by Sarah Price
“Danke, Salome.”
The older woman turned her attention toward the children, her focus on Cris Junior more than Walter. “Oh, child,” she said softly, bending down a bit and placing her hands on his cheeks and turning his face from side to side.
“You must lie down, Cris. Kum, kum,” she commanded, shepherding him to the sofa against the far wall of the kitchen. Clicking her tongue, a sound of disapproval, she shook her head as she plumped a pillow before slipping it underneath his head. “Poor lamb.”
“He’s feeling much better,” Anna offered.
“Why, I’m sure of it!” Salome brushed Cris’s hair from his forehead. “Under your care, I have no doubt that he is well-attended.”
The compliment itself masked a far greater criticism. Anna didn’t dare to comment on it.
“Why, these poor kinner come here, starving for attention as well as sweets!” She bustled over to the kitchen counter where a large, white container sat. “Speaking of which, I have cookies here and I sure wonder if anyone would like one or two.”
Walter ran to her side, eager for the freshly baked cookies, while Cris merely raised his hand, too weak (or too comfortable, Anna suspected) to sit up.
“Really, Anna,” Salome said, her voice kindly but firm. “You must speak with your schwester. These kinner. . . ” She gave her typical disapproving tsk, tsk as she shook her head. “A little attention from her once in a while would go a long way to help them, especially when they are feeling poorly.”
“I want to see the chickens!” Walter cried out, tugging at Anna’s hand.
“Now, now, Walter,” Salome responded before Anna could say a word. “I have to go out there and fetch their eggs. Shall we go together then?” She stood up and smoothed down the black apron that covered the front of her dress. “I’ll even let you carry the basket.”
Anna tried to hide a smile. Little things like carrying a basket or collecting eggs from the chicken coop meant a lot to Walter. His mother, who tended to worry about everything, told him he was too young to take on those responsibilities. She had just cause, for Walter was very rambunctious and became excited quite easily. In those moments, he was prone to dropping things or not doing a chore particularly well. While such little mishaps didn’t bother Anna or Salome, Mary preferred to avoid taking chances.
Grandmother and grandson walked to the door, Walter’s legs moving faster than Salome’s as he tried to beat her to the door without looking too anxious. After all, collecting and carrying the eggs was a task for mature boys.
When the door shut behind the two of them, Anna turned toward Cris Junior. “You poor child,” she said. “I’m sorry you must stay inside on such a nice day. But another day of rest will clear up this illness, for sure and certain.”
“You reckon, Aendi?”
She sat beside him on the sofa and gently patted his arm. “Ja, I sure do. God heals all and I’ve been praying for Him to heal you.”
“Danke,” he replied softly, a hint of a smile on his lips.
“And I am not the only one praying for you to recover,” she continued, her voice soft and soothing. “Your maem and daed, your other aendis, your grossmammi and grossdawdi. . . ”
“All those people?”
Anna laughed. “Oh, ja, Cris. All of those people are praying for you.”
A look of self-importance crossed his face, and Anna decided to let him have that moment. After all, it wasn’t often when the kinner were truly the center of attention, at least not from what she had seen. While pride was frowned upon, a little shot of confidence certainly couldn’t hurt a child, especially one like Cris.
After a moment, she sighed and brushed her finger over his cheek. He was still pale and his skin felt dewy. “You should rest a spell now,” she said.
“Will you sit with me?”
“Of course. If that’s what would please you.”
Not five minutes passed before his breathing slowed and his eyes closed, a light sleep overtaking him. Anna watched his chest rise and fall, wondering at the miracle of life that her sister, Mary, had been so blessed to witness yet so unwilling to enjoy. Loving the two children, even Walter with his energetic ways, came naturally to Anna.
“Excuse me,” a deep voice said from the doorway.
Startled, Anna jumped just enough to display her surprise at seeing Freman standing at the entrance to the kitchen. With no way to avoid his presence, she lowered her eyes for a moment, too flustered by the unexpected appearance of the only person she did not particularly wish to encounter.
He too appeared uneasy and stepped no further into the kitchen. “I thought I might find the Musser schwesters here.” He hesitated, that momentary pause speaking more than any words might convey about what he was thinking. He turned his body to such an angle that he could look out the door and she could not see his expression. “I . . . I mentioned I would stop by today to visit.”
“I haven’t seen them this morning,” Anna admitted, surprised at the steadiness of her voice. “But I’m sure they must be around somewhere if they were expecting you.”
He cleared his throat, glancing, just once, over his shoulder to look at her. His eyes drifted to Cris Junior, still napping on the sofa. “I do hope the boy is feeling better.”
Anna glanced down at Cris, knowing full well that, had Cris not asked her to sit with him, she would have found an excuse to remove herself from Freman’s presence. Just being near Freman sent her heart into conflicting waves of emotion. Not knowing how to respond, or, perhaps, not truly wanting to engage in conversation with him, Anna remained silent. The room, however, did not; for Walter raced into the room, slipping by Freman and running over to where Anna sat next to his older brother.
