“Well, it was for a goot cause,” Cousin Herman protested. “We live sheltered lives. We—”
“Yah, we’ve been over that,” Uncle Homer interrupted. “You’ve never married, and you gallop all over the country at your leisure, so why speak to you of danger?”
Herman glanced at Phoebe. “Do you think she can handle it any better than Grandma Lapp? Or is Phoebe simply a way for you to ease your conscience?”
“It always was a harebrained idea,” Uncle Homer muttered, obviously avoiding the question.
Phoebe’s head spun, and no words came. She had no idea what the men were talking about.
“So why don’t you make up your mind?” Cousin Herman stared out the back barn door. “Am I taking the ponies or not?”
“I have to think about this,” Uncle Homer finally decided. “I’ll drive you back, and we’ll return this evening with the others to speak with Phoebe.”
“I’m not coming. You’re on your own with this,” Cousin Herman declared. Both men said goodbye to Phoebe, and then Herman followed Uncle Homer out of the barn. Moments later, Phoebe listened to the buggy wheels rattling out of the driveway.
She stood without moving for a long time. Grandma thought she—timid Phoebe Lapp—could do something wunderbah, something worthy. There was no other way to look at this.
But what did Grandma want her to do?
TWO
Several hours later, Phoebe sat at the kitchen table in Grandma Lapp’s empty house, a lunchtime bologna sandwich in hand and her eyes fixed on the kitchen wall. She wanted to force the hands on the clock to make the evening arrive, but there was nothing she could do but wait. She should have run after Uncle Homer this morning and demanded he tell her at once what Grandma’s plan had been. There was a time when she would have dared, but that was…well, a long time ago. Even after her bold words to Uncle Homer about wanting to keep the ponies, she had reverted to her cautious self.
There was nothing she could do as the minutes ticked past in the silent house. She should be used to silence after her care of Grandma this past year, but this was the total absence of sound. What a relief it would be to hear Grandma’s shallow breathing in the bedroom again. Or the sound of her faint cry for a glass of water, or the occasional request for food she struggled to consume.
Phoebe pulled her gaze from the wall and finished the sandwich. The evening would come in its own goot time, and the Lapp families would gather. Three of Daett’s siblings lived in the valley: Uncle Homer, Uncle Noah, and Aunt Millie, who had married Reuben Yoder. Between the three families, their children would fill the house, but that was the least of Phoebe’s worries. She thought only of Grandma’s dream, a dream that had stirred opposition in all of her relatives. So what was Phoebe Lapp’s part in that plan? Apparently she had been summoned from Lancaster for reasons other than Grandma’s care. Grandma’s plan must have demanded a lot of courage. Had Grandma remembered how Phoebe once had been? Surely Grandma could not have known what happened in the schoolyard, or about the harsh words that had been spoken years ago.
Phoebe groaned and cleared the sandwich crumbs from the table. She knew she had to speak up this evening—to say to Uncle Homer and her family, “I am not up to this—whatever this is.” She was a different girl now. She would say her piece, and they need not say anything else of the past or the present. The family could enjoy the evening together, and their time would not be wasted.
Phoebe squared her shoulders and dumped the crumbs into the wastebasket. She paused when she heard a knock on the front door. She hadn’t heard the sound of a buggy pulling into the driveway, but she had been wrapped up in her own thoughts. Phoebe shook her apron clean and headed out of the kitchen. The door opened before she arrived, and David’s face appeared.
He managed a smile. “Can I come in?”
“Sure.” She waited. Maybe he had come back to pick up something he had left in the house.
David stood by the front door with his head down. “Your grandma was very dear to me, Phoebe,” he finally said.
“I know. We all loved her.”
“Ruth wanted to send her regrets, but she had to work at her job this morning cleaning homes.” David gave Phoebe a quick glance.
She smiled gently. “Thank you both for your concern.”
He hurried on. “I will certainly miss coming up here and seeing Grandma Lapp. I know that Ruth feels the same. Your grandma was kind to us.” He paused, apparently caught up in his memories. “She could look past our family’s strange ways when few could. I’m sorry for the way Daett is sometimes.”
