“Denki.”
Aaron was sure she would continue doing great, until Daed wore her out. Then again, Daed acted different with Sylvia. Kinder. Gentler. Was it just an act?
Mamm set the casserole on the table. Sylvia stared at Aaron, shaking her head as if she couldn’t believe the kind of man he was. Guilt tried to climb into the pit of his stomach and steal his appetite, but he had nothing to feel bad about. His parents were his responsibility. She was merely the hired help, and he didn’t owe her anything.
Sylvia went to the cabinet and grabbed a serving bowl, then dumped peas from the stovetop into it. After a flurry of activity, with the two women getting items from the fridge, oven, and stovetop to the table, all four of them bowed their heads for silent prayer.
His Daed shifted, letting everyone know prayer time had ended. Then he sliced the meatloaf and passed the platter to Sylvia. She took a serving and passed the plate to Aaron. Bowls of vegetables were swapped back and forth until everyone had a full plate.
Sylvia put a napkin in her lap. “We have ten heifers on track for calving between now and September. With any luck we won’t lose a heifer or a calf in the process. Then we can get the mamas back in with the milking population and have a few bull calves we can sell.”
Aaron had put a new venture on the table for his Daed to consider, and now this girl was casually filling his head with false hope, talking about the herd as if they were turning milk into gold. She’d done a remarkable job on the farm. He wouldn’t argue that. But it wasn’t enough. When it came to the Blank dairy farm, it’d never be enough.
He downed his drink, wishing she wasn’t there so he and his Daed could really talk.
“With that kind of progress, I’m sure we won’t need to sell,” his Daed said.
Aaron set his glass on the table. “Daed, we should talk about that privately.”
“Sylvia’s worked here from before sunup to after sundown for four months, and although milk production still has a long way to go, she’s helped turn things around. She loves this farm the way I’d always hoped you would and the way I still hope my grandson will one day. It’s worth hanging on to for Ivan.”
“Ivan, Daed. Really?” Aaron tried to keep the disrespect from his tone. Ivan hadn’t even begun school yet, and when he graduated, years from now, Aaron was confident he wouldn’t be interested in farming. Grey hadn’t been. Over the years Grey had pitched in if they were in a bind, but he’d never considered quitting his work at the cabinetry shop to make his living on this farm. And Aaron’s sister had never asked him to. Their son was like Grey. Even with his disability, he loved woodwork and carving. Aaron believed Ivan would follow in his father’s footsteps. Besides, with the financial mess the farm was in, his parents couldn’t afford to hold on to it until Ivan was old enough to be of real help.
The hurt in Daed’s eyes lasted only a moment. “I won’t talk of selling, especially behind Sylvia’s back.”
Aaron propped his forearms on the table, staring at her. “She’s a hired hand, not someone who should’ve worked her way into your hearts and loyalties.”
“Don’t you talk to me about loyalty, Son.”
“Daed, I’m—”
“We’re not discussing this.”
“No, of course not.”
Daed passed the DairyAll bill to Sylvia. “Aaron saw this, and he thinks we should sell. I don’t agree, but it’s time you knew the truth of what we’re facing.”
Aaron figured his Daed was telling her now because if he didn’t, Aaron might.
Concern lined her features as she studied the bill. “What’s a lien?”
Daed shrugged and pushed his plate away. “Nothing to worry about with the progress we’re making.”
Aaron wondered if she recognized how absurd it was for his Daed to show her the statement and then skirt around explaining it.
Sylvia turned to his mother. “Dora?”
Mamm’s eyes filled with tears, and she shook her head. This was so typical of his parents, shrugging off their problems even when directly asked about them. Aaron didn’t consider himself any better when it came to coping skills, though. His tendency had been to drown himself in beer so he didn’t have to face his issues.
“We’re in default on a loan,” Aaron said. “Because of that, DairyAll has the legal right to put a lien on the property. It means they get their money first when the farm is sold.”
“We’re not selling, so what difference does that make?”
“If they put a lien on the place, Daed will owe more money than the farm is worth. A place can’t be sold for more than it’s worth.”
