by Beth Shriver
“Good question, you ol’ mule,” Caleb said as he came in from the barn, where he’d been cleaning up a bit more after the milking. “Why don’t ya come over more often?”
“Milking went twice as fast with me helping.” Manny winked at Emma and turned to Caleb. “So what took ya so long to get in here?”
“I thought I’d let you two talk.” Caleb washed up and sat down across from Manny. “You seem better.” Caleb gave Manny a knowing look.. “Any special reason?”
Manny scoffed. “Tell me what you’re really asking.”
“All right. Have you been out to Sam’s place again?” Caleb held his gaze on Manny.
Manny drummed his fingers on the table, pondering what to say. “Why do you ask?” He couldn’t find the right words, so he answered with a question to avoid saying more than he should.
How honest could he be without feeling disrespectful? He saw not only her pure heart but also her need for someone who truly cared about her. He shook his head at how ridiculous he sounded. She was married, and he was still in mourning, but Caleb was right: he needed to move on. The draw he had been feeling toward Lucy had taught him that much at least. Now he was beginning to hope that someday he would have a relationship again, but he couldn’t imagine how that would happen or with whom.
“Don’t encourage him, Caleb,” Emma snapped at him. “She’s a married woman, ya know.”
Caleb snorted. “I’m not trying to cause trouble between her and Sam, but Lucy’s got to be the unhappiest person I ever met. Surely there’s no harm in her having a friend in Manny.” He leaned back in his chair and stared at Manny. “Emma’s right. Lucy is a married woman. So who else is there that you enjoy spending time with?”
Emma walked over and slapped his leg with her spatula. “You’re making Manny uncomfortable.”
“Nee!” Caleb sat back in his chair, tipping it up on two legs. “You’re not uncomfortable, are ya, Manny.” He said it more like a statement than a question, knowing Manny wouldn’t tell him even if he didn’t like the conversation.
“Can I use that spatula?” Manny teased, making them all laugh.
“It’s the only thing that works when he starts flapping his tongue.” Emma handed it to Manny for fun.
“I’m armed now. So change the subject.” Manny whipped the spatula around and caught Caleb on the arm.
Taken off guard, Caleb reared backward and lost his balance. He fell with a slam to the floor, cradled his head with one hand, and pushed himself up with the other. Scrambling to his feet, he stared at Manny. “I give!” He held up both hands. “I’m done teasing you for today.”
Emma had her hand over her mouth in shock, but now let out a loud laugh. “Are you okay?” She stroked Caleb’s cheek and then felt the back of his head.
“I’m gut. I was probably asking for that.” His face was a bit pale, but he was in good humor, so Manny decided he was right. His teasing had gone too far, and Manny was glad Emma got on him about it. He couldn’t tell anyone how he felt—not now, probably never.
“Sorry, friend.” He stood and clasped Caleb’s hand. “No hard feelings?”
“Nah. Now I don’t need that extra cup of coffee. ’Cause you woke me up!” Caleb grinned, letting him know he meant it, and walked over to Emma to give her a peck on the cheek.
“Danke for dinner, Sis.” Manny headed for the door as Emma patted Caleb’s cheek. The endearments they shared were too much for Manny. He was happy for them but selfishly jealous he didn’t have what they had. It wasn’t right to pine over it, so he tried to occupy his mind with something else. He hadn’t had a good talk with Sweet Pea in a while. Maybe he’d head home and have a heart to heart with her.
Manny took his time going back to his farm, deciding to check and see whether the mail had come yet. He looked up at the blue sky. The sun was straight overhead. His mail should be there waiting for him. It would be a slow ride because he’d brought Sweet Pea. He liked to get her out now and then, not wanting her to think she was going to be sent to pasture.
He’d been delivering the mail to Lucy for over a week now, but he felt a little unsteady inside each time he rode down the path to her place. Sam wasn’t usually around, so the awkwardness was at a minimum. The best part was, she seemed a bit more relaxed around him. But because of her concern that Sam might not approve of him dropping by, Manny stood in the mudroom, never entering the haus.
Manny took in a long breath and gave himself a minute to scope out the surroundings as he pulled on the brake. Sam was nowhere in sight, and neither was Lucy. The path to the main road was lengthy, so they had time to see who was coming long before a visitor actually got to their farm. Lucy usually greeted him at the door and asked him if he wanted a drink of tea or lemonade, but today no one could be seen.
He looked down at the two letters he held and wondered whether he should shove them under the door, but he didn’t want to take the chance they might get lost. He decided to take a walk around to see whether he could find either of them.
As he strolled along, he started thinking he had chores to do and should be getting back to his own place, but something about Lucy drew him to her. He didn’t know whether it was an attraction or a need to make sure she was all right. He’d never seen anyone so forlorn . . . at least until he got her talking. Then another side of her came out that he enjoyed very much.
He was deep in thought when he heard Sam’s voice. The sound grew, and soon Sam was yelling . . . no, screaming.
