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The Amish Baby Finds a Home

Page 17

by Barbara Cameron


  Gideon tested a strand of spaghetti and found that it was done. He drained it, poured it into a big bowl, and set it on the table with a bowl of the warmed sauce with meatballs.

  “I guess not.”

  “Well, sounds like your bruder went to some effort to make his proposal romantic,” Leah mused as she twined spaghetti around her fork. “Toys for John—”

  “That’s romantic?”

  “In its own way. I’m schur Emma appreciated him doing something for their boppli. He needs to prove he loves John. Going to the doctor the day John had the ear infection went a long way to making her see he wants to be his dat and a mann to her.” She buttered a slice of bread and added it to her plate. “Flowers were a nice touch. Wonder what kind he bought her.”

  “I couldn’t see. He was carrying them in a bag.”

  “Well, it sounds like he had a plan. Let’s hope it works.”

  “It probably did. Eli’s always been the one with charm.”

  “You have your own charm,” she told him. “It’s quieter and more thoughtful. But it’s there.”

  “You’re just saying that because you’re my mudder.”

  She shook her head “Hannah finds you charming, I’m schur.”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know about that.” But she did look at him in a way no other maedel had done.

  “Have you given Hannah flowers lately? Done anything thoughtful?”

  “Ya. Of course.” But it had been a while. And it wouldn’t do to tell her he’d taken them from her garden.

  Eli had had a plan. Well, Gideon was no dummy. He’d think of a plan too, and while he didn’t think he had the charm his mudder thought he did, he’d do his best asking Hannah to marry him. He still didn’t think he had much to offer her, but as his mudder had reminded him, they didn’t know how much time we had on this earth.

  He looked at his mudder and saw she’d stopped eating and was staring off into the distance. “What?”

  “I’m just wondering if I planted enough celery in the kitchen garden.”

  * * *

  On Saturday, Hannah stood outside the bishop’s barn watching the long line of buggies arriving for the funeral service for Abram.

  So many of Abram’s fellow Amish would be attending that it was necessary to have the service inside the barn rather than his home. Hannah and other women from the church had visited Ruby and supplied emotional support and food. And everyone—women as well as men—had pitched in and done the daily chores since he died.

  Gideon, Eli, and the other men had helped to unload the benches from the wagon and set them up in the barn. Then they’d gone home, cleaned up and changed, and returned.

  Now Gideon was helping people park their buggies, and occasionally their gazes met. Eli seemed more solemn than usual, but that was to be expected when the leader of their faith was soon to be taken to his final resting place.

  People filed into the barn and took seats. Hannah joined them and felt a stab of sympathy for Ruby as she entered leaning heavily on the arm of her oldest sohn. Hannah knew Ruby had taken her mann’s death hard because she’d believed him to be recovering from the flu.

  The service began with a prayer as it would end with one. Elmer gave the sermon and the assemblage sang the hymns “Walking with God” and “Take My Hand and Lead Me, Father” in German. Elmer didn’t speak of Abram’s character and faith; those were well-known and there was no need to speak of them. Instead this was the last service for a man who had ended his life’s journey. It was God’s will, the beginning of a new life. But there would be no speaking of where that began, for it wasn’t for those left behind to say. There was simply hope.

  When the service was over, the assemblage followed the horse-drawn hearse in their buggies. The plain pine coffin was lowered into a hand-dug grave, and hearts lifted with a final prayer as they stood in the field of simple stone markers. The clouds that had gathered during the day suddenly parted and a shaft of sunlight poured down as church members drifted back to their buggies.

  Hannah thought it felt like a benediction as they walked away from the dead.

  There was food back at the farmhouse afterward. So much food. Big casseroles and funeral sandwiches, a favorite that often appeared each time someone in the community passed. Hannah noticed that Gideon took two of the small rolls filled with ham and melted cheese and lavished with a warm buttery sauce. She took just one and a small slice of chocolate cake. There was always a big selection of desserts at an Amish gathering.

