“What do you think happened?”
“Looked to me like she’d been shot with a pellet gun.”
Melinda gasped. “It’s not pheasant hunting season yet. I can’t understand who would do such a thing.”
He shrugged. “Probably some kid usin’ the bird for target practice.”
Melinda’s heart clenched. To think that someone would kill a defenseless animal for the mere sport of it made her feel sick.
“I thought you might like to try and get the eggs to hatch,” Harold said.
“I may be able to keep them warm under the heat of a gas lamp, but it would be better if I could get one of our hens to sit on the eggs.”
Harold grunted. “I’ve read about such things but have never attempted it before.” He reached for the box and handed it to Melinda. “With all the interest you have in animals, you’d probably make a good vet. ’Course, you’d have to be English for that, I guess.”
Melinda’s throat constricted. Did Harold know what she was considering? Had Gabe let it slip, or had Dr. Franklin mentioned the idea of her becoming a vet to someone?
“I’m taking some of my pencil drawings into Seymour today,” she said, hoping Harold wouldn’t pursue the subject of her making a good vet. “In the past, I’ve sold a few pictures to the gift shop at the bed-and-breakfast there, so I’m hoping they’ll want to buy more.”
Harold reached under the brim of his straw hat and swiped at the sweat running down his forehead. “Wouldn’t think there’d be much money to be made selling artwork around these parts.”
“The owner of the bed-and-breakfast told me that tourists who stay there are usually looking for things made by the Amish.”
When Harold made no comment, Melinda said, “Well, I’d best get these eggs out to the chicken coop. Thanks for bringing them by, and I’ll let you know how it goes.”
Harold climbed into his buggy and gathered up the reins. “Have a nice time in Seymour, and drive safely.”
Melinda hurried off as Harold’s buggy rumbled out of the yard. Now if she could only get one of the hens to adopt the eggs he had brought her.
Gabe was glad his dad had gone to Springfield and decided to close their shop for the rest of the day. That gave him the freedom to take Melinda to the farmers’ market without having to ask for time off. Pap was a hard worker and didn’t close up any more often than necessary. Whenever Gabe wanted a break from work, Pap usually made some comment like, “Them that works hard eats hearty.”
“I work plenty hard,” Gabe mumbled as he headed for the house. He planned to grab a couple of molasses cookies his mother had made yesterday, chug down some iced tea, and be on his way to Melinda’s.
Inside the kitchen, Gabe found his mother standing in front of their propane-operated stove, where a large enamel kettle sat on the back burner. Steam poured out, and the lid clattered like Pap’s old supply wagon when it rumbled down the graveled driveway.
“What are you cooking, Mom?” he asked, washing his hands at the sink.
“I’m canning some beets.”
He sniffed deeply of the pungent aroma. “I wondered if that was what I smelled. Some tasty beets will be real nice come winter.”
Gabe poured himself some iced tea. “Sure is hot out there today.”
His mother turned and wiped her damp forehead with the towel that had been lying on the counter. “It’s even warmer in here. That’s the only trouble with canning. It makes the whole kitchen heat up.”
Gabe grabbed a molasses cookie from the cookie jar on the counter and stuffed it into his mouth. “Umm…this is sure good.”
She smiled. “Help yourself to as many as you like. Your sister Karen is coming over tomorrow, and we plan to do more baking.”
Gabe took out six cookies and wrapped them in a paper towel. “Guess I’ll eat these on my way over to the Hertzlers’ place.”
“Going to see Melinda?”
He nodded. “I’m taking her to the farmers’ market in Seymour.”
“Sounds like fun. Melinda’s a nice girl.”
“I think so.”
“She and I had a little talk one day not long ago before she stopped by the woodworking shop to see you.”
He tipped his head to one side. “Was it me you were talking about?”
Mom chuckled and reached behind the kettle to turn down the burner of the stove. “I was asking her advice on how to keep the deer out of my garden.”
“What’d she tell you?”
