by Price, Sarah
“You scared me!” She tried to force a smile but couldn’t.
“You sure you’re feeling all right? If your headache is bothering you, mayhaps you should take it easy today,” he offered. “We could visit your mamm and daed another time.”
“No!”
Once again, he seemed just as surprised as she was by the forcefulness of her response. She hadn’t meant to burst out like that. It wasn’t in her nature. Not normally, anyway.
Smoothing the front of her dress, she stared at the floor. “I mean nee. I feel fine, Steve. Honest and true,” she said in a softer voice, hating herself for lying to him. She’d pray to God for forgiveness later. “And Mamm surely went to a lot of trouble to make a nice dinner meal. Sure would not like to disappoint her.”
He eyed her cautiously and she knew that he wasn’t buying her story…he knew something was wrong. Yet, he also respected her enough to not pursue the matter any further: She would tell him when and if she was ready.
“All right then,” he finally said. “Best get headed outside then.”
“What about breakfast?”
He waved his hand and shook his head. “No time if we are to get to your parents’ early for dinner. I’ll just grab a slice of bread and mayhaps you might bring me a coffee when it’s ready, ja?”
Ten minutes later, she stood in the kitchen, staring at the water kettle as she waited for the water to boil. The kitchen felt cold to her, not just in temperature. She didn’t want to be in it that morning. She preferred to crawl back into bed and toss the covers over her head. If only she could sleep until it was time to go to her parents. If only she could shut her eyes and wake up at their house. If only…
The kettle began to make a whistling noise but she made no move to remove it from the heat. For a few long moments, she simply stared at it, watching the steam rise from the small opening in the spout. It warmed her cheeks as it rose through the air and she shut her eyes, feeling the moist caress of the steam on her skin. The feeling comforted her and she finally opened her eyes, knowing that she needed to snap out of her personal fog. Her husband wanted coffee. It was not important that she felt like a terrible wife. She’d bring him his coffee and offer, once again, to help in the fields. It was the least she could do to redeem herself.
“You best be wearing a jacket, Katie Fisher!” Anna called out as she heard Katie scamper down the stairs, her morning chores completed, as she headed toward the outside door.
It was Saturday and that meant free time to play with Butterscotch. She had waited all week for this moment, anticipating the small window of free time that she would have on the weekend.
During the long days at school, she had daydreamed about grooming her pony before they rode across the field. She hadn’t ridden Butterscotch all week and that meant they were both antsy, pent-up energy ready to go! The barn raising the previous day has sure helped to redirect her attention elsewhere, making the day scurry by lickity-split!
“Ja, Mamm,” Katie called out as she backtracked to grab her black coat from the hook near the door. “I got my coat.”
Without waiting for a response, Katie pushed the door open and escaped the confines of the house as well as her mamm’s ever watching eye. Ever since Steve had gotten married, it sure seemed that her mamm found plenty of extra chores for Katie, especially helping her daed in the dairy. While Katie didn’t mind milking the cows in the morning so much, she sure did resent having to milk them in the early evening. With the days so short, it was too dark to visit with Butterscotch beyond a quick pat when she tossed the pony some hay after the evening milking.
As she walked across the driveway, two cats ran across her path. With the colder weather, they didn’t sleep in the sun anymore but seemed to hibernate in the hayloft above the dairy barn. Come Spring, there would be more kittens to play with, that was for sure and certain. For now, they rarely ventured outside, except when the younger ones wanted to go mousing or exploring.
The one cat followed her toward the stable, rubbing against Katie’s leg as she started to open the door. Pausing, Katie leaned down and scratched its neck, smiling as she heard it begin to purr, its back arched and its tail flipping through the air.
Just as she was standing back up, she heard her daed call out to her. Shutting her eyes, she grimaced, wishing she had just ignored the cat and slipped through the door. That one extra minute of paying attention to the cat had been just long enough for her daed to see her. And that could only mean one thing.
“Katie, come here to help me a moment,” he shouted.
