With a weary sigh, Rachel trudged across the yard toward the chicken coop. She was relieved when everything went okay and she found six plump eggs. None of the hens gave her a bit of trouble, either.
She headed back across the lawn but almost tripped on some boards that were to be used on the barn. She grunted and moved on until Frank Johnson, one of their English neighbors, asked if she would bring him a drink of water.
Rachel set the basket of eggs on one of the wooden tables and hurried to the pump. She grabbed a paper cup from the stack sitting there, filled it with water, and took it to Mr. Johnson.
He smiled and took a drink. “That hit the spot. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” Rachel rushed back to the table where she had left the basket, only to discover that it was gone. “Have you seen my basket of eggs?” she asked Jacob when he walked by carrying a hammer and a can of nails.
He shook his head and kept walking.
Rachel questioned several other people, but no one had seen the eggs.
“Always trouble somewhere,” she muttered as she headed to the house.
“How’d it go in the chicken coop?” Mom asked when Rachel entered the kitchen empty-handed. “Didn’t you get any eggs?”
“I collected six.” Rachel grunted. “But I set the basket on one of the tables so I could get Frank Johnson a cup of water, and when I got back, the basket was gone.”
Mom’s pale eyebrows lifted, and she peered at Rachel over the top of her glasses. “Where did it go?”
“I have no idea.” Rachel moved toward her mother. “I told you I didn’t
want to collect the eggs.”
“There has to be some explanation. Did you ask the men if they had seen the basket?”
Rachel nodded. “Nobody knew anything about it. Now the eggs are missing, and so is my cat.”
“I’m sure Cuddles is just hiding someplace,” Mom said with a shake of her head. “But someone must know what happened to the basket of eggs. Baskets don’t jump off the table and walk away by themselves.”
“I–I’ll go back outside and look again.” Rachel was beginning to believe that she was the trouble. Maybe she had set the basket somewhere else and didn’t remember doing it. She had been kind of forgetful this summer.
“That’s okay. I’ll make do with the eggs I already have,” her mother said. “Our menfolk ate earlier, so everyone’s had breakfast except you, me, and Esther.”
Rachel glanced around the kitchen. “Where is Esther? She was here when I went to the chicken coop. I hope my schweschder [sister] isn’t missing now, too.”
“Your sister isn’t missing. She just went outside to say hello to Rudy.”
“That’s good.” Rachel moved to the sink to wash her hands. “At least I know I’m not to blame for Cuddles being missing.”
Mom made no comment. She just placed a frying pan on the stove and started cooking the eggs she already had.
A few minutes later, the back door opened, and Esther stepped into the kitchen, carrying a wicker basket.
“Where’d you find that?” Rachel asked.
“Outside on one of the tables.”
“Which one?”
“The table closest to where the new barn’s going to be.” Esther set the basket near Mom.
“I didn’t put it on that table. I’m sure I set the basket on the table nearest the pump. Someone must have moved it.” Rachel squinted. “I wonder if Jacob—”
“It’s not important,” Mom said, waving her hand. “We have our eggs now, and that’s all that matters.”
Rachel grunted. If Jacob had taken the eggs, he should be punished. But Mom probably didn’t even care. Rachel felt that she always got scolded for the things she did, and Jacob got away with everything.
By noon, the skeleton of the barn had begun to take shape, rising high above the ground. The Pennsylvania Dutch language drifted up from the work site as men and boys pounded nails, cut boards, and fit them securely in place.
Rachel joined Mom, Esther, and several other women in the kitchen while they prepared lunch for the workers. The tables were filled with meatloaf sandwiches, several kinds of salad, pickles, olives, potato chips, and plenty of iced tea, water, and lemonade. For dessert, they could enjoy gingerbread and a variety of cookies. Since the weather was still warm, everyone ate outside at the tables. During the meal, the men even took time to visit and tell jokes. Even when disaster struck, whether it was big or little, Rachel was learning, you kept going and made the best of things.
“Say, where’s your straw hat?” Jacob asked Pap as he selected another slice of gingerbread.
Pap grabbed a couple of peanut butter cookies and said, “I took it off when I washed up at the pump. It must be over there still.”
“Not anymore.” Jacob pointed to one of the beams overhead. “Look there, Pap. Someone nailed your hat to the new barn!”
Pap tipped his head and squinted against the glare of the sun. A huge smile crept across his bearded face. “All right now—who’s the galgedieb [scoundrel]?”
A few Amish boys sitting nearby snickered, but nobody said who the scoundrel was. For once Rachel was glad she hadn’t done anything wrong.
“That’s all right. My head was getting too warm anyway.” Pap glanced at Rachel and winked. Then he chuckled.
Rachel gritted her teeth as she helped clear away the dishes. Maybe Jacob hadn’t moved her basket of eggs. It was probably those same teasing boys who had nailed Pap’s hat to the barn. She was tempted to scold them, but Mom called her to join the women and girls at the picnic tables.
When the meal was over, Rachel and Mary hurried to the creek. They sat under a willow tree, and Rachel leaned against the tree trunk.
