by Beth Wiseman
She handed him a cup. “The horse isn’t going to be trained in time, is he?”
“I wish you would let me talk with the bishop. The widows’ fund is intended to—”
“Nee.” She shook her head.
“I know you’ve given to that fund.”
“Sure, we’ve all added to the offering. But that doesn’t mean I’m entitled to draw from it.”
He groaned under his breath. “You are a widow.”
Her eyes welled with tears. She set her cup on the table and fled the room.
“Rosa!” He followed her to the foot of the stairway. “You’re nett thinking straight. You haven’t slept in days.”
She ran up the steps and into her bedroom and slammed the door. Dropping onto the mattress, she buried her face in her pillow.
Adam tapped on the door. “Can we talk?”
“Later.” What was there to talk about? She wasn’t going to ask for money without having a way to repay the fund. This mess was created while her husband was alive. He should have told her he didn’t pay the back taxes. He had to have known the county would auction the farm.
She punched the pillow. Why did Uriah die and leave me in this jam?
But no answer came. Only the sound of Adam’s footsteps retreating down the stairs.
Chapter Twelve
Adam spent a restless night petitioning God on Rosa’s behalf. He climbed out of bed in the morning not sure what he would say to Rosa’s neighbor to change the man’s outlandish payment demands but believing God would provide the right words.
Adam crossed the neighbor’s property line just as Wade pulled up in his pickup truck. He waited while the man shut off the engine and opened the door.
“Can I talk with you a minute?” Adam said.
The man got out of the truck and turned to face Adam. “Who are you?”
“I’m Adam Bontrager. I live on the other side of Rosa Hostetler. I wanted to talk with you about your dog.”
He smiled. “Nice of you to ask about him. He’ll probably be in the cast a few more weeks, but—”
“I’m more concerned about Rosa’s chickens. Your dog killed several and traumatized the others.”
Tate narrowed his eyes. “Now that she’s put up a fence around her coop, it’s no longer an issue.”
“I hope that’s true.” Adam shifted his feet. “Rosa is a widow. She sells eggs to make a living, and because of everything that’s gone on recently, her chickens have stopped producing.”
The man stared without blinking.
“I heard you’ve asked her to pay the vet bill.” He continued without giving Tate time to acknowledge. “I don’t believe it’s her responsibility. If you had kept your dog on your property, he wouldn’t have killed her chickens, and he wouldn’t have been injured. She’s not a cruel person.”
“She admitted to shooting my dog.”
“The gun went off accidently. But your dog was on her property attacking her chickens.” To his credit, Tate Wade didn’t try to deny or rationalize this. Adam figured he’d better get the rest of it in while he had the chance. “As a widow, she needs to keep her expenses to a bare minimum. She doesn’t have money to pay vet bills, especially since she hasn’t had any eggs to sell.”
Tate reached for the doorknob. “I’ll be back in just a minute.” He disappeared inside his house and a moment later stepped back outside. “She already settled the vet costs.” He handed Adam an empty, gallon-size pickle jar. “She told me to keep the jar, but I don’t need it.”
He stepped back into the house and shut the door in Adam’s face.
Adam’s mind reeled. I don’t understand, God. I thought You sent me to talk with him. He plodded back across the field clutching the empty jar. I thought You would have prepared his heart to see reasonably. Was that only wishful thinking?
He reached Rosa’s steps, drew a deep breath, and knocked.
The door opened. “Guder mariye,” she said.
“Is it really?” He brushed past her and went into the kitchen. Setting the empty jar on the counter, he turned to her. “We need to talk.”
“Where did you get that?”
Adam ignored her question. He opened the drawer where she kept her records, removed the logbook, and flipped it open. A quick scan to the bottom entry on the page explained everything. She was broke.
Rosa snatched the book from his hand. “This isn’t your business.” She jammed the book back into the drawer and slammed it closed. “I didn’t designate you as my keeper.”
“Nee, but Uriah did.”
