Amish Circle Letters - the Complete Series

by Sarah Price

  Mary Ruth had watched the scene with a combination of pity and amusement. It was too obvious that Leah was a nervous Nellie about anyone watching baby Jacob, fearing that his condition made him more fragile than other babies. Still, it was time for Leah to realize that more than one person could watch her infant son. For Leah to spend the morning with her sisters would do her some good, Mary Ruth was sure of that.

  She was standing in Menno Yoder’s kitchen, thinking about these things when Menno walked through the door. The children had already eaten breakfast and were upstairs tidying up their rooms and getting ready before it was time to help with chores around the house and farm. The clock on the wall ticked loudly and struck the half-hour chime. It broke the silence in the kitchen and she paused for just the quickest of moments to look out the kitchen window, her hand holding a plate that she had just dried as she studied the green leaves on a large tree by the barn. Soon the leaves would change and fall. Winter would be upon them and that was a depressing thought to Mary Ruth.

  Unbeknownst to her, Menno stood in the doorway for a long moment, watching Mary Ruth. As she was contemplating the tree and its giant limbs with fluttering leaves, he was studying her. It wasn’t until she put away the last of the breakfast dishes that he shook his head, too aware that the woman in the kitchen was not his Martha, his deceased wife. A pang of loneliness swept through him. But he realized that loneliness was better than anger. Perhaps he was beginning to heal, he thought.

  When he cleared his throat, she jumped, startled at the noise. “Menno!” she exclaimed, her hand pressed against her chest. “I hadn’t heard you come in!”

  The widower smiled, but it was a small smile, one that was not full of happiness or joy. “I reckon not, the way you just jumped out of your skin!”

  His smile struck her as odd. She didn’t remember ever seeing him smile before. Or attempt to, she told herself. A right gut sign.

  She shut the cabinet door and wiped her hands on her apron. “Did you eat breakfast, then?” she asked nonchalantly. “I fed the kinner already but I can make some more eggs and toasts right quick if you’re hungry.” She knew that he would most likely refuse so she didn’t mind making the offer. He had yet to share a single meal that she had prepared in the five weeks that she had been helping out at the house, after Martha Yoder’s accidental passing.

  Menno didn’t answer right away as his eyes trailed around the room. She wondered what he was looking at and, for the briefest of moments, she followed his gaze.

  Everything was neat and tidy. The floors were clean and the windows free from dust and fingerprints. The sun shone through the glass panes creating a natural light in the room. Mary Ruth had made certain to not change anything in the house from the way that Martha Yoder had kept it. Even the blanket that was tossed over the back of the sofa in the back sitting room was folded exactly as Martha used to do.

  “Ja,” he said softly.

  His response surprised her and she wondered if she had heard him correctly. “Ja what?” she asked, not wanting to take the chance that she understood him properly.

  But she had. He turned and looked at her. There was a gentle peace about his gaze that startled her. “I’ll have some breakfast. That would be right gut, Mary Ruth.”

  Surprised, she quickly hurried about the kitchen, too aware that he had already taken a seat at the table. She wasn’t used to him being a presence in the house. Especially around her. In fact, for the past five weeks, he had done everything to avoid her unless he was yelling at her about getting out of his house, when dealing with his initial anger following his wife’s death. Now, he was seated at the table, waiting for a breakfast plate and a cup of coffee.

  She felt nervous, wondering if he was going to criticize her method of cooking or making the coffee. She had never cooked before a man, at least not one that wasn’t her daed or bruders. Trying to quell the pit in her stomach, Mary Ruth tried to focus as she pulled out the very pans that she had just cleaned and put away. Within minutes, she had bacon frying in one pan and scrambled eggs cooking in the other. She even had the toast crisping on a back burner. When everything was cooking nicely, she poured him a fresh cup of coffee and carried it to the table.

  “I don’t know how you like it,” she admitted, feeling like she was talking to a complete stranger. Indeed, this new Menno was not the same man she had been dealing with for the last five weeks. Was he finally healing?

  “Black is fine, danke,” he replied.