“Sure is nice to see how many folks have come to help build your daed’s new barn,” Mary said.
Rachel nodded. “I know Pap appreciates it, but it doesn’t seem fair that we lost the barn.”
“I heard my daed say the other day that trouble can make us stronger and teaches us to call on God.”
Rachel groaned. “I’ve been calling on Him ever since the fire, but I don’t think He’s listening.”
“What’s wrong?” Mary asked.
“I’m worried about my kitten.”
Mary frowned. “Where is Cuddles? I haven’t seen her today.”
“The last time I saw her was the morning before the barn burned down.” Rachel bit her bottom lip to keep it from trembling. Thinking about her kitten made her feel so sad. “What if Cuddles was trapped inside the barn when it caught fire?”
Mary gasped. “That would be baremlich [terrible].”
Rachel nodded. “It would be worse than terrible.”
“Should we go look for her?”
“I’ve looked and called for her every day, but there’s no sign of Cuddles anywhere.” Rachel’s eyes burned with tears, and she blinked to keep them from spilling over. “I don’t believe she’s ever coming back. I think I’ve lost her for good.”
Mary held Rachel’s hand and gently squeezed it. “Don’t say that. I’ll help you search for the bussli. Maybe she’s someplace you haven’t already looked.”
“Jah, maybe so.”
Rachel and Mary spent the rest of the afternoon looking for Cuddles, but they couldn’t find her. They finally decided to give up and go to the house for cookies and milk.
Shortly before suppertime, the workers went home. Many promised to return the next day to help Pap put the final touches on his new barn.
Rachel asked her mother if Mary could spend the night.
Mom looked over at her sister-in-law. “What do you think about that idea?”
Aunt Irma nodded. “Jah, sure. It’s fine with me.”
Rachel hugged her cousin, and the two of them jumped up and down. Rachel thought having her cousin spend the night might help her forget about her missing kitten. At least it would keep her too busy to think about it so much.
“Calm down, Mary,” Aunt Irma said with a click of her tongue. “You be sure and help Rachel with her chores.”
Mary nodded. “I will, Mama.”
The girls stood on the porch, watching as the last buggy pulled out of the Yoders’ yard. Then they ran into the house, giggling.
That evening after they’d eaten supper and all the dishes had been washed, dried, and put away, Mom turned to the girls and said, “You’d best take a bath before you head upstairs to bed.”
“Oh, Mom,” Rachel groaned. “We’re not that dirty.”
“I just washed your bedsheets, and I don’t want any filthy little bodies soiling them tonight.”
Rachel knew she wouldn’t win this argument, so she trudged down the hallway toward the bathroom, with Mary right behind her.
When the girls awoke the following morning, the men were already hard at work. The piercing sound of hammers and saws echoed through Rachel’s open window.
Mary yawned and pulled the sheet over her head. “It can’t be time to get up already.”
Rachel opened one eye and squinted at the sun streaming in through the crack of the dark window shade. “I’m afraid the sun is almost over the barn already. I guess we should have gone to bed a little earlier last night.”
“We’d better hurry and get dressed,” Mary said as she swung her legs over the side of the bed. “Your mamm and Esther will need our help.”
The girls entered the kitchen just as a knock sounded on the back door. Mom opened it, and Jake Miller entered, carrying Rachel’s kitten in his arms.
“Cuddles!” Rachel cried. She raced to Jake, and he handed her the squirming animal. “Whe
re have you been, you silly bussli?”
“I found her over at our place this morning, playing in the flower beds with Missy and her other busslin,” Jake said.
“Do you think she got scared when the storm blew in and headed back to the place where she was born?” Rachel’s mother asked.
Jake nodded. “That’s what my daed believes happened. The cat’s probably been there the whole time, and we didn’t see her until today.”
Tears welled in Rachel’s eyes as relief washed over her like a spring rain. “Danki for bringing Cuddles back to me, Jake.”
“You’re welcome.”
She kissed the tip of the kitten’s nose. “At least you knew what to do when trouble came. Welcome home, my furry little friend.”
Chapter 11
Out to Pasture
Rachel’s eyes felt heavy, and she leaned her head against the seat in the back of their buggy. They had been to the public auction so Pap could buy some things he needed for the new barn. Now it seemed to be taking them forever to get home.
“Why are we stopping again?” Jacob complained.
Rachel opened one eye and looked at him. “Ask Pap. He’s the driver.”
“It must be our stupid horse,” her brother said, wrinkling his nose. “Every couple of miles old Tom stops in the road. When he does decide to go, he plods along like a turtle. That horse isn’t worth much anymore. I think we should get rid of him.”
Rachel sat up straight. “No way! Tom may be a little slow, but he’s a good horse. It wouldn’t be right for Pap to sell him.”
Jacob nudged her arm. “The old horse will probably end up at the glue factory. Jah, that’s where Pap should take him, all right.”
Rachel’s mouth dropped open. “How can you say that? Turning our trusty horse into a pile of glue would be terrible!”
“Oh, don’t let Jacob rile you,” said Henry, who sat in the seat ahead of them reading a book. “More than likely Pap will just put old Tom out to pasture.”
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