Now what, she asked herself. She gritted her teeth, biting back the sharp words she wished that she could blurt out. Wasn’t it enough that she had to do so many other chores around the house and farm? It wasn’t her fault that she was the oldest child! If only Benjamin was old enough to help more, she thought angrily. But she remained silent on the subject and obediently walked over to her daed.
“I’m trying to fix the back gate,” he said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Need some help holding it. Think one of the cows kicked it this morning when I was turning them out.”
Silently, Katie followed her daed, knowing that fixing anything on the farm was not a quick one-two task. Undoubtedly, it would lead to something else such as tossing down the hay for the evening feeding or washing out the water troughs. She could only anticipate what other essential chore would be discovered and require her assistance before she had the chance to return her attention to Butterscotch.
Mary Ruth greeted Menno with a broad smile when he emerged from the barn to help her unharness the horse from the buggy. He must have heard the horse’s hooves on the driveway when she pulled into it for no sooner had she stopped the horse by the stable than he was beside her, holding the horse’s reins when she slid open the door.
It was cold outside and her breath hung in the air like a small burst of fog. Shivering, she wrapped her arms around herself and hurried to help Menno with the horse.
“Thought you would visit with your schwesters longer,” he commented as he unhitched the leather tugs and started to lead the horse into the stable.
She shook her head. “Thought you might need some help with the kinner,” she replied as she scooped up the breastplate from the driveway and followed Menno into the stable. She hung it by a buckle from the nail on the wall and turned in time to see Menno open the stall door for the horse. It was open and he had just walked the horse inside, pausing to grab a currycomb from the grooming bucket in order to brush down the sweaty animal.
On a whim, Mary Ruth hurried over and slipped inside the stall, quietly shutting it behind herself so that he wouldn’t know she was there. Ever so silently, she leaned against the door and watched him groom the horse. So attentive was he to the horse that he didn’t realize she was standing there. When he caught sight of her, he almost jumped, startled by her presence.
“What are you doing?” he laughed.
“Watching you.”
“Ja vell,” he commented lightly. “I can see that. But why?”
She bit her lower lip and looked away, a blush coloring her cheeks, hiding the smile that wanted to break onto her face.
He cleared his throat and stepped away from the horse, one hand still on its rump as he reached out for her. “Come,” he said, a gruff edge to his voice. “Help me, Mary Ruth.” Pulling her toward him, he positioned her so that her back was pressed against his chest. With one arm around her midsection, he took her other hand and let her hold the currycomb. Then, together, they brushed the horse in silence, Mary Ruth leaning her head back so that it rested against his shoulder.
For a few moments, they stood like that, his hand pressed atop hers as they groomed the horse, his other arm holding her tight. The warmth from his chest kept away the chill of the winter day and the strength of his arms made her feel protected.
When he leaned down, she felt the tickle of his whiskers against her ear and she shivered. He must have noticed for he stopped movin
g her hand on the horse, his fingers slowly entwining with hers. His breath brushed the back of her neck and she started to turn around, hoping to entice him to kiss her in the privacy of the horse’s stall where the kinner could not see.
The kinner!
She caught her breath and started to pull away, wondering where they were. Menno, however, refused to release her.
“Menno!” she gasped. “Where are the kinner?”
“Inside the house,” he murmured as he brushed his thumb along her cheek. “Melvin is watching the girls for me. He helped me a spell in the barn, but it grew too cold outside for them.” He lifted his eyes to stare into hers, a glow growing there. “I’m not cold now, though.”
She let him kiss her and wrapped her arms around his neck. If only this moment could last forever, she thought. She wanted nothing more than to always be in his arms, to always savor his kisses and his embrace. Yet, she knew that it was a short-lived moment, no matter how much they both wanted it to linger for much longer.
He leaned his forehead against hers and sighed. “You make me feel like a young, courting man,” he whispered.
Mary Ruth hid her pleasure at his statement by teasing him. “Is that what you did during courting?” She tugged playfully at the collar of his coat. “I certainly hope not!”