“She suggested a couple of things. One was to put some feed out for the deer along the edge of our property.” Mom gestured to the pot of boiling beets. “As you can see, it worked, because I have plenty of garden produce.”
“Melinda’s pretty schmaert when it comes to things like that.” She’s just not so smart when it comes to making a decision that would affect the rest of her life. Gabe glanced at his mother. Sure wish I could talk this over with Mom. She’s always full of good advice and might have some idea on how I can get Melinda to see things from my point of view.
“Are you troubled about something, son?” his mother asked. “You look a bit umgerennt.”
Gabe shook his head. “I’m not upset. Just feeling kind of confused about some things.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Of course Gabe wanted to talk about it, but he thought about his promise to Melinda not to mention her plans to anyone, and he couldn’t go back on his word. “Naw, I’ll figure things out in due time.”
Mom smiled. “I’m sure you will. Now run along and have yourself a good day at the market.”
“I will,” Gabe said as he hurried out the door.
A short time later, he was headed down the road toward the Hertzlers’ place. As he gave his horse the freedom to trot, he thought about Melinda and prayed she would change her mind about becoming a vet. He’d been reading his Bible every night and asking God to show him if leaving the Amish faith was the right thing for either of them to do. So far, he’d felt no direction other than to keep working toward his goal of opening his own woodworking shop. If only Melinda would be content to marry him and stay in Webster County as an Amish woman who looked after needy animals, the way she was doing now. It didn’t seem right that she’d want to follow in her mother’s footsteps and leave the Amish faith to pursue a strictly English career.
By the time Gabe pulled into the Hertzlers’ driveway, he was feeling pretty worked up. What he really wanted to do was tell Melinda exactly how he felt about things, but he didn’t want to spoil their day at the farmers’ market by initiating another argument. With a firm resolve to hold his tongue, he hopped out of his buggy and secured the horse to the hitching rail near the barn. He glanced up at the house, hoping Melinda would be on the porch waiting for him, but no one was in sight. He scanned the yard, but the only thing he saw was Isaiah’s dog, Jericho, pacing back and forth in his new pen.
Gabe meandered over to see Jericho, and the mutt wagged his tail while barking a friendly greeting.
“You like your pen, boy?” Gabe reached through the wire, gave the dog a pat on the head, and then headed for the house. He was almost to the back door when he heard the sound of yodeling coming from the chicken coop.
“That has to be Melinda,” he said with a chuckle.
He strode toward the coop and found Melinda on her knees in front of some eggs that were nestled in a wooden box filled with straw.
“What are you doing?” Gabe asked, shutting the door behind him.
Melinda lifted her head and smiled. “I’m watching to see if one of our hens will sit on some pheasant eggs Harold Esh brought by awhile ago.”
Gabe squatted beside her. “How come he brought you those?”
“The mother pheasant had been killed, and since the eggs were still warm, Harold thought I might be able to get them to hatch.”
Gabe shook his head. “You may as well become a vet, because everyone in Webster County thinks they should bring their ailing, orphaned
, or crippled animals to you.”
Melinda looked at him pointedly. “You really think I should become a vet?”
Gabe could have bit his tongue. Of course he didn’t think she should become a vet. “It was just a figure of speech,” he mumbled.
“I really do like caring for animals,” she said in a wistful tone.
“I know you do.”
“Are you’re still thinking and praying about it?”
He nodded.
“Any idea how long it will be before you give me your final answer?”
He shrugged. “Can’t really say. I’ve got to be clear about things before I can make such a life-changing decision.”
“I understand. I feel that way, too. I don’t want either of us to make a hasty decision.” Melinda pointed to the pheasant eggs lying in the nest of straw. “I wonder how I can coax one of the chickens to sit on these.”
In one quick motion, Gabe reached out, grabbed a fat red hen, and plunked her on top of the eggs. He didn’t know who was the most surprised when the chicken stayed put, him or Melinda.
