Dear to Me

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Dear to Me Page 7

by Wanda E. Brunstetter


  “She needs our help.”

  “We’re gonna have to trap ’em.”

  “They’re just a couple of desperate critters.”

  “Come here, Snow.”

  “Easy now, Cinnamon.”

  Everyone spoke at once, and the animals kept circling the living room. Finally, Noah held up his hands. “Everybody, please calm down.” He turned to Isaiah. “What are the paper sacks for?”

  The boy shrugged. “I don’t know. Gabe asked me to get ’em.”

  Gabe swiped at the sweat beaded on his forehead. “I figured if the four of us each took a sack, we might be able to trap Cinnamon or Snow inside one of the bags.”

  “I believe I have a better plan.” Noah turned back to Isaiah. “Please go to the kitchen and get a broom from the utility closet.”

  Melinda’s eyes grew huge as silver dollars as she grasped her stepfather’s arm. “I hope you’re not going to smack either one of my pets.”

  Faith spoke up. “Only one of them is a pet, Melinda, and I’m sure your daed wouldn’t intentionally hurt either animal.”

  Grandpa Hertzler sank into the closest chair. “Would ya put that broom away? I hate housework; always did.” He shook his head, and his white beard moved back and forth across his chest like the pendulum on the clock above the fireplace.

  “We’re not going to clean house, Pop,” Noah said. “And I don’t plan to do the animals any harm.” He nodded at Isaiah. “Now hurry and get me that broom.”

  The boy shoved the paper sacks at Gabe and scurried out of the room.

  Gabe handed one sack to Melinda, one to Aaron, one to Susie, and kept the one for himself. He crouched down and opened his sack, telling the others to do the same. “If either the cat or the squirrel comes your way, try to scoop it into your bag.”

  Noah shook his head. “I don’t think that’s going to work. I believe my way’s better.” He cupped his hands around his mouth. “Isaiah, where is that broom?”

  “I’ll see what’s keeping him,” Melinda’s mother offered.

  Just then, Isaiah dashed into the room, flung the broom at his father, and scuttled off to one side with an expectant look on his face.

  “Somebody, open the front door!”

  Melinda rushed to do as her stepfather had commanded.

  Gabe groaned. Whatever Noah had in mind, he was sure it would fail. He remained on his knees, waiting for either the squirrel or the kitten to pass his way again. A few seconds later, Cinnamon skittered across the floor in front of Gabe’s paper sack, and Noah’s broom swooshed past the critter’s bushy tail. Cinnamon took off like a flash of lightning and zipped through the open doorway.

  With a pathetic meow, the cat darted under the sofa, and no amount of coaxing on Melinda’s part could bring her out.

  “Just leave her be,” Noah said as he headed for the kitchen with the other adults. “She’ll come out when she’s good and ready.”

  As Gabe stood, his heart went out to Melinda. She looked so dejected, sitting with her head down and her shoulders slumped. What had started out to be a nice birthday party had turned into utter mayhem.

  “Come on, the excitement’s over. Let’s head back to the dining room and finish those games we started,” Aaron said to the others.

  “I’m going to the kitchen to get more cake,” Isaiah announced.

  The children and teens filed out of the room, but Melinda stayed in a kneeling position as she continued to call her kitten. “Here, Snow. You can come out now. The squirrel is gone.”

  Gabe shifted from one foot to the other, unsure of what to do. He thought about offering to go outside and look for the squirrel but knew that would be ridiculous. Cinnamon was probably halfway to Seymour by now.

  For lack of anything better to do, he flopped into a chair and sat with his arms folded, staring out the window at the pouring rain and streaks of lightning while he mulled things over.

  “I can’t believe the way Melinda carried on just ’cause her dumm old bussli got chased by an eechhaas,” Isaiah said as he dropped into a chair at the kitchen table.

  Faith turned from the refrigerator, where she’d gone to get a glass of iced tea for her mother. “Your sister did overreact a bit, but if she hadn’t brought that silly squirrel home in the first place, the whole incident never would have happened.”

