Rosetta laughed at herself for not checking the caller ID number on the phone’s screen—and then laughed at her mental image of the muscular landscaping designer in a cape dress and kapp. “That would give the bishop something to talk about!”
“But I doubt he’d come any closer to allowing us to court. You sounded excited when you left your message, Rosetta,” Truman continued in a low, intimate voice. “What’s on your mind? I was glad to hear from you.”
“Well, we’ve learned that Amos and Mattie plan to marry on the twenty-first, so I thought—”
“Of November? Wow, they’re moving things right along.”
“Jah,” Rosetta said, “but if you consider that Mattie got caught passing Amos notes when they were kids in school, that’s at least forty years they’ve known each other. Once Mattie decided to put her previous marriage behind her, she became a different woman. She’s happier than I’ve seen her in a gut long while.”
“That’s all that matters. They’re both wonderful people.”
“Which is why I’d like to throw them a party before the wedding,” Rosetta continued excitedly. “Mattie and Amos both cleaned out a lot of their old household stuff when we moved from Coldstream, so it’s a perfect time to shower them with new towels and sheets, don’t you think?”
“Or even furniture and rugs,” Truman suggested. “When I helped Amos carry his stuff from the shed, I was struck by how little he owned. Even though his new house is relatively small, the rooms seemed bare.”
“Mattie knew she’d be moving into an apartment when we came here, so she donated a lot of her household stuff to charity. So there you have it! We should plan for some happiness,” Rosetta insisted. “We haven’t had a picnic since our fish fry this summer.”
“We can do that again, if you want. I’ll bring my deep fryer, and we could even have a bonfire—burn off that pile of dead wood Roman and I cleared from the orchard.”
“And we’ll make s’mores and roast hot dogs! And we can get out our mountain-pie irons,” Rosetta continued, loving the way this party was taking shape. “The Peterscheim boys and the Kurtz kids will love that! They’ve been fishing so much, we’ve frozen a bunch of fish fillets since the end of the summer. What better way to enjoy these final autumn days?”
“You’re the hostess with the mostest,” Truman quipped, “and I welcome any opportunity to spend time with you, Rosetta. Pick a date and count me in.”
Pick a date and count me in. Truman’s words—and Mattie’s afternoon announcement—made Rosetta wish she could pick her own wedding date . . . and then stand beside Truman as they exchanged their vows. For the near future, however, she would content herself with spending time with Truman in public situations, as friends.
“Are you still there, sweetheart?”
Rosetta blinked. It did funny, wonderful things to her heart when Truman used such endearments. “Oh, jah,” she murmured. “I’m not going anywhere, you know. Promise Lodge is my home, and I love it here.”
“Happy to hear that.”
She glanced out the kitchen window, wondering how to keep Truman on the line a little longer. “Now that the leaves have turned, it’s as though Mother Nature has put away her summer clothes so she can wear Thanksgiving colors. Fall’s my favorite season. What’s yours?”
“Hmm. I like them all—for different reasons,” Truman replied softly. “Autumn’s a beautiful time of year here, yet I love the sparkle of the sunshine on snow, as well. And just when I’ve grown tired of plowing the roads and keeping my clients’ driveways cleared, along come the bright green shoots and leaves that signal springtime.”
Rosetta nodded. “I’m always glad to put away my coats and do the spring cleaning,” she said. “After spending a quiet winter inside, it feels gut to be outdoors again, barefoot in the freshly turned garden.”
“And now summertime will have a special feel to it because I met you then,” Truman continued softly. “It’s my busiest season for landscaping, and my crews work long hours—but this year my jobs seemed to go faster, more smoothly, because I had your smile to look forward to whenever I stopped by.”
“Oh, Truman.” Rosetta drew a deep breath, closing her eyes. “No one’s ever spoken to me this way.”
“No one’s ever inspired me the way you have,” he said without missing a beat. “I believe God brought you here as a special gift, just for me, Rosetta. He hasn’t shown me how to open this present yet—how to make you mine forever—but I trust that He will. The Lord I worship would never be so cruel as to open a beautiful new door without eventually leading me through it, into the next phase He has in mind for me.”
