Where Love Grows

by Jerry S. Eicher

  Maybe he was interested but deliberately taking things slowly, giving her time to adjust, to get over Thomas. But that didn’t seem like Steve. Well, at least she wasn’t yet dreaming about Steve—if she ever would. She could remember back in school sitting at her desk for long stretches while thinking only of Thomas. Studying his face across the room until Thomas would look up. And then the red would rush all over her face. Steve didn’t inspire any of that.

  Susan stopped short, remembering where she was. What would Mamm think if she knew what she was thinking? Probably Mamm would think the work and the sorrow were addling her mind. And maybe they were.

  Steve had worked here since the spring of the year, but Susan had never given him a thought as someone like...a potential husband. The thought sent a shiver up her back. Such a thing was completely out of the question. And even if Steve had an interest in her, which he probably didn’t, was she really interested in him that way? Not really. Not when it came right down to it. There weren’t enough stars in his eyes or in hers. Not like Teresa had for James. Now there was a couple to model a life after. Sweetness in a person or in two persons. And so in love with each other.

  Did Da Hah make such unions twice? Not likely. They were probably the only ones privileged to experience such devotion for each other. James and Teresa…and perhaps Thomas and Wilma. They had looked so in love the other Sunday night at the hymn singing. Sparks flew between them.

  Hearing a noise, Susan turned around. Mamm was in the doorway of the kitchen, wiping her eyes.

  “I really should be helping,” Mamm said. “I can’t stand sitting out there while you work in here all by yourself. Maybe I can bring things up from the basement for you. That’s not the same thing as making the food.”

  “Mamm,” Susan kept her voice firm, “I know how you must feel, but no, you can’t help. I don’t want to pretend you didn’t all day. You know how that would feel. So please don’t think about it. You need to find something else to do, like the wash or something. In fact, that would be a great idea. Put some wash on the line.”

  “This isn’t right,” Mamm muttered, leaving to come back with a hamper half-full of laundry from her bedroom.

  “You can’t take mine from upstairs,” Susan reminded her.

  “I didn’t get your wash. My sins would find me out if I did, you know. Hanging your things on the line for all the world to see.” Mamm went out the washroom door, and Susan heard her clump down the basement steps.

  A while later, the washroom door behind her opened, and Susan started. She whirled around to see Daett standing in the doorway.

  “My poor, brokenhearted daughter.” Daett walked up to place his hand on her shoulder. “How many times I have said this, but I will say it again. I’m so sorry, Susan. None of this is your fault, and yet you have to suffer along with us.”

  “You and Mamm mustn’t go to the barn-raising today,” Susan said. “It would be too painful. All you could do is stand around and watch.”

  “I’ve been thinking the same thing. I’ll go tell Mamm. She’s in the basement from the sounds of it. She’ll be disappointed.”

  “Yah, but it can’t be helped. She’s doing the wash.”

  Daett’s eyes swept over the food preparation before he left. “Perhaps I can help her with a load of laundry. It seems that’s all I’m fit for anymore.”

  “Oh Daett!” Susan threw her arms around his neck. “Can’t we all just go away someplace? Somewhere until this is over? We wouldn’t have to see anyone, talk to anyone. Please, can’t we?”

  “You know I don’t run away from my problems,” Daett said, holding her tight. “It’s not the way Da Hah would have us handle things. Bearing our sorrow is part of what this is about. It cleanses the soul, Susan. Even though you may not understand now, this is for the best.”

  “Why do I always want to run away, Daett? I ran away from Thomas, and it didn’t help. I can’t seem to stop wanting to run again.”

  “Da Hah will have His way, Susan. What He’s doing in your heart, I don’t know. I can only say I’m sorry for the pain I’ve caused. I wish I had never sinned. But I have, and now others must suffer with me. May Da Hah give all of you a rich reward for your love for me. And also for your mamm. She is a woman I never deserved, and now I know I never will.”

  “We all love you, Daett, so please don’t be so hard on yourself.”

