Mary peered over Hope’s shoulder toward the dining room then focused on her sister. “I’ve only seen his little sister lately. Mercy said he’s cranky as a one-legged rooster. Sets himself on the porch every day with his big old cast and yearns to be out in the fields with his dat.”
“I need to go over there,” Hope said.
“It’s going to look mighty odd if you visit Abram alone.” Mary studied her sister’s face. “So it’s true? You’re serious about him?”
Hope cheeks grew warm, and their redness would give her away for sure. She turned to plunge her hands into the sink. “Hand me those plates, will you?”
“I knew it! You are sweet on him. Do Dat and Mamm know?” Mary’s eyes shone.
“Abram and I have conversed. I don’t think it’d be odd for me to go visit a friend who is hurt. Might even take some brownies.”
“Take your sugar cream pie. That will get him courting you for sure!”
“Mary, you’re awful,” Hope teasingly scolded, secretly pleased at the compliment.
“About as awful as you for liking a boy and not telling your sister.”
The two of them laughed, and Hope realized just how much she’d missed Mary over the past weeks.
****
Hope didn’t have a free moment until it was so late in the evening, she couldn’t consider stopping by the Lambrights. After the dishes were finished, she, Mary, and Ann had shown Sally and Jack around the farm. Then Ann insisted they play a quick game of four-square before going in for the night.
After evening prayers, Ruth served them hot chocolate on the porch and Dat joined them, telling stories of his childhood. Mamm stayed inside, keeping herself busy with some mending. She claimed there wasn’t enough light out on the porch to do a proper job.
Hope suspected Mamm simply didn’t feel comfortable joining them. Again, she wondered what had happened between her mamm and Priscilla, and what had made Priscilla flee the community and never return. Priscilla had been Mamm’s sister, and it couldn’t have been easy on Mamm to discover there was a niece and nephew she knew nothing about.
Truth be told, the discovery hadn’t been easy on anyone.
Jack sat on the porch bench next to Ann. No one but Hope seemed to notice how quiet he was. But then, Ann chattered enough for all of them. Hope sipped her hot chocolate and gazed across the lane to fields that stretched farther than her eye could see in the growing dusk. Crickets chirped and their echoing calls blended with the buzz of cicadas from a nearby oak tree.
Did Abram even know she was back? She and her cousins had left Ohio sooner than planned, and she hadn’t had a chance to get a letter off to him. Of course, she might have arrived home before the letter anyway. Hope closed her eyes and imagined Abram sitting on the porch every day full of frustration at not being able to work. Her heart hurt with the thought. Abram was made for work in the fields, and he felt most at home there—with the animals, the land, and the crops.
A warm glow spread through her, and a smile played on her lips. Dat reached over and patted her arm with his calloused hand. “Mighty glad to have you home, daughter.”
Hope opened her eyes and smiled, surprised at his unusually loving words. “Thank you, Dat,” she whispered.
With a small, embarrassed cough, he looked away.
Just like her own dat, Abram would be a wonderful father to their bopplis. She wasn’t one to hurry things, but she loved children, and would happily welcome a boppli however soon God saw fit to bless them.
Both Sally and Jack were fading, their eyelids drooping. Ruth’s rocking chair creaked as she stood. “Time we got you children off to bed. Hope, make sure everyone’s well settled.”
“Jah. Come on upstairs,” Hope said. She rose and led everyone into the house.
Perhaps she could arrange to see Abram in the morning. Maybe Mamm would like to visit the Lambrights with her. Hope decided to make a sugar cream pie as Mary had suggested. Nothing should seem out of the ordinary if old friends spent a bit of time catching up. And if Abram was on the front porch, well, Hope could dally there without suspicion.
****
As soon as Mamm came in from picking a bushel of tomatoes, Hope broached her idea. Mamm’s eyebrows raised, and her eyes turned sharp and assessing. She set the tomatoes on the kitchen counter. “You’ve hardly been back five minutes, girl, and already you want to go calling?”
