Phoebe's Gift

by Jerry S. Eicher

  Sadie snorted. “New horizons! This looks like the fifth century to me.”

  “Hush!” Mrs. Broman ordered. “I don’t want any of you making any trouble for Phoebe. She’ll have enough on her hands with three children.”

  “I can leave,” Sadie offered.

  “You will not.” Mrs. Broman pasted on her bright smile again. “You will be in love with this farm by the week’s end. Last week George and Bill couldn’t stop talking about their time here on the ride back into town. They wanted to stay an extra week. So be thankful you get to be here.”

  “Come.” Phoebe took over. This lecture was obviously doing Sadie no goot. All three girls were beginning to grow long faces.

  “Let’s go inside,” Phoebe suggested. “We’ll sit on the swing later, maybe at lunchtime, and have a porch picnic.”

  None of the girls said anything as Phoebe led the way through the front door. The kitchen was the first stop, which didn’t provoke any spark of interest. She should have prepared food, but the thought hadn’t occurred to her. What better way to welcome her visitors to the farmhouse than with a warm breakfast of bacon, eggs, and oatmeal, even at midmorning?

  “I should have made something to eat,” she told them. “I’m sorry, but we’ll have a big breakfast spread tomorrow morning. We can even prepare pancakes if you want, along with maple syrup.”

  Slight smiles appeared on the girls’ faces.

  “You’re spoiling them already,” Mrs. Broman chided, but she appeared pleased.

  “So now the upstairs,” Phoebe announced. They followed her through the kitchen doorway, their faces lifted toward hers.

  She opened the stair door, and Sadie chirped, “What have we here, a secret stairwell to the witch’s castle? Where are the cobwebs?”

  “I swept them all up,” Phoebe shot back. Sadie laughed, but the girl had been serious.

  “Be nice,” Mrs. Broman lectured them.

  Phoebe forced herself to chuckle. “Up here is where the three of you will be sleeping,” she told them.

  The stair squeaked, which produced a squeal from Sadie. “I told you, the witch is above us.”

  “Hush it,” Mrs. Broman lectured again.

  Phoebe set her face and moved on. The Poltergeist tales had been bad enough, and now there would be witch talk all week. “Help me, dear Lord,” she prayed quickly.

  “How perfect!” Sadie exclaimed at the top of the stairs. “This is a haunt.”

  Phoebe bit back her protest. “This will be your room, Sadie.” She held open the first bedroom door. “This was my room before Grandma Lapp passed.”

  “Where did she die?” Sadie asked.

  Considering the circumstances, there was no safe answer.

  Phoebe motioned for the girls to enter. “There’s a dresser and a warm bed and a window over the barnyard. It’s the nicest bedroom up here.”

  Sadie hadn’t moved from the hallway. “Where did she die?”

  “Ah…” Mrs. Broman began.

  “Downstairs,” Phoebe told her. The truth might as well be told. “As have many other people before my grandmother, I suspect. And just for your information, Grandma’s in heaven with the Lord, and her life was a great blessing to all of us.”

  Sadie wrinkled up her face but remained quiet. This apparently had not been the expected answer.

  “Do you want to see your room, Sadie?” Phoebe asked.

  Sadie entered and looked around for a long time, as her sisters ran over to the bed and bounced on it.

  “A real quilt!” Eva exclaimed. “I want this room.”

  “This bedroom goes to the oldest girl,” Phoebe told her. “Unless Sadie doesn’t want it?”

  “I’ll take it.” Sadie didn’t hesitate, and Eva’s face fell. Sadie cautiously approached the bed to run her hand over the handcrafted quilt.

  “It’s a Texas Star pattern,” Phoebe told her. “Grandma Lapp made it while she was still alive.”

  Sadie grunted but didn’t respond.

  “Now for Eva’s room,” Phoebe told them. “Follow me.”

  They crossed the hallway without Sadie, who stayed behind on the bed.

  “It’s okay,” Mrs. Broman whispered to Phoebe. “She likes the room.”

  Phoebe was sure there were tears in Mrs. Broman’s eyes. That seemed strange, but nothing should be surprising after the last week she had spent with George and Bill. She should have learned that lesson well.