Manny’s first thought was for Lucy, but he held back the thought, thinking it could be a horse just as easily as a human on which Sam was taking out his wrath. Still, he found himself running, following the growling force that seemed to surround him. He tried to decipher where exactly the noise was. There were a number of buildings to pick from—the bunk haus, chicken coop, barn, and shed, to name a few. Sam’s farm was so big he could get lost in it.
A woman’s cry, shockingly loud, made him stop in his tracks. It directed him to where he should go, and he was at top speed within seconds. His boots felt like concrete, they were so slow and heavy. He drew up as he neared the door, smacking into it to stop his pace. The large garage housed farm equipment, which he maneuvered around to find the source of the sobbing he now heard. Lucy stood against a flatbed covering her face with her arm. Sam paced back and forth in front of her with balled fists, squeezing and releasing them.
“Sam!” Manny didn’t recognize his own voice. It was calm and louder than usual.
Sam lifted his head and squinted at Manny. “Who’s there?”
“It’s Manny.”
Sam stopped and looked at Lucy, who straightened with palms against her thighs, but didn’t lift her head. “What brings you here?” He growled at Manny.
“Just dropping off your mail.” Manny was glad he had a reason to come and now understood why Abner was concerned. It wasn’t clear what was happening, but whatever it was, it was not good.
“Take it from him.”
Sam didn’t have to ask Lucy twice. She was by Manny’s side before he could lift the letters up to her.
Manny tried to look in her eyes, but she put her head down and kept walking. He watched her go, and then turned to Sam. He was back to work repairing a manure spreader. It was a bold move, but Manny couldn’t let this go, and he took his time walking down the aisle filled with everything from plows to carts. “Is there anything I
can help you with?”
Sam continued to bang out a bent piece of metal, but he didn’t speak.
“Lucy seemed upset.” Manny shifted his boots.
Still no response.
To his surprise, Manny was prepared for whatever Sam said or did. It might have been less than he thought, but after looking into Lucy’s face, he was pretty sure what had transpired between them was not right; she wasn’t herself. “Do you want me to check on her?”
Sam turned his head away from the spreader and slowly stood without taking his eyes off Manny. “Why are you still here?”
“To deliver your mail.” Manny wished he had the two envelopes.
Sam glared at him. “Don’t bother yourself with the mail.”
Manny scoffed. The few times he’d brought the mail to them, there was nothing for Sam, but he knew how important it was for Lucy to get correspondence.
“It’s no problem.” He felt like he’d blown it. That was his excuse to check in on her, and after what had just happened, he felt the obligation even more. His mind raced to find what to say. But when he looked up at Sam, he knew nothing he said would change his mind. “I know you don’t like to bother with it, and I think Abner’s on the mend, so I’ll see if he’s able to.”
Sam’s lips pinched together as he stared him down. “We’ll manage.” He took a single step that put them nose to nose. “Gut day, Manny.”
His words weren’t rude, but his tone was.
Manny felt useless at this point. Worst of all, he’d put Lucy in the middle. He’d overstepped his bounds, and when he thought about it, he was probably making it harder for her. Had he heard what he thought he had or was he thinking the worst? This was the overprotective side of him that he had no right to indulge.
He was out of line; the Amish kept family issues within the family. The bishop would consider this a private matter, yet Manny thought it was hard for him not to do anything when there was some sort of verbal abuse going on. He was involved just because of what he heard and saw, whether that was wrong or right.
Manny walked away from the barn deep in thought, wondering where his place was in all this, if he had any at all, and noticed Lucy sitting on the porch swing reading a letter.
“One of those from your sister?” He understood why Abner was so nosy now and was glad that he was. It was nice to know she had family who loved and cared about her.
Lucy jumped a little and nodded. Her freckles looked brighter today, but then, her face was also paler. He wondered whether it was because she didn’t feel well or because of Sam.
He took slow steps to the gate and stopped. “Is everybody good back home?”
Her eyes rose over the top of the paper she held, and she nodded.
“Are your sisters coming down anytime soon?”
“Nee, my mamm came yesterday, but she went to fetch some more coffee.”
He relished hearing her voice at an even level. “That’s nice. You enjoying spending time with her?” That seemed like a stupid question, but he was so glad she was talking to him that he didn’t care, and she didn’t seem to mind.
She put the letter down and turned her head toward the barn. “Sort of.”
Manny couldn’t hide his surprise. He waited for her to continue.
“She’s . . . hard to please.” She immediately put a hand to her lips, as if to lock them shut. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way.”
Manny smiled, tickled she was worried about what he thought when all he cared about was having a conversation with her. “Family can be like that at times.”
She gave a short laugh. “Or all the time.”
He listened to her laugh in his mind again and smiled with her. “I know what you mean.”
“She’ll be a big help, though.” Her eyes lost their sparkle, and Manny looked over his shoulder to see Sam with a bucket of milk in hand to separate.
