Earl shook his head. “With the trouble you have with your leg, you’d never last eight, six, or even four hours of having to stand on your feet.”
“I could look for a sit-down job, although I don’t know what it could be.”
“There’s no need for that. I’ve been providing for us since we got married, and I will continue to do so.”
“You’re such a nice man—always thinking of me.”
“That’s ’cause I love you, Ginny.”
“I love you too, but please don’t call me Ginny. My first husband used to call me that, but I’ve always preferred to be called Virginia.”
“Okay, got it.”
Virginia didn’t want any reminders of her past or the man she had come to despise. She’d never admitted it to anyone or even said it out loud, but she’d been relieved when her first husband died.
“Sure is a nice evening for a bonfire.” Earl’s comment pulled Virginia’s thoughts aside.
“Huh? What does a bonfire have to do with anything?”
“When I arrived home from work and got out of my truck, I noticed there was a bonfire going across the street. Figured it must be some kind of a young people’s gathering at the Kings’ place.”
She wrinkled her nose. “More horse droppings in the road, no doubt.”
“That could be a good thing. If I go out there and shovel it up, we’ll have more manure for our compost pile.”
She pressed her hands against her ears. “This is not good table talk.”
“You brought it up, not me.”
Virginia shrugged and let her hands fall into her lap. “Guess I did. From now on, I’ll have to be more careful how I choose my words.”
Gratz, Pennsylvania
Dennis Weaver sat in the barn, with a gas lantern above him, staring at his father’s empty horse stall. It was unbelievable to think that the horse had died the same day as his dad.
Dennis, now thirty-one, had loved being around horses since he was a young boy. He had a special way with them too. With a little patience and time well spent, he could get most horses to do pretty much anything he wanted. While Dennis wasn’t what some would call a “horse whisperer,” he had an understanding of them, which led to respect and obedience on the horses’ part.
In time, when many of the Plain people in his community saw what he could do with his own family’s horses, they began to offer him payment to train their horses to pull their buggies. By the age of sixteen, after Dennis finished his eighth-grade education, he trained horses part-time when he wasn’t helping his dad on the farm. As more people moved into the area, his business picked up. Unfortunately, there weren’t enough Amish in the area to provide Dennis with a fulltime income. Even after his dad passed away and his brother, Gerald, took over the farm, Dennis helped out.
His greatest wish was to not only train horses fulltime, but raise them as well. Dennis was convinced, however, that he’d have to move to an area where there were more people in need of his type of services if he wanted his business to succeed. So he’d asked around and decided that Lancaster County would be a good place to move. There was really nothing keeping him here. He had no wife or children—just his mother and four siblings, who were all married and had families of their own.
Dennis felt secure in the knowledge that if he moved away, Mom would be cared for. She’d have his brother and three sisters, as well as ten grandchildren to fuss over and spend time with. Soon after Dad died, Gerald had built a daadihaus for Mom, and then he and his family moved into the larger home that used to be their parents’.
Dennis moved from the empty stall over to where his own horse was kept. “How’s it goin’ today, Midnight? Are ya ready for me to extinguish the lantern?”
Midnight whinnied as if in response, and then the gentle gelding nuzzled Dennis’s hand with his nose.
He grinned and rubbed the horse behind his ears.
Dennis stood by the stall door for a few minutes, contemplating his future. He’d grown up in Dauphin County but was more than ready for a change. Maybe the Lancaster area would be a good place for me to relocate.
Dennis knew only a few people in Lancaster County. He had a friend he’d gone to school with who lived in Ronks now.
Maybe I’ll contact James and see if I can stay with him for a few weeks, until I find a place of my own or a house I can rent. It would need to have enough property where I could train horses and hopefully raise a few of my own.
Although Dennis had saved up some money over the years, he didn’t have enough to pay cash for a home and didn’t want to go into debt. Renting a place would be a better choice for now.
Think I’ll give James a call in the morning and see what he says about my idea to relocate to Lancaster County. If he thinks it would be a good move for me and offers to let me stay there for a while, I’ll pack up my things and make the move by early spring.
Dennis turned off the lamp overhead and strolled out of the barn, letting the flashlight he now held be his guide back to the house. He paused and stared up at the twinkling stars overhead. I have no idea what the future holds for me, but anything would be better than staying here with all the haunting memories from the past that are never far from my mind.
Strasburg
This is one of my favorite recipes. Sylvia spread the crust batter for Cherry Melt Away Bars into a 9” x 13” inch pan. Picking up a quart of cherry pie filling Mom had bought at the store recently, she poured it on top. Normally, when the pie cherries in Mom’s yard ripened, Sylvia and Amy helped to make the filling and processed it all in canning jars. But due to losing their loved ones in the spring and the busyness that followed, they hadn’t done anything with the fruit. So the whole tree had been a happy place for the robins that came into their yard. Hopefully, this year things would go better in that regard and they’d have plenty of home-canned cherry pie filling to use in special desserts.