“But if he’s not interested in selling,” Sylvia insisted, “it doesn’t matter, right?”
“He also can’t borrow more money if—no, when something else goes wrong,” Aaron said. “If equipment goes out and he can’t afford to fix it, you’ll be milking by hand, and production will drop. And he’ll have to buy feed rather than grow it. If he can’t sell enough milk to pay the mortgage, he’ll lose the farm, and his credit will be worthless. He’ll have nowhere to—”
“Okay,” Daed bellowed. “She’s got the idea.”
Sylvia stared at the DairyAll statement. “This is bad news, certainly. But I don’t see how it changes anything. Our plan all along was to get the bills paid.” She tilted her head, making Daed look at her. “Right?”
“Ya.” His Daed sounded weary. “But the pressure is on. It’s almost mid-June already, and we haven’t made our first cut. We’ve got to get that hay cut and out of the field. If we have enough help to accomplish that before it rains again, we can get top dollar for it. Can we depend on you?” Daed kept his eyes on his plate, but everyone knew the question was directed at Aaron.
“I’m here to help,” Aaron said, “but I think you have to be realistic. The debt outweighs our resources. After the hay is harvested and sold, you and Mamm need to go with me to Owl’s Perch and look at the shop.”
“No thanks.”
“In exchange for your coming to see it and really hearing me out, I’ll give this farm my all for the next ten weeks.” Aaron figured he had nothing to lose by that deal. He was stuck here regardless.
“Ten weeks?” Mamm asked.
“That’s when I need to be back in Owl’s Perch.” He had nearly two more weeks after that date before he had to be there to take over the shop, but there was no sense in telling them. He was going to be in Owl’s Perch as close to mid-August as possible. He needed the training time before Leo retired.
His father raised his eyes, studying his son. “There’s no way to know if you’re telling the truth about helping out through the summer. You lied to us for years, never doing half of what you were supposed to do.”
“That’s a warped perspective. You were laid up in bed most of the time, unable to work. I really tried, but you got up just long enough to see what I hadn’t accomplished, never once mentioning what I had done.”
Daed stood, his chest puffed in challenge. “You’ve always had your own slant, your half-truths and lies. I bought this place for you, and you ran out on us!”
Aaron rose to his feet, daring to meet his Daed’s challenge eye to eye. “For me? Really, Daed? You’re going to call me a liar and then make a statement like that? Did I ask for a farm?”
Daed put an arthritic finger in Aaron’s face. “I’m supposed to sell the farm, move elsewhere, and trust you won’t up and leave us? I don’t trust you into next week, let alone next year.”
“I’ve changed! Maybe if you’d talk to me instead of avoiding me, you could see that. I’m clean now. And I’ve come back here because it’s the right thing to do. I’m the only family you have left.”
“You’ve come back here because you need something from me. I don’t know what it is yet, but there’s a reason.”
Aaron wished he could say no, wished Leo hadn’t required him to get his Daed to cosign. Instead he tried to keep a blank face while sidestepping his Daed’s question. It�
�d be best to keep the request for the signature to himself for now.
“Michael.” Mamm moved to stand between them. “We need his help, and he’s offered us two and a half months in exchange for one day of our attention.”
Daed turned to Sylvia. “He’ll run off or do shoddy work. You need to know that.”
She reached across the table and picked up the pile of bills. “Until then, he’ll help us. We need him.”
Aaron loved being treated like a pack mule, especially by a young woman who stood to gain too much by his efforts. Then again, he needed her help to keep DairyAll from putting a lien on the farm.
Daed sighed. “Okay. You work through the summer, and your Mamm and I will go see this store.”
“And listen while I explain the ins and outs of that kind of business.”
“Ya.”
“Then it’s a deal.”
“You two sit.” Mamm went to the refrigerator. “It’s time for dessert.” They took their seats.
She pulled out a plate and set it in front of Aaron. “I fixed your favorite.”
“Peanut butter pie. It looks fabulous.” Aaron lifted his fork. “Denki, Mamm.”