  Black, she thought. Just like her own daed.

  “The children?” he asked as he raised the cup to his lips. He blew on it twice before tasting it. “Um, gut,” he commented.

  “Upstairs,” she answered, turning back to the stove to push the eggs around before they’d stuck to the pan. “I thought to have the girls weed the garden this morning. Not certain about Melvin,” she said. Something tugged at her memory as she said Melvin’s name. What was it that she had forgotten?

  “Sure could use some help from Melvin in the fields this afternoon,” Menno said.

  This afternoon? And then she remembered. “Ja, he wanted to go pony riding with my niece at the Miller farm this afternoon,” she said casually. “But if you need him in the fields…”

  “Nee, nee,” Menno said quickly. “It would be right gut for him to spend time with your niece, ain’t so? Gut to have a friend and some laughter in his life. Been enough sadness to go around for a lifetime.” His voice trailed off at the last sentence and Mary Ruth swallowed, realizing that Menno had come a long way since that first day she had met him. Indeed, he was healing and that was a surely right gut thing for everyone.

  It was later in the afternoon when Steve asked to borrow Isaac’s buggy again. No one seemed to raise an eyebrow over the fact that Steve was borrowing it again and during the middle of the afternoon, at that. For the past few weeks, he had been borrowing the buggy quite frequently. While the family speculated as to what that could mean, no one seemed to question it.

  It took but less than ten minutes for Steve to harness the horse to the buggy. While bridling the horse, he made a mental note that the overcheck connecting the bridle’s crown piece to the harness saddle’s hook was wearing thin and decided to replace it while visiting Samuel’s carriage shop, the purpose of today’s outing.

  The carriage store was only five miles from the family farm. Steve had known Samuel Esh for his entire life and knew him to be a hardworking and honest man with a very good reputation within the community and beyond. Many of the youth purchased their courting buggies from him and Samuel had never let slip when they did. Steve knew that he could trust Samuel.

  “Hullo there,” Samuel greeted when Steve walked into the door of the shop.

  Steve glanced around. The shop was open and full of light from the walls of windows. He could see that Samuel was busy working on several buggies, all with grey tops and large black wheels. “Looking for a buggy to buy,” Steve said, his hands tossed in his pockets as he stared at the one closest to him. He tried to ignore the pounding of his heart inside of his chest. Was he really going to buy a buggy? After all of these years, he thought.

  “Dat’s gut! I sell buggies!” Samuel teased, wiping his hands on his pants. He paused and studied Steve for a moment as if trying to place his face. It only took a moment for the light of recognition to hit him. “You the Fisher boy, not?”

  Steve flushed at being called a boy.

  “Ain’t seen you in here before,” Samuel said, pulling at his beard as if that helped him remember. “You look a bit old for a courting buggy but don’t have no beard, do you, now?”

  “Not married,” Steve admitted, suddenly hating the way that sounded.

  “So you looking for a regular buggy then? Or open top?” Samuel Esh certainly didn’t waste any time before he got right down to business. Steve wasn’t certain if that was good or bad.

  “Regular, I reckon,” he said. “Won’t be needing no courting buggy for long, anyway.” Either she
said yes or she didn’t. But he wasn’t about to be driving around in an open top buggy, regardless of her answer.

  Samuel studied Steve for a moment as if making up his mind regarding some detail about the buggy. Finally, he clucked his tongue as if he had come to a decision. “Reckon this is your first buggy. Must be using a driver for most of your travels but you have an intention to take on a family now, ja?” He didn’t wait for Steve to answer the question as he turned around and walked toward the back of the shop, motioning for Steve to follow.

  “See what I have,” he continued. “Back here.”

  Steve stepped around a beautiful new buggy with shiny black shafts and maroon interior. He wondered who was buying that beautiful buggy. But Samuel Esh led him to the very back of the shop and stopped before another buggy that wasn’t quite finished.

  “Young man was going to buy this one here, but cancelled the order,” Samuel said, shaking his head disapprovingly. “Right gut buggy, too. Solid. Has those new fancy wheels that recharge the buggy battery while you drive. No need to be hauling the battery to the diesel machine to recharge it.”