“She’s accepting them!” Melinda clapped her hands. “Oh, Gabe, you’re so schmaert. I should have thought to do that.”
Gabe took Melinda’s hand as they stood. “Are you ready to go to Seymour?”
She nodded toward the hen. “I’d better wait and see how things go. She might decide not to stay on the nest.”
Gabe’s face heated as irritation set in. “You’d give up an afternoon at the market to stay home and babysit a bunch of pheasant eggs that may never hatch?”
She shrugged.
“If your animals are more important than me, then I guess I’ll head to Seymour alone.”
Melinda’s eyes were filled with tears. “Please don’t be mad.”
Gabe hated it when she cried, and he pulled her quickly into his arms. “I’m not mad—just hurt because you’d rather be out in the chicken coop than spend the afternoon with me.”
“That’s not true.” Her voice shook with emotion. “I do want to go to the farmers’ market with you today.”
He glanced at the setting hen. “Does that mean you’ll go?”
She nodded. “Jah, okay. I’ll check on the eggs after we get back.”
“Since I don’t have to work today, I thought I’d go into Seymour and check out the farmers’ market,” Susie said to her mother as they finished cleaning up the kitchen.
Mama turned from washing the table and smiled. “I think that’s a good idea. You’re always complaining that you don’t get to do anything fun, but going to the market should be enjoyable.”
Susie smiled. “Would you like to go along?”
“I appreciate the offer, but I’ve developed a headache, so I think I’ll go to my room and lie down awhile.”
Susie felt immediate concern. “Are you grank?”
“I don’t think I’m sick; just have a headache is all.” Mama reached up and rubbed the back of her neck. “Probably slept wrong on my neck.”
“Maybe it would be best if I stayed home.” Susie placed the broom she’d been using into the utility closet and shut the door. “That way if you need anything, I’ll be here to see that your needs are met.”
Mama shook her head. “Don’t fret about me, daughter. I’ll be fine once I lie down and rest my head. You go along to the market and enjoy your day.” She patted Susie’s arm. “I insist on it.”
Susie sighed. “Oh, all right. Is there anything you’d like me to pick up while I’m in town?”
“Hmm…” Mama pursed her lips. “Maybe some peanut brittle if anyone’s selling it at the market. I haven’t had time to make your daed any for quite a while, and it’s his favorite.”
Susie nodded. “All right then. If I see any peanut brittle, I’ll be sure to bring some home.” Feeling a sense of excitement, she scurried around to clean off the kitchen counters and wipe them dry. She could hardly wait to hitch up a buggy and head for town. Maybe she would see Melinda at the market. Maybe they could go out for lunch together.
Chapter 16
When Gabe and Melinda pulled into the parking lot at the farmers’ market, Melinda felt a sense of excitement. She’d always enjoyed coming here and remembered several times when she was a little girl and had spent the day with her mother. She thought about one time when she and Mama had met Papa Noah at the farmers’ market, before her parents were a couple. After leaving the market that day, the three of them had gone to lunch at Baldy’s Café, and Melinda had enjoyed Mama’s jokes and listening to country music on the radio.
“Maybe we can eat at Baldy’s today,” she suggested to Gabe.
“Or how about Don’s Pizza Place?”
“Either one is fine, I guess,” she said. “We can look around the farmers’ market awhile, eat lunch, and head over to the bed-and-breakfast where they sell Grandpa’s rhubarb-strawberry jam and some of my drawings. I want to see what’s sold and ask if they want me to bring any more in.”
“That’s fine by me.” Gabe jumped down to help Melinda out of the buggy. “So where shall we start first?” he asked as they walked toward the tables on the other side of the parking lot.
“Wherever you like.”
He took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I like it when we’re not arguing.”
“Me, too.”
They walked hand in hand until they came to a table where an English man had some wooden holders for trash cans for sale. They resembled a small cupboard, but the door opened from the top, and the trash can was placed inside.