“That is not your fault, David.”
“Thanks,” he replied. He hesitated again. “But that is not what I came to talk about.”
Phoebe motioned toward the couch. “Do you want to sit?”
He shook his head. “Your grandma told me something I was supposed to tell you after she passed. I tried to speak about it this morning in the barn, but I lost my courage. I hope what I have to say isn’t too shocking or too sudden.” He looked at her, doubt in his eyes. “If you would rather, I can come back in a few days, and we can talk then.”
Phoebe stared at him. “Grandma gave you a message for me? Why wouldn’t she tell me herself? I took care of her every day.”
David glanced at floor. “I don’t think she meant to offend you. Maybe…I don’t know. One could often ask why your grandma did the things she did. For example, why did she befriend Ruth and me? She’s the reason I joined the community when I did, and why Ruth hasn’t jumped the fence yet with Ethan, that Englisha boyfriend of hers. But I suppose you know all that.”
Phoebe nodded. David had never been this open before.
He continued. “Grandma told me my part of the plan, and I am supposed to see if you want to move any further with it. She gave me a year’s wages in case you accept and everything else falls into place. But if it doesn’t, Grandma told me to keep the money with the Lord’s blessings.”
Phoebe sat down on the couch and steadied herself. “So you know what Grandma’s dream was?”
“I suppose so. She never called it her dream to me.”
Phoebe motioned impatiently with her hand. “So tell me!”
David waited for a second. “This was all Grandma Lapp’s idea, let me assure you—although Ruth mentioned something first after she became acquainted with Ethan’s work at Child Protective Services.”
“Just tell me, David,” Phoebe whispered. “Please!”
“The ponies out there.” David motioned toward the barn with his chin. “Grandma Lapp wanted to bring troubled children to the farm for a week at a time. She hoped to give them a taste of country life, and perhaps a touch of the Lord too.” His face clouded. “But that’s not something you can tell Child Protective Services. Ethan explained to Ruth the difficulties of obtaining secular support if the Amish were running the farm. There would be training for the person in charge. Things are touchy when the state pays for things. Even so, Grandma Lapp liked the idea of the Assateague ponies because they would entertain the children. It wasn’t all settled yet, but the ponies were the start of her plan.” David gestured toward the barn. “So now you know, and I’m just the messenger—although I do think it is a great idea.”
Phoebe tried to breathe. “So Grandma wanted a working farm for troubled Englisha children?”
“Something like that.”
“And you would help me run the place?”
“That is what Grandma Lapp wanted.” He grimaced. “I hope you don’t object. I would pull more than my share of the work if you gave me a chance.”
“I’m sure you would,” Phoebe assured him. “But it’s not all my decision. The family’s gathering tonight, and things will be decided then.”
“That’s fair,” he agreed. “I hope they make the right choice.”
She gave him a quick smile. “You can pray, I suppose. That wouldn’t hurt. If the project does go through, this would be no small undertaking.”
; He nodded, his face sober. “So you knew nothing about this?”
She shook her head.
“I wonder why.”
“It is confusing. Uncle Homer spoke with me this morning about some dream of Grandma’s, but he wouldn’t give me details. How did she keep so many secrets, David?”
He grinned. “Grandma Lapp was a wunderbah woman, Phoebe, but you already know that. I hope the Lord gives her a great reward for all the kindness she showed my sister and me. But she must have proceeded with caution on this farm idea, for which I don’t blame her. Obviously your relatives have their doubts about it.”
“Yes, they do. And I’m still dizzy with information, but I will let you know what the family decides.”
“I’ll see you later, then.” David turned and slipped out as quietly as he had come.
Looking out the living room window, Phoebe watched him leave. So this was Grandma’s secret. Grandma wanted her to work with David Fisher? Perhaps for David’s sake as much as for her own? Grandma was into such things—horses and hurting souls. Did Phoebe have the courage? Even if Uncle Homer and the others gave their permission, such a project would disturb the community.