  “You don’t say?” Steve liked that idea, but realized that such a convenience also sounded expensive.

  Samuel scratched at his beard. “Don’t imagine he’d mind if I sold it to you instead, seeing that he cancelled the order and lost his deposit.”

  “He cancelled it?” Steve asked, wondering why anyone would do that.

  “Ja, cancelled it. Seems his brother was buying a new one from Strasberg and sold him his old one.” It was evident that Samuel Esh didn’t think too much of that decision. “Take a look and see what you think.”

  Steve took a deep breath, not certain what he was looking for in a new buggy. After all, to him, most buggies were the same. They had four wheels, two doors, and windows that opened in the front for the reins to come through and a pair of shafts to hitch to the horse. But he pretended to know what he was doing as he circled around the buggy. He slid the door open and peeked inside, pleased to see a dark, navy blue fabric over the seats.

  “Nothing wrong with that buggy,” Steve said. “When will it be finished?”

  “If I have a buyer? Next week. Just need to paint the wheels and shafts, ja?”

  “How much?” Steve asked.

  “Was $6000,” Samuel said.

  Steve caught his breath at the figure. He hadn’t expected it to be that much.

  “But I’m willing to drop it to $5500,” he said. “Want to get it out of my shop. Coming on fall time…not as many new buggies to be sold. I’ll even throw in a new biothene harness for the horse.”

  Steve looked over at the buggy again. It was well made, that was for certain. And he knew that a well-taken care of buggy could last the best part of thirty years. It might be the only buggy that he’d ever need to buy, especially with that second seat in the back.

  “Next week?” Steve asked, scratching at his neck.

  “Ja. Just needs about six coats of paint on the wood there,” Samuel said, pointing with his finger at the unpainted places. “Maybe by Friday if I get a deposit today.” He winked at Steve. “Could start on the first coat this afternoon.”

  It was a tremendous amount of money but Steve knew that it was also a good investment. An investment in his future, he told himself. And Samuel Esh had one of the best reputations in the area. Certainly he was an honest businessman or else word would have circulated.

  Just as quickly, he thought back to the previous Tuesday when he had picked up Mimi Hostetler in his brother’s borrowed buggy. For the first time, he had actually felt a wave of shame in the fact that he had never purchased a buggy of his own and had to court his girl in someone else’s. What message did that send, he wondered, to her parents who certainly were aware that their daughter was being courted by a man who didn’t own his own horse and buggy? Would they wonder that he couldn’t provide for Mimi, should it come down to that decision? The memory caused Samuel to feel a wave of guilt and remorse. Yes, he thought, buying a buggy now was truly an investment in tomorrow. That “sealed the deal” as the Englischer often said.

  “All right then,” he said and turned to look at Samuel, holding his hand out to shake the older man’s. “Let’s try for next Friday then, ja?” And with that, the deal was made.

  Katie stared at the pony. It was cream colored with a fluffy white mane. Its large, dark brown eyes seemed to stare back at her, as if the two of them were quickly and quietly assessing each other. It was hard to see those chocolate colored eyes as its forelock hung over its face. But the pony seemed to be staring at her, watching her every move with great curiosity.

  Katie was not very experienced with horses but she knew that they had the natural ability to sense the moods and intentions of their handlers and react accordingly. She tried to still her beating heart and stop her palms from sweating. Certainly she didn’t want to pony to sense how nervous she was.

  “Mine?” she asked softly, refusing to tear her eyes from the pony to look at Eleanor who stood by her side.

  “You bet,” the Englische woman answered, her voice cheerful and upbeat. “I’ll need to borrow her back next summer for a spell, but you take good care of her in the meantime and I promise to return her to you in the fall.”

  Katie glanced over her shoulder at Eleanor. “What’s her name, then?”

  “Butterscotch,” the woman said, reaching a hand out to stroke the pony’s white mane. “And she’s quite the good girl.”