Rosetta thumbed a tear from her cheek. “Denki for sharing that thought, Truman,” she whispered. “You’ve given me fresh hope for our future. I can be more patient now.”
His chuckle caressed her ear. “I wish I could. But we’re in this together, jah? For the long haul, I hope?”
“There’s no one else for me.”
“Same here. I—I love you, Rosetta,” he murmured. “I intended to say that to your face the first time, but there it is. The truth will set us free.”
“Ohhh,” Rosetta murmured. Her body came alive with goose bumps and joy and crazy little sensations for which she had no words. She gripped the receiver with both hands, as though to hold on to this moment forever.
“I love you, too, Truman. I—I was engaged when I was twenty, to a fellow named Tim,” she continued. “But he fell from a tree and broke his neck—and took my hopes to the grave with him. Like a lot of Amish men, Tim wasn’t one to express his feelings, so your words make me feel very special.”
“Well, you are.” Truman’s soft laughter delighted her soul. “I’ve dated a few gals I thought I could make a life with, but the romance went south when they tried to take over my life and reset my priorities. You’re wiser than that.”
“Puh! I’m older than you are, too,” Rosetta teased. “Maybe you should consider that before we take this any further. Maybe there’s a reason I’ve been on the shelf for seventeen years.”
“You’re thirty-seven to my thirty-three, as I recall?” he asked. “That’s not even a blink of God’s eye. It’s not as though love has an expiration date, like groceries, you know.”
Rosetta chuckled. “I’m glad. I would’ve shriveled up long ago.”
Once again Truman’s chuckle lifted her spirits. “I’m glad you called me,” he said. “Had no clue we’d share a life-changing conversation, but we’ve said what’s in our hearts.”
“We have.”
“Let me know when we’re having the party for Mattie and Amos. They’ve got nothing on us!”
“Let’s do it Thursday evening. Sooner rather than later,” Rosetta suggested. “That gives us gals a week beyond that to plan for the wedding dinner.”
“See you then, if not before. Let me know what else I can do or bring.”
As she hung up the phone, Rosetta felt as giddy as a girl going on her first date. When she thought back to the Sunday evening Tim had asked to take her home from a Singing—his first display of romantic interest in her—she recalled her nervousness and Tim’s shyness, which had resulted in an almost painful silence during their ride home. Most of their early dates had been group activities with the other youth in their church district, and even when Tim had found the nerve to take her out for rides in the countryside, he had remained reserved. He’d asked to court her, and then to marry her, by writing her two short but touching letters.
Rosetta still had Tim’s letters tucked away in a special memento box Dat had carved for her. She didn’t have to reread them to know that her relationship with Tim had been rather immature. Had he not died, however, she would’ve married him and been a steadfast wife.
But then you devoted yourself to caring for Mamm and Dat in their final years. And now a whole new life stretches before you, and Truman Wickey—for better or for worse—has become a vital part of it. Wrap yourself in a shawl of patience a
nd be warmed by the deep friendship you share. Someday, when your circumstances are right . . . maybe God will find a way for you and Truman to be together.
Rosetta returned to the table and picked up the pieces of paper that lay scattered on the floor. With an outdoor party planned for Thursday evening, she chose recipes for pumpkin bread, butterscotch cashew bars, and other desserts that her friends would enjoy with their fried fish and hot dogs. She jotted down a list of ingredients they would need for mountain pies—toasted sandwiches made with bread, meat, and cheese, heated over a bonfire in a cast-iron pan similar to a long-handled waffle iron. Already she was anticipating the games they might play, the gifts she might give to Mattie and Amos . . . the time she would spend chatting with Truman, basking in his warm, gentle smile.
“You’re here in the kitchen all by your lonesome, missy?”
“Gee, if we’d known you were having a recipe frolic, we would’ve shortened our naps.”
