Always Close to Home

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Always Close to Home Page 3

by Jerry S. Eicher


  Mamm’s sharp footsteps came up behind her. “Hurry up, Laura. The men left an hour ago.”

  “They won’t need anything to eat until lunchtime, and that’s hours away,” Laura shot back. “Calm down, Mamm.”

  “With your sharp tongue, how you ever caught John is beyond me,” Mamm said. “But thank the Lord you did.”

  “I had several chances at other men,” Laura reminded Mamm. “I didn’t have to take John if I didn’t want to.”

  “I know,” Mamm huffed. “I just hope John doesn’t figure things out before the wedding. Because if he does…” Mamm let the sentence hang as Lydia reappeared with their old horse, Tanner, in tow.

  “I know how to sew and cook, and I love kinner!” Laura said. Mamm didn’t seem to hear as she lifted the buggy shafts. Lydia expertly twirled Tanner underneath with a twist of her hand on his bridle.

  She could handle a horse just as well, Laura told herself, but why bother with the protest? Lydia knew she could, and Mamm did too. Mamm should complain less and appreciate her daughters more. Laura imagined that if she ever had twins, she would sit and talk with them all day long instead of lecturing them on how to win husbands and keep house. But Mamm was the way she was, and Laura didn’t want to fuss. John loved her and would soon ask her to be his frau. Wasn’t that enough blessing for now?

  Mamm interrupted Laura’s thoughts. “Jump in the buggy and let’s go.”

  Both girls climbed in, and Mamm jiggled the reins. Tanner tossed his head before taking off.

  “I guess we won’t be too late,” Mamm mused. “The sun’s not been up long.”

  “It’ll be okay, Mamm,” Lydia said. “We’ll be there by the time everyone else arrives.”

  Mamm didn’t relax until they were within sight of Deacon William’s place on Old Slate Road right off of Highway 10. Plenty of buggies were parked in the yard, but there was still a line of them on the road. Mamm pulled back on the reins and old Tanner swished his tail as they waited for their turn to park in the fields below the new barn’s foundation.

  Laura searched the forms of the men scurrying over the site. She couldn’t distinguish faces at this distance, but she was sure John was there in the mix. He was a hard worker and would have been among the first to arrive. If Mamm thought Laura lacked housekeeping skills, John more than made up for her lack. They would make a perfect team—once they said the wedding vows. She would be exactly the frau John needed. Laura searched the crowd of men again as a dreamy smile crept over her face.

  The buggy bounced into the field, and they parked beside Bishop Ezra’s frau, Rose, who had also just arrived.

  “Whoa there,” Rose hollered out to her horse in a cheerful voice. “This horse is awful frisky for an old woman like me.”

  “I’ll help you.” Lydia hopped out of the buggy to undo the tugs while Rose climbed down.

  “It’s sure a mighty fine morning for building,” Rose said as Laura made her way out of the buggy on the other side.

  Lydia responded with something Laura couldn’t hear. Lydia and Rose chattered away as Laura helped Mamm get Tanner out of the shafts. If Lydia could be as carefree around men as she was with Rose this morning, she would have no problem snagging a husband. Maybe she would suggest the point—gently of course—once they were at home again. For now, she wanted to catch a glimpse of John’s form among the men. He had to be there somewhere.

  “Take Tanner over to the fence,” Mamm said once the horse was out of the shafts. “Then come help carry the food inside.”

  Laura did as she was told, and Lydia came right behind her with Rose’s horse. They fastened the tie ropes on the fence wire at the same time.

  “To a beautiful day and a great barn-raising.” Laura glanced toward Lydia with a smile on her face.

  “Yah,” Lydia said. “And I think we’ll have plenty of food.”

  “Think about smiling to Milton,” Laura whispered. “Not about the food.”

  Lydia took a deep breath, and they linked arms to walk back toward the buggies.

  Chapter Four

  An hour later, Laura took yet another pitcher of lemonade and set it carefully on the small table under the oak tree. At her request, the task had been assigned to her and several of the other unmarried girls. The men had formed lines on both sides of the table, and so far the girls had been able to keep the wait a short one. She had known it would be a full-time job to keep the table stocked with lemonade and water, but she didn’t mind. Not with the chance to catch a glimpse of John once in a while when he came through the line.

