by Sarah Price
She focused on a stubborn weed, smacking the hoe into the soil. “That must have been long before we moved here.”
For as long as she could remember, the Beiler farm had never been very fertile. As her older sisters told the story, their father had bought the farm for their mother. She had always wanted to live on a farm. Melvin wanted nothing more than to please her. But after she passed, Melvin began to lose interest in farming. Instead, he tried his hand at raising dairy cows. For a while, that had been successful, until he began building things. His preference for working with metal surpassed his interest in milking cows twice a day. Slowly, he began to sell off the cows to purchase new tools for welding, as well as supplies to make his inventions, leaving only six cows to help feed the family.
And that had been the beginning of the end to farm life for the Beiler family.
“Why don’t you rest a spell, Belle?” He reached over and grabbed the top of the hoe. Surprised at his forward gesture, thinking that he would take over, Belle stopped trying to work and looked at him. But he gave her a small smile and added: “Let’s go for a walk. Just you and me.”
Belle shook her head. The string of her prayer kapp fell over her shoulder and she reached up to push it back. “Nee, Gabriel. Daed is leaving tomorrow, and he needs my help before he leaves.”
“Leaving?”
She nodded. Everyone in town knew that her father was trying to build something—anything!—that he could sell. It wasn’t a secret. In fact, too many times, she had overheard people snickering when Melvin tried to talk to Linda about carrying his inventions in her store. But the Amish weren’t interested in grills or new pitchforks, in self-standing fancy hayrack-feeder combinations, in insulated water troughs that would never let the water freeze. They were perfectly happy with what they already had, thank you very much. “You know he was making that new grill, Gabriel. Since Linda won’t carry it in Troyers’ General Store, he’s traveling to Liberty Village tomorrow.”
Gabriel nodded. “Oh, ja, I remember now. That grill with the wheel thingie.”
Wheel “thingie.” Belle smacked another weed. She didn’t like the way Gabriel spoke of the invention, his tone almost mocking her father’s device. “It raises and lowers the grill. And it doesn’t get hot like the rest of the metal on the grill. It’s ingenious.”
“Ingenious or not, Amish don’t need that.”
“Mayhaps not,” she admitted. “But I bet the Englischers will buy it.”
He laughed.
“It’s not funny, Gabriel.” She leaned against the hoe and gave him a stern look. “Not all Amish men are meant to be farmers. No one made fun of Ella’s daed when he wanted to open that store in town. In fact, all of us shop there, don’t we?”
“That’s a bit different. Linda Troyer carries things we all need . . . like flour, sugar, hardware, and tools.”
Belle tried to mask her emotions, not wishing to offend Gabriel but feeling the strong urge to defend her father. “Someone, somewhere, will be needing a new wood-burning grill, Gabriel. And when my daed finds the right people who want to carry it in their stores, no one will be laughing, for sure and certain.”
“Aw, Belle,” Gabriel said somberly. “I didn’t mean anything by it. One of these days, your daed will make something people want, I’m sure.”
I just hope it’s this time. She kept that thought to herself as she glanced up at the sun. “Ja, vell, I best get going. Daed will be home soon, and he’ll need help with the afternoon milking.”
Gabriel looked disappointed that their visit was cut short. While Belle felt bad that Gabriel had walked all that way from town, she knew better than to encourage him by talking with him for any longer.
“If you must,” he said. “But I’ll be stopping by to make sure you and your schwesters are getting on all right while your daed ’s gone, Belle.”
She forced a smile at Gabriel. “No need for that. We’ll be just fine, I’m sure.” Then, before he could argue, she lifted the hoe and placed it against her shoulder. “Danke for your visit. Say hello to your family for me.” Without another word, she started to walk toward the barn, dreading the thought that Gabriel might follow through on his promise to visit while her father was traveling to Liberty Village.
Chapter Three
On Thursday morning, Belle awoke to the sound of thunder. In the early-morning light, she opened her eyes and saw that the room was darker than usual. A few seconds later, a flash of lightning filled the room, followed by another loud rumble of thunder.