As Sylvia beat the eggs whites with cream of tartar, she glanced at her children sitting on a throw rug across the room playing with some pots and pans as though they were drums. In times past, this kind of noise would have given Sylvia a headache, but today she wasn’t bothered by the pounding. It was nice to see Allen and Rachel, who were only two and a half years apart, getting along well with each other.
Once the egg whites were stiff enough, she gradually beat in some sugar and vanilla, then spread it over the filling she’d previously put on top of the crust. Before sprinkling chopped walnuts over the top, Sylvia paused to look out the kitchen window. One of her guilty pleasures was walnuts, of which she grabbed a handful to munch on. While pausing to enjoy the crunchy texture and hearty flavor, she saw Mom heading in the direction of the greenhouse and Amy going down the driveway toward the phone shed. They both walked with a spring in their step, with arms swinging at their sides. No doubt they felt the exhilaration of the lovely weather that had greeted them on this twenty-first day of March. From the way Mom and Amy had talked during breakfast, they looked forward to opening the greenhouse today.
Better them than me, Sylvia thought as she sprinkled the nuts and opened the oven door. If I had to work in the greenhouse today, I’d be on edge and thinking the whole time about how my precious little ones were getting along with whomever I had hired to watch them.
Sylvia closed up the bag of walnuts and put it away. Then she tossed the empty cherry pie can in the garbage and began cleaning up the mess she’d made on the counter. When she glanced out the window again, she saw what looked like a mockingbird sitting on a branch in the maple tree. Its feathers appeared to be gray.
Curious, she left the kitchen and found the bird book on the coffee table in the living room. Sylvia thumbed through the index for mockingbirds, eager to know whether the bird she’d seen was what she believed it to be.
She found the correct page and noticed some different colored pictures of mockingbirds. One in particular caught her attention. It looked similar to what she’d seen in the tree, although she cou
ldn’t be sure and would wait to talk to Henry about it.
When Mom and Amy get done for the day, maybe I’ll ask one of them if they’d be willing to keep an eye on the kinner while I take a walk to look for birds. Sylvia placed the book back on the coffee table. If Henry’s not busy this afternoon, maybe he’ll want to get out his binoculars and join me. That would be better, especially since he knows more about birding than I do right now.
Excitement bubbled in Belinda’s soul as she placed the Open sign on the front door of the greenhouse. I hope we have another good year.
She hardly got much sleep last night, with her mind busy thinking about everything that needed to be done. She always had a nervous stomach on opening day. It reminded her in some ways of the first day of school. Belinda knew the feeling would wear off soon enough, and she’d be as good as rain again. What a relief to have winter behind them and be able to do the work she enjoyed so much.
Of course, she had spent some time out here during the colder months, tending to seedlings in pots and making sure the heat in the building remained at an even temperature. Plants and trees also needed watering, but not as often as they did during the warmer months.
Belinda looked forward to their first customers of the day, and she hoped they would stay busy until closing time.
She glanced at the small clock sitting on a shelf under the checkout counter, wondering what was taking Amy so long. She’d gone to the phone shed to check for messages and said she’d come to the greenhouse as soon as she was done. Either there had been a lot of messages that needed to be responded to, or Amy had taken the time to see if their mail might have come early.
It didn’t really matter if Amy wasn’t here at the moment, since there weren’t any customers yet. Henry was still in the barn feeding the animals, but he should be here soon too, and then Belinda would have plenty of help.
While she waited, Belinda walked up and down the aisles, making sure everything was placed appropriately so customers would have no problem finding whatever they’d come in to buy. The shelves full of seed packets had been fully stocked; jars of honey and jam sat ready for purchase; bulbs that needed to be planted in the spring had a place of their own; and all the solar lights, fountains, and outdoor items were positioned so people would see them as soon as they walked through the door. When the weather got warmer, they would move the outdoor items, now in the greenhouse, to a special area outside.
When Jared had no roofing jobs to do this winter, he’d made a small shed with double doors that housed many gift items Sylvia and Amy had made. Even Henry had gotten into the act by painting some horseshoes for people to hang up as decorations. It amazed Belinda what things the tourists would buy because they’d been made by the Amish. At least, that’s what she’d heard many people say.
An image of Monroe popped into her head. She wondered if he would come by to purchase something and ask how they were doing. Belinda wasn’t ready to deal with him. Monroe could be so pushy, and he didn’t take hints too well. Regardless, she’d have to walk that path when and if it happened. For now, she needed to concentrate on running the greenhouse in an orderly fashion.
Once Belinda was certain that everything was ready for customers, she returned to the checkout counter and took a seat on the wooden stool. While she waited for Henry and Amy to show up, she would make a list of some things she hoped to get done in the greenhouse this week, in addition to getting caught up on some chores in her home.
Ronks, Pennsylvania
Dennis grinned at his friend James from across the table. “Your fraa sure makes some tasty pannekuche.”
James nodded as he forked a piece into his mouth. “You’re right about that. Alice’s pancakes are the best. You can tell her how much you liked them when she comes back to the kitchen after feeding the boppli.”