  He smiled and held her at arm’s length. “You’re my sweetest daughter, Susan. The wild one, yah, but the most loved also. You have always been like a young filly who loves the open field with the wind blowing through her mane as she runs. Someday you will find a man worthy of your heart.”

  “So you don’t hold it against me that I couldn’t keep Thomas?”

  “Ach, Thomas.” Daett smiled. “Maybe it’s a relief off my mind that I don’t need to train that young boy as a farmer. Watching Steve work has set my mind to seeing things I hadn’t noticed before.”

  Susan grimaced. “Perhaps your lack of vision came from having only girls around?”

  “Yah, perhaps. A boy, in order to run a farm, should be raised on a farm. He should feel the dirt between his toes from the time he can walk. He should be up with his daett to help with the milking before he goes to school. Those were things Thomas never experienced. I believe losing Thomas was for the best, Susan.”

  “Oh, Daett, thank you!” Susan flew into his arms again.

  He held her, clucking with his tongue until she laughed.

  Susan pushed herself away as a thought rushed through her mind. “Do you know what you should do soon, Daett?”

  He looked at her, tilting his head.

  “Write Donald and invite him for Thanksgiving Day. All this horribleness will be over by then. We could have a big meal with Teresa and James and all our family. We can invite as many as will fit in the house.”

  “You think this would work?” Daett asked.

  “Of course it would,” Susan assured him. “And we’ll have something to look forward to.”

  “What if Donald finds out about this…about what we’re going through? He will feel responsible for our misery.”

  “No one has told him, and no one will.”

  A trace of a smile crept into his face. “You do think of the most wonderful things. I will think about it.”

  “I think Mamm will agree. Do you wish me to ask her?”

  “No, I will.” Daett’s face darkened. “But if Donald is too much for her, we will not do this. Otherwise, I will write the letter soon so Donald can prepare for the journey. That is, if he sees fit to come.”

  Susan said nothing more as she watched her daett’s bowed back disappear out the washroom door and heard him move down the steps. Low voices soon came from the basement, and she closed the door, rushing about again. If the pies were to be done in time, the dough needed to be in the oven right now.

  Taking out the pie pans, she thinned the dough with the roller. With a few quick glances, she guessed at the size. She cut the dough into squares and flipped the thin sheets over the pan. After trimming the edges, she was pressing the ridges in by hand when she heard a knock on the front door.

  Whoever it was would either have to wait or come in without being asked. And sure enough, the door opened and footsteps soon came across the hardwood floor. Steve appeared in the kitchen opening, peering in.

  “Gut morning,” he said.

  She smiled. “I saw you came by this morning.”

  “I had to see if everything was okay since I won’t be back today.”

  “Daett could have taken care of things.”

  “Yah, I guess.” He was studying the pie crust. “Those are nice. Even my mamm couldn’t do better than that.”

  Susan didn’t look at him. “But you haven’t tasted them.”

  “They look good from here.”

  “Looks don’t make a pie.”

  Steve laughed. “Looks help. So can I take anything over to Ada’s for you, since I assume your mamm and da
ett aren’t going today?”

  “No, but thank you. I’m not close to ready yet. And I would think you’d want to be down at Ada’s when they start building.”

  “I suppose so. The yard is already full of buggies.”

  She didn’t say anything more as she rushed about.

  “This will all be over soon,” he said. “And Da Hah will make us all better for it. That’s the promise He gives.”

  She started to say something, but Steve was already gone, the sound of his footsteps going out the front door. How does he understand? she wondered. He was such a gut man.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Two hours later Susan drove the open buggy the short distance to Ada’s place, her pies in the back, along with a casserole wrapped in a quilt. The day had kept its promise, the sun beating down without a cloud in the sky. Reuben couldn’t have chosen a better day for his barn-raising. Already the men had the skeleton of a wall up.

  Teresa came running out of the house before Susan stopped at the end of the walk. “Oh, Susan, I was so worried about you. Ada said you would still be working on the food and not to worry, but I almost walked over to check on you.”

  “You should have!” Susan said, jumping down from the buggy. “I miss you around the house.”

  Teresa gave her a hug. “Where’s Mamm?”