  “Goot stuff, this lemonade is,” Bishop Ezra said with a twinkle in his eye. He stood off to the side of the line and took another swallow from his glass. “I shouldn’t have my second glass already. I haven’t worked that hard this morning, but I can’t stay away from all these goot-looking young women.”

  A guffaw of laugher from the line of men greeted the words. “You behave yourself now, Bishop,” one of the men teased.

  Laura gave the elderly man a kind smile. “You’re welcome to have as much as you wish,” she said. “I’m sure you’ve worked harder in your lifetime than most of these men have.”

  A chorus of “That’s not fair!” greeted Laura’s words.

  She smiled and continued to fill the lemonade glasses. John’s laugh was what she was waiting to hear, but he had yet to make his appearance at the table. How like him. The man worked much too hard, but that was John. It was one of the reasons she was so in love with him.

  “You could at least help pour the lemonade,” one of the men teased the bishop. “Make yourself useful, you know.”

  “I think I’ll go carry some boards for the grown men,” the bishop shot back. He ambled off to the roar of the men’s laughter.

  One of the men stepped closer to tease Laura. “Where’s that bright young fellow of yours?” He picked up a glass of lemonade but didn’t wait for her answer.

  “She’s speechless,” the next man in line said. “That’s what happens when you fall in love.”

  The laugher pealed again, but Laura ignored them. If John didn’t come soon, she would go looking for him. Exactly how that would be managed, she didn’t know. She wasn’t above a march right along the outskirts of the group of working men. She’d find John and hand the glass of lemonade right to him. She’d scold him for not coming sooner.

  “Here.” Laura handed the dipper to one of the other girls as she grabbed a large glass of lemonade and hurried off.

  “Where’s she going?” one of the men hollered after Laura.

  “I wanted that glass of lemonade,” another added.

  The sound of their laugher was soon lost to Laura amid the noise of the building project. Huge timbers stood tall in the air as the frame of the barn was raised. Men swarmed everywhere, and Laura was careful to keep a proper distance from their work. She finally caught sight of John on the other side of the barn, bent over a wall frame that was lying on the ground. She skirted even farther around the men at work and approached the spot where John was working. A few feet away she stopped short. There was no sense in hollering to get his attention. John wouldn’t hear her. Laura waved her arm, but John stayed bent over with his attention focused on a massive beam. He held a wooden peg and a large mallet in his hands. He looked ready to pound in the peg when Laura finally caught his attention.

  John straightened himself as a huge grin spread over his face. Several of the other men noticed and looked in the same direction. Smiles broke out and hands shoved John in her direction. She couldn’t hear their words, but she could imagine how the men were teasing John.

  “She’s come looking for you, John.”

  “Sounds pretty serious if you ask me.”

  John was red-faced when he arrived in front of her, and it wasn’t from exertion. Laura gave him a shy smile and lifted up the glass of lemonade. “You’re surely needing some by now,” she said.

  “I guess I got a little too busy,” he agreed. “But what I needed more
was a look at your face.” John took the glass and their fingers brushed. She gazed deeply into his eyes, as John’s fingers slowly left hers. He lifted the glass of lemonade and took a long sip, and as she looked up at him, he didn’t look away. She would hold his hand in marriage someday. She would be his frau.

  “This is goot,” he said—but he really meant she was goot.

  She wanted to hold his hand right here in public, but she had best not. Quiet and privacy lay behind a small shed only a short distance away. She had imagined something like this moment all morning. Would John follow her if she led the way?

  “This is goot,” John said again.

  “Come,” Laura whispered, stepping backward. He hesitated with a quick glance over his shoulder. All the men were back at work, and no one was paying them any attention. Together they approached the small shed, and Laura stepped under the edge of the roof and out of sight from the builders. John took another quick glance behind him before he followed. His head barely fit under the shelter’s eaves, but this would do.

