by Nancy Mehl
“I know,” Eric said. “But the problem is that unless we move quickly, this deal will fold. The investors are looking at some property in northwest Kansas. Lakefront property. Of course, that would be the most desirable choice.”
“Well, maybe they should just buy it and forget about Harmony,” I said.
“They’re thinking seriously about it. It’s much more expensive than Rand’s property, but a better site overall.”
I frowned at him. “Why don’t they just buy some of the property around Trouble Lake? The lake is large, and except for my place and Sam’s, the area hasn’t been developed.”
Eric smiled and picked up his coffee cup. “We looked at that first, but your place and Sam’s are the only privately owned land around the lake. The rest of it is owned by the county, and they’re not selling.” He took a sip of coffee and put the cup down. It had to be cold by now.
“Let me warm that up for you,” I said, rising to my feet. “What about you, Sarah? Can I get you anything?”
She shook her head. “No, thank you. I’m fine.”
As I walked away, I heard Sarah say, “But if you could buy affordable land on Trouble Lake, your investors would probably decide to build here?”
“Absolutely. This area is still their first choice.”
When I got to the kitchen, Sweetie wasn’t there, but the door to the basement was open. She kept an extensive pantry downstairs. I’d found most folks who live in the country have big pantries. When you don’t have a grocery store nearby, you have to stock up for situations just like the blizzard we’d just gone through. Anytime a big storm was predicted for Wichita, the stores ran out of bread and milk almost immediately. I always found that funny. How much bread and milk can anyone use at one time? Well, in Harmony, most women made their own bread and there were enough milk cows around to make sure everyone had all they wanted. Those weren’t the items folks around here stocked up on.
The coffeemaker was still on, so I poured Eric a fresh cup of coffee, added cream, and headed back to the living room. As I entered the room, Eric was telling Sarah about growing up in Mound City, Kansas.
“I’ve never been to Mound City,” I said as I set Eric’s cup down on the table in front of him, “but I had a friend in Wichita who grew up there. She had such fond memories of her childhood. Sounds like a nice place.”
“It is. I miss it. My folks still live there.” He flashed me a grin. “Go, Hawks!”
“You played sports?” Sarah asked.
“Baseball. Nothing like playing for a high school team in a small town. Everyone comes to the games.”
“I grew up in a small town in Nebraska,” I said as I sat down, “and you’re right. The games were the most exciting thing going. People brought their grills and cooked hot dogs and hamburgers before the game. We certainly never went hungry.”
Eric laughed. “I know exactly what you mean.”
“It sounds wonderful,” Sarah said.
I’d heard that a lot of Mennonite children weren’t allowed to play sports as children. Gabe had mentioned as much. Not wanting to make the conversation uncomfortable for Sarah, I changed the subject back to something I’d heard before I went into the kitchen. “Eric, did I hear you say something about your investors having an interest in lakefront property?”
“Well, sure. Anytime you can build a property near a lake, it adds to the value. Especially if you can offer swimming, boating, and fishing.”
“How much land do you need?”
“As much as we can get, with most of the property next to the water,” he said. “I’d want to give a majority of the condos a view of the water with easy access to the shore.”
“I was just thinking that since originally my land was used for farming and I’m not doing that, maybe I could sell off part of it to help the town.”
“You’re very generous. I wish it was the answer, but there’s just not enough acreage. Rand’s place is a little over forty acres, and yours is what…around thirty?”
I nodded.
“Excuse me,” Sarah said softly. “I don’t understand something. Even though Gracie’s land is smaller, wouldn’t your…investors…rather build a smaller community instead of giving up altogether?”
“The problem is that right now they’re thinking about bailing out of the project completely since it seems our original plans won’t work. And it isn’t just the size of the land. Rand’s place was just off a paved country road that connects to the highway. To reach Gracie’s, you have to travel quite a distance on a dirt road. It’s just not as attractive to older residents. My recent experiences in the snow show the importance of well-developed and well-maintained roads.”
