Then Leah cleaned up John’s face with a wet washcloth, lifted him from his highchair, and handed him to Eli.
“Kumm,” she said to Emma and Hannah. “I want you to see what I’ve done to the dawdi haus.”
They walked into the addition off the kitchen where the eldres moved when they turned over the work of the farm and gave the house to the next generation to raise their kinner.
Leah had chosen a sunny yellow paint for the walls. “Eli’s done most of the work painting.” She glanced around the smaller kitchen and dining area before leading them into the bedroom where Eli and Gideon had already moved her bed. A Sunshine and Shadow quilt covered the bed, and a vase filled with daffodils sat on the bedside table.
Emma bit her lip. “You’re schur you don’t want to keep your room upstairs? I mean, you shared it with David for so many years before he passed. I don’t want you to feel pushed out.”
“It’s time for a change,” Leah told her. “It’s time to move on to the next chapter.”
Her own eldres would do that one day, Emma mused as she stood at the back door and looked out on the small porch, where Leah had set two rocking chairs around a small table and grouped pots of spring flowers.
How gracious this woman was being about giving up her home to Emma and John.
Leah took her hand and squeezed it. “We’re all going to be happy here.”
But Gideon, Emma couldn’t help thinking. Was Gideon going to feel comfortable?
She glanced at Hannah but couldn’t read anything in her expression. And she didn’t think she should ask her if she knew Gideon had been talking to Cassie that afternoon.
It was all so confusing. She needed to talk to Eli.
* * *
A little while later, Gideon and Hannah offered to do the dishes so Eli could drive Emma and John home.
“So did you get to talk to Gideon and find out why he was talking to Cassie this afternoon?” she asked the minute they were in the buggy.
He glanced back at the house as he called “Giddyap!” to Ned. “I did. But I can’t tell you unless you can keep a secret.”
“Of course I can keep a secret!” she huffed when he gave her a skeptical look.
“He’s looking for a place for Hannah and himself.”
“Then he’s going to ask her to marry him! I knew it!” She sat back and grinned.
“Don’t you dare tell her.”
“I won’t!”
“I want to help him somehow.”
“What, be there when he asks her to marry him?” she teased.
“Nee, silly.” He reached for her hand and kissed her knuckles. “After Daed left us the farm Gideon and I made this pact. The first one to marry would live in the farmhouse. I always thought it would be him.” He turned to look at her. “Until you and John.”
Emma burst into tears.
“Emma! What’s this about?”
“Everyone’s giving up so much for us. Gideon shouldn’t have to leave his home. He’s lived in it all his life.”
“Familyes do this,” he told her. “When it comes time for your dat to stop farming, one of your bruders will take over and your eldres will move into the dawdi haus at your old home. Your other bruders and schweschders will find places of their own.”
He watched her dig a tissue from her apron and wipe her tears. “I know. I’m just feeling a little emotional with us getting married next week. Your mudder showed me how she was fixing up the dawdi haus and she was so gracious about it.”
“She loves you and wants you to be happy.” He hesitated. “She had this idea that maybe all of us could live in the house. You, me, John, Gideon, and Hannah. We could build on as our familyes grew.”
“Really?”
“Ya.” He gave her a cautious look. “What would you think of that?”
“I love your mudder and Hannah is my best friend. I think it could work. Don’t you?”
Eli hesitated. “Could three women share a home?”
“I don’t think I like the question,” she responded testily.
“Ouch.” He searched for the right words. “Wouldn’t a woman want her own kitchen?”
“Your mudder would have her own in her dawdi haus. That just leaves Hannah and me sharing a kitchen. She’s been the best friend I’ve had here.”
He nodded.
“And as you say, we could add on to the house.”
They rode along in silence for a few minutes.
“I don’t like the idea of him and Hannah not having what we do,” she told him and he heard the sadness in her voice. “It doesn’t feel right.”
“I think Gideon wants them to have their own home, so he’s looking into making that happen.” He frowned. “But I don’t know how he can afford it.”
Eli pulled over to the right of the road to let a car pass. Then, after checking for traffic, he pulled back onto the road. “He likes Hannah’s eldres but I think he wants them to go straight to their own place. Not live with them while they save up.”
He glanced at the fields they passed as they rode toward town. “It doesn’t seem fair to me that he’s having to find a home. I just moved right into farming for my job, but he had to buy his shop. And now he has the additional expense of a home.”
She squeezed his hand. “Maybe there’s some way we can help.”
“How?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. We’ll have to think about it. Pray about it. Everything’s working out for us. It has to for Gideon and Hannah.”
He grinned at her. “Has to, huh?”
She nodded vigorously. “Ya. It just has to.”
She glanced into the back seat and saw that John had nodded off with one of his stuffed toys clutched in his hand. “God has a plan for all of us. Every single one of us.”
Eli couldn’t argue with that. He’d thought he knew what he wanted, and then he found what happened was so much better.
As usual John didn’t wake when Eli lifted him from his seat. He just snuggled closer into Eli’s arms and made a funny little sound of contentment as Eli carried him into the motel room and lay him gently in his crib.