“So this shop is in Owl’s Perch?” Mamm gave Daed a piece of pie. “Where’s that?”
“It’s in Perry County.”
Daed looked a little surprised.
“Ya, that’s right,” Aaron said. “It’s in the valley below that lookout area you’ve always loved.”
Aaron hoped a seed of desire to escape this farm had been effectively planted in his parents’ hearts. Now it just needed watering.
Mamm started to pass a slice of pie to Sylvia, but she stood. “I need to check on the calf.”
As Aaron watched her walk out, his heart pounded with feelings that made no sense. Maybe this was how it felt to undermine someone’s dreams. What he really needed was a way to make her want to go home or to another farm.
Nine
The warm, sudsy water slid over Cara’s hands while she scrubbed the pots and pans as if they’d offended her. The worst of the heat was gone for the day as the sun began to set, but she couldn’t find any solace in the pink hues outside the kitchen window or the clip-clop of rigs passing by.
Thoughts of the way she’d exploded at Trevor plagued her. If the church leaders caught wind of how she’d treated him—and they could if Trevor chose to go see Emma and Levi and ask why they hadn’t picked Cara up at the bus station all those years ago—her plans to marry Ephraim could be jeopardized.
But she doubted Trevor could follow through on anything, so she didn’t need to worry about him telling community members about her outburst. And she’d confirmed that Ada and Deborah wouldn’t tell. So why couldn’t she just forget about the incident? The man certainly had no problems forgetting about her … until recently.
Squeals and giggles from outside drew Cara to the back screen door. The fenced yard was a wonderland to her daughter, who’d been raised in some of the poorest sections of New York City.
Lori tugged on one end of a towel while Better Days pulled on the other. “Look, Mom. I’m winning.”
Cara stepped outside, noticing that several items had been jerked off the clotheslines. “Lori Moore! Stop right this instant! What are you thinking?”
Lori froze in place.
Cara clenched her fists, trying to calm herself. This wasn’t like her. She wasn’t a yeller. They were the mom-and-daughter team that fought against the odds, not with each other. But fury assaulted her just as it had yesterday when Trevor showed up. She swallowed, trying to gain perspective. “Clothes on the line are not toys for you and that dog to rip up.”
Her daughter nodded, and Cara wondered what she must sound and look like from Lori’s perspective. She hadn’t meant for her tone to be so rough, but she burned with offense.
She’d always loved her daughter’s silly ways; even the careless or thoughtless ones were a beautiful reminder of childhood innocence. Had Cara let Trevor steal that part of her too? She’d groused her way through last night and all of today, and her anger continued to grow.
She picked up the towel that Lori and Better Days had been playing tug of war with. It was an old one that Cara had given them weeks ago. Deborah had washed it, and Lori had removed it from the line. Cara picked up the other pieces, realizing those belonged to Better Days too.
She turned to her daughter. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Lori broke into tears and ran into the house.
Cara eased into a nearby lawn chair. God, help me. I’m so angry I can’t stand myself or enjoy my daughter or think clearly.
A few minutes later Deborah eased out the back door and sat in a lawn chair next to Cara. She put her hand gently over Cara’s, reminding Cara of the months she’d spent comforting Deborah after her fiancé dumped her and ran off. Deborah had struggled for a long time, but in the end she was glad to be free of him and had slowly fallen in love again—this time with a man worthy of her.
“What am I going to do?” Cara asked.
“Maybe you need to talk to your dad.”
“His name is Trevor. Please don’t refer to him as anything else.”
Ada stepped outside, holding Lori’s hand. “It’s time for all little girls to get a bath, but I think she needs to see you first.”
Cara opened her arms. Lori ran to her, climbed into her lap, and snuggled.
After brushing wisps of hair off her daughter’s forehead, Cara kissed it. “I’m sorry, Lori.”
“What’s wrong, Mama?”
“I think I ate Oscar the Grouch.”
Lori’s brown eyes stared up at her, but she didn’t smile. “I can’t remember you ever yelling before. You wag your finger sometimes or count to five, but you don’t yell.”