“So even if you could buy my place and Sam’s, you still couldn’t move the development here?” I asked.
“Well, I’d have to get the county to pave the road. I suppose if they were agreeable, we might be very interested.” He smiled at me. “If the investors could be talked into looking at the possibility, there’s a chance they’d be willing to offer you a great deal of money. Lakefront property is hard to come by. I’m sure they’d pay a lot more for your land than they would have for Rand’s.” He hesitated for a moment and then frowned at us. “But your property is much closer to downtown Harmony than Rand’s. How would the residents feel about having the retirement community so close to town? The last thing I want to do is bring division to Harmony. This is a very special place.” He shook his head. “On the other hand, having the development closer would definitely make shopping in Harmony more attractive to our residents.”
The prospect of making Harmony stronger appealed to me. If Eric’s project would really help the town, I’d actually be willing to move. But of course Sam and Sweetie would never sell their home or their orchards. This place was in their blood. And I couldn’t stand to see the big red house destroyed. I pushed the idea out of my head. I’d just started to ask Sarah and Eric if they wanted more coffee when I heard the front door open.
I excused myself and hurried to see who it was. Sam stood in the hallway with the door still ajar. He was staring at Eric’s Hummer parked in the driveway.
“What’s he doing here?” he asked when he saw me.
“Well, hello to you, too.”
“Sorry. Just wasn’t expecting to find Eric here. I figured he’d hole up in Council Grove until the highways were in better shape.”
I peered outside. Gabe and John had gotten out of the truck and were coming up the stairs.
“He came to help,” I whispered. “You be nice. He was worried about all of us.”
Sam glared at me but didn’t pursue it.
“I thought you’d be gone all day. Why are you home so early?”
“We weren’t the only ones out clearing the roads. Lots of men are working to make things passable. I decided the best place for me was back here. I have a lot of work to do before the freeze sets in.”
“I guess you’ve been through this before?”
“Yeah, several times. And I’ve lost trees. I don’t want to lose any more if I can help it.”
With his mind on his orchards, at least he wasn’t concentrated on Eric—or so I thought. When we walked into the living room, something in his expression must have alarmed Eric, who looked concerned when he spotted Sam. Sam still hadn’t shared everything he’d said to Eric when he drove him to his truck the night of the storm—just that he’d threatened to kick him out if he tried to explain the awkward situation. If anything else had transpired, both Sam and Eric were keeping it to themselves. I had the distinct feeling it would be best to let it stay that way.
“Gracie says you drove through the snow to make sure everyone here was okay,” Sam said. He hesitated a moment while I prayed he wouldn’t say something I might regret. “Thanks.” Although he more or less mumbled it, I was relieved. Eric appeared to feel the same way.
“You’re welcome,” he said. “I heard on the news that temperatures are supposed to keep dropping. They inter
viewed a farmer near Garden City who was worried about his orchards. It made me wonder if you needed some help.”
Sam sat down on the couch and stretched his legs. I could tell he was tired. “That’s exactly why we came home early. I’ve got to clean out my barrels and set out some smudge pots. John and Gabe plan to help. I could use you, too, if you’re interested.”
“That’s why I’m here.”
At that moment John and Gabe both came into the room. John noticed Sarah up and dressed. The weariness in his face disappeared, and he broke into a wide smile. He opened his mouth to say something but suddenly stopped. Sarah lit up when she saw him, too, but when she observed his hesitancy, she immediately broke her gaze from his and focused it on her father. Gabe didn’t seem to notice.
“Why, Sarah,” Gabe said, “you must be feeling better.”
She offered her father a small smile, but the color that had flushed her cheeks moments before faded. “I am, Papa. Gracie and Sweetie have been such wonderful nurses.”
He walked over to where his daughter sat and grabbed her hand. “Thank you, Gracie,” he said to me. “I’ll have to thank Sweetie, too.”
