But she couldn’t be ungrateful. The Schmuckers were relatives, very distant cousins on her dat’s side, and Barbara Schmucker hadn’t wanted to let her stay at all. Wally had been very kind to find a place for her to sleep, even though she had shown up uninvited at their house on Saturday evening. Barbara had insisted that Fern could only stay for a few days, but after seeing Reuben yesterday at gmay, it was obvious that a few days would not be enough. She didn’t hold out much hope that Barbara would understand, but perhaps Fern could convince Wally that she wouldn’t be any sort of bother.
She didn’t intend to give up on Reuben Helmuth, no matter how hard he tried to push her away. He was like a brother to her. She’d do anything to help. If worse came to worst, she would find a place to camp. It was nearly warm enough to sleep outside if she had to.
Fern was nothing if not persistent. Reuben Helmuth should have already figured that out by now. And she wasn’t going to stop pestering him until he snapped out of his whiny, woe-is-me mood. He was wearing his self-pity like a badge, and Fern couldn’t allow that.
The bike squealed its way up the hill. If Fern had been at home, Mamm would have stuck her head out the front door for fear the pigs had gotten into the yard.
She reached the crest of the hill, and Reuben’s grandparents’ house came into view. Delicate purple crocuses peeked up from the grass, and with a few more warm days, the daffodils would be blooming in the flower beds.
The barn door opened, and Reuben emerged carrying a bulging burlap bag over his shoulder. With bowed head, he trudged toward the house and didn’t see Fern until she cleared her throat and spoke. “Gute maiya, Reuben.”
He stopped short, as if he’d run headlong into a brick wall, and stared at Fern like an unwelcome surprise. Fern grinned and shrugged. She was an unwelcome surprise. Reuben was a big boy. A little discomfort would do him some good.
“What are you doing here?” Could he possibly have sounded more hostile?
It really irritated him when she smiled, but she couldn’t help it. Reuben looked as forlorn as a lost puppy dog—cute and adorable and in need of a hug—and she was so glad to see him and so eager to help him be happy again. “I came to scold you into a gute mood.”
“My mood is none of your business.”
“But you’re so fun,” Fern said in her best little sister whine. “You’re the one everybody wants to be around because something exciting happens whenever you’re there. You are always laughing and joking, making even the worst days better.”
“Until three months ago,” Reuben said. “Then your brother humiliated me, and everybody is laughing at me. You don’t know anything about how I’m feeling.”
Fern gave him a patient smile. “Okay. You’re right. I don’t know. But I do know that if you could forgive John and Linda Sue, you’d be happier, and you’d be able to come home.”
“If I forgive John, it would be like admitting he was right when he wasn’t.”
The bike screamed in protest as Fern pushed it to the sidewalk and lowered the kickstand. The blood dripping from her ankle must have caught his eye. He glanced down at her foot and quickly looked away. Scooting the burlap bag more securely onto his shoulder, he started back toward the barn. “Please leave me alone.”
She would have chased him all over Huckleberry Hill, but her ankle needed to be tended or she’d leave a blood trail that would probably attract a wild and ferocious animal. Were snakes attracted to blood? She didn’t really want to find out.
The bleeding had mostly stopped, but the cut looked quite ghastly. Would Anna Helmuth object to blood on her floor? Fern didn’t know much about Reuben’s grandparents except what she’d heard from Reuben. He had told her that his mammi was the best cook in the world and that his dawdi could make up songs like a writer. They seemed like people who wouldn’t mind giving a Band-Aid to a passing stranger.
Besides, Reuben was going to need plenty of persuasion. It wouldn’t hurt to enlist the grandparents’ help. Reuben was living with them. He couldn’t shut them out the way he did Fern.
She limped up the porch steps, tilting her foot so she wouldn’t get blood on the stairs, and knocked on the door. She heard a bright, chipper voice inside. “Cum reu.”
Fern opened the door and poked her head into the room. The kitchen and family room were one big space, with a nicely lumpy sofa sitting in the great room, a massive recliner to its left, and a rocking chair across from it. An ample wooden table stood immediately to her right, and a counter with a sink jutted out from the wall. A ball of white fur slept on the rag rug next to the sofa. A dog. Gute. Fern loved dogs. Anyone who owned a dog couldn’t be half bad.