Good thing her father had left on his trip yesterday morning. Rain would have delayed his progress and made travel a misery. Some of the roads leading from Echo Creek to Liberty Village weren’t paved. Inclement weather meant puddles and potholes. She wondered if he would be delayed coming home.
Once again lightning flashed and thunder rumbled, as if to remind Belle to get going.
“Oh, help!” she muttered as she tossed back the covers. Rainy days were not her favorite, that was for sure and certain. While she knew that rain made the garden grow, she wasn’t ready for a long day of complaints from her sisters. It was hard enough getting them to help with the outdoor chores on sunny days, but on rainy days, they usually sat around the kitchen table and complained about how damp and depressing everything felt. It was true that the house was more humid on rainy days. But Belle always pointed out that complaining did nothing to make the situation any better.
After getting dressed and fixing her hair, she quickly made her bed and hurried down to the kitchen.
She paused at the door and looked outside. The sky was almost black with dark clouds quickly moving through in succession, water pouring out of them and drenching everything underneath. She was surprised to see that it was almost six o’clock. She had slept late, and the cows needed to be milked. With a sigh, she reached for her father’s rain slicker. Slipping her arms into it, she realized that her father did not have any protection from the rain. Hopefully the rain would stop before he started his journey home that afternoon.
The rain drenched her hair and face as she ran from the house toward the small barn. Once inside, she shook off the jacket and wiped the raindrops from her cheeks.
“Good morning, girls!” she sang cheerfully as she walked down the aisle in front of the cows. “Sorry I’m late this morning. And I hate to tell you, but it’s going to be a long, wet day. Might not send you out until the afternoon.”
The only response she received was a gentle moo from one of the cows.
“I know, I know. Your udders are full. I’ll be along shortly with the pail.” She hurried into the back room to get the milking stool and bucket. Most farmers had automatic milkers that were run with diesel machines, but her father’s herd was too small and the milk production too little to justify the investment. Besides, Melvin didn’t want to be a dairy farmer. The milk that was produced on the farm was used by the Beiler family for drinking, baking, and making cheese, which Belle sold to Linda Troyer to sell to other families in the area. Besides gardening, making cheese was one of Belle’s favorite things to do, and today was a perfect day to do just that.
As she started milking, she hummed “Jesus Loves Me,” her cheek pressed against the flank of the cow while she gently coaxed the milk from her teats. There was something about working with cows that brought joy to Belle’s day. She loved their musky smell (although she could do without the pungent odor of the manure!) and the sounds of the cows chewing their cud. Each cow seemed to have her own personality: one was feisty and liked to kick at the bucket; one was calm and sweet, sometimes trying to lick Belle’s neck or nuzzle her hair; and yet another was always impatient, eager to get the milking finished. Belle remembered the days when their dairy herd had been much larger than just six cows. But over time, they had needed to sell off cows and, occasionally, slaughter one or two for winter food. Now the small herd was all that they could afford, and Belle worried about what they would do for the upcoming winter. If they slaughter
ed another one, they’d be down to five cows, and that would not produce enough milk for her cheese making. And they needed that money to buy dry goods.
Almost an hour passed before Susie ran through the barn door. She shook off her shawl and tossed it on a pile of hay. “Why, it’s raining cats and dogs out there!”
Belle glanced up from the last cow she was milking. “That it is!” She sighed, worry etched in her face. “I sure hope the rain lets up before Daed ’s trip home.”
“Oh, but he’ll stay another night, don’t you think?” Susie hurried to grab a shovel and began cleaning the cow manure. She scooped it into a wheelbarrow, one shovelful at a time.
“Where’s Verna? Still sleeping?” Belle returned her attention to the cow without waiting for the answer.
“She never was a morning person,” Susie quipped. “And why bother getting up when it’s such a miserable day! I’ve half a mind to go back to bed myself.”
But chores needed to be completed. Truth be told, Belle was grateful that Susie had joined her at all. She wasn’t usually one to step up to the occasion without being prodded a bit.
By eight o’clock, the cows were milked and fed, their stalls were clean, and both young women were trying unsuccessfully to dodge the raindrops as they carried buckets of milk into the house. Belle hurried to light the lantern that hung over the table, the soft glow creating a cozy warmth in the room.