  “Can I give you a ride home?” Gideon asked quietly as he put a slice of custard pie on his plate.

  She nodded. She’d come with her mudder but it was a simple thing to look over at her as she stood talking with a friend and send a silent message that she’d go with Gideon.

  “I should see if I’m needed to help with the dishes first,” she told Gideon.

  “Allrecht. I’ll wait for you.”

  But if he had a reason for asking to take her home he didn’t immediately reveal it. Instead they rode in silence and the only sound was the clip-clop of the horse’s hooves.

  “It turned into a beautiful day,” she said, breaking the silence.

  “It did. Weather’s nice this time of year. Spring’s too short. Before we know it summer heat will be here.”

  He paused, looked at her, then returned his gaze to the road ahead. “Eli proposed to Emma.”

  She nodded. “I know.”

  “I’m happy she accepted.”

  “Me too.”

  “I thought maybe we could go for a picnic lunch after church this Sunday.”

  “Schur. That would be nice. What shall I bring?”

  He shook his head. “I’ll bring the food.”

  “You?”

  He spared her a glance. “Allrecht, so it won’t be fried chicken like you and your mudder make. But you won’t go hungerich.”

  “I’m schur I won’t,” she said with a smile. “I’d love to go for a picnic.”

  She blinked in surprise when she realized he was pulling up in front of her house.

  “Well, danki for the ride. See you tomorrow morning.”

  “Hannah.” He touched her arm as she started to get out of the buggy and she turned back curiously. He leaned down and kissed her thoroughly. “Tomorrow.”

  Bemused, she got out and walked up the steps. She turned and touched her lips as she watched the buggy rolling on down the road. “Well, Gideon, that was some kiss.”

  * * *

  Finally, Sunday had arrived. Gideon loved working in his shop, but six days was a long week. The alternate Sundays when he attended church were welcome breaks, renewing him spiritually and physically.

  And today he’d be spending the afternoon with Hannah.

  “So where are we going?” she asked him as she climbed into his buggy after church.

  “You’ll see.”

  “Ah, Mr. Mystery,” she teased, smiling.

  He glanced over as he guided the buggy to their destination. She leaned back and relaxed, enjoying the warm breeze coming in the window.

  “I love this time of year, when it’s getting warmer and everything’s growing,” she told him.

  When he pulled up in front of his house she turned to him. “We’re having a picnic at your house?”

  “On the property. Kumm.” He retrieved the picnic basket from the back seat, handed her a quilt, then took her hand and began leading her down a path behind the barn.

  “The pond,” she murmured when it came into view. “I remember coming back here with you and Eli and friends when we were kinner.” She sighed happily. “I have some gut memories of this place.”

  He set the basket down, took the quilt from her, and spread it on the long grass beside the water. “Since the shops have been getting busier we haven’t been able to have lunch together often.”

  She nodded. “It feels gut to relax,” she said as she kicked off her shoes and wiggled her toes.

  He found himself stari
ng at her toes. She had really cute toes. Determinedly he forced himself to look away. He’d brought her here to talk to her today.

  “The shop’s getting busier,” she told him, obviously unaware of his temporary lapse of attention. “I’m glad Emma came back and that she’s working part-time for me.” She frowned. “I hope she keeps working for me after she and Eli marry.”

  Gideon stopped in the act of opening the wicker picnic basket. “Why wouldn’t she?”

  “She might decide to stay home and help Eli with the farm. And I’m schur she and Eli will want to have more kinner.” She leaned over and opened the lid. “What are you going to feed me?”

  He handed her a ham and cheese sandwich and took one for himself.

  “Anyway, I’m so happy for Emma,” she said as she unwrapped her sandwich. “She and John will have a home. A nice big one. Some couples start out having to live with the braut’s eldres and have just one bedroom to themselves. Even when everyone gets along it’s not always easy for two generations to share a house.”