“Don’t tease him, Walter,” Anna scolded, a quiet gentleness in her tone. “He needs his rest.”
Rather than leave the sofa, Walter grabbed at Anna’s apron and startled climbing onto her lap. He laughed and tried to reach over to poke his brother in the stomach.
“Walter, you are being very naughty,” she said, her voice a little firmer. “And after your grossmammi let you collect the eggs! I dare say she won’t let you do that tomorrow if you keep behaving like this.”
At this comment, rather than retreat, Walter slipped around her back so that she couldn’t reach him with her hands unless she turned around which, certainly, would have disturbed Cris’s nap. Already Cris Junior was stirring, his brother’s laughter and bouncing on the sofa having interrupted his sleep. With great mischief in his giggles, Walter clung to her neck and leaned against her back. Though small, he was heavy enough to knock her forward, and she caught herself on the arm of the sofa.
Just as Anna was ready to scold Walter one last time, she was surprised to feel him suddenly removed from her back. It took her a moment to realize that Freman had plucked the spunky two-year-old from her person and promptly set him down upon the ground. Anna was just about to express her gratitude, as well as her embarrassment that Walter had so misbehaved, when she realized that Freman did not wish to hear such words from her. He focused on the young child, instead, distracting him by swooping him into his arms and whirling him in the air. Walter giggled and forgot about Anna, his jo
y at having someone’s attention, even a stranger’s, suddenly much more attractive than fighting for hers.
The kindness that Freman displayed by removing the rowdy child conflicted with his apparent evasion of further interaction with her. The incident left her speechless and agitated to the point of complete silence. Mercifully, the door opened again moments later, this time producing Salome with Leah and Hannah in tow. Her mind was in such turmoil that Anna could not stay to watch the interactions, so joyous and hopeful on the part of the two young women. Instead, she quietly excused herself and slipped out the side door, needing time to reflect on what had just happened and how one small act of kindness had sent her into a tailspin of shame.
Chapter Six
IN THE NEXT few days, the frequency with which Freman visited the Mussers’ farm quickly dispelled any of Anna’s hopes that she might be able to avoid his company. With Salome inviting Anna to visit, or her nephews pulling her next door, Anna could not escape hearing Freman’s voice as he chatted with Leah or Hannah. Each day, he brought along goodies from the general store: pickled mushrooms, a shoofly pie, or farmer’s cheese. One day he even added some fresh-cut flowers, careful to offer them to Salome for fear that his intentions could be misconstrued by giving them to any other potential recipient.
From what she learned from Mary, who was only too happy to share the latest news with her husband and sister after the two boys went to bed Saturday evening, Freman had returned to the area with one, and only one, intention: to find a wife.
“Clearly we shall have a wedding to attend this season!” Mary gushed. “We should start cleaning the flower beds and make certain to remove the dying petunias. They never did get very bushy.”
Cris sat at the head of the table with the two women on either side, a coffee cup by his one hand and a small bowl of popcorn by the other. He was reading The Budget, the weekly newspaper to which most Amish households subscribed; it was his only deviation from reading the Bible. “Ja, I hear you, Mary,” he said as he reached for a handful of popcorn. “This is wunderbarr popcorn!” He glanced up, looking first at Mary and then at Anna, one eyebrow lifted in an inquisitive kind of way.
“Brewer’s yeast,” Anna said softly. “I added brewer’s yeast to the salt seasoning.”
Despite having initiated the conversation, Mary showed no interest in discussing popcorn. Instead she continued rattling off her list of tasks that needed attention for the upcoming wedding, a wedding she had already scheduling in her mind. “And the front door should be painted, Cris. It took such a beating from the sun and the heat this summer . . . ” She waved her hand in the air. “Dreadful. With a wedding at your maem’s, we can’t have tongues wagging that we don’t care for our haus!”
“A wedding? You’re putting the buggy before the horse, my fraa,” Cris said lightly.
Mary huffed at the slight. “Why, I think I know enough to recognize when a man is interested in a woman! And your sisters . . . why, one of them would be a right gut companion for Freman!” She turned to Anna, unaware of the pain she had just inflicted on her own sister. “I heard he has a lovely business in Indiana. A carpentry store that makes sheds. He has a whole staff of people,” Mary said. “That’s why he can visit for so long, you see. He’s become quite successful.”
“I see” was the only reply that Anna could muster.
While Mary continued rambling on with various bits and pieces of gossip that she had picked up, Anna retreated within herself. She remembered that Freman had an affinity for carpentry. It was one of the very reasons why Lydia Rothberger had expressed concern for his interest in Anna. Carpentry was not a very successful business for an Amish man, according to Lydia. And after all, Freman did not come from a family that specialized in working with wood. There was no business to pass from father to son. And, even more important, Holmes County was overrun with carpenters, and many of them were out of work.