She was just about to make coffee when a loud clap of thunder caused her to jump. “Oh, help! That’s awfully close. I reckon it’s just as stormy at Liberty Village, ja?”
Susie sat at the kitchen table, her head bent over a piece of paper as she wrote something on it. “I’m sure I wouldn’t know.” She scribbled something and then paused, looking thoughtfully at the kitchen wall.
“What’re you writing?”
“A list.” Susie gave a mischievous smile.
“A list of . . . what?”
“A list of all the things we need if Daed starts selling these grills to the Englischers.”
Belle should’ve known better than to ask the question. Still, the gleam in Susie’s eyes made Belle laugh. “Well, I sure hope a new buggy is at the top on your list!”
“Nee !” Susie frowned at her younger sister. “Why on earth would that be on my list!”
Now Belle’s curiosity was piqued. The farm needed so many things: repainting, a larger workshop for their father, repairs to the barn—and there was a leaky roof that needed to be fixed before winter came. And, of course, a new buggy for their father to fetch his supplies from town. “If that’s not on your list, what is?”
For a moment, Susie did not respond. Her eyes quickly scanned her list. Finally, she answered Belle. “New fabric for a Sunday dress. New boots. Mine have a hole in the sole. Material to make a new prayer kapp. You can see how yellow mine has gotten.”
“Bleach it.”
Susie scowled. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting to make a new prayer kapp. I can hardly expect anyone to ask me for a buggy ride wearing this old thing.” She swiped at the limp strings of her prayer kapp.
“Starch it.”
But Susie shook her head. “Nee, a new one is in order. Oh, and we need to have a picnic here. We haven’t hosted a youth gathering in years.”
Belle knew that was an understatement. She couldn’t even remember when they had ever hosted a youth gathering. Besides the fact that their home was the farm farthest from town, it was also in the worst shape. It was embarrassing to not be able to host youth gatherings like everyone else in their church district. But Belle also knew that her father couldn’t really afford to feed all of those people. It was increasingly hard for him to feed his own family!
“What’re you two doing?” Verna trudged down the stairs, her long brown hair hanging down her back. She walked over to the small cabinet near the door and retrieved a brush.
“Making lists.”
Belle shook her head and pointed to Susie. “Not me.”
Verna began to twist her hair into a small bun. “Lists of what?”
“Things we need.” Susie began to read off her list once again.
“Oh!” Verna hurried over to the table. She forgot about her hair and sat down next to Susie. “I need new dresses, too. Put pink fabric on your list! I’ve always wanted a pink dress. And not that pale pink. I want a bright pink one!”
Susie scribbled on the paper.
“I’d love a red dress!” Verna added.
“Oh, I don’t think the church leaders have said we can wear that new color yet,” Belle pointed out.
Verna ignored her. “And a new coat for winter.”
Belle frowned. “What’s wrong with your old coat?”
Verna shot her a look of disdain. “Just that, Belle. It’s old!”
Unfazed by Verna’s sharp tone, Belle retrieved some pins from the cabinet and then stood behind Verna to fix her hair. “Seems you both are mixing up your wants and needs.”
“Oh, Belle!” Verna rolled her eyes. “No one wants to marry a poor girl! I’d be helping out Daed if I got married, now wouldn’t I? One less mouth to feed.”
Placing her hands on Verna’s shoulders, Belle leaned over and whispered in a teasing voice, “The dress does not make the girl. A man should fall in love with what’s on the inside, not the outside.”
Angrily, Verna swatted at her. “Ach, Belle! What would you know about love, anyway!”
Ignoring Verna, Belle picked up the brush. She was used to being taunted by her sisters. It was just something that Susie and especially Verna did. Long ago Belle had learned to take their goading with extra patience. So instead of commenting about how cruel Verna’s comment was, Belle listened to her sisters as they discussed other items that they’d ask their father to purchase when he returned from Liberty Village. Belle merely shook her head and continued with her morning chores.