A laughed escaped his lips at her jest and he gave her a warm hug. “Nee, fraa,” he replied, breathing in the fresh scent of her hair. “But you sure do know how to make my heart go pitter-patter.”
“Ja vell, speaking of pitter-patter,” she said. “I reckon I best go check on the kinner. They sure do seem awfully quiet.”
“That they do,” he acknowledged, reluctantly releasing her from his arms. “I’ll finish up here and be in shortly. Need a break from being outside. Mayhaps you might put on some water for coffee?”
The wind was picking up as she hurried across the driveway toward the house. Clapping her hands against her arms, she bounced up the stairs to the porch and hurried inside, shivering as she unbuttoned her coat and took it off.
“Melvin? Girls?” she called out.
“In here, Mamm!”
Smiling, Mary Ruth hurried into the kitchen. No sooner had she crossed over the threshold than her smile faded and she stopped in her tracks. “What is going on in here?” she gasped.
Suzanne, Emma, and Ruth Ann looked up and greeted their stepmother with broad smiles. The counter was covered with her mixing bowls, each one dirty. Flour was everywhere: the counter, the cabinets, even on the floor. On the table, four cookie sheets were laid out and the girls were busy trying to spoon what looked like lumpy dough onto them.
“We’re making cookies!” Ruth Ann shouted, her face beaming with delight.
“I…I see that,” Mary Ruth said, hiding her dismay as she tried to assess the damage that had all but destroyed her previously cleaned kitchen. “Where’s Melvin? I thought he was supposed to watch you girls.”
Suzanne shrugged her shoulders. “Upstairs in his room,” she said as she used a spoon to scoop out another glob of dough and pressed it onto the cookie sheet.
In his room? Mary Ruth approached the table and leaned over to dip her finger into the dough. She tasted it and nodded her approval to Suzanne. “Not bad,” she admitted. “Now, once those are baking, I’m trusting there will be more pairs of hands than just mine cleaning up, ja?”
“Ja, Mamm,” Emma affirmed. The other two girls nodded their heads in agreement.
“Gut! Now, let me go see what’s wrong with Melvin.” She headed to the stairs, pausing before she started to ascend them. “And Suzanne, please put some water on the stove. Your daed will want some coffee when he comes in.”
Upstairs, she noticed right away that Melvin’s bedroom door was shut. That set off a red flag right away. The children never kept their doors shut. Immediately, she wondered if he was ill. With cold weather upon them and after having worked so hard the previous day, Melvin could possibly be worn out and not feeling well.
With one hand on the doorknob, Mary Ruth gently rapped her knuckles of the other against the door. “Melvin? May I come in?” When she thought she heard a noise from inside, she entered, opening the door slowly and poking her head inside.
He was lying down on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. His eyes flickered in her direction.
“You feeling poorly, then?” she asked as she sat down on the bed next to him. Reaching out her hand, she felt his forehead. No fever. Even his cheeks were cool. Clearly he wasn’t sick, that was for sure and certain. “What’s wrong, Melvin?”
“Nothing.”
She frowned. “Doesn’t look like nothing.”
He shrugged.
“Your daed had asked you to watch the girls while I was gone,” she said gently. “They made quite a mess downstairs.”
“I’m sorry,” Melvin whispered, averting his eyes.
She smiled and ruffled his hair, her heart breaking at the sorrowful look on his face. “I’m sure you are,” she said. “Mayhaps if you help clean up, the girls will share their cookies with you.”
Reluctantly, he got out of the bed and walked toward the door. His shoulders were hunched over and he shuffled his feet, his hands thrust deep into his pockets. Mary Ruth watched as he headed through the open doorway and listened as he walked down the stairs.
As she leaned over and straightened his bed coverings, she smiled to herself, despite the fact that her heart was breaking for what she knew was pain that Melvin was hiding. If only he would open up, she thought, as she smoothed the wrinkles from the quilt so that the bed was fresh and properly made. Mayhaps he’d feel better then…
“Wilkum!”