  “My mudder will still be living in the house,” he pointed out, feeling a little alarm bell go off.

  She nodded. “But in the dawdi haus. That’s separate enough. And she and Emma get along well.”

  His mudder had thought they all could share the farmhouse. It sounded like Hannah had reservations about doing that.

  He stared out at the pond. He needed to think more about this before he said anything to her about a future together.

  Then he realized she was still talking.

  “A friend is living with her mann’s eldres while they save for a place of their own and she’s feeling a lack of privacy,” she told him.

  “Who?”

  “I don’t want to say. It was a private conversation.”

  Gideon liked Hannah’s familye but his original plans hadn’t included living with them. Until Emma had come back, he’d planned on marrying Hannah and them living here in the farmhouse…How did he feel about living with Hannah in her bedroom at her house with her eldres a few rooms away? Would he feel the same lack of privacy Hannah’s friend felt?

  “You’re not eating,” Hannah said.

  “Just thinking about something,” he told her and bit into the sandwich.

  She popped the last bite of her sandwich in her mouth and looked in the basket. “You brought cookies!” She pulled out the bag and helped herself to one. “Mmm. Gut.”

  “Mamm made them.” He stared at her when she chuckled. “What’s so funny?”

  “Silly. I didn’t think you made them.”

  “I can cook!”

  “Baking’s different than cooking. Have you ever baked?”

  “Eli and I made cookies with her when we were kinner.”

  “Not the same.” She finished the cookie, plucked another from the plastic container, then returned it to the picnic basket. After poking around she pulled out a thermos of iced tea and poured them both a cup.

  They sat sipping their tea as they watched a duck bob on the surface of the pond.

  “So I got the impression you wanted to talk to me about something,” she said at last, turning to look at him.

  Gideon considered what to say. They’d known each other all their lives. It hadn’t been a sudden thing to ask her out that evening months ago. Dating wasn’t casual and certainly marriage wasn’t here. Divorce was verboten. So a man had to be certain a relationship could work for a very long time.

  He felt their attraction had deepened into love on both sides. He wanted to tell her that and more, but he felt so confused about what to say or do since Emma had come back to town with John. He always had been one to plan things out, be sure of what he should do. But he’d always assumed he and his fraa would have the farmhouse.

  Now that he had to figure out where he and Hannah would live…should he still tell her he loved her and wanted to marry her and then ask her how she felt about finding a place of their own? He’d brought her here to talk, but now he had his doubts about the timing. He sighed inwardly. Maybe his bruder was right. Maybe he was as slow as molasses on a winter morning.

  But it was important to say the right thing, be certain he knew where they were headed in their future. Wasn’t it? Wouldn’t Hannah want to know he could provide a home for her?

  “Gideon?”

  “Hmm? Nee, I just wanted us to have some time together without anyone else around,” he said, and felt sorry he wasn’t telling the truth. “We haven’t had much time to talk lately. And when we do get to talk it’s often been about Emma and Eli and John.”

  “True.” She sighed. “I’m so glad things seem to be working out for them.”

  How he wanted things to work out for them.

  “Something’s wrong with you,” she said.

  “What?” He hoped he hadn’t drifted off and missed her saying something.

  “You seem distracted.”

  “It’s your toes,” he said. “You have cute toes.”

  She swatted his arm with her hand. “You’ve seen my toes a million times, as much as I go barefoot in the summer around the house. Seriously, I have never seen you not eat a cookie or something sweet when we have a meal.”

  “You don’t know how many I ate when I packed our lunch.”

  “That’s true.” She looked out at the pond. “I wonder if the water’s too cold to dabble my toes in it.” She got up, lifted her skirts, and waded in it. “Not too bad.”

  “Careful. Remember it gets pretty deep in places.”

  “Ya. But you’d jump in and save me, wouldn’t you?”

  “Schur. But let’s not do that today.”

  She stepped out and sat on the quilt again. “Won’t be long until summer. Then being in the water will feel a lot better.”