  Susan winced. “It’s better if she and Daett don’t come. They wouldn’t be able to help with anything.”

  “This is still so awful, Susan. I can’t get used to it.”

  “I hope your mamm hasn’t heard about this.”

  “I haven’t told her anything. I’m sure she wouldn’t understand.”

  “Sometimes I don’t understand myself.” Susan loaded her arms with pies. Teresa grabbed the casserole from under the quilt, and they made their way to the house, leaving the horse standing in the driveway with the reins hanging loose.

  Ada met them at the door and ushered them into the kitchen. Susan and Teresa squeezed through the crowd of women and deposited the food on the counter. When they returned to the buggy, one of the young nephews was standing by the horse’s head and holding the reins.

  “Thank you, Jonas,” Susan said. “Toby usually stays in place, but you never know with all this racket going on.”

  “It’s noisy,” Jonas agreed. “And Daett had his horse run out to the barn last week. I didn’t want you to wreck your buggy.”

  “Did your daett’s horse harm anything?”

  Jonas shook his head. “We caught him pretty quick.”

  “This was thoughtful of you. Do you want to lead the horse out to the fence after we’ve unloaded everything?”

  “Yah!” Jonas’s face was shining. “I’ve done that before for Mamm.”

  While Jonas waited, Susan and Teresa took the last of the food out of the buggy. With their arms full, they watched for a moment as Jonas left, leading the horse with the buggy bouncing over the rough field beyond the lane.

  “Do you think he’ll be okay?” Teresa asked. “He’s so young.”

  “Our boys grow up fast,” Susan said, turning to lead the way into the kitchen where they set the rest of the pies on the counter.

  Ada had followed them into the kitchen. She now ordered, “Okay, out you go! You’ve worked hard all morning. Go out and watch what the men are doing.”

  Susan stood her ground. “I want to help where I can.”

  Teresa pulled on her arm, and after a moment Susan gave in. The two walked out to the porch. Spending time with the community women felt gut, Susan thought. Even if Mamm and Daett were shut away at home. That was a terrible feeling to have—and selfish no doubt. But there it was.

  Ada had followed them and now whispered in Susan’s ear, “Did Mamm make any of the food?”

  “No, I made sure of that.”

  “Just checking. It’s just that I noticed you brought the same amount Mamm usually brings.”

  “That’s what I tried to do,” Susan said. “But I worked hard, and I made the food myself.”

  “Okay, I believe you. I had to ask in case someone asks me.”

  “Come.” Teresa pulled on Susan’s arm again when Ada was gone. “Let’s go watch the men work. I want to see James working on the barn.”

  Susan took in deep breaths of the fresh air, allowing the tension and guilt to flow from her body. Perhaps this good weather was Da Hah’s way of saying He had everything under control. Well, it was gut that someone did. She really needed to spend more of her days outside, perhaps helping Steve and Daett around the farm. But that would be difficult to manage now with Mamm unable to help with the normal household chores.

  Teresa was pulling on her arm again. “Let’s go see if we can find James.”

  “Daett may invite Donald for Thanksgiving dinner,” Susan said, as they came to a stop near where the other girls were standing. All of them were watching the swarming group of men pull the timbers up for the roof of the barn.

  “Really? May James and I come too?”

  “Of course you can. Thanksgiving wouldn’t be Thanksgiving this year without you.”

  “I’ll bring pies…if you trust me with them,” Teresa said. Then she pointed and said, “There’s James. Clear up on the top.”

  “Are you sure? How can you tell?”

  “Now what woman couldn’t pick out her husband?”

  Susan laughed. “This is like trying to find the right buggy at the Sunday night hymn singings when it’s pitch black.”

  Teresa glanced sideways at Susan. “So tell me about Steve taking you to the hymn singing and bringing you home again. Is there something I should know?”

  “No, there isn’t, Teresa.”

  Teresa didn’t look convinced. “Like I’m not going to notice? You walked out of the house right in front of me.”

  “There’s nothing, Teresa, really. Steve felt sorry for me and offered. He dropped me off in front of the house when we got home.”