“I’m sorry to bother you,” Fern said, keeping her feet securely planted on the porch. She didn’t want to track blood into the house.
Reuben’s mammi stood behind the counter at the stove with her hands clasped around the handle of an enormous pot. From the door, Fern could see the big rolling bubbles of water threatening to escape the pot. Something in there must have been boiling wonderful hot. Fern felt hollow inside just imagining what must be in that pot. She hadn’t had dinner last night. Or breakfast this morning.
Anna Helmuth looked up and smiled as if Fern were her favorite person in the whole world. “Well, hello, dear. Do you think you could help me?” She had her oven mitts around the handles of the pot, attempting to lift it from the stove, but it looked like it weighed almost as much as Anna did.
Fern nearly barreled into the house before stopping herself. “My ankle got cut. I’m dripping a little blood.”
“Plenty of people have bled on this floor,” Anna said, grunting and straining to lift the pot. “I’m not persnickety about a little blood. I’ve got to get this off the stove before the oysters overcook.”
Not sure if she should be alarmed that plenty of people had bled on Anna’s floor, Fern rushed into the kitchen, snatched a towel from the cupboard, and wrapped it around the lip of the pot. Anna gripped the handles, and Fern held tight to the pot, and together they lifted it to the sink where Anna directed Fern to pour the boiling water. Steam rose clear to the ceiling, and both Fern and Anna leaned back to keep from getting burned.
Once half the water was gone, Anna pressed the lid to the top of the pot and used it to stop the oysters from escaping as Fern poured out the rest of the water. Once the water was drained, Fern set the pot on a cooling rack next to the stove.
“Denki, dear. I have never cooked oysters before, and I want to make a special meal for Reuben tonight. He is so very sad, and I thought oyster and water chestnut salad might cheer him up.”
“Sounds like a very unusual recipe.”
“Ach, vell, I made it up. The best ones are usually the ones I come up with when I’m being creative.” Anna winked and tapped her temple with her index finger. “It keeps me sharp.”
Reuben had said that his mammi was a gute cook, but Fern wasn’t too sure about the sound of oyster and water chestnut salad, even with a stomach so empty it echoed.
Anna caught her breath. “Ach, du lieva. Your foot is bleeding.”
Fern looked down at her ankle. The oozing blood had left a trail from her ankle to her heel that looked quite spectacular. “I’m sorry for getting your floor dirty.”
Anna swatted her apology away like a mosquito. “It will wipe right off, but cum, sit down. What a very thoughtful girl you are. You cared more about my pot than you did your ankle. I hope your foot doesn’t fall off because of your unselfishness.”
Fern giggled. “It’s just a scratch. My foot slipped off my bicycle pedal.” She went around the counter and sat down at the kitchen table while Anna gathered some supplies from her drawers in the kitchen.
She came to the table and sat in the chair next to Fern. “Can you lift your foot and rest it on my leg? I’m afraid I don’t bend so well anymore. Every bone in my body clanks if I try.”
Fern raised her eyebrows. “Of course, but you don’t need to do that. I can clean it myself.”
Anna tapped her leg where she wanted Fern to prop her foot. “Stuff and nonsense. You saved my oysters. The least I can do is tend to your foot. After caring for thirteen children, I’m practically a nurse.”
Smiling at this charming fraa who had no doubt seen her share of skinned knees and fat lips, Fern set her foot on Anna’s leg and let her tend to her ankle.
Anna dabbed carefully at Fern’s cut with a soapy towel. Her hands were gentle but thorough, as if she’d done such a thing hundreds of times before. “What is your name, dear?”
“Ach, I’m sorry. My name is Fern King. I’m visiting from Ohio.”
“Who are you visiting?”
“Barbara and Wally Schmucker. Barbara is my dat’s second cousin.”
Something awkward and uncertain flitted across Anna’s face. “You’re staying with Barbara?”
Fern was staying on their property. Anna didn’t need the details. “Jah.”