  Summer wasn’t that far off. He’d need to figure out what to do soon. Like his mudder had pointed out, Hannah probably didn’t want to wait another year to get married.

  “This has been nice,” she said as she put the thermos and their empty cups in the basket.

  “We’ll do it again soon.”

  “Next time I’ll make the food.”

  “Maybe some of your fried chicken?”

  “Schur.” She smiled at him. “I know how you like it. But you still like my mudder’s biscuits better than mine.”

  He searched for the right words.

  “Oh, don’t bother to try to find something to say,” she told him. “I know how you feel about them.”

  “What? You want me to lie?”

  “Nee,” she said. “I like hers better than mine, too. But remember, she’s had a lot more years to practice than I have.”

  A rumble of thunder had them both looking up. They’d been so absorbed in talking they hadn’t noticed that clouds were gathering overhead.

  They stood and gathered up the quilt, folding it quickly, then Hannah grabbed her shoes and they hurried back up the path to the house. They’d no sooner reached the buggy and climbed inside than rain began to fall. It fell steadily as they drove to her house. When they got there he pulled out an umbrella and walked her up to her porch.

  Then he stole a kiss before he ran back to his buggy. When he got inside he glanced back and saw her mudder come to the door to open it.

  He waved to her and remembered Hannah mentioning her mudder’s biscuits. If indeed he and Hannah married and they had to live with her eldres he’d be eating more of Mary’s cooking—especially her biscuits.

  Maybe there were compensations to living for a time in their house. He chuckled and shook his head as he drove home. Surely he wasn’t that shallow.

  But oh, Mary’s biscuits were as light as a cloud.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Maybe I should have called first,” Emma said as she and Eli climbed the steps to her house. Not my house, she corrected herself.

  “Your mamm hasn’t returned your calls.”

  Emma sighed. “She’s probably just been busy taking care of my dat since he came home from the hospit
al.”

  He just looked at her.

  “Maybe we should have brought John along. No one can resist John.”

  “They’re going to be happy that we’re getting married. And remember no one can resist me.”

  She gave him a disbelieving look.

  Eli grinned at her. “Allrecht, so your dat wasn’t particularly friendly to me when he saw me at church back when I was seeing you. But your dat is one of the sterner eldres in the community. And he never chased me off when I came to pick you up to go out.”

  “He would have if he’d had any idea what you had in mind when we went out.”

  “That could be said of most young men of my age.” He grinned at her.

  “You know you had a reputation for enjoying your rumschpringe a little too much.”

  He took her hand and kissed it. “Those days are long over.”

  “I know.” She took a deep breath. “Let’s get it over with.”

  “Emma, we’re sharing gut news with them, not going to a funeral.”

  “You’re schur Elmer’s going to marry us?”

  “Of course. I talked to him after the funeral and he said he and the bishop had a conversation the day before he died. The church wants us to be married. You know that.”

  They walked down the drive then climbed up the back porch steps. Emma bit her lip as she knocked on the kitchen door.

  Her mudder opened the door and her eyes went wide when she saw Emma and Eli. “You shouldn’t have come.” She cast a nervous glance over her shoulder.

  “Mamm, we have gut news—”

  “Who is it, Lillian?”

  “It’s Emma and Eli.”

  “Shut the door, Lillian.” His voice was stern and brusque.

  Eli reached out a hand and held the door open. “Abraham, sir, we’ve come to tell you we’re getting married.”

  Abraham stepped forward. He was a tall, imposing man who’d always seemed to tower over her and her mudder. His face, always thin under his long beard, looked gaunt. But his bushy eyebrows drew together in a frown, and anger twisted his mouth.

  “And you think this makes everything allrecht?” he boomed.

  “I don’t want you to be angry with Emma,” Eli said calmly. “It’s my fault what happened. I should have been better to her from the moment she came to me. She’s been through so much because I wasn’t there for her, and she was afraid to tell you she was in trouble.”

 

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