  For a long moment, Katie felt as if she was dreaming. For years, she had wanted her own pony to love. Two of her friends had ponies and they rode those ponies everywhere during the warmer months. Katie sometimes watched, fighting the urge to feel envy for her friends. But it was hard to be so good that she didn’t feel a touch of jealousy at their joy. Despite the fact that they let her ride their ponies, Katie knew it wasn’t the same thing. She wanted her own pony, one that she could groom and feed and ride when she wanted to, not when she was granted permission.

  “Butterscotch,” she repeated softly. It was a right gut name, Katie thought. After all, the pony was the color of butterscotch ice cream, that was for sure and certain. “May I groom her?”

  Holding up her hand, Eleanor waved a small bucket that she had hidden behind her back. “You sure can! I even brought you some grooming tools, Katie,” she said. “Just in case you didn’t have any to bring with you: A curry comb, a couple of hard brush, a body brush, a sweat scraper and a hoof pick. You may leave these here so you’ll always have them handy.”

  A broad smile broke out onto Katie’s face. Eleanor had sure thought of everything, she reckoned. Timidly, she reached out to take the bucket then turned back to the pony. Butterscotch, she thought, her heart racing with excitement. My Butterscotch.

  There was a rattle in the driveway of the farm and Katie looked up in time to see a grey-topped buggy driving down the lane. It stopped outside of the open barn door. She squinted and tried to make out who had arrived. When she recognized Melvin climbing out of the buggy, she laughed and waved her hand. “Over here,” she called. “We’re inside, Melvin. Come see the new pony”

  He greeted her with a big grin, quickly assessing the pony. “Wow,” he said, whistling under his breath. “That’s one nice looking pony.”

  Katie beamed.

  “Does she drive at all?”

  Not knowing the answer, Katie looked over at Eleanor who was leaning against the stall door. The Englische woman with long brown hair and frosted spice colored lipstick smiled at her. “I’m not quite sure,” Eleanor admitted. “But you are welcome to give her a try on a pony cart.”

  A deep voice joined the discussion. “Try what?”

  Eleanor glanced over her shoulder at the tall man that entered the barn. Beside him was Mary Ruth who looked even more petite next to the man. “Well, hullo there, Mary Ruth! What brings you here?” Smiling, she moved away from the stall door and quickly embraced her friend. “Come to check the ponies?�
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  “Oh ja,” Mary Ruth nodded. She hadn’t a choice in the matter. Melvin had been anxious all week, checking the calendar each morning to see when Thursday was coming. It was all that he could talk about. “Melvin wanted to see Katie’s new pony,” she explained. “His daed here was kind enough to give us a ride.”

  For a moment, Eleanor looked at Menno, taking in the sight of the man standing beside Mary Ruth. She had heard about the awful accident that had taken his wife’s life and left him a widower, a few months ago. He was a tall man with thick black hair and sad eyes. Yet, despite the sorrow, he was a good-looking man. “I’m Eleanor Haile,” she said, reaching her hand out to shake his.

  He hesitated then grabbed her hand awkwardly. He was clearly uncomfortable meeting the young Englische woman. “Menno Yoder, Melvin’s father” he said, his voice strained and stiff.

  Mary Ruth turned to Menno and forced a smile. “Danke, Menno,” she said. “I’ll be certain to pick up the girls from Leah’s when we walk back.”

  He nodded then turned, disappearing out the open barn door as he headed for his buggy without another word.

  Eleanor frowned and looked at Mary Ruth who merely shrugged and turned her attention back to the pony.

  “That’s a right sweet pony,” she said to her niece. “What’s its name?”

  “Butterscotch,” Katie answered. Then, turning to Melvin, she waved him into the stall. “I’m going to groom her. Want to help?”

  Mary Ruth stepped aside so that Melvin could open the stall door to join Katie. Eleanor motioned for Mary Ruth to move further into the shadows of the barn so that they could talk privately, out of the hearing of the two young children.

  “Saw Anna today,” Eleanor said, her voice low but a smile on her face. “I heard that sister Sylvia was headed to Rachel’s today. Perhaps I could drive you over there after the children are finished?”