  “I’m just glad nothing happened to the bussli,” Faith’s mother put in as she pulled out a chair and sat down. “A wild squirrel is no match for a helpless little kitten.”

  Isaiah grunted. “If you ask me, Melinda cares way too much about all the animals she brings home.”

  Faith couldn’t argue with that, although it wasn’t as if Melinda’s squirrel had gotten into the house and caused such havoc on purpose.

  “I think we’d better find another topic of conversation,” she said as she started across the room with the glass of iced tea in her hand.

  Isaiah pointed to the chocolate cake sitting on the counter. “Can I have another piece of that?”

  Faith nodded. “Help yourself.”

  Isaiah grabbed a hunk of cake and headed back to the dining room to join the other children.

  Faith handed her mother the glass of iced tea then took a seat in the empty chair beside Noah. “There’s still plenty of cake left if anyone wants some.”

  Faith’s mother patted her stomach. “None for me. Thanks to Noah being such a good cook, I ate way too much supper.”

  Noah’s ears turned pink. “It was nothing special.”

  “Jah, it was.” Gabe’s mother smiled. “But then, I would enjoy eating most anything I didn’t have to cook.”

  Everyone laughed, and Gabe’s father needled her with his elbow. “If you’re hoping I’ll start doing the baking and cooking, you’d better think again, Leah, because I can barely boil water.”

  “My wife, Ida, can sure cook up a storm,” Noah’s dad put in. “Fact is, she makes the best rhubarb-strawberry jam around.”

  Faith glanced over at Noah to gauge his reaction, but his placid expression gave no indication as to what he might be thinking. Was Noah embarrassed by his dad’s apparent loss of memory, or did he think it best not to make an issue of it in front of their company?

  “Ida couldn’t come to the party tonight,” Noah’s dad went on to say. “She came down with a cold last night.”

  Faith’s mother looked over at her with a strange expression, and Gabe’s mother did, too. The men just sat there with stony faces. Finally, Noah stood and moved to the other side of the table, where his father sat. “You look tired, Pop. Why don’t you let me walk you home?”

  With a grunt, the older man rose from his chair and shuffled out the door behind Noah.

  “The poor man’s memory really seems to be failing him.” Faith swallowed against the lump in her throat. She hoped nothing like this ever happened to her or Noah when they got old.

  “Come, Snow. Here, kitty, kitty. Come out from under the sofa.” When the kitten didn’t budge, Melinda looked up at Gabe, hoping he might have a suggestion.

  He shrugged. “You heard what your daed said. Leave the cat be. She’ll come out on her own when she’s ready.”

  Melinda released a sigh. “That could be hours from now. Snow’s really scared.”

  “I’ll tell you what,” Gabe said as he scrambled to his feet. “Why don’t we go out on the porch and watch the rain? If there’s no one in the living room, the cat will be more apt to come out.”

  “You could be right.”

  Gabe opened the front door, and Melinda followed him outside.

  “I hope Cinnamon’s okay,” she murmured. “He’s probably as frightened as Snow seems to be.”

  “Maybe so, but you need to remember that the critter’s a wild animal. I’m sure he’ll be fine on his own.”

  “I suppose. His foot’s nearly healed, so he should be okay even if he ran into the woods.” Melinda leaned on the porch railing and stared into the yard. “Some party this turned out to be.” />
  Gabe slipped his arm around her waist. “It’ll be one you won’t likely forget, that’s for certain sure.”

  She nodded. “You’re right about that.”

  “Uh—Melinda, I’ve been wanting to ask you a question.”

  Melinda turned to face him. “What did you want to ask?”

  He reached up and stroked the side of her face with his finger. “I love you, Melinda. I have for a long time.”

  “I—I love you, too.” Melinda could barely get the words out, her throat felt so dry.

  “Would you marry me this fall?”

  Melinda swallowed around the lump in her throat. She had to think—had to stop this roaring rush of emotions and hold on to reason. If she accepted his proposal without telling him about Dr. Franklin’s suggestion that she become a vet, it would be even harder to tell him later on. I must tell Gabe now. I shouldn’t wait any longer.