Rosetta turned to smile at Beulah and Ruby. “I’m anything but lonesome. I just got off the phone with Truman—”
“Aha! That explains the light in your eyes,” said Ruby.
“I liked that young fellow the first moment I saw him,” Beulah chimed in with a nod.
“—and we’re planning a party by the lake for Mattie and Amos! A combination fish fry, bonfire, and wedding shower,” Rosetta continued in a lower voice. “And it wouldn’t be the same without you ladies, of course. Let’s keep the shower part a surprise, though.”
“Oh, but that sounds like fun!” Beulah said, clapping her hands.
“And an excuse to make all sorts of goodies,” Ruby remarked. “We can put together a basket of our cheeses and some jars of honey for the happy couple’s gift—”
“With a handwritten certificate that’s gut for all the cheese and honey they can eat for a year!”
Rosetta smiled. It was a treat to spend time with these maidel sisters because their enthusiasm was contagious. “The party is Thursday evening, and the wedding is set for the twenty-first—which is also Mattie’s birthday,” she added. “We’ve got a lot of planning and celebrating to do!”
Chapter Seven
As Mattie checked the tables one last time late Thursday afternoon, Rainbow Lake shimmered with sun diamonds and the reflection of trees ablaze in crimson and gold foliage. For the adults who preferred not to sit on the ground, they’d set up a long table with chairs. A short distance from Truman’s fish fryer, they’d placed a serving table to hold the plates and the food—and everything was shaping up for a wonderful evening.
The three Peterscheim boys and Lowell Kurtz raced out the lodge’s back door with whoops of joy, set free from school a little early by their sympathetic teacher, Minerva Kurtz. Their sisters, Lily Peterscheim and Fannie Kurtz, already close friends, walked quickly toward the picnic site to help with the preparations.
“What can we do?” Fannie called out. At fourteen, she stood a head taller than blond Lily, and her expressive dark brows and hair set off a peaches-and-cream complexion.
Lily went straight to an oblong container near one end of the serving table and lifted its lid. “No doubt you need a cookie tester, and I’m just the one for that job!”
“Cookies! Jah!” the boys hollered. They swarmed the table, reaching around the girls to snatch treats.
Mattie laughed, slinging her arms around Christine and Rosetta. “You were right to make a lot of those cookies and to save back another bin of them. What with the kids grabbing them by the handfuls, they’re going fast.”
“And we’ll have a cake, too,” Christine said. “Beulah did a dandy job decorating it.”
Mattie heard a hint of mystery in her sister’s voice but decided not to push for an explanation. It wasn’t unusual for the Kuhns to bake cakes, but adding decorations suggested a special occasion . . . perhaps an early birthday celebration. “It was nice of Truman to mow the grass shorter so Preacher Marlin could set up the wickets for croquet—”
“We’ve decided the old guys should challenge the young bucks to a volleyball game,” Amos called over to them. He and Preacher Eli were stretching the net between the two posts while Bishop Floyd and his brother Lester carried buckets of water from the lake to set beside the woodpile that would become their bonfire.
“Hey! Who’re you calling old?” the bishop teased. “I’m way too young to play on your side of the net, Troyer.”
Mattie and her sisters laughed, pleased that the tensions between the men had eased since Noah’s wedding. A big pickup truck rumbled as it turned off the county road and approached them.
“There’s Truman with his mamm,” Rosetta said, waving at the vehicle. “And here come Frances and the girls with the fish and hot dogs.”
A series of loud woofs announced Queenie’s arrival as she escorted Harley Kurtz, along with Roman, Noah, and Deborah.
“What a wonderful party,” Mattie said happily. “All of our family and friends, here to play games and eat gut food together.”
“And we brought you a few little surprises, too,” Rosetta said with a secretive smile. “We’ve stashed them in the shed for you to open after dinner.”
Mattie’s jaw dropped. “It’s not my birthday yet. Why’re you giving me presents when I already have everything I—”
“Surprise! They’re shower gifts!” Christine blurted. “We thought you and Amos should have some new things as you set up housekeeping together.”