She glared at him.
“Rosa, why didn’t you talk to me—to anyone—before paying him a dime?”
“I didn’t know any other way to make amends.” She began to sniffle, and he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and gave it to her. She blew her nose and wadded the handkerchief up in her hand. “I didn’t want to disappoint God by being bitter and angry, and I was. I was so upset with Tate Wade that I couldn’t sleep.”
Adam sighed. “I should have talked with him earlier. I could’ve made some sort of arrangement with him.”
“Adam,” she said softly. “I’m all right with mei decision.”
“Well, I’m not.”
“I sent a note to mei aenti in Ohio about living with her.”
He couldn’t bear the thought of her moving so far away. “Rosa, let me talk with the bishop. This can all be taken—”
“I’ve decided to butcher the hens. If they’re not going to lay eggs, I might as well.” She headed to the door, darted outside, and marched toward the shed.
Her stubbornness had stretched his patience thin. Adam trailed her to the woodshed and stopped her as she grabbed the ax. “Why are you doing this?”
“I told you they’re nett laying eggs. I won’t be able to take them with me to Ohio . . . and people are hungry. Earlier I took some canned goods over to one of mei Englisch egg customers whose husband is out of work, and she really appreciated the food.” She paused. “Helping others is the right thing to do, and these chickens will go a long way.”
Adam swallowed back tears. In the midst of all her struggles, she was thinking of ways to help other people. Lord, he thought, I don’t want her to move to Ohio. Isn’t there a way?
“Let me do it.” He reached for the ax. “You can get the water boiling.”
Rosa added a pinch of salt to the pot of water simmering on the stove. She was adding wood to the stove when the back door opened and Adam called, “Rosa, kumm quick.”
She wiped her hands on her apron and rushed to the door.
“You have to see this.” He took hold of her elbow and guided her outside.
The gusty wind made her shiver. She wanted to double back for her winter bonnet and cloak, but his eagerness piqued her interest. “What’s this all about?”
Adam unhooked the fence around the henhouse. “They’re laying again.”
She followed him into the coop. Adam pointed first to one nesting box, then another, and another. She’d never seen so many eggs. “It’s a miracle!” She spun around and flung herself into Adam’s arms.
Stirred up by the commotion, the chickens flapped and clucked around them. His eyes bored into hers and he leaned closer.
She pulled away just before his lips touched hers. “I should get a basket.” She ran to the house, her heart hammering.
When she returned, he gently lowered the ones he had collected into the basket. Rosa focused on gathering eggs from another nesting box. The basket quickly filled, almost overflowing.
“I’ve never had this many eggs,” she said as they entered the house.
“A miracle like you said, ya?”
She smiled. “Ya, so it is.”
Rosa set the basket on the counter next to the sink. “Once I get these washed, I’m going to make mei deliveries.” She chuckled. “Won’t they be surprised to see me so late in the afternoon?”
“Do you want me to drive you?”
Unbidden
, an image rose up in her mind—Adam leaning toward her in the coop with those piercing eyes. But his mother made it clear she disapproved of Rosa. She didn’t want to upset Eunice more.
“Nee.” An expression of utter disappointment filled his face, and she tried to explain without using his mother’s name. “Danki for the offer, but I don’t know what people would say.”
He motioned to the door. “It stopped raining. I think I’ll work with Flapjack.”
She laid a hand on his arm to stop him from turning away. “Adam,” she said, “I don’t normally . . .” She lowered her head. “I’ve never thrown myself into a man’s arms like that before.”
“Maybe that’s another miracle,” he said.
Chapter Thirteen
Adam coaxed the gelding around the ring one more time, but his heart wasn’t into training today. He’d kept a safe distance from Rosa since she pitched herself into his arms and then gave him a gibberish apology for her impulsive behavior. He’d been just as excited to see eggs in the nesting boxes. It meant God had answered his prayer—one part. He was still praying for someone to buy Flapjack.