She was a faithful member of the church, and so was David. That should help. Unlike Ruth, David had ended his rumspringa long before Phoebe had arrived in the valley. Uncle Homer would know this, and he also knew about Grandma’s wish. Likely Uncle Homer considered the idea this morning largely because of his high regard for his mamm.
Phoebe would have to wait for the evening to see how things would turn out. In the meantime, there were the cobwebs in the barn. It was a wonder Cousin Herman hadn’t teased her this morning about its condition.
Phoebe left the house and pushed open the barn door to find a broom in the back storage room. She returned to the front of the barn, and with an old bandana wrapped across her face, she began to attack the cobwebs with vicious strokes of the broom.
THREE
Dusk had fallen outside the old farmhouse by the time Phoebe finished the last of her soup in the silent kitchen. She should have made enough for everyone, but that hadn’t been part of Uncle Homer’s instructions. The family would gather after supper to discuss Grandma’s dream. They would decide then, Uncle Homer had said, but he intended to proceed with the plan. Why else would Uncle Homer gather the whole family? This was only so everyone would feel involved. But was she ready to pick up where Grandma had left off? That was the question that nagged her.
Running a farm to minister to needy Englisha kinner was so right on the one hand, and so unusual on the other. No one did such things. Once word trickled back to the community in Lancaster that she had received training from the Englisha to take on such a project, the whispers would start in spite of Grandma’s sterling reputation. Phoebe could hear them already.
Phoebe couldn’t settle down with a husband, and now look what she’s doing.
Yah, is it any wonder she couldn’t find a decent man? Pride is a hard thing to hide.
Our women have always been quiet and submissive. I thought Phoebe had changed her ways, but apparently not.
The words would sting, as those from the past had stung. They already did, and they hadn’t even been spoken yet. Would she have the courage to face them, to say nothing of running the farm? Phoebe Lapp had vowed she’d never again do anything risky in her life. Somehow she had to find peace and the right answers…but how? Should she simply say no? Uncle Homer would likely be relieved. But could she let the opportunity slip away? A job of this importance might never be offered to her again. Grandma really must have wanted this to happen for her to pay David a year’s wages without any promise that Uncle Homer would agree to the plan. And clearly, Grandma had believed this was right for her granddaughter.
Phoebe stood and paced the kitchen floor as her thoughts whirled. She couldn’t turn down this chance. If she walked away from this opportunity, she would look back in the years to come and wonder what could have been. In this job she could be herself again, and how many Englisha kinner might be helped if she had the courage to say yes?
Phoebe peered out the kitchen window toward the darkened barnyard, where the ponies had settled down for the night. They didn’t know that the Lapp family would soon arrive, and heavy decisions would be laid on the table. David had seemed so level headed this afternoon, even with his shyness. Could she depend on David? Grandma had confidence in him. Why else had she already paid him to help? Phoebe would never have thought to ask the man, and Uncle Homer might object to that arrangement tonight. If he did, she would insist that David be involved. There was no other way. Grandma’s plan must be implemented to its fullest or not at all.
And Grandma’s dream would not fail.
Moments later the sound of horses’ hooves beating on the pavement reached Phoebe. She popped the lid over the soup bowl. A few crumbs scattered on the floor, and Phoebe grabbed the broom from the closet to sweep them up. With the dustpan she gathered the debris and tossed it into the stove top. The flames came to life in a quick flash, and Phoebe slammed the lid back down with a bang.
As she was hanging the broom and dustpan back in the closet, the front door rattled and opened. No one knocked before Phoebe heard footsteps coming into the house. They were family members, and this was Grandma Lapp’s home. Phoebe gave her apron another shake and pasted on a brave smile before entering the living room.
Aunt Mary and Aunt Hettie took off their wraps and greeted Phoebe with smiles of their own. Phoebe held out her hand, and they gave her their shawls.
“How are things going?” Aunt Mary asked as Phoebe retreated toward the bedroom.