“I’m sure she will be. I look forward to meeting her.” He knew he should leave; she was obviously nervous with him there and Sam wishing he was gone. But when Sam moved out of sight to finish his chore, Manny turned around on a heel and stuck his hands on his hips. “Are you all right?” He didn’t know where his courage came from, but he couldn’t leave without asking.
Lucy’s face turned pink. “Manny—”
“I won’t do or say a thing. I just need to know.” He waited a beat and then another, thinking he wasn’t going to get an answer. He was about to turn around when she said his name.
“Manny, danke.” When she stood and walked into the haus, he’d never felt so helpless.
The women took their places at the large table around the quilting frame in Frieda’s kitchen. “It’s about time we all got together to quilt. I thought I was gonna end up making this whole quilt myself.” Frieda’s tone wasn’t pleasant, but she had reason to be a little frustrated. They had been increasingly busy. With the beginning of fall harvest around the corner, they were hopping from farm to farm, threshing, cutting, and baling as much as they could before the more time-consuming crops would need to be tended to.
“Now, Frieda, you know I’ll always get us together and work double-time if need be.” Nellie took two stitches, using her thimble to push the needle back and forth through the fabric. “Lucy’s little one isn’t due for a few more weeks now. Remember in the days when we used cotton? It was like quilting through butter.”
Lucy admired Nellie’s gift of quilting and wished she could do half as well. She made it seem effortless. Nellie’s hand was poised above the quilt as she watched the others work. It was as if she had two sets of eyes—one stitching and one overseeing others’ work. After hearing Nellie’s story, Lucy admired her even more, not only for her love of quilting but also for her independent nature, something rare among the Amish.
“That’s when we were down south, and the cotton was plentiful.” Rosy wiggled her fingers to get the knots out of them. “Those were the days, weren’t they?” She looked up as if seeing that time all over again. Her bright-blue eyes gazed upward as if she were there.
“You missing Tennessee, Rosy?” Frieda took a back stitch and then pushed the thread under the quilt and snipped off the head. Lucy watched and learned more than she quilted. These women had experience on their side, spending many years making the most difficult stitch look easy.
Rosy leveled her head to meet Lucy’s gaze. “You miss it there, don’t ya, hon?”
A lump formed in Lucy’s throat as she recalled the pain of leaving there. Being the youngest to find a husband had become a concern, not so much for her as for her mamm. But Lucy hadn’t been happy since she’d moved away and figured she wouldn’t ever live there again. Sam would never leave even though his family was up north, and she would never ask him to. With his mamm and daed gone and only one surviving sister that he didn’t speak to, he had no reason to go. But in Lucy’s mind, he had little reason to stay, especially since her family was down south.
Lucy watched Rosy cut a length of thread, lick its end, and then pick up a magnifying glass that Mammi had wired to the quilt frame to thread the needle. “What will we stuff this one with?”
Lucy hadn’t used anything but old dresses, old quilts, or worn-out pants. She wanted only the best for the little one, something that she’d made. Lucy knew the babe would have plenty to rest her head on, but the one from her would have to be extra special.
&nbs
p; “Something warm.” Mamm had been quiet until now and looked over at Lucy. “So you’ll have something to keep you and the baby warm.”
“Well then, we might have to put some cotton in there.” Frieda winked at Lucy and grinned. “We wouldn’t want you or little Joe to catch a chill.”
“Little Joe?” Lucy stared at Frieda. “You’ve decided it’s a boy and named him already?”
Frieda nodded. “Jah, I know you want a girl, but I’m thinking that by the way he’s sitting down low, it’s a boy.”
“Huh-uh.” Nellie chimed in. “Lucy wants a girl, so that’s the way we’re thinking.” She peered over at Lucy’s bulging belly. “Although Frieda’s right about how low that babe is.” Verna was unusually quiet about the whole conversation. She must have something on her mind, but quilting was the best medicine, no matter what ailed a woman. “As long as the baby doesn’t have Sam’s eyes, I don’t care if it’s a boy or a girl.”
Nellie, Frieda, Rosy, and Lucy all stared at her. But Mamm’s eyes were on her needle as she stitched like she was punching a bag of corn. The room was silent for a long moment.
“Why do you say that?” Frieda asked with a frown. Lucy was just glad she hadn’t had to ask. She was curious as to why her mamm would say such a thing, at least out loud. There were many things she thought about her own husband but never had the nerve to say. She worried that Sam and Mamm might set each other off, but so far they’d done their best to ignore each other.
“I’ve never seen such cutting eyes. And the color, it’s a mishmash of something I haven’t seen before.” She tied and snipped a piece of thread and reached for a patch. She glanced around the room quickly. “Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed.”
Now that Lucy thought about it, that was what made his stare intimidating and his eyes unfriendly. It matched his personality to a T.
The room quieted again, and Lucy found she needed some air. She’d expected awkward moments with her mamm coming to visit, but it wasn’t any easier to deal with. She appreciated her mother’s concerns about Sam, but her mamm was an opinionated woman around opinionated women, and it was a tough situation to be in the middle of when they were all talking about Sam.