“Wally is a dear man,” Anna said, wiping the dried blood from Fern’s foot. “Patient and long-suffering. He does what he can, you know.” She leaned closer to Fern. “Barbara has an extra toe on her left foot, but none of us has ever loved her less because of her little deformity.”
Fern grinned. “I’m glad to hear it.”
“I saw you at gmay yesterday and thought, What a pretty girl. You left before we could get acquainted.”
“Barbara wasn’t feeling well. Wally was eager to get home to her.”
Anna nodded, and Fern could tell she was forcing a reassuring smile onto her lips. “Barbara takes lots of naps. She was the best quilter in Wisconsin once.” She dried Fern’s foot with the edge of her towel. It looked as good as new except for the three-inch gash at her ankle. Anna picked up a tube of antibacterial ointment and studied Fern, her eyes twinkling like sparklers on the Fourth of July. “You seem like such a delightful girl, Fern. Do you have a boyfriend?”
Fern couldn’t hold back a wide smile. Mammis never failed to ask about boyfriends. “Nae. I haven’t found one who can keep up with me. I can’t abide the sluggish ones.”
“I don’t blame you, dear. I fell in love with Felty because he was so lively. I knew I would have many exciting adventures if I married him.” Anna spread the ointment on Fern’s cut. “I ask because I am looking for a wife for my grandson Reuben, and you might be just the girl. He’s very handsome and very thoughtful and any girl would consider herself blessed to marry him.”
Fern bit her tongue to keep from laughing. Reuben would be quite irritated if he knew his mammi was trying to marry him off. Fern itched to tell him. She loved it when he got irritated.
“He’s going through a bit of a rough patch right now. He may seem a little grumpy at first, but he’s always been one of my most cheerful grandsons. He’s from Ohio too.” She examined Fern’s cut and pulled out four Band-Aids from the box. “Of course, I would have to interview you to make sure you and Reuben would suit, so don’t get your hopes up just yet.”
“I would never get my hopes up with Reuben,” Fern said, smiling in resignation. “He refuses to talk to me.”
Anna eyed Fern as if she wore a feather on her head. “You already know Reuben?”
“I came from Ohio just so I could talk to him.”
“Really? About what? Did you try to propose?”
“Nae. My brother and Reuben’s old girlfriend are engaged. I feel terrible about what happened and was hoping I could talk Reuben into coming home. If he would just listen to John, I know my brother could make things right between them.”
Anna leaned in again and lowered her voice to a whisper. “We know all about his disgrace. Our son wrote to us.”
“It wasn’t exactly a disgrace, though I’m sure Reuben thinks it is. My brother and Linda Sue didn’t plan to fall in love. John was Reuben’s best friend, and Linda Sue was Reuben’s girlfriend. He’s the one who brought them together.” Fern smiled and shook her head. “I’m sure Reuben would be very irritated if I pointed that out to him.”
“So Linda Sue broke his heart?” Anna said.
“Jah, I suppose she did. You would like Linda Sue. She’s very quiet, hardly says a word unless you ask her a question.”
Anna pressed her lips together. “I have a hard time being fond of a girl who hurt my grandson’s feelings. Although, maybe they weren’t a gute match. It takes skill to find just the right match for someone. Not everyone is good at it.”
“Reuben thought they were perfectly suited. Linda Sue is the prettiest girl in Sugarcreek, and her dat is the bishop. Reuben always hoped to marry a bishop’s maedle. He thought it would make him more important.”
Anna’s lips twitched. “You think my grandson is proud.”
Fern was sure her eyes were dancing like Anna’s were. “Jah, and I’ve told him so many times. He doesn’t pay me any heed.”
Anna looked as if she was trying to hold in her laughter. “I think he would appreciate a girl who is honest with him.”
“But who among us isn’t tempted by pride? Poor Reuben simply has more reason to be proud than most of us. He’s handsome, smart, rich, and the minister’s son. His blessings are almost unbearable for him.”
“It was probably a gute thing that your brother knocked Reuben’s pride down a peg or two.”
“I hate to see him so unhappy, even if it was for his own gute yet.”