She had three work dresses and her nice dark blue dress for Sunday service. There was nothing more that she needed. As for bleaching and starching her own prayer kapp, as well as her Sunday apron and cape, she did not mind. Too much of anything was always bad to have, she reminded herself, with a quick glance at her sisters to reinforce the thought.
“Kum now, Verna and Susie,” Belle said at last. “I hate to break up your plotting and scheming to capture the hearts of every available young man in Echo Creek, but we do have a few chores that must be done today.”
Verna acted as if she did not hear as she got up to pour herself a cup of coffee. Susie, however, being the more practical of the two, sighed and hurried to fetch her apron.
“What do we have to do today?” she asked Belle as she tied the apron strings behind her waist.
“We’ve cheese to make and cleaning to do.”
“Cleaning?” Verna scoffed as she stirred sugar into her coffee.
“The bathroom needs a thorough scrubbing, since someone”—Belle glanced at Verna—“chose to go visit a friend last week rather than clean it when it was her day.”
“Verna!” Susie tossed a hand towel at her sister. “You best do it then!”
“It’s not my week.”
“But you didn’t do it when it was your week!”
Belle reached out and touched Susie’s arm. “Regardless of whose week it is, it must be done. Unless you’d like to make the cheese and milk the cows, I suggest one of you get started.”
Verna scoffed at her. But, after finishing her coffee in one long gulp, she set down her mug and, with an overexaggerated sigh, fetched the cleaning supplies and headed to the bathroom.
For the next few hours, Belle worked in the kitchen, not just making cheese but also baking some fresh homemade bread, knowing that her father would appreciate a nice warm slice whenever he arrived home. Susie took advantage of the time to sweep the upstairs and dust the furniture, Verna joining her when she had finished cleaning the bathroom. On a rainy day in Echo Creek, inside chores were about the only thing that anyone could do.
By earl
y evening, the sky was still pitch-black, with the exception of the occasional lightning strike. Belle stood at the window and stared outside. Earlier, both Susie and Verna had helped with the late-afternoon milking, for which Belle was grateful. The rain had continued to fall so hard that Belle almost expected to see Noah’s ark floating down their driveway. Fortunately, their property sat upon a slight hill, so the overflowing creek across the road didn’t threaten to flood the house.
“Oh, I’m sure that Daed ’s staying over in Liberty Village, don’t you think?” She spoke mostly to herself, not expecting either one of her sisters to answer. “He wouldn’t be foolish enough to travel in this weather, now, would he?”
“Daed?” Verna looked up from her needlepoint. “Nee, he wouldn’t risk it. Not with that old buggy we’ve got. Why, those wheels would just break if he got stuck in the mud.”
With a heavy sigh, Belle forced herself to turn away from the window. It wouldn’t do her any good to keep fretting about their father. She could only pray that he had enough common sense to stay in Liberty Village. “Anyone feel like playing Scrabble?” She didn’t wait for their answer as she went to fetch the red box from underneath the cupboard.
Setting down her needlepoint, Verna reached out for the box. “I sure do hope the rain stops. It’s going to be awful wet for our next volleyball game.”
Belle frowned. “I’m more worried about Daed than a youth gathering.”
Verna winced at the reprimand. “Of course, Belle. But, like you said, Daed would never try to get home in such weather.”
Belle frowned at her sister’s lack of concern and cast one more look out the window. “I sure hope not.”
As they set up the board game, Belle’s thoughts returned to her father. Ever since their mother had died, long before Belle was old enough to remember her, he had been the sole provider for the family. Unlike other Amish men, he hadn’t remarried, choosing to raise his daughters by himself instead of finding a replacement mother. Some days, Belle wondered if that had been a wise decision. Despite being the youngest of the three children, Belle had grown to take on more of the household responsibilities than her sisters. And with that role came the realization that, if anything happened to their father, there would be a lot of problems for the Beiler girls. Or, more likely, for Belle. Neither Verna nor Susie would work the farm, and it wasn’t as if there were excess part-time jobs in Echo Creek for young women. The mostly Amish town was self-sufficient, with the exception of any non-Amish-produced goods brought in from the neighboring town of Liberty Village.