If he hadn’t tried to kiss her yesterday, maybe he wouldn’t feel so awkward today. It was plain that she didn’t share the same feelings for him. He needed to accept that they would only be friends.
Rosa left the henhouse toting two baskets and a wide smile. The count must be even higher today.
Danki, God, for providing another abundance of eggs. Please show me how I can help her. She’s going to need more customers.
Rosa hoisted the oversized egg basket into the buggy seat and climbed in beside it. “Lord, You provided the eggs,” she murmured, “nau please provide the buyers.”
The blue sky was a welcoming sight. So was seeing Adam in the corral working with Flapjack. She shot him a quick wave, but he was preoccupied with the horse and didn’t see her.
Byler’s Bakery was first on the list. Becky was busy sorting pastries at the back counter when Rosa entered. She swiped her hands on the front of her apron and stepped to the register.
“What can I help you with, Rosa?”
“Mei chickens surprised me with an overabundance again today. I was hoping the bakery could use more.”
Becky peered into the basket. “Wow, that is a lot.” She smiled. “I’ve been wanting to try some new recipes. I suppose we could use another dozen or two.” Becky disappeared into the kitchen area and returned with a container.
“I really appreciate you helping me out.” Rosa counted out two dozen. Her basket was still full. “So what new recipes are you planning to try?”
“I have one for an apple turnover, and I need to use up the pumpkins from the garden, so I thought I would make some muffins.”
“Sounds delicious. Let me know how they turn out.” Rosa didn’t have as much success selling to her other customers. She landed at Hope’s house with more than half her basket unsold.
“I’ll buy a dozen,” Hope offered after hearing Rosa’s dilemma.
“You raise your own eggs. You don’t need to buy mine.” Rosa plopped down on her friend’s kitchen chair. “But I suppose I am desperate to sell them.”
Hope poured two mugs of kaffi and set them on the table. “That’s exactly what Adam said last nacht when he stopped over to talk with Stephen about buying his gelding.”
“He did?” Rosa toned down her excitement when Hope’s brow arched. “He’s a gut trainer.”
“And . . .”
“And Flapjack will make a fine buggy horse.”
“You have feelings for Adam, don’t you?”
Rosa’s cheeks warmed and she shifted on her chair.
“You can’t hide it from me.” Hope reached across the table and patted Rosa’s hand. “I’m glad you’re ready to move forward.”
If she didn’t find a way to pay her taxes in the next few days, Rosa would be moving, all right. But she didn’t exactly consider Ohio as moving forward.
Hope smiled. “He gave you the chicks and put up a fence around your coop.”
“Adam has . . . become a gut friend since Uriah died. It was hard at first, but through prayer, God helped me put aside mei anger about the fire. I don’t blame Adam for Uriah’s death. But I don’t see us as more than friends either.”
“Uriah would want you to be happy. And from what I’ve heard, you and Adam have spent a lot of time training that horse together.”
“Did Adam say something about us working together?” About my taxes?
Hope shrugged. “If you started attending the sewing frolics, they would talk about someone else. Probably Becky Byler. You know how every woman in the settlement has something to say about her size.”
Rosa wanted to ask if the sewing circle gossip was Eunice, but she resisted. Instead, she asked about Becky. “Do you think that might be why she’s withdrawn?”
“I’ve been praying for her to feel accepted.”
Rosa nodded. “I find it’s easier to pray than to risk giving the wrong advice. I think she’s tried every diet, and working around all those sweets must be difficult.”
Hope wouldn’t be distracted. “It’s difficult for you to accept you’re falling in love again, isn’t it?”
“It wouldn’t work. I can’t have children. I already lived through seeing the disappointment in Uriah’s eyes every time I miscarried. I couldn’t bear it again.”
Faith’s cry rang out from the other room and pulled Hope’s attention away. Just as well. The inability to have children was the least of Rosa’s worries. She needed to sell eggs and find a way to pay her taxes, and that was as far into the future as she was willing to go.