Mimi’s mamm greeted her dochder with a big smile when they walked through the door. The kitchen smelled of cooked chicken and fresh biscuits, a comforting smell to welcome both Steve and Mimi to the house. The table was set with a plain green tablecloth, white plates, and mix-matched water glasses. Still, to Mimi, it felt like she was coming home.
“Daed will be in shortly. Going to shut the shop early today so he can visit proper,” Mamm gushed, opening the oven door to pull out the freshly baked biscuits. The room immediately warmed to the smell of fresh baked dough. “I always said that it’s not Saturday if the kitchen doesn’t smell like bread!”
“Sure does smell right gut,” Steve admitted.
Mimi didn’t respond. She merely stood just inside the doorway, partially leaning against the wall with her arms crossed over her chest. She had been unusually quiet during the buggy ride from their farm to her parents. Steve had noticed it right away and wondered what was bothering her. However, knowing that she hadn’t felt well earlier, he left her alone to her thoughts.
Shuffling his feet, Steve glanced from Mimi to her mamm, wondering what to do. He was concerned about Mimi and how she had been acting recently. She seemed so sullen and withdrawn, yet he couldn’t understand why. Everything had seem to be going to quite smoothly: their marriage, being able to move into the grossdaadihaus at his farm, even their ability to work so well together.
“Mayhaps I should go see if your daed needs any help,” he finally offered, eager to leave the kitchen and hoping that Mimi might benefit from some time alone with her mamm.
The bell over the store door tingled as he walked inside, announcing his presence. Two Amish men were standing at the end of an aisle, looking at the back of a product when he entered. They recognized him and greeted him with a simple hand wave.
Steve waved back but continued walking toward the back of the store, suddenly wondering if Mimi missed working there. Unlike living on their farm, there was certainly much more social interaction at the store. Perhaps the isolation of living on a farm was too much or too sudden for her. While he had been encouraging Mimi to visit next door with his mamm and Anna as frequently as she could, it dawned on him that, mayhaps, working a day or two for her daed might help her with her sullen and morose moods.
“Hullo, Steve!”
“T
hought I’d pop in.” Steve smiled at his father-in-law. “See if you needed any help,” he said as he shook John’s hand. “Let the women have a few moments to catch up by themselves, too.”
John laughed, his eyes crinkling into half-moons. “Escaped the kitchen, then, ja?”
“Escaped the kitchen,” Steve admitted.
“Don’t blame you! Next thing you know, they’d have an apron pinned around your waist!” John teased.
“Vell, not so sure about that,” Steve retorted. “Mimi sure doesn’t need my help at home in the kitchen. But mayhaps…” He let his voice trail off, wondering if he should talk to Mimi before mentioning anything to her daed. However, he quickly realized that the opportunity was presenting itself now. “Mayhaps you might be needing some help here at the store?”
John paused and tilted his head, assessing Steve as he stood on the other side of the counter. “Help, eh? What did you have in mind, then?”
Glancing over his shoulder, Steve made certain the two men were not nearby. It would do no good if anyone overheard their conversation. Satisfied that they were not going to be interrupted, Steve turned back to his father-in-law. “I was thinking that Mimi might like to come back to work for a day or two. Seems a bit lonely at the farm and might perk her up a bit.”
“Perk her up a bit, eh?” John pulled at his white beard, which, unlike many of the other Amish men, was neatly trimmed. For a long moment, he seemed to study Steve’s face, his eyes searching for answers to unasked questions.
“Ja vell,” Steve began, not liking the look of concern on John’s face. He hoped that her daed didn’t blame him for the changes in Mimi. He had tried to make things easy for her, even working extra hard to get the grossdaadihaus ready for them to live in. He knew it wasn’t perfect but most newlyweds didn’t live together for months after being married. He had thought she would be happy there. “She does seem a bit…overwhelmed with some of the changes, I reckon.” He shuffled his feet as he spoke. “I was thinking that, mayhaps, she misses interacting with all the people every day. It’s right quiet on our farm, you see.”