After the rest of his things were moved from buggy to room—who knew one little boppli needed so much?—Eli said goodbye and started out the door.
“I don’t get a goodbye kiss?” Emma asked with a laugh.
He turned back. “Sorry, I’ve just got a lot on my mind.” He swept her into his arms and gave her a long, romantic kiss.
“Wow,” she said when he released her. “Wow.”
Chuckling, he sauntered on out to the buggy. But all the way home he thought about what Emma had said. While he and Gideon often still drove their mudder crazy with their bickering, they loved each other. There had to be some way he could help him find a home.
He turned into his drive and parked near the barn. But he didn’t get out right away. Instead he looked out at the fields…and upon row upon row upon row of corn stalks tall as a man. They seemed to go on forever.
An idea came to him out of the blue. It was so wild and crazy he glanced up to see if tonight was a full moon and he’d gone ab im Kopp.
He jumped out of the buggy, startling Ned, and unhitched the buggy. “It’s allrecht, Ned. Didn’t mean to scare you.”
He led the horse into his stall, made schur he had water, then he hurried into the house. The kitchen was empty, which suited him fine. He pulled a pad of paper and a pencil from the kitchen drawer and sat down at the table with his cell phone.
First thing in the morning he had some phone calls to make.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Gideon hung up his cell phone and leaned back in his chair at the kitchen table. The call hadn’t been gut news. After an intense day of searching Cassie had called to say she hadn’t come up with any suitable properties to show him in his price range.
She’d asked him if he thought he could increase his budget. He’d promised to look into it, but after doing some figuring out on some pape
r he’d had to call her back and say that wasn’t possible.
“So where does that leave me?” he’d asked Cassie.
“I’ll keep looking,” she promised. “Don’t get discouraged.”
But it was hard not to let it bother him. He glanced down at the notes he’d made on a pad of paper and sighed.
His mudder walked into the room. “I thought you were going to fry some chicken for your picnic with Hannah.”
“I am.”
“Then you’d better get started. It doesn’t just take a few minutes.”
Gideon glanced at the clock on the wall. Time had gotten away from him. “Wasn’t watching the clock.” He shoved the pad of paper and pencil in the drawer behind him and rose.
“What’s wrong?” she asked as she turned the gas flame up under the teakettle. “You seem a bit down.”
He shrugged. “Just doing some thinking.”
He stood and went to the refrigerator for the bowl of chicken he had soaking in buttermilk, then gathered the other ingredients and lined them up on the kitchen counter near the stove.
“Stop me if I’m doing anything wrong,” he said as he beat an egg in a small bowl and put flour in another.
“You’ll do fine.” When the water was hot she made a cup of tea then she sat at the table to drink it.
“You’ve forgotten how bad my first attempt was. It was nice and golden brown on the outside and raw in the middle.”
“You just got impatient the first time you fried it and didn’t let it fry long enough. It wasn’t a loss. We just put it in the oven and let it finish cooking.”
Gideon frowned as he set a cast-iron skillet on the stove and turned the flame up under it. “Eli says I’m as slow as molasses on a winter morning.”
“You’re patient and steady. Those are gut qualities.”
He added shortening to the skillet and waited until it was hot. Then he dipped pieces of chicken in the beaten egg, rolled them in flour, and placed them in the skillet. Once they were all arranged to his satisfaction he went to the sink and washed his hands. Soon the kitchen filled with the delicious scent of frying chicken. He watched it carefully, turned it as needed, and didn’t rush the process.
And as he cooked he worked out in his head what he would say to Hannah as they ate the chicken by the pond.
Today was the day he needed to talk to her. He didn’t know yet how he could propose as he wanted to when he had no idea what their living arrangements would be. He needed to do some serious thinking. Fast.
* * *
An hour later, Hannah climbed into Gideon’s buggy and smiled at him. “So, where are we going?”
“It’s such a pretty day I thought we’d go for a picnic. Maybe a nice drive afterward.”
She remembered the last time they’d gone for a picnic after church. “Sounds wunderbaar.”
Hannah glanced into the back seat and saw the wicker picnic basket. “I thought I was supposed to bring the food next time we went for a picnic.”
“I know you’ve been busy, so I brought our lunch. Where would you like to eat?”
“The pond,” she said instantly. “It was so nice to sit by it last time.”
They chatted as they rode to the farm, and after he parked by the barn they got out and walked hand in hand down the path to the pond.
Gideon spread an old quilt on the grassy slope by the water and they sat down. She gazed out at the glassy surface that reflected the blue of the sky above.
“Such a pretty spot,” she said as she watched a gentle breeze stir wildflowers on the edge of the pond.
Gideon lifted the lid of the basket and she sniffed. “Something smells delicious.” She watched him take out paper plates and several plastic containers. He opened one and held it out to her.
She stared in disbelief at the contents “Fried chicken? You made fried chicken?”
“Mamm helped me. We had plenty of time for a chicken-frying lesson, since it wasn’t a church Sunday.”
She chose a chicken wing and bit in. “Mmm, it’s delicious.”