“Okay.” Phoebe tossed the word over her shoulder. “I just finished supper, but I can make more if anyone is hungry.”
“Oh, no. Please don’t bother,” Aunt Mary assured her. “I was afraid you would prepare something. I told Homer he should have made the details of his plan for this evening plainer to you. We are not here to add an extra burden.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Aunt Hettie echoed.
Phoebe nodded and entered the bedroom with the shawls. No comment was needed. Her family planned to make this evening easy. For that she was grateful.
When she returned to the living room, Uncle Homer and Uncle Noah had entered. They tossed their hats and coats on the floor.
“Goot evening,” Uncle Homer said. “We are back again.”
“Hi, Phoebe,” Uncle Noah added.
They all turned as the door opened, and Uncle Rueben entered with Aunt Millie behind him.
A chorus of “goot evening” went around the circle as everyone took their seats.
Phoebe found a chair, and once she was seated she clasped and unclasped her hands. This meeting was about her. Never had so much fuss been made about Phoebe Lapp’s affairs. She took a deep breath and willed the pounding of her heart to cease.
“Well, we might as well begin since everyone’s here,” Uncle Homer said. He took a quick glance around the room. “Thanks for coming out on such short notice. I didn’t know myself until this morning, and I had hoped this could be handled in some other way, but apparently…” Uncle Homer paused and then cleared his throat. “I’m not quite sure how this all began. I first heard about Mamm’s harebrained scheme when she sent Cousin Herman down to Maryland to buy some horses. I told Noah then about my feelings, and we both voiced our strong objections to Mamm, which—”
“And no one thought to tell me,” Aunt Millie interrupted.
“Millie, I know you are my sister.” Uncle Homer used his most patient tone. “But this was still a man’s matter at the time, and Mamm—”
“You should have told me of your objections!” Aunt Millie insisted.
“Maybe that is true,” Uncle Homer allowed. “But looking back is always easier than looking forward.”
“We presumed the matter would blow over,” Uncle Noah added.
Aunt Millie slid forward on the couch. “So let’s start with what Mamm planned to do
and stop beating around the bush. For Phoebe’s sake.”
“Millie, that’s saying enough,” Uncle Reuben warned.
Uncle Homer shrugged. “I suppose you are right, Millie. Phoebe doesn’t know, so that is where we should begin. Mamm wanted to open a farm of some sort for troubled Englisha children, a place where they could come for a week or so and find peace away from their world of woe and turmoil.”
“That’s a goot idea!” Aunt Millie proclaimed.
Uncle Noah made a face. “That is exactly why you weren’t asked. The men needed to think this through on their own.”
Aunt Millie took a deep breath but remained silent.
Uncle Homer waited a few moments before he continued. “So this morning when Phoebe brought up the subject of keeping the horses, I thought she was asking about something Mamm had told her. Turns out Mamm hadn’t mentioned her plan to Phoebe, but that’s beside the point.”
“It was a sign from the Lord,” Aunt Millie got in edgewise.
Uncle Homer ignored her. “So I thought we should at least look into this idea. Of course, that’s not saying we should follow the plan. Doing so would involve not just us three, but the rest of the children. We’d all have to invest our interest in the farm—not that most of us couldn’t. From what I know, no one is hurting financially.”
“I think it’s a great idea,” Aunt Millie said again.
Uncle Homer still ignored her. “So that’s where we are, and it’s where we left the conversation with Phoebe. So let’s begin with you, Phoebe. Would you consider running the farm?”
All eyes turned toward Phoebe, and she clutched both sides of the chair. Somehow the words came out. “I…I mean…I really didn’t know anything about this until today. I know that I’m the least likely person anyone would choose to do something like this, and that it’s risky and all…but I do think we should follow Grandma’s plan. If we don’t…I mean, if I don’t, I believe I’ll always regret it.”
Uncle Homer grunted. “You are right that the plan is risky. That’s why Noah and I never thought much of it, and it’s why we hoped it would all blow over.” Uncle Homer glanced at his brother. “But it didn’t, and here we are.”
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