Cara had never seen any benefit to yelling. Besides, Lori wasn’t the kind of child who required a raised voice in order to listen. But after facing off with Trevor, Cara couldn’t imagine taming the beast she’d freed from its cage. Even as she held her daughter, she felt enough pent-up hostility to rip something apart.
She pulled Lori close. “I love you, Lorabean. And moms yell sometimes, just like you get sassy once in a while. It doesn’t mean you don’t love me, does it?”
“No way!”
Squeezing Lori tight, Cara kissed all over her face and neck until her daughter giggled wildly. “Go on inside with Ada. I need to talk to Deborah.”
Lori hugged Deborah good night and skipped up the back steps with Better Days ahead of her. “Ada, you gonna tuck me in and read to me tonight?”
“I’d like that. What are we reading?”
“You mean you don’t know?”
Their voices faded as they went deeper into the house.
Cara searched for a way to explain to Deborah the depth of her rage but came up empty. “No one’s supposed to join the faith harboring obvious unforgiveness. And this isn’t going to fade away.”
Deborah played with one string of her prayer Kapp. “I thought you were ready to deal with seeing him.”
“Yeah, I thought so too. Until he showed up. Why should we have to forgive people for doing wrong if they’d do the same thing again if given the chance? If the church leaders learn about our situation and believe I should treat Trevor with respect and forgiveness, it’ll cause nothing but trouble for me and Ephraim. It’ll look like I’m the problem, but I’m the one trying, and I wasn’t doing bad until Trevor stepped in.”
“I know you’re trying, and so do they.”
“God revealed Himself to me when I didn’t believe in Him at all. If He saved me in this condition, why can’t I stay the way I am?”
“Is that what you want—to stay like you are right now?”
Cara moaned. “Oh, dear God, no.” She rose from her chair and stared into the evening sky. Was He listening to her right now? “You don’t understand.”
“You’re right. I don’t, and I won’t pretend to. But you do.”
Cara turned. “Wha
t does that mean?”
“You understand the emotions stirred in you and whether you want to embrace them as gifts from God or refuse them because they’re not something you want.”
“I don’t get that choice, Deb. Can’t you see? They’re already inside me—days and weeks and months and years and decades of anger and heartbreak! And I was able to box that up and tuck it away until the source showed up on the front porch.”
“But he’s here now. And the box has been taken out of its hiding place.”
“Your patience and insight are really annoying, you know.”
Deborah smiled. “I’m trying my best not to be. Does that count?”
Cara plunked down in her chair, sighing. More than anything she longed to be perfect for Ephraim, but so many obstacles stood in her way. “Can you imagine what he’ll think?”
“Who?”
“Your brother. He’s such an upstanding member in the church, and he’s engaged to me, a holy terror.”
Deborah chuckled. “And if you hadn’t returned, he’d be single his whole life, dating different women, searching for his one true mate who never showed up.”
Cara squeezed her eyes shut, a storm of anxiety raging through her. Forgiving Trevor wasn’t possible. But letting Ephraim know of her weakness and anger was.
“Think he’s still in his shop?”
“Probably. If not, with all the windows open, he can hear the office phone ring from inside his house.”
Cara stood. “You know, for an annoyingly patient person, you can be pretty helpful.”
“I’m just glad you didn’t get mad at me.” Deborah raised an eyebrow, teasing her.
Cara took a deep breath. It was just Tuesday, and Ephraim usually visited only on the weekends, but she longed to see him. Maybe he’d hire Robbie to bring him to Hope Crossing tonight.
Ten
Darkness surrounded Sylvia as she slid into a pair of pants and a shirt. She breathed in the early morning air, trying to ignore the concern that weighed on her. The possibility of Michael losing or selling the farm felt like another personal failure.
After putting on her shoes and prayer Kapp, she left the cabin and walked the narrow path toward the main driveway. Only a few stars peeked through the summer haze, and the waning moon gave very little light. A few cows were moseying toward the barn and mooing softly. Before she had the milking parlor ready, the herd would be bellowing at her, ready to be let in, fed, and milked.
The Harvest of Grace Page 9