He picked up a leg and admired the crispy golden brown skin before he took a bite. “Ya, it’s pretty gut if I do say so myself.”
“I wish mine had turned out so well the first time I fried it,” she told him. “It was nice and brown like this on the outside but raw inside.”
Gideon peered closely at the leg. “That happened when I fried chicken the first time, too. We baked it ’til it was done that time. Today I tried not to be impatient and take it out of the skillet too soon. Mamm showed me how to fry it at the right temperature then check it for doneness.”
He set the leg down on a paper plate and put a spoonful of potato salad on her plate, then on his.
“I’m impressed,” she said after she sampled a bite.
“I think every man should have to try frying chicken,” he told her. “Then we might appreciate it more when someone makes it for us.”
Hannah chuckled. “It’s not easy.”
She’d made fried chicken for several of their picnics in the past and was glad he now knew how much work it involved. She took another wing—her favorite piece—and looked at him.
“Maybe you should try making biscuits next,” she told him. “Then you’d see why my mudder’s are better than mine. Like I’ve said, she’s been making them for a lot more years than me.”
“Ouch.”
“Seriously, I do appreciate your going to so much trouble.” She finished her chicken and refused another piece, but indulged in a little more potato salad.
He opened a container of cookies, and her eyes widened when she saw they were chocolate chip with pecans.
“My favorite. You baked my favorite cookies.” She bit into one. “Mmm. Perfect.”
“Again, Mamm helped me,” he admitted. “She called your mudder for the recipe.”
He poured her a cup of lemonade and handed it to her.
“You went to so much trouble.” She swallowed the last bite of her cookie and washed it down with the tart, sweet lemonade.
Then she looked at him and felt the warmth of his gaze. A little shiver ran down her spine in spite of the warmth of the day.
“I wanted things to be special,” he told her as he took her hand. “I brought you here because I wanted to explain something,” he said at last. “When my dat died he left the farm to Eli and me.”
“I know.”
He shook his head and looked at her. “Let me finish. Eli and I talked about what would happen when one of us married. We decided that whoever married first would live in the farmhouse. I had everything all planned out,” he told her. “I was going to ask you to marry me. And we’d get married after the harvest.”
Her heart fell. All she could hear was the word “was.” She forced herself to continue listening to him.
“But I didn’t propose in time. Along came John, and then everything changed.”
She couldn’t understand how John changed things. Gideon must have noticed her confusion. “Eli is getting married first. He and Emma and John will be living here.”
She nodded. “That’s as it should be.”
“Don’t you understand?” he asked, looking exasperated. “Now I have nothing to offer you.”
“Let me see if I understand,” she said, feeling an unaccustomed temper rising to the surface. “You think I don’t want to marry a man if he doesn’t come with property attached?”
“A man wants to feel he’s providing a home,” he told her stiffly.
“So, you brought me here today to tell me why you aren’t going to ask me to marry you?” she retorted. “To let me down easy if I’d been expecting something from you after all the time we’ve spent together?”
She jumped to her feet and he stood as she did.
“Hannah, calm down, let me finish.”
“Oh, you’re finished! I don’t want to hear any more!” she cried and pushed him aside.
Then she watched in horror as he lost his balance and tu
mbled into the pond.
Appalled at losing her temper, she stared at him sitting in waist-high water looking stunned. She started to offer him a hand to help him out but before she could he stood and climbed out.
“Hannah, let me explain!”
Shaking her head, she turned and rushed back up the path to the house.
Eli came out of the barn as she reached it. “Hannah! What are you doing here?”
“Pushing your hardheaded bruder into the pond.”
“What?” He stared at her in shock.
She ignored him and continued on down the driveway. Maybe by the time she walked home she’d have cooled off. But she didn’t think so.
* * *
Gideon stomped toward the house, dripping wet and carrying the picnic basket and quilt.
“What happened?” Eli asked as he hurried toward him.
Gideon just muttered under his breath and headed toward the house. Eli grabbed at his arm but he shook him off. Just as Gideon reached to open the kitchen door Eli grabbed him again.
“I don’t think you should take this into the house,” Eli said with a smirk as he plucked a lily pad from Gideon’s shoulder and tossed it down on the porch.
Gideon glared at him then went inside, set the picnic basket on the table, and headed up the stairs to the bathroom. His boots squished with every step.
“Are you going to tell me what happened?” Eli asked.
“I fell in the pond. Allrecht?” Gideon began pulling off his sodden clothes and dumping them into the sink.
Eli reached over and plucked a water weed from his bruder’s head. “That’s not what Hannah said. She told me she pushed you in.”
“What else did she say?” Gideon knocked the damp plant from his hand.
“That was all.” He picked up the plant and tossed it into the wastepaper basket.
Gideon climbed into the tub, yanked the shower curtain closed, and turned on the water.
“Are you going to talk to me?”
“Nee.” He heard the toilet flush and the shower turned cold.
Gideon yelped, yanked open the shower curtain, and stuck his dripping head out. He glared at Eli. “What did you do that for?”
The Amish Baby Finds a Home Page 20