  “John,” she whispered. “I—”

  He silenced her with a touch on her arm. “You brought me a glass of lemonade,” he said, his voice hushed. “I hope it was because you wanted to see me.”

  “Yah, very much!” she said. “You work so hard.”

  He grinned.

  “Don’t work so hard, and be careful out there.” She reached up with both hands to touch his face. The touch of his bristled chin felt good. “You’ll look goot in a beard, John.”

  He grinned again. “I forgot to shave this morning with the excitement of the day in front of me.”

  “You’re so handsome,” she said with a shy look. “Much too handsome, in fact.”

  “Is this a warning?” he teased. “You’re going to send me packing because I’m too handsome?”

  “Oh, John,” she whispered, pulling him closer.

  His empty arm slipped around Laura’s shoulder and he held her tightly. She leaned into him and tilted her head up. His face edged closer to hers…and finally their lips touched. After a moment, she pulled away and sighed. Oh, that this was just the first of many such moments! Someday she would be in his arms as his frau, but this would have to be goot enough for now. She looked up into his face. “I shouldn’t be keeping you, John.”

  “I’m glad you brought me back here for this,” he said. Color rushed into Laura’s face.

  His grin broadened. “You’re special to me, Laura. You know that, don’t you?”

  “Yah.” She looked away.

  He held her tight. “Maybe I should get back,” he teased, but Laura didn’t move. His fingers found her face and she turned to meet his gaze. The teasing look was gone, replaced by a gleam in his eyes. “You are very dear to me,” he whispered. She lifted her head again and the bristles brushed her cheeks. She pulled his head down with both hands and their lips touched again.

  This time John slowly pulled away. “You’re very sweet, Laura,” he whispered, his fingers stroking her cheek. “You will be my frau someday, won’t you?”

  Laura caught her breath. “You know I will.”

  He studied her face for a long time before he bent his head again. Laura clung to him even longer. He finally shook his head. “We should be going back. I could stay here with you all day, but…”

  “Of course,” she said. She took the empty glass from his hand. “You go out the way we came. I’ll go around the other side of the building.”

  John nodded, and she brushed his lips with her finger before she slipped away and moved quickly along the edge of the crowd. The noise was intense. The men were about to set another of the massive walls in place. The walls looked like spiderwebs once they were off the ground, giant beams interlaced with wooden pins that formed the shell of the building. Already the men had begun to install the cross-webbing on the far side. Laura smiled at the sight of John heading into the crowd of men again. Her gaze followed him, but he didn’t return to the wall he had come from. Rather, John headed straight for the spot where the wall was being raised.

  “Pull her up, boys, pull her up,” Laura heard a foreman shout above the din.

  Strong arms strained on the ropes as the men’s muscles bulged. John had vanished, but he was somewhere among the men. She had felt his arms around her only moments before. They had been tender then, but now they would be pulling on the ropes with a strength that made her tremble. She was blessed to have such a man’s love, and now his promise to wed her. Laura’s knees shook as the huge timbers on the wall groaned and moved skyward. She held her breath until she couldn’t hold it any longer.

  The wall had stopped moving, and the orders increased in volume. She heard a solid yell now. “Pull her, boys, and don’t stop now. Pull!”

  Once more the wall inched upward until it stood upright. A mighty cheer went up from the men.

  “Fasten her tight,” the foreman hollered again. “Don’t let her get away from you now.”

  Ladders were pushed upward and leaned against the newly erected wall, held in place by ropes on either side. Laura could see John climbing one of the ladders, his step steady as he moved ever higher.

  John was soon on top of the wall with a wooden peg in one hand and a heavy mallet in the other. Laura held her breath again. Surely he would pound in the peg quickly and get down from there. Instead, John stood and walked along the beam. She wanted to scream at him to be careful. Why would he be doing such a daring thing? But maybe it wasn’t daring at all. For all she knew, this was a normal part of how a barn was built.

  John had both of his hands out as he bent to kneel on the beam. He brought the hammer back to pound away at his wooden peg.

  The foreman’s voice rose above the noise. “Hold her tight!”