“I sure wish somebody would throw a shower for me,” Frances teased as she pulled a high-sided wagon to the serving table. “After more than twenty-five years of marriage to Floyd, our towels and sheets are wearing thin.”
Mattie blinked back sudden tears and once again hugged her sisters. Frances and Gloria were lifting her favorite glass cake stand from the wagon, and the tall square cake on it said CONGRATULATIONS, AMOS AND MATTIE in chocolate script across the top. Orange and yellow flowers bloomed in the corners and trailed down the sides of the cake.
“What a fine surprise,” Mattie murmured. “I didn’t expect you to—”
“All the more reason to throw you a party, Sister,” Rosetta said. “We wish you and Amos all the best.”
“We’re calling this a practice run for your wedding cake,” Ruby remarked as she and her sister approached the picnic area with bins of bread, hot dog buns, and condiments. “Let us know what colors you want for the decorations—”
“And what you’d like us to cook for your dinner, too,” Beulah put in. “We can cook the traditional chicken, dressing, and creamed celery in our sleep, practically, but if you’d rather have something different, we’d love to fix it for you.”
“I’ll give it some thought and tell you tomorrow,” Mattie said. “Let’s help Irene to the table so she won’t stumble over the volleyball or the croquet wickets.”
Rosetta was already heading toward the passenger side of Truman’s truck, and when the door opened, his mother waved cheerfully. Irene Wickey didn’t often join them for outdoor events because she had trouble keeping her balance on uneven surfaces, but everyone hated for her to be home alone while they were having fun. With Truman standing on one side of his mother and Rosetta on the other, Irene cautiously walked the grassy distance to the table.
Mattie pulled out a chair at the table for her. “Irene, we’re so glad you could come,” she said, squeezing the older woman’s slender shoulders. “It seems these folks have pulled a fast one and turned this into a wedding shower for Amos and me.”
“Puh! I’ve known about that since Sunday, Mattie,” Truman’s mamm teased. “I wore my new flowery dress for the occasion. What do you think?”
Mattie fingered Irene’s collar, which lay neatly over the brown fleece jacket she was wearing. “I like the feel of this twill.”
“And those deep red and orange mums are perfect for this time of year,” Christine remarked. “You and Beulah and Ruby, with your bright floral prints, make me feel like I’m standing in a beautiful garden.”
Amos and the other men came over to greet Truman and his mother. “We’re thinking we’d best play our all-man volleyball game now, before we load up on food,” Amos suggested. “It’s the older guys against the kids, Wickey. We’ll leave it up to you as to which side of the net you choose.”
Truman laughed. “If all the athletic talent is on one team, how do the three Peterscheims and Lavern figure to score any points?” he challenged the boys.
“Oh, that’s a funny one!” Lavern cried. “We get Noah and Roman on our team! We’ll lob the ball over the net nice and easy until we catch you old guys napping, and then we’ll spike it right down on your heads.”
“Jah, you won’t know what hit you—or how your team all of a sudden lost the game!” Johnny said in a swaggering voice. “Let’s do it, guys!”
“Won’t take but three minutes to win!” Menno chimed in. “Let’s let the men serve first or they won’t score any points.”
The younger boys grabbed Noah and Roman by their jacket sleeves and jogged to one side of the net. The men sauntered over to the other side, chatting among themselves about who should take which position in the rotation. Mattie and the other women set the chairs along one side of the table and took their seats. Minerva and Deborah stood off to one side of the net to watch while Gloria hurried to the opposite side.
“Show them how it’s done, Roman!” she called out.
“Somebody grab Queenie,” Noah said, “or she’ll want to be right in the middle of the action.”
Rosetta whistled for the dog. With a glance over her shoulder at the volleyball players, Queenie trotted over to lie down between Rosetta and Christine’s feet.
“I know!” Lily said to Fannie. “We could get Queenie’s Frisbee and throw it for her. But let’s go down by the barn, away from the volleyball game and the croquet wickets. Come on, Queenie! We’ll play with you.”
Christmas at Promise Lodge Page 7