  Before Melinda could get the words out, Gabe leaned down and kissed her so tenderly she almost melted into his arms. When the kiss ended, he whispered, “If you marry me, I’ll be the happiest man in the world.”

  Her eyes filled with tears and splashed onto her cheeks. He reached up to wipe them away. “I hope those are tears of joy.”

  She nodded. “I do want to marry you, Gabe, but—”

  “I’m glad, and I promise to be the best husband in all of Webster County.” He reached for her hand. “The rain’s letting up, so let’s take a walk now.”

  As the rush of water in the drainpipes became mere drops from the eaves, Melinda’s resolve to tell Gabe about Dr. Franklin’s suggestion for her future melted away. All she wanted to do was enjoy the time they had together.

  “Think I’ll ask Aaron to be one of my attendants at the wedding,” Gabe said as they headed down the driveway, hand in hand. “Will you ask Susie to be one of yours?”

  Melinda nodded. “Probably so, since I have no sisters.”

  “We’ll each need one more person to stand up for us. Maybe we could ask one of our cousins.”

  “There’s plenty of time to decide.”

  “Jah.”

  As they walked on, Melinda noticed the misty clouds that seemed as if they were clinging to earth. On both sides of the driveway, leaves littered the ground where the wet wind had spun and stuck them in place. It almost seemed as if she were in a dream. What would Gabe say if he knew what I was thinking of doing? Would he break our engagement as quickly as he’d proposed?

  “Did you get everything you wanted for your birthday?” Gabe asked, breaking into her thoughts. “Or is there some secret present you were hoping to get and didn’t?”

  “Well, I—” Melinda halted.

  “What’s wrong? Why’d you stop walking?”

  “Don’t move a muscle.”

  Gabe froze. “Is there a poisonous snake underfoot?” he rasped.

  “Relax; it’s not a snake.” She nudged his arm. “Aren’t they sweet?”

  “What?”

  “Twin fawns, to your left.”

  Gabe turned his head just as two young deer walked out of the bushes, not three feet away.

  Melinda inched closer to the deer.

  “Wh–what are you doing?”

  “Shh…”

  She took a few more steps and dropped to her knees.

  One of the fawns held back, but the other deer moved closer.

  Melinda held her breath. Then the most surprising thing happened. The fawn came right up to her and licked the end of her chin.

  When the deer moved away and disappeared into the brush, she touched the spot on her chin where the fawn had licked. “Did you see that, Gabe?” she murmured. “The little deer gave me a birthday kiss.”

  Chapter 9

  Over the next several weeks, Melinda’s emotions swung from elation over Gabe’s marriage proposal to frustration because she hadn’t yet told him that she was considering leaving the Amish faith to pursue a career in veterinary medicine. She knew she needed to say something soon. Although they’d agreed not to tell anyone about their betrothal until they had set a wedding date, speculation about their courtship was bound to get around. And a few weeks before their wedding, they would be officially published during a church service; then everyone would know of their plans.

  To make matters worse, Dr. Franklin had recently given Melinda another orphaned raccoon she’d named Rhoda, and every day at work, the doctor continued to tell Melinda what a God-given talent she’d been given when it came to working with animals. Melinda felt that way, too. More and more she felt the pull to become a veterinarian so she could help as many animals as possible. Yet she loved Gabe and wanted to be his wife. She also loved her family and knew how hard it would be if she decided to leave them. Sometimes Melinda felt like a rope during a game of tug-o-war, being pulled first one way and then the other.

  As Melinda bent over the rhubarb patch in their garden one Friday morning in early June, she made a decision. I must find out if Gabe would be willing to leave the Amish faith with me. If we leave together, it will be a little easier, but if I have to do it on my own, I’m not sure I can.

  “Melinda, have you got enough rhubarb yet?” Grandpa called from the back porch, where he stood with a pot holder in his hand.

  Melinda smiled and waved. “Almost. I’ll be there with it soon!”