“I better get moving.” Rosa reached into her basket and removed a dozen eggs. “If you hear of anyone who needs eggs, please send them over.”
Adam met Rosa outside the henhouse and helped her carry the eggs into the house.
“Have you ever seen so many eggs from so few chickens? It takes two of us to carry them all.” Rosa beamed. “What am I going to do with them all? I practically had to beg everyone to buy extra yesterday.”
“God answers prayers, all right,” Adam said. “And He never gives us more than we can eat.” He grinned. “I like egg salad sandwiches.”
“I’m serious. What am I going to do with all of these?”
He set the basket on the table. “Let’s get this straight. You pray for a miracle, get it, and then question what you’re going to do with it? Do you think God made a mistake? Or maybe He forgot to tell the chickens they could stop laying eggs?”
She bowed her head sheepishly.
“Remember how God brought quail to the Israelites? So much quail it came out of their nostrils. This was after they complained of only having manna to eat.”
“I complain too much, don’t I?”
“Nee.” He winked, then held up his index finger and said, “I’ll be right back.” He jogged out to the barn and grabbed the Eggs For Sale board he had painted earlier.
Rosa’s eyes lit up. “What a great idea. But we don’t live on a busy road. Do you think I’ll get many customers?”
“I think the only reason the chickens laid so many eggs is because God has buyers already lined up. You’ll see.” He tapped the board. “I’ll get this put up.”
Adam carried the sign out to the mailbox, and even before he finished nailing it to the post, a vehicle entered Rosa’s driveway. As that car pulled out, another one pulled in.
Rosa should be pleased. For a road without much traffic, God seemed to be sending people to buy her eggs.
Adam had another idea for increasing the sales, but it involved his mother. He hiked home while Rosa was busy with customers.
“If you’re hungry there is stew to warm up,” Mamm said as he entered the kitchen.
“Okay, maybe later. Rosa’s chickens laid a bunch more eggs today.”
“That’s gut. I know for a while they haven’t been laying anything.”
“I was hoping you could spread
the word that she needs to sell them.” He paused, debating how much to tell her without breaking his vow to Rosa. “Maybe the women in your group will buy them this week.”
Mamm studied him silently for a moment. “Is she hurting for money?”
He looked down at his boots. Maybe saying something wasn’t a good idea. “Like everyone, she has expenses. She’s always been so gut about giving eggs to the widows . . .” He shrugged. “She’s also a widow and not with much income.”
“I know how it is, sohn.”
“But don’t most of the widows have adult kinner who help pay expenses? Rosa has no one.”
Mamm sighed. “Ya, it’s a shame.” Her brows rose. “I’ll suggest a bake sale. That will give everyone a reason to buy plenty of eggs.”
Adam hoped he wouldn’t regret getting his mother involved.
Chapter Fourteen
Rosa’s customer list grew daily—and so did the number of eggs her chickens laid. Since Adam put up the road sign, she had sold out every day before noon. Days away from the tax deadline, she’d begun to believe Adam was right. God would provide the tax money.
Rosa carried a quart of water out to the training ring for Adam. She perched on the fence rail as Adam removed his coat and draped it over the horse’s head.
“He needs to trust me completely,” Adam said. He boarded the buggy and clicked his tongue, but Flapjack hesitated. With some verbal coaxing from Adam, the horse lurched forward. They made one complete circle before the horse’s gait smoothed out. Several starts, stops, and turning repetitions later, Adam halted the buggy. He kept the head covering in place, tied Flapjack to the post, then strode over to the fence.
“I thought you could use some water.” She handed him the quart jar.
“Danki.” He leaned against the fence and took a drink.
“Why did you cover Flapjack’s head?”
“Blind trust,” he said. “It trains him to listen to his master’s call.” He took another drink, then handed her the empty jar. “Like God wants us to trust Him.”
“So I’ve discovered.”
“Have you counted your money again?”