  Phoebe held open the bedroom door, and Eva cautiously entered. Her gaze stopped on the doll seated on the dresser, its face blank. Phoebe froze by the door. Would there be a negative reaction again? Perhaps a ghost story this time? Instead, Eva moved forward and reached with both hands to grasp the doll to her chest.

  “That went over well,” Mrs. Broman whispered in Phoebe’s ear.

  “Yah,” Phoebe agreed. But why? Englisha girls weren’t accustomed to faceless dolls.

  “She looks at me so kind.” Eva held the doll at arm’s length. “And she is so real.”

  “Do you like the bedroom then?” Phoebe exhaled slowly.

  Eva’s face glowed. “It’s even better than Sadie’s bedroom, but don’t tell her that.”

  “I’m staying too,” Bella piped up.

  Phoebe shrugged and glanced at Mrs. Broman. “Why not? There are no hard and fast rules.”

  Mrs. Broman wiped her eyes. “That’s what this is all about. Getting away from hard and fast rules. That works for me.”

  “We’re off to a goot start, then!” Phoebe exclaimed. “And I haven’t said this yet, but I am glad I have three little girls with me this week. Last week George and Bill were here, but now I have you.”

  Bella ignored the little speech to reach for the doll in her sister’s arms. Eva complied with regret written on her face. “I want my turn again soon.”

  “We have a boy doll in the other room,” Phoebe suggested, but her words fell on deaf ears. Both Eva and Bella were wrapped up in their own world as they took turns cradling the doll.

  “I really should go,” Mrs. Broman whispered again. “I see that you will be getting along great with them.”

  “Thanks,” Phoebe whispered. She followed Mrs. Broman out into the hallway. “What about their mother?”

  “She abandoned them a month ago, poor things,” Mrs. Broman told her. “Ran off with a new boyfriend, we think. She’ll be back eventually. All such things have their end. In the meantime…” Mrs. Broman sighed. “You don’t know how much good this will do the girls. I wish I could leave them with you full-time, but things are what they are. We might have a nice foster home on the horizon. Hopefully, we can take them straight there next week. We’re trying to keep them together. That’s all they’ve ever known or trusted, really—one another. It’s hard, I know, but that’s the world out there.” Mrs. Broman gave a little laugh. “A thousand miles from here, that’s for sure.”

  “That’s very kind of you to say. Will you check on us later in the week?”

  “We’ll see. Maybe Wednesday, but I really think you’ll be fine without me. If not, you can call. I’ll be back Friday afternoon.” Mrs. Broman squeezed Phoebe’s arm. “Make it good, dear heart. You’re the best.”

  Phoebe held back her tears as Mrs. Broman disappeared down the stairs. She wiped them away and returned to the front bedroom. Sadie was still seated on the bed, apparently lost in deep thought.

  “You okay?” Phoebe asked with a smile.

  “Yep,” Sadie replied. “Can you sit with me?”

  “Certainly.” Phoebe lowered herself onto the quilt, sitting beside the young girl’s thin frame.

  “Tell me about your grandmother,” Sadie said, peering up into Phoebe’s face.

  Phoebe took a deep breath. “I would be glad to,” she began. “See Grandma Lapp’s the reason…” The story flowed easily, and Eva and Bella soon joined them with the doll to curl up on the quilt. Neither of the three said a word until Phoebe finished.

  “That’s no witch’s story,”
Sadie observed.

  “No, it isn’t,” Phoebe agreed as she slipped her arm around Sadie’s shoulders to pull her close.

  TWENTY-ONE

  The following morning, the dawn sky over the Adirondacks glowed red through a blanket of clouds on the horizon. Phoebe dressed and held the kerosene lamp in one hand while she pushed back the drapes of her bedroom window to peer out over the valley. There would be rain today—perhaps a thunderstorm, considering how the sky was painted. The attempt at horseback riding with the girls would be postponed, but things were going well otherwise. The three had slept through their first night in the old farmhouse without awakening with nightmares or worse. That was much better than last week’s frightening stories from George and Bill.

  Phoebe trembled at the memory. Thankfully David had comforted her the next morning, but there would be no repeat of anything like that this week. The girls had listened respectfully to the story of Grandma Lapp’s dream yesterday. They seemed uplifted afterward, even hopeful about life. What must the poor creatures have endured with a mother who abandoned them?