Hope’s cheeks grew warm. “I heard Abram Lambright had an accident, and I thought it’d be neighborly to check in on him. And to see Mercy and the others, of course.” She rushed to add.
“Mercy and the others, huh?” Mamm wiped her hands down her apron and tilted her head. “Is that a sugar cream pie you’re making?”
Hope nodded. “It’ll be done in an hour. Can we go then?”
“Abram Lambright is a fine young man,” Mamm said, taking a tomato from the top of the basket and shining it on her apron. “Your dat and I were talking about him just the other day. A hard worker, too. Will make a right fine husband for some sweet girl.”
Hope turned to the sink and began scouring her baking utensils.
Mamm gave a small chuckle. “All right, our Hope. We’ll go. Would you like to bring your new cousins?”
Hope’s hands paused in the suds. She’d wanted to go alone with Mamm so she could talk to Abram in private, but how would that appear?
“Of course, Mamm.” Hope gave the plastic measuring cup a vigorous scrub. “And Mamm, we have to arrange school for Sally and Jack. Soon.”
“I reckon we do. Don’t see the point, though. Eighth grade is schooling enough. Always has been.”
“Mamm, they’re Englisch.”
“By blood, they’re Amish,” Mamm stated and walked from the kitchen.
Two
Sitting next to Mamm in the buggy, Hope’s stomach fluttered as if filled with fireflies. She clamped her lips together to keep from giggling with excitement and held the warm pie on her lap with potholders, not having wanted to wait for it to cool before heading out. Mamm was none too happy with the rush.
“No one visits this early in the morning, Hope. People have chores to see to.”
“That’s so, Mamm, but this way we get our visit finished and then can get on with our work the rest of the day.”
“Get the visit finished, huh? Ach, you’re not fooling anyone, you know.” Mamm clucked at their road horse, Chocolate. “Nice of Mary to show Sally and Jack how to tend the chickens. Shame, though, they couldn’t come with us.”
The sun was already high and hot. Hope wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead and decided it might be best to keep quiet the last few minutes of the ride so as not to give anymore of her eagerness away.
Chocolate trotted down the Lambright’s drive, and there he was, just like Mary had reported. His left leg, covered with a bulky white cast, was propped on a low wicker table. When Mamm reined Chocolate to a dusty stop, Abram leaned forward in the rocker, grinned, and straightened his shoulders. His dark hair fell gently over his left brow, and he raised his hand in greeting.
He pulled his leg off the table and grabbed his crutches to stand. “Can I take care of Chocolate for you?” he called, his voice deep and cool.
“Abram, you sit right on back down,” Mamm scolded. “I think after all these years I can see to my own horse.”
Hope slid carefully out of the buggy, balancing the pie, her heart beating faster. She glanced at Mamm, who had tossed the reins over the hitching post.
“Won’t be staying long,” Mamm announced, whether for Abram’s benefit or Hope’s, it wasn’t clear.
Martha Lambright came to the front door, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. She was all smiles as she greeted them. “Well, Elizabeth Lehman and Hope. How nice of you to come by.” The screen door gave a loud squawk as she opened it and beckoned them inside.
Hope handed her the warm pie. “Think I’ll stay outside and chat a minute with Abram,” she said.
Martha took the pie with one hand a
nd waved a chubby arm toward her son. “You do that. He’s bored out of his mind. Could do with some company.” She looked down at the pie. “Why Hope Lehman, I declare. Everyone knows your sugar cream is the best in the district. Thank you, child.”
Hope reddened at her words, and Martha and Mamm disappeared into the house, already chatting about the upcoming harvest.
“Hope,” Abram said, his voice thick with emotion. “It’s fine to see you.”
Hope pulled the porch bench closer to his rocker and sat. “Ach, Abram. I’m so sorry. Does your leg hurt?”
His eyes were intent on hers, and the affection there made her breath catch.
“Nee. Not much anymore.” He shrugged.
“How did it happen?”
Abram raised his head and studied the porch ceiling. When he looked at her again, his eyes were moist.
“It was Sprint. I was hitching her to the buggy like I’ve done a million times, and she gave out. Just gave out. Collapsed. I didn’t move in time. When Doc Milligan came, he said she had an aortic aneurysm.”