“When people praise me for my cooking, I am tempted to be proud,” Anna said. “My son, Reuben’s fater, and my daughter-in-law have gotten very wealthy selling that smelly oil stuff, though why anyone would pay good money for it, I’ll never know.”
Fern laughed. “Essential oils. They’ve done very well, but they give much of their money to the church.”
“Of course they do. We taught Reuben’s dat David whom to thank for his blessings. He’s no slouch.”
“And neither is Reuben.”
Anna squeezed Fern’s hand. “I know that for sure and certain. He may be proud and a little big for his britches, but he also has a heart of gold.”
“He does,” said Fern, suddenly feeling very sad for Reuben. “I’m very sorry about what happened. I just don’t know how to make it better. Linda Sue isn’t suddenly going to change her mind.”
Anna finished laying the Band-Aids over Fern’s cut. “You’re here, and Linda Sue isn’t. Even though you don’t particularly like him, I’m still willing to match you up, if you think that would help.”
Fern took her foot from Anna’s lap. “Ach, I like him very much. He’s like a big brother to me, a misguided brother, but still. . . .” She bent over and smoothed the Band-Aids with her finger. “He was always watching out for me, like a brother should, even though I often ruined his fun by tagging along or tattling. He saved my life once.”
“I’ve always known he was a very nice sort of boy. Did he donate blood?”
Fern curled her lips. “John and Reuben and some of their other friends went swimming, and I insisted on going, like I often did. John was always annoyed with me so he usually ignored me. If Reuben hadn’t been looking out for me, I would have drowned.”
“Thank the gute Lord he was there,” Anna said. “Since he saved your life, we might be able to talk him into marrying you.”
Fern couldn’t suppress her laughter. Reuben would choke on his own tongue if he knew what they were talking about. “I truly love Reuben, but I couldn’t marry him. He’s too stuck-up. And he would never dream of marrying me. I’m from a poor family, not to mention the sister of the boy who stole his girlfriend. It would be humiliating to marry the daughter of a pig farmer.”
“But Reuben’s best friend was the son of a pig farmer.”
Fern wrinkled her forehead. “I suppose he thought John looked up to him.”
Anna stood, went around the counter, and peered into her pot. She took a slotted spoon, fished an oyster shell from the pot, and carried it to the table like she might carry a compass ahead of her. “Would you like to try an oyster, Fern? They’re very nutritious
.”
Fern attempted a smile. Inside the half-open shell was a grayish-black, shiny blob that looked about as appetizing as shoe rubber. Swallowing hard, she stifled a shudder. She wasn’t quite that hungry yet. “You should save them for Reuben. He has a big appetite.”
“He surely does.” To Fern’s relief, Anna didn’t try to persuade her. She took the pot back to the stove and covered it with the lid, probably to make sure those things wouldn’t escape. “Reuben eats when he’s upset. That’s why he needs a girl.”
“I’m not sure having a girlfriend would cheer him up,” Fern said.
“There’s nothing like a wife to cure what ails my Reuben. The trouble is, ever since he showed up at our house, I’ve been wracking my brain, but I just can’t think of a girl who’s right for him.”
Fern leaned her chin on her hand. “And you’ve got to get her to Huckleberry Hill. Reuben’s not likely to go into town to see a girl, even if she’s perfect for him. He’d move to Montana if he thought you were trying to get him married off.”
“It wonders me if knitting some pot holders for him might help. Or I wouldn’t mind crocheting some dishrags.”
Fern clapped her hands. “Anna, what about starting a knitting group and matching him with one of the knitters?”
Anna’s smile froze in place, as if she were trying to be encouraging even though she thought Fern’s suggestion was slightly odd. “Well, dear, I’m already in a knitting group, and the youngest member is seventy-three. I don’t think Reuben is that desperate.”
Fern laughed. “What I meant was, what if we started a knitting group with some of the unmarried girls in the district? That would give them an excuse to come to Huckleberry Hill without making Reuben suspicious. Each girl would have a chance to get to know Reuben while we knitted.”
Anna tapped her fingers to her mouth. “That just might work. So few of die youngie know how to knit these days. It would do them gute to learn.”
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