“Well, you can do that in my kitchen.” Sweetie stood in the doorway, her apron speckled with flour and other ingredients from this evening’s dinner preparations. “You all need some good food inside you before you tackle the orchards. Alls I got right now is some sandwiches, but I’m cookin’ up the best pot roast you ever ate for dinner later on. Now everyone get on in here, and let’s have a little lunch before you go outside.”
As if obeying orders, we all followed her to the kitchen. I went last and was able to see the exchange of glances between John and Sarah. I also caught a warning glare Sam sent to Eric. I shook my head. Two situations with different kinds of emotions bubbling below the surface. Before the weekend was over, I wondered if one or both of them would boil over.
Chapter Eleven
Sweetie’s idea of “a little lunch” wouldn’t meet that definition by anyone’s standards. Thick slabs of turkey on homemade bread topped with pepper bacon and thick mayonnaise was accompanied by creamy red potato salad. And of course, pie. In Sweetie’s kitchen, pie was served like a condiment. You have coffee, you have pie. You have lunch—pie. Dinner—pie. Before bed—pie. I was waiting to come down to breakfast to find a thick slice of peach pie and whipped cream instead of the usual bacon, eggs, and pancakes. I ate half a sandwich, a couple of bites of potato salad, and said no to pie.
During lunch I told Sam and the others that the sheriff had stopped by to pick up our unwelcome guest.
“Seems kind of odd,” Sam said. “But I guess if the coroner can’t get here, there isn’t much choice.”
I shrugged. “He died of exposure. Nothing nefarious about that.”
“Nef-fairy…what?” Sweetie frowned at me.
“Nefarious. Shady.”
“Well then, why don’t you just say shady?” she retorted. “Ain’t no reason to use fancy-schmancy words when plain old proper English will work just as good.”
I looked sideways at Sarah, who wouldn’t meet my gaze. Her short bout of coughing was nothing more than an excuse to cover a case of the giggles. I fought to keep my composure. “You’re right, Sweetie. Sorry.”
John’s raised eyebrow told me he also found Sweetie’s admonition to use “plain old proper English” humorous. There wasn’t a phrase Sweetie couldn’t fracture, and she was incredibly fluent in colorful expressions.
“So just what are we doing this afternoon?” I asked Sam, trying to change the subject before Sarah embarrassed herself.
“We aren’t doing anything. The men are going out to the orchards. You are staying here.”
“Nonsense.” I felt my temper flare. “I can work just as hard as you can.”
“I know that, Gracie,” Sam said patiently, “but Sarah is still recuperating. I think you should stay here with her.”
“I’m fine, Sam,” Sarah said with a smile. “Gracie doesn’t need to watch me. Besides, Sweetie will be here.”
“Only reason I won’t be out there helpin’ in my orchards is ‘cause I need to keep an eye on what’s in the oven,” Sweetie snapped. “Don’t you go tellin’ any womenfolk where they belong, boy. ”
“I’m not trying to tell the ‘womenfolk’ anything,” Sam said with a sigh. “I’m just pointing out that someone needs to stay with Sarah.” He paused. “And watch the food, it seems. Sweetie, you and Gracie work it out between you. Whichever one of you wants to help, get bundled up. It’s cold and getting colder. You’re liable to be looking at frostbite before we’re done.”
“I—I didn’t bring any gloves, and I’m afraid these pants aren’t very thick,” Eric said.
“No problem,” Sam said. “I’ve got the proper clothes you can borrow—if you still want to help. If you don’t, I totally understand.” Maybe no one else noticed the touch of sarcasm in his tone, but I did. I scowled at him when Eric wasn’t looking. I knew what he was up to. He was hoping Eric would give up and leave.
“Thanks, Sam,” Eric said. “I’ll take you up on that.”
I smiled at Eric. Good for him. Sam wouldn’t discourage him so easily. It was obvious Eric really wanted to help. Hopefully today would start to change things between Eric and Sam. I had no idea how long the young real estate developer would actually be hanging around Harmony. It depended on what happened with his quest for land. But however much longer it was, it would be helpful if the two men could bury the hatchet and find a way to get along.