“She fell on you?” Hope covered her mouth.
“Against my leg. Poor girl. It wasn’t her fault.”
“And she died when she fell? We all knew she was old, but it’s so strange. And too quick.”
“Way too quick,” Abram said. He shook his head and rubbed the arms of the rocking chair. “Poor Sprint. We couldn’t do a thing for her. Doc said her aorta was weak, and it ruptured. We didn’t even know there was something wrong until it was too late. Doc said that’s the way with an aneurysm.”
Abram took a long breath, and Hope knew he still mourned his old mare.
“And your leg?” Hope tensed, fearful of his answer.
“Sprint broke my tibia. She hit me on the way down. Praise Gott, I didn’t catch her full weight. The doctor decided against surgery and casted it up.” Abram paused and took a deep breath. “But he told me I could lose knee motion and stability. And there might be arthritis—long-term arthritis.”
He forced a smile, and Hope could see the effort it cost. He continued. “Whoever heard of someone my age with old folks’ arthritis?”
He knocked on his cast, as if trying to make light of it.
Hope scooted back, and her eyes searched his. “But it’s not for sure, Abram. The doctor just said maybe, right?”
“I’ll need physical therapy.”
Hope blinked, absorbing the news, and it was a moment before she spoke. “All right, then. In due time, you’ll get the cast off and have therapy, and you will be good as new.” She leaned forward and grabbed his hand. “Good as new. Do you hear me, Abram Lambright?”
He dipped his head and a heaviness fell over him. “I’m sorry, Hope. I haven’t been to the farm, our farm, hardly at all. I wanted to have so much more done.”
“But I’m here now, and I can help.”
“How would we explain that? You helping me with the house.”
“Surely everyone’s guessed that you’ll be married. Why else would you have bought the place?”
“Perhaps,” he said. “But you know it’s not our way to make it known till we’re published.”
“Mamm suspects something.”
“Did you tell her?”
“Nee. But she has eyes.”
Abram reached out and took her hand in a warm squeeze. “I feel rotten being laid up like this.”
“Abram, we can figure it out. I don’t care what shape the house is in. I just want to marry you and make a home.”
Abram shook his head. “Do you have any idea of the expense? How this is going to set me back?”
The muscles around his mouth tightened, and his eyes grew shadowed. “I won’t have the money to fix up the house.”
Hope pressed her hand to her lips and gazed across the yard to the tasseled corn. If she was going to be Abram’s wife, she couldn’t be a child who fussed when things didn’t go her way. And she had to be Abram’s wife. Her love for him filled her with such intensity that sometimes it was like a sharp pain, welling up through her.
She sat a bit straighter, and her resolve hardened. “We’ll figure it out. I can work.” Her mind searched for a job idea. Many Amish found positions with the Englisch in town. More than a few of her friends served in restaurants, and some of the men worked in factories. She would find something, too. Anything to make this work. Abram caught her hand and pulled it to his lips.
“Hope,” he murmured. “I love you so. But, nee. Nee.”
She sat back, rebuffed. “What do you mean?”
“We can’t start a marriage like that. With me out of commission, and you working to try and support us.”
“That’s not what I meant!” Hope’s words rushed forth. “I will help. That’s all, just help. Of course, you won’t be out of commission. Don’t say such things!”
“Don’t you understand? At this rate, I won’t be able to make payments.” He sat back and his breath seeped from his lips.
She shook her head, and her determination grew. “We can work it out. I know we can.”
He showed no signs of relenting. “I won’t do it. For two years, I’ve watched my folks struggle. I’ve watched Dat work himself sick trying to dig out of his financial hole. I’ve watched Mamm put on a happy face and then cry when she thought no one was around. No way I’m putting you through that. Nee, Hope. We’ll have to wait a year to marry, pray my leg heals and I don’t lose the farm.”
Hope stared at the stubborn man before her, noted the dogged set of his jaw and the firm look in his eyes. She got it, she did. She understood every word of his reasoning, and she knew the Lambrights had suffered greatly.