  Phoebe jumped at the soft knock on the front door. She allowed the window drape to flutter back into place. She held the lamp up to the bedroom mirror and peered at her image. Everything was in place to greet whoever was at the front door.

  The knock came again, and Phoebe hurried out of the bedroom. Who could be here this early? Aunt Millie wouldn’t call at this hour, but David might. After last week, he would likely be concerned with how the first night with the girls had gone, but she was okay.

  Phoebe cracked open the front door, and David’s face danced in the shadows outside.

  “Goot morning,” he whispered. “Are you okay?”

  “Yah. I just got up, but you shouldn’t have worried.”

  “Did they behave themselves last night?”

  “You mean, did they try to burn down the house?” she teased.

  Concern still rippled on his features. “Did Sadie attempt such a thing?”

  Phoebe suppressed a nervous giggle. “I half suspected her, but no. They slept the night through in silence. I haven’t been upstairs since I put them down for the night.”

  “Then they are still here?” David stepped back to peer at the upstairs windows.

  Phoebe laughed this time. “They aren’t Amish girls who sneak out of windows in the dead of night on their rumspringa—and they’re not old enough to do that anyway.”

  David managed a grin. “Girls are girls.”

  “David,” she chided. “I never snuck out of windows. That’s a joke.”

  “I know,” he said, but he didn’t believe her from the look on his face. She could easily imagine Ruth sneaking out of bedroom windows for secret meetings in the night.

  “Are you sure everything is okay?” He stepped closer to study her face.

  “Yah, David. But now that you’re here, why don’t you come in for breakfast?”

  “Really?” He seemed pleased. “I still have time to run home for Mamm’s breakfast.”

  “Don’t you like mine?”

  “I haven’t eaten too many of them,” he shot back.

  “Well, we’ll have to take care of that problem.” She smiled at him. “Come in, and I’ll start the preparations.”

  He followed her inside. “Shouldn’t you check on the girls?” He glanced at the stair door.

  “I’m not going to awaken them that way.” She grinned. “Let the smell of a goot breakfast cooking be what brings them out of their sleep on their first morning in Amish country.”

  “You are a romantic,” he said. He seated himself at the kitchen table. “Can I help with something?”

  “Now that’s romantic,” she told him with a smile.

  He chuckled. “Until I spill bacon grease all over the kitchen floor.”

  “I’ll watch you.” She motioned toward the stove. “Start the fire, and I’ll get the pan and the bacon.”

  He shrugged and got to his feet. His movements were slow and careful, and he did everything right.

  “You’ve done this before!”

  He made a face. “I started the fire a few times for Mamm, and I’ve made a few pieces of bacon on the sly when the family was gone for the day. Breakfast at lunchtime isn’t something I brag about. But I can make popcorn now.”

  “I’m sure you did a great job with lunch,” she encouraged him. “My brothers would have made Mamm leave them something for lunch.”

  “It was edible. At least I didn’t die.”

  They laughed together as the bacon began to simmer. He watched over it while Phoebe busied herself with eggs and toast. She couldn’t help but take frequent glances toward him. She wasn’t used to a man working in the kitchen with her, especially one who was frying bacon. Popcorn-making with the family present was one thing. This turn of events must be kept from Aunt Millie’s ears. Who knew what her reaction would be? Probably a knowing smile and a wise comment about Phoebe falling in love.

  Phoebe’s face flamed, and she stepped closer to the oven. If David noticed her blush, she needed a convenient excuse. He would never think such thoughts about their relationship, and she wouldn’t either if Aunt Millie hadn’t planted them.

  “Am I doing okay?” he asked, glancing quickly in her direction.

  Had David seen her face?

  “We won’t die,” she quipped, and thankfully he laughed.

  The hinges of the stair door creaked, and they both turned to see Sadie’s sleepy face in the kitchen doorway.

  “Goot morning,” Phoebe sang out. “Did you sleep well?”

  “I guess so.” Sadie appeared befuddled. “Where am I? And you’re…”

  “Yah, I’m cooking breakfast with David.” Phoebe smiled her warmest. Maybe that would cover the continued heat that rushed up her neck in long flames. “He’s being very nice to us this morning. He came up early from his parents’ place to help out.”