After a brief argument with Sweetie about who would go and who would stay, I won. Or maybe I lost. The jury’s still out on that. The winning point was struck when I pointed out that if I stayed to watch her food, I couldn’t guarantee anything. Fear that her pot roast might not survive—and that any gravy from said pot roast might have more lumps than a prizefighter’s head—sealed the deal. She would stay to watch Sarah and the food, and I would work in the orchards.
I changed into my heaviest jeans and the thickest sweater I’d brought with me. Double socks and my boots seemed to pass inspection with Sam, but he made me wear one of Sweetie’s knit caps and a jacket that was so bulky I was reminded of the little boy in the movie The Christmas Story who complained that after his mother bundled him up against the cold, he lost the ability to “put my arms down.” Feeling like a big, stuffed snowman, I clomped down the stairs and joined the men. We drove both trucks over to the orchards.
The first order of business was to dump the snow out of the burn barrels that were situated at various locations throughout the trees. This was difficult since the snow had blown up next to them, almost cementing them to the ground. Sam worked with me while directing John, Gabe, and Eric to follow our lead. I marveled at how well John and Gabe worked together. It was as if there had never been any tension between them. They seemed to really like each other. Maybe in the end, that was enough of a victory. Still, I couldn’t help but hope that one day Gabe, Sarah, and John would be a real family.
“Hey, pay attention,” Sam barked at me. I realized I’d been staring into a barrel Sam was trying to loosen while I did nothing to help him.
“Sorry, just thinking about Sarah and John.” We were far enough away from the others that they couldn’t hear us, so I didn’t try to keep my voice down.
“You’re wasting your time worrying about it.” Sam grunted as he tried to wiggle the barrel loose. “Sarah isn’t going to leave her faith. And I sure don’t see John throwing in with their Old Order beliefs.”
“You know, the gap between people like Abel and Emily and Mennonites like Gabe and Sarah seems to be closing rapidly. Ida has a phone now. And almost every Conservative Mennonite in Harmony has electricity. I think the old ideas about some of the modern conveniences are changing. I read something the other day that said there really aren’t many true Old Order sects left.”
Sam finally freed the barrel. He and I turned it upside down to shake out the snow. “I’ve liv
ed in Harmony almost my entire life,” he said after we set it back down. “And one thing I’ve learned: Just like with all people everywhere, you can’t put titles on the folks in this town.” He stopped for a minute and stared toward Gabe and John. “They all live by what they think is best for them and their families. Most don’t have television, but some do. Most have cars, but some don’t. Most have electricity, but a very few, like Ida and Gabe, don’t. And everyone respects individual choices. You might be right. Someday soon, some unimportant differences might fade. But the faith of the people here will remain. Gabe doesn’t care whether John has electricity. But he does care that John knows God, and that won’t change. Ever.”
He was right. Gabe and Sarah had made the decision to put God first. Sarah’s feelings for John had been pushed to second place…well, third place actually. Behind her heavenly Father and her earthly father.
A surprised shout rang out from Eric. Sam and I turned to see him backing up from a barrel that was lying on its side. He’d started to set it right side up when he jumped back, tripped, and almost fell. Gabe’s laughter brought us running. One look inside the barrel explained Eric’s reaction. A mother raccoon looked up from a nest she’d made in the barrel. Several baby raccoons snuggled up next to her. The mother’s bared teeth made it clear no one would be removing her and her family without a fight.
“Let’s carefully move the barrel near the barn,” Sam said with a grin. “They’ll be warmer there. We’ve got plenty of other barrels.”
Gabe, Eric, and I watched John and Sam pick up the barrel and carry it as gently as possible so as not to disturb the new family.
“I almost stuck my hand in there,” Eric said, his voice quivering. I couldn’t be sure if it was from fear or the cold.
“Good thing you didn’t, son,” Gabe said. “Raccoons are cute, but they can be vicious. Especially when they’re protecting their young.”