But that didn’t mean it would happen to them.
She tightened her lips. She’d been taught since birth that in a family, she must obey the man’s decisions. And Abram was her fiancé, even though their families didn’t know it. She needed to honor his decisions, just as she honored her dat’s and would honor a brother’s if she’d had one. She bowed her head and prayed silently, asking for God’s help. She surely needed it, for everything within her cried against being obedient.
“Hope,” Abram’s voice was tender now. She looked up at his softened expression. “I’m sorry. But we have to do this right.”
“We could marry and stay with my parents,” she whispered. “Lots of young couples do it.”
“Your dat has just taken on two new mouths to feed. He doesn’t need one more—especially one that’s laid up.”
Tears welled in Hope’s eyes, and she couldn’t blink fast enough to make them disappear. “All right, Abram.”
She stood and ran her hands down her apron. “But may I look for work? See what’s available? I can do that much, can’t I?”
Abram tipped his chin and stared up at her with a mixture of exasperation and admiration. Hope held her breath, wondering which emotion would win out. Finally, he shook his head. “If you could only see your face, Hope. It’s priceless.”
He chuckled. “Seeing you today was like a breath of spring after a blast of winter. You give me hope again.”
She snatched up the edge of her skirts and stepped to the screen door. “Well, Hope is my name,” she said, and her voice was so uncharacteristically saucy that she blushed all the way into the kitchen to find her mamm.
****
There was still an hour of light after the evening chores. Hope ran out to the barn and pulled her mamm’s old bicycle from behind two spare buggy wheels. Now, if she could only get away with no one noticing.
She raised her skirt a couple inches and slid onto the narrow padded bicycle seat.
“Where are you off to?” Sally asked from the barn door.
Hope balanced on one leg. “Just going for a ride.”
“I wanted to meet Abram today, but Ruth seemed determined that Mary teach me about chickens. After that, I had to learn about weeding the garden.” She studied the palms of her hands. “I’m going to have major blisters.”
She
looked at Hope. “When are you going back to see Abram? And can I come?”
Hope smiled at her interest. “Of course, you can come.”
Sally stepped inside the barn. She was thin, too thin, and the dark circles under her eyes only pronounced her grief-stricken state. She looked ill, and worry for her surged through Hope.
“Can I go with you now? Is there another bike?”
Hope nodded her head toward a second bike hiding behind the wheels. “But I think one of the tires is low,” she warned.
Sally rolled out a well-used bike, and sure enough, the back tire was nearly flat. Hope climbed off her bike to reach a tire pump on a shelf. “Do you know how to use this?”
Sally stared at her as if she were daft. “Uh, yeah. I’ve been riding bikes since age three.” Her eyes narrowed, and she gazed off through the barn door. “I’d have my driver’s license by now, too, if Mom hadn’t…”
She stopped, coughed awkwardly, and knelt down to fasten the pump onto the tire. “Give me two minutes. Where are we going?”
“You won’t tell?”
Sally gaped at Hope. “We’re sneaking somewhere? You’re actually doing something bad?”
Her tone of excitement gave Hope pause.
“Nee, nee, of course not,” Hope said. “I just don’t want it announced.” She was annoyed with herself for taking Sally into her confidence, but the girl looked so pathetic, she couldn’t help it. Besides, Hope was doing nothing wrong. She simply wanted to peek inside the old Miller farmhouse.
“Okay. It’s good,” Sally said, dropping the tire pump to the side. “Let’s go.”
Both girls wobbled slightly over the gravel patch outside the barn. Then they got up some speed and raced out of the drive and onto the road.
“You never said where we’re going!” Sally peddled furiously and sped ahead of Hope.
“Wait for me!” Hope called. She’d never gone this fast on a bicycle, and she loved it. She caught up with Sally.
Sally’s dark hair flew out behind her. She took her feet off the pedals and stretched her legs straight out in front of her. She laughed and coasted and glanced at Hope with what looked like relief.
Amish Romance BOXED SET: Amish Days: Hope's Story Page 7