Gabe seemed quite impressed and plied the man with several questions. They soon learned that he lived near Kansas City and had been heading to Branson to sell some of his wooden items to a gift shop there. He said he’d heard about the farmers’ market in Seymour and decided to rent a table before he went to Branson.
“I think I could make something like those and probably sell them for a lot less money than his are going for,” Gabe whispered to Melinda as they moved away from the table. “I believe I’ll make one to give Mom for Christmas this year.”
“Have you ever thought that you could make and sell wooden items if you lived in the English world?” Melinda blurted without thinking.
Gabe frowned so deeply his forehead was etched with wrinkles, and Melinda knew she had spoiled their day together.
Gabe gritted his teeth as he and Melinda walked away from the English man’s table. Melinda had obviously not given up her idea of going English, and it seemed as if she was trying to convince him that he would be happy giving up the only way of life he had ever known. Could I be happy living in the English world? he wondered. Would l have more opportunity to have a woodworking shop of my own there, and would I be successful at it if I did? The English man who had wooden trash holders for sale was obviously doing all right. Of course, that didn’t mean Gabe would do well, but it did mean there was a need for well-crafted wooden items in the English world, as well as here in his Amish community.
Gabe grimaced. Why did Melinda suddenly have to decide she wanted to become a vet? Why couldn’t she be happy with the way things were? Maybe I should go see Dr. Franklin and ask if he’ll try to talk Melinda out of leaving the Amish faith.
“Let’s look over there at the table where Mary King’s selling peanut brittle,” Melinda suggested, nudging Gabe’s arm.
“Jah, sure,” he mumbled. Maybe a hunk of peanut brittle would help brighten his spirits. He sure needed something to make him feel better right now.
“Wie geht’s?” Melinda asked, stepping up to Mary’s table.
Mary smiled, her brown eyes looking so sincere. “I’m doing well. How are you?”
“I can’t complain.” Melinda scanned the table full of baked goods, candy, and fresh produce. “Are you here alone, or is the rest of your family around someplace?”
“Ben’s got our two oldest boys, Harvey and Walter, helping him do chores around our place today,” Mary replied. “And the younger children are with Be
n’s sister, Carolyn.”
“Is it hard for you to be on your own here today?”
Mary shook her head. “To tell you the truth, it’s kind of nice. If Dan and Sarah were here, I’d be dealing with them wanting to run around, and then I’d probably end up having to work alone at the table anyhow.”
Melinda chuckled. “That’s how my little brother is, too. He always wants to run around and play when he should be working.”
Gabe cleared his throat a couple of times. “I thought we were going to buy some candy, Melinda.”
“Of course we are.” Melinda picked up a hunk of peanut brittle that had been wrapped in cellophane paper. “If we break it in two, this one should be big enough for both of us.”
“Whatever,” he muttered. Melinda sure wanted to be in control of things. She couldn’t even let him pick the peanut brittle he wanted. Well, there were some things she couldn’t control, and him going English was one of them!
As Melinda and Mary continued to visit, Gabe glanced around the market area. He spotted his friend Aaron across the way, talking to his younger brother, Joseph.
Gabe cleared his throat, hoping to get Melinda’s attention, but she kept right on yakking. Finally, he nudged her arm. “I’m going over to speak with Aaron.”
“Okay. I’ll join you there in a few minutes.”
When Susie stepped down from her buggy and secured the horse to the hitching rail, she spotted Melinda on the other side of the market talking to Mary King. She was about to head that way when she noticed another buggy pulling in. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw Jonas Byler sitting in the driver’s seat.
“I’m surprised to see you,” she said when he jumped down from his buggy. “I figured you’d probably gone back to Montana.”
“Nope, not yet. I thought it would be good if I stayed awhile and spent some time with my family.”
A sense of excitement bubbled in Susie’s chest. If Jonas wasn’t going back to Montana right away, maybe there was a chance he might take an interest in her. “What can you tell me about Rexford, Montana?” she asked, hoping to let him know in a subtle way that she had an interest in him.
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