“I will.” Dennis gestured to the newspaper beside his plate. He’d been looking through the ad section to see if there were any homes in the Strasburg area that he could rent. He’d found a few, but none of them had the large property he needed. He could probably move into a smaller house for now and then offer horse training to people in the area, but he’d have to go to their property to do it. If he went that route, the idea of raising his own horses would have to be put on hold.
“Would it be okay if I used one of your horse and buggies for a while today, since mine haven’t arrived yet?”
“Sure, no problem. I’ll be working in my shop all day. I have lots of orders for windows and doors, so I won’t need my gaul or the waegli.”
“Danki, I appreciate that.” Dennis picked up the newspaper. “Think I’ll take this with me today so I can drive by some of the places listed. Afterward, I may do a bit of bird-watching. It’ll be interesting to see which birds are common here compared to what I’ve seen up in Dauphin County.”
“Maybe they’re pretty much the same,” James responded. “Strasburg is only a few hours from Gratz, you know.”
“True, but the lay of the land is different. Some of the birds I saw up there may be scarce down here, and visa-versa.”
“Well, you know more than I do about it.” James pushed his chair away from the table. “I’d best be getting out to work in my shop. If I don’t see you till suppertime, I hope you have a successful day.”
“I hope your day goes well too.” Dennis smiled up at his friend. “Once again, I appreciate you letting me stay here temporarily. With any luck, it won’t be much longer and I’ll be out on my own.”
Strasburg
After checking for mail, and finding none, Amy went to the phone shed and took a seat. What was that I saw moving there in the shadow near my feet? I hope it isn’t a maus.
Amy froze inside the small cubical, until her eyes honed in on what she’d seen. It’s not a mouse—only a toad. I can deal with that. She chuckled and shooed the little fellow out the door.
The green button on the answering machine blinked rapidly, letting her know there were messages. The first one was from Brad Fuller, sharing good news. Sara had given birth to a nine pound baby boy yesterday morning. The infant had been over a week late, and mother and son were both doing well. They’d named their child, Herschel Clarence, after Sara and Brad’s fathers.
Amy smiled. She was happy for the Fullers and looked forward to having children of her own someday. She would call and leave a message of congratulations, and maybe some evening in the next week or so, they could hire a driver to take them to Lancaster so they could see the new baby.
Amy listened to a few more messages from people checking to see what day and time the greenhouse would be opening. She was pleased that folks seemed eager to have the greenhouse up and running for business again.
The last message, although a bit garbled, caused Amy to take a sharp intake of breath. “You need to sell out and move, before it’s too late.”
Amy replayed it several more times to be sure she’d heard the words correctly. Each time she listened, it became clearer that someone wanted them gone.
She sat several moments, feeling rooted to her chair. Who is this person who wants to shut our business down, even to the point of saying we should move?
Once Amy gained control of her emotions well enough to stand on her shaky legs, she flung the door open and ran all the way to the greenhouse. She found Mom inside, sitting behind the counter, but there was no sign of Henry.
“Daughter, your face is whiter than snow.” Mom’s brows drew together. “Is something wrong?”
Amy hesitated. I don’t want to add more worry to Mom’s already full plate. There’s been enough to deal with so far, but she has a right to know.
Making no mention of the message from Brad, Amy told her mother about the threatening call.
Mom gasped and covered her mouth with both hands.
“Don’t you think we ought to let the sheriff know about this?” Up to this point, Mom had refused to divulge the previous incidents to anyone but their immediate family—excluding Ezekiel. She’d re
mained insistent that he should know nothing about the vandalism, for if he knew, he’d insist on moving back to Strasburg.
Mom removed her hands and spoke to Amy in a strained voice. “Tell them what? We have no idea who left that message, so there’s no evidence for anyone at the sheriff’s office to go on.”
Amy shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “Even so…”
Mom leaned forward, lowered her head into the palms of her hands, and massaged her forehead. “When the vandalism stopped last fall, I thought it was all behind us. Now with the phone threat we received, I fear more destruction to our property will follow, and I—I don’t know what we should do.”
“Pray. We need to do a lot of praying,” Amy responded.
“Jah, for sure.” Mom clasped Amy’s arm. “Let’s not say anything to Henry or Sylvia about the threatening message you discovered.”
“How come?”
“You know your bruder—he tends to blab things when he should keep quiet.” Mom shifted on her stool. “And Sylvia would be troubled if she knew about the message. There’s no point in telling either of them because they—especially Sylvia—would only worry.” She rubbed her arms briskly, as though she’d been hit by a sudden chill. “And for sure, we don’t want Ezekiel to know about the phone call we received. You know how he’d respond to that.”
“He’d be ready to sell out and move back to Strasburg.”
“Exactly. So, unless I change my mind about telling anyone, mum’s the word. Understood?”
Amy gave a slow nod. “I understand.”
Tossing another old T-shirt into the bag she held, Virginia scratched her head. Ever since she and Earl had moved here, she’d wanted to go through the closet and discard some of her older clothes but hadn’t taken the time.
She slid a few tops off their hangers. I’d like to go out and do some shopping. Even living in this small community, a gal needs to look presentable.
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