To Anna, it didn’t matter whether or not Freman was successful; at least, not in the way that Mary talked about. Instead Anna felt her heart swell with joy that, despite the doubt that so many people had expressed in him, Freman was following his dream. No one had been able to persuade him otherwise.
If only I had been as brave, she pondered.
She looked up, startled at the harshness of Mary’s voice.
“I said could you answer the door! Someone is knocking.” She frowned and stared back into her coffee cup. “Would you have them wait, then?”
If Anna wanted to ask why Mary hadn’t answered the door herself, she made no such inquiry. Instead, she quickly stood up and hurried to the door, surprised to see Leah and Hannah standing there with smiles on their faces.
“The sun is setting, Anna, just over the field,” Hannah said. “We’re going to go walk to see it. It’s the perfect night!”
“Come with us!” Leah urged.
From the kitchen came the sound of a chair’s legs scraping against the floor. Before Anna could respond to the invitation, Mary stood behind her and peered over her shoulder.
“A walk? Why, I’d like to go on a walk! I’ve been cooped up all day, haven’t I, Anna?”
Leah’s expression of joy quickly changed to one that was more serious. “It’s a long walk to the top of the hill, Mary.”
“Long and steep,” Hannah added.
Mary clicked her tongue and reached for her sweater that hung on the wall. “Well,” she huffed. “I don’t think that should stop me at all!”
Gratefully, only Anna saw the look exchanged between Leah and Hannah. Over the past few days, Anna had heard more of her share from both parties in regards to what they truly thought of the other. For Mary, she focused on how often her husband’s family slighted her or didn’t include her in certain events or outings. For Leah and Hannah, they expressed how comfortable they were around Anna and lamented the fact that it was not she who had accepted their brother’s offer of marriage.
To all of this, Anna remained silent, knowing that there was nothing she could add to either conversation that would be remotely useful.
By the time Mary had fetched her shawl, for she claimed fear of catching a chill, Cris too stood outside and waited with Leah and Hannah. Anna glanced up toward the second-story windows, silently wondering about leaving both kinner alone in the house. Seeing the concerned look on her sister’s face, Mary scoffed and waved her hand dismissively.
“Oh, Anna! They are both sound asleep. We won’t be gone more than . . . what? . . . thirty minutes?” She gave a small laugh. “A nice walk will do us all good, ja?”
Behind her, Leah and Hannah looked at each other, a gentle lifting of their eyebrows saying more than words could express about their thoughts of Mary’s behavior. Cris, however, sighed and shook his head. “I best catch up with you women,” he said as he started walking toward the house. “I’ll fetch Mother to keep an eye on the kinner, then.”
Mary gave a short, exasperated sigh and started walking in the opposite direction, leaving the other three women behind as she mumbled about Cris worrying so much about sleeping children. Lowering her head, Anna fell into step behind her sister, embarrassed both by the clear disregard felt by Mary for her own children and by her sisters-in-laws’ clear disdain for Mary.
The four women walked down the lan
e, the sun curving in the sky as it dipped toward the hill behind the back fields. True to Leah’s words, the incline of the hill was steep. Additionally, the dew upon the grass darkened the hem of her dress. The air, however, remained cool.
Leah and Hannah ran ahead, laughing as they ascended the hill. Anna walked slower, more out of kindness to Mary, who struggled along the forged path.
“My word,” she complained, slipping once on the grass. “Is there not any other place to see that sun set? And where is that husband of mine?” She reached for Anna’s extended hand and righted herself. “You’d think he’d be here to assist me!”
“He’s coming now,” Anna said as she glanced over her sister’s shoulder. “And with someone else too, it looks like!” She squinted as she tried to see who accompanied him. “Mayhaps it’s Raymond?”
Mary straightened her dress and looked in the direction of her husband. “Nee,” she said. “He’s too tall to be Raymond.” After a brief hesitation, Mary smiled. “Why, that’s Freman Whittmore!” She laughed and clapped her hands together once. “I bet he’s come calling for Hannah!”
The words tore through Anna and she looked away, ashamed at the way her heart pounded and her palms sweated. You had your chance, she told herself. And you threw it away to please others. She knew that she had no right to deny happiness to either Leah or Hannah. If Freman was intent on marrying one of the Mussers’ daughters, Anna would express her joy and happiness for that union in public, even if she cried in the solitude of her own room.
As Cris and Freman approached, Mary began waving, a wide smile on her face. Anna wondered at her sister’s overt jubilation at Freman’s presence, especially given her less-than-gleeful mood just moments prior.
“What a wunderbarr gut surprise, Freman!”
He nodded his head in her direction, his eyes briefly meeting Anna’s before he looked toward the top of the hill. Seeing Leah and Hannah waving at him, he lifted his hand in response before returning his attention to the two women standing before him. “A lovely sunset indeed,” he said, his voice flat and emotionless.