  As John pounded away, the wall seemed to shake for a moment. John clung to the timber for a few seconds before he began pounding again. Laura stifled her gasp. She must not be fearful, but this was her promised one up there on the wall. Were all barn-raisings this way? She had never before paid much attention to the men’s work on a day like this.

  “Don’t let her move!” the foreman shouted. Laura looked up to see the wall shaking again. “Get down from there, John, until we get this tightened up,” the foreman hollered. Yet instead of moving back toward the ladder, John clung to the wall with both hands. Maybe he couldn’t move? But he must. Laura almost forced her way through the crowd toward him, not sure of what goot she could do.

  Thankfully the shaking calmed down and John whacked the peg again a few times.

  “That’s goot enough,” the foreman hollered.

  John nodded and stood. He was halfway back to the ladder when the wall began shaking again—violently this time. And without warning, John was catapulted into the air.

  The silence swept like a wave over the crowd until Laura heard her own screams. She began to run, only to fall after a few yards. What had happened? Where was John? She opened her mouth to scream again, but nothing came out. The world in front of her slowly drifted into a solid white.

  Chapter Five

  Moments later Nancy Beiler left the large bowl of carrots on the kitchen table and stepped closer to the window. The chatter of the women’s voices still filled the house, but a silence had fallen outside.

  “What is it, Nancy?” Deacon William’s frau, Elizabeth, asked.

  “The men have stopped working,” Nancy said.

  “Really?” Elizabeth stepped closer to peer out of the kitchen window.

  Behind Nancy stillness crept into the kitchen, as several more women joined them.

  “Something’s wrong,” Bishop Ezra’s frau, Rose, said, but Nancy was already halfway out the washroom door.

  “Someone must be hurt,” she called over her shoulder as she hurried on.

  But what could she do if this was true? She knew only the basics of first aid, which she had learned from books and from…She must not think about Charles Wiseman right now. Nancy broke into a run. The double life she ha
d been living these past few months could not be revealed even if there had been a serious injury.

  Nancy slowed as she approached the edge of the crowd. “What’s happened?” she asked. “Has someone been hurt?”

  One of the men turned to her. “Yah. John Yoder just fell. Deacon William has gone to call the Englisha ambulance.”

  “I’d best see John then,” Nancy said, pushing past him.

  Several of the women from the house had followed her, but they stopped at the edge of the crowd. There were girls over by the lemonade table but they stood as if transfixed.

  The men parted for Nancy without objection. She was the district’s schoolteacher, and she was also an older single woman. Those two characteristics in combination engendered a degree of deference. A respect she had pushed to the limit these last few school terms with her newfangled teaching methods, but she couldn’t help herself. There was so much knowledge out there. Ignorance wasn’t necessary. She still believed that—even with Deacon William’s admonishments fresh in her ear. He had asked her to tone down her fancy Englisha lessons, and stick with the basics of reading, writing, and arithmetic.

  Nancy stepped between the broad shoulders of two Amish men who were standing with heads bowed in prayer. Prayer was important, yah, but how much better would things be if there were a first responder present amongst the Amish. This person could administer aid long before the ambulance arrived from either Heuvelton or Richville.

  Nancy stumbled and nearly fell. She caught herself as the thought rang in her ear. What if the ambulance came from Richville? What if Charles was the paramedic on duty? Would he know to pretend he didn’t recognize her? Charles was an honest soul if there ever was one. He didn’t like the secrecy in their relationship, but he was willing to put up with it. That’s just how things were, and he understood.

  The question, of course, was how she had become entangled in a secret relationship with an Englisha man. She still didn’t know. It had just happened. Charles had stopped by the schoolhouse a few months ago after classes were dismissed to ask if a team of paramedics could offer a first-aid lesson to the school. The answer, of course, was no. But the truth was, she shouldn’t have spoken with the man at all, let alone for the length of time that she had. Something in her voice or her look must have given her away. Charles had dared to ask her out on a date that first evening. They had spoken like two souls who had found each other in the dark. And yet how could that be? Charles was an Englisha man who volunteered his spare time for goot causes. She was an Amish schoolteacher who could create a scandal and a half if her innocent dinner with Charles ever became known in the community.

 

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