  “Maybe he’s taking it slow.”

  “Or maybe he doesn’t care about me in that way. Lots of people are feeling sorry for us right now.”

  “I don’t believe you.” Teresa didn’t wait for an answer before she began waving, hollering, “That is James.” The figure on top of the barn beam studied her for a moment and then waved back.

  “He’s still looking at you.” Susan said, moments later.

  “What if that wasn’t James?” Teresa giggled. “He’ll never figure out who was waving at him. He’ll probably think it was his long-desired sweetheart admiring his climbing abilities.”

  “They can climb, that’s for sure. I think they like to show off on a day like this.”

  “Something like that,” Teresa agreed.

  The two stood watching the long center rafters being pushed up. The pieces would dangle for a moment in mid-air, followed by a loud shout from someone below before a final push completed the effort.

  As the morning wore on, Susan and Teresa mingled among the girls, talking and chatting. Eventually, close to one o’clock, Ada hollered behind them, “Lunch! Would someone tell Reuben?”

  Two of the smaller boys took off running, their pant legs a blur as they raced each other. Susan watched them go. How full of life the young were and bursting with energy. Of course she was still young, wasn’t she? Yah, Susan told herself with a firm set of her chin. And she would remain so now and for always.

  “Let’s go help get lunch out.” Susan nudged Teresa. Teresa nodded but lingered for a moment, taking one last look toward the new barn. She turned and caught up with Susan. Several of the women were pulling the long benches from the church wagon, so they stopped to help. Before long the yard was full of set-up tables, and the women brought the hot food from the house.

  The men lined up at the makeshift water basin by the water pump, throwing their hats on a growing pile beside the bench wagon. They splashed water on their faces and scrubbed down with soap before they flopped down on the grass under the shade trees.

  Reuben h
ollered for another washbasin and started a new line when it arrived. The men jostled each other playfully, pulling the occasional hat off the head of the owner who hadn’t yet added his to the growing pile. The hat usually went sailing across the lawn, producing a chase by the younger boys, who then returned it, usually receiving a pat of thanks on the head from the grateful owner.

  Several of the teenage boys gave chase themselves, apparently not high on preserving their dignity in front of the girls. Or perhaps preserving it by not accepting the offered help from the younger ones.

  Susan couldn’t imagine Steve chasing his own hat. He was keeping a close eye out while he approached the line. He kept his hat on his head until he arrived at the bench wagon. Thomas, on the other hand, lost his and chose to stand there until it came back. Susan looked away. She no longer cared to think about Thomas. Wilma could take care of that problem.

  When the last man was through the line, Bishop Henry called out, “Let’s pray and thank Da Hah.”

  They bowed their heads, the women on one side, standing behind the steaming array of food. The men on the other, grouped together in a half circle.

  “And now, O God of heaven and earth,” Bishop Henry prayed, “we pause to give You thanks for this day, for those who have gathered here to lend a helping hand. Grant that Your most gracious protection continue over us, keeping us safe from harm and from the dangers of body and soul. We give You thanks for this food and for those who have prepared it. Bless their hearts and hands. In Your great name, we pray. Amen.”

  The teenaged boys elbowed each other but stayed in line behind their elders. Bishop Henry led the way past the steaming food. Susan watched the men move along the tables, heaping their plates high. These were her people, she thought. And they were also Mamm and Daett’s people. None of the men were asking anything of Daett they wouldn’t be willing to go through themselves in a similar situation. She had to grant them that. Somehow thinking such thoughts helped quell the bitterness rising up inside her.

  Plus she was still young, and they were old. Sometimes the young had to trust the wisdom of age, did they not? Bishop Henry said so all the time. But here the question was real, a test in actual living. Did the older people know things the younger ones didn’t? Susan looked away from the benches full of men with their plates on their laps. Somehow she had to believe they did. Perhaps not in matters of book learning, where the Englisha thought wisdom was hidden. But in matters of living, yah. They had been through things she couldn’t imagine. Many of them had experienced the deaths of parents or the loss of young children.