  Grandpa waved back at her and returned to the house. He was doing better these days, and Melinda was pleased.

  Two weeks ago, Papa Noah and Mama had taken him to see a specialist in Springfield. After numerous tests had been run, it was determined that Grandpa’s loss of memory was due in part to a malfunctioning thyroid. The doctor said it could be treated with medication, which was good news. Grandpa also had low blood sugar, which could be controlled by his diet. Those two things, coupled with the fact that he’d never gotten over Grandma’s death, had put him in a state of depression and caused some occasional memory loss.

  Melinda was sure things would be better now. Grandpa had recently begun helping Mama make jams and preserves to sell at the farmers’ market, which seemed to ease his sadness. His mind appeared to be sharper already, too. It was a real surprise to see Grandpa spending time in the kitchen, though. Melinda remembered how he used to avoid doing anything related to cooking. She’d heard him tell Papa Noah how odd he thought it was that his youngest son enjoyed baking so much. But now that Grandpa was making delicious jams and jellies, he acted like he’d been interested in working in the kitchen for a good long time.

  Melinda chuckled to herself. “It just goes to show, no one’s ever too old to change their mind about some things.”

  When Melinda had picked the last stalks of rhubarb, she ran up to the house. As soon as she had deposited the rhubarb into the kitchen sink, she headed back outside to check the birdhouse Papa Noah had given her as a birthday present.

  “Maybe there will be a note from Gabe,” she murmured. It had been several days since she’d heard from him, and she was eager to know when they would be going on another date. Seeing him only at their every-other-week preaching services didn’t give them any privacy, and they needed to talk without anyone overhearing their conversation.

  When Melinda reached the double-sided birdhouse, she was pleased to hear some baby birds peeping from one end. Careful not to disturb the little sparrows, she lifted the lid on the side that was now her and Gabe’s message box. She was equally pleased to see that a note was waiting for her.

  Dear Melinda,

  Since the weather has been so warm, I thought it would be nice to go for a drive this evening after supper. Let me know if you’ll be free or not. I’ll be back to check the message box later this afternoon.

  Happily yours,

  Gabe

  Melinda reached inside the box to retrieve the pencil and tablet they kept there and then scrawled a note in reply.

  Dear Gabe,

  Tonight should be fine. Come by around seven. I’m looking forward to our time together, as we have some importa
nt things to talk about.

  Yours fawnly,

  Melinda

  “What do you think of this hunk of walnut for the gun stock I’m planning to make?” Gabe asked as he held the item in question out for his dad’s inspection.

  Pap nodded and ran his fingers over the block of wood. “Looks like it’ll work out fine. Always did like to have a hunting gun with a well-made stock.”

  Gabe smiled. Maybe this will show him I’m able to make more than simple cabinets, birdhouses, and feeders.

  “Are you expecting to do some hunting this fall?” his father questioned.

  “Jah, and I hope to use my new gun.”

  “Sounds good, but any hunting you want to do will have to be done on your day off or after the shop is closed for the day.” Pap picked up a stack of work orders and thumbed through them quickly. “We need to get busy with these jobs. You’ll have to work on your gun stock during your free time, too.”

  Gabe frowned but set the piece of wood aside. If he worked on his own projects after hours, he would have less time to court Melinda.

  He thought about the note he’d left her earlier, saying he would be by this evening to take her for a buggy ride.

  Melinda had just started setting the table for supper when Papa Noah entered the kitchen wearing a worried expression on his face.

  “Where’s your mamm?” he asked.

  “Over at Grandpa Hertzler’s side of the house. They’re finishing up with the rhubarb-strawberry jam they’ve been making today.”

  “Do you know if we’ve got any hydrogen peroxide in the house?”

  “I think there’s some in the cupboard above the sink. What do you need it for?”

  “That horse I bought a few days ago has a cut on her back leg. At first, I thought I’d have to call the vet, but after checking things over real good, I realized the cut isn’t too deep. I think it’s something I can tend to myself.”

  “She didn’t have a cut leg when you bought her, I hope.”

 

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