  “Is he your boyfriend?” Sadie asked.

  Phoebe laughed. “No. He helps out with the farm. David is part of Grandma Lapp’s dream. Remember the story I told you last night?”

  Sadie nodded but said nothing. Phoebe dared give David a quick look. He appeared pensive and seemed absorbed in frying his bacon, but the pan didn’t need that much attention at the moment. Did he think she might be his girlfriend someday? Was this why he fried bacon in her kitchen? Was he in love with her? But how could that be possible? She was the one who had invited him in. Still…Phoebe pushed the thought away. She must focus on the task at hand.

  “Do you want to wake your sisters?” Phoebe gave Sadie a bright smile. “And help them get dressed?”

  “They usually dress themselves.”

  “How about we change the routine this week?” Phoebe suggested. “Helping one another is something we do on the farm. Can you, dear? That would be very sweet of you.”

  Sadie appeared to waver for a moment, but then she turned to leave and climb back up the wooden stair steps.

  “You are a goot teacher,” David said. He lifted the first of the golden bacon slabs out of the pan. “Are these okay?”

  “Yah,” she told him. “And thanks for the praise. I’m—”

  “I mean it, Phoebe. Don’t run yourself down.”

  Phoebe glanced away as her heart pounded. A man’s words didn’t usually affect her like this, not after…but David spoke the truth. She did have too low of an opinion of what she could handle. Grandma Lapp had thought her capable of more, and so did David. She was the one who always objected.

  “Maybe I should go help Sadie.” Phoebe still didn’t look at him. “Isn’t that what a goot teacher would do?”

  David smiled and continued flipping his bacon slabs. She left him to hurry up the stairs. Sadie was seated on the bed beside her sisters, with tears running down her face.

  “What is wrong?” Phoebe exclaimed. She joined Sadie on the bed to wrap her arms around the thin shoulders.

  “They won’t listen and get up,” Sadie told h
er.

  Phoebe glanced at the sleeping children. “That’s okay,” she said, wanting to comfort the little girl. “Aren’t they sweet? Maybe we should let them rest. I can warm the breakfast things for them later.”

  Sadie nestled against Phoebe. “Are you always this nice to people?”

  Phoebe looked away. “I have many faults, just like everyone else.”

  Sadie appeared skeptical, and Phoebe laughed. “It’s true.”

  “Well, I like you. I hope we can stay here always.”

  Phoebe pulled back from the embrace. “Dear, you know that’s not possible. You’re here for—”

  “I know. But don’t tell me right now. If only Mom would…” Silence fell, and fresh tears came.

  “You poor thing.” Phoebe pulled her tight again. “Shall we go down and eat breakfast with David? Maybe that will help.”

  Sadie shrugged, but she stood and followed Phoebe down the stairs. Her tears were dry by the time they arrived in the kitchen, but David must have noticed her tearstained cheeks.

  He sent Phoebe a sympathetic look and pulled out the chair for Sadie to seat herself.

  “The best seat in the house for you!” he proclaimed. “This is where the man will sit once Phoebe marries and settles in with him—” He seemed to catch himself midsentence.

  Phoebe looked away. Obviously he imagined someone else here besides himself as her husband. She hurried over to the stove to hide the heat that rose up her neck again. She seemed to be blushing continuously this morning, especially at the thought of David as her husband and head of the house.

  Phoebe grabbed the plate of eggs from the corner of the stove. David must have fried them while she was upstairs. They looked well done, with perfect yolks in the centers. The man had extensive experience in the kitchen despite his denials. She had never thought of a man as capable of cooking, but the idea was intriguing, to say the least. When Phoebe turned around, the plate of eggs nearly flew out of her hand.

  “Careful there,” David warned from his place at the table.

  He had taken the chair beside hers. Did he mean anything special by the gesture? She should take the one on the other side of the table, but she wanted to sit beside him. The heat flamed once more into her face, and there was no stove close enough to blame. Thankfully, David didn’t notice, but Sadie clearly did. The girl wore a slight smile. At least she approved of Phoebe’s heart’s capers when it had a mind all of its own.