by Sarah Price
Edna caught Wilma making a face.
“And not just for you, of course, but for Bethany.”
“Pshaw!” Wilma waved her hand, clearly irritated by the direction of the conversation. “Girl’s just coddled too much.”
Verna cast a dark look in Wilma’s direction. “Funny, isn’t it? You said as much to me about Myrna right before she began working for Ezekiel last spring.”
Edna pressed her lips together. Uh-oh, she thought. It was going to be one of those days.
Wilma merely raised her eyebrows and coolly replied, “And see how loosening your apron strings helped her finally land a husband?”
Edna could see Verna bristle at the remark, so she quickly jumped in between the two women. Plastering a smile on her face, Edna gestured toward the ingredients on the counter. “Let’s get started, shall we? We’ve only a little bit of time before I need to tidy up for my guests, so no sense wasting it, ja?”
Half an hour later, the cookies were baking in the oven, and the women sat around the kitchen table, a pot of fresh coffee situated on a hot pad before them.
“So, I’ve some interesting news,” Verna announced as she picked at the cinnamon buns that Edna had set out for them to enjoy with their coffee.
“Oh ja?” Edna smiled at her friend.
Wilma waved a piece of her bun in the air. “Let me guess—”
But Verna didn’t give Wilma a chance. “Myrna and Ezekiel are expecting.”
Wilma slapped her hand on the edge of the table. “I knew it!”
“That’s wunderbarr!” Edna felt genuine joy for her friend. Oh, to have a baby in the house again, even if only for visits. “How’s she feeling?”
Wilma shoved the piece of bun into her mouth. “Took long enough.”
Verna ignored Wilma’s comment. “Just fine. A bit tired and all. But that’s to be expected. Although she sure was busy when I saw her yesterday, cleaning the haus and tending to Ezekiel’s little ones.”
“When is the blessed event to happen?” Despite her joy for her friend, Edna couldn’t help but feel a bit of sorrow. When would it be her time to share such good tidings?
“She’s due in February, God willing. She made me promise not to say anything, of course, until now.”
Wilma’s mouth opened, hanging agape.
Verna gave her a smug smile. “Seems it didn’t take them so long after all, eh?”
“Hmph.”
With a satisfied sigh, Verna returned her attention to Edna. “Now that Myrna’s all settled into married life, it’s time for our next project, don’t you think?”
“Project?”
Verna laughed. “Well, you do have three eligible sons, Edna. It’s high time we find one of them a young woman to court.”
“Oh, that.” Edna pressed her lips together. She didn’t want to say anything about John and his apparent interest in Bethany, at least not until she was certain that it was reciprocated. And the Lord only knew whether or not Bethany shared John’s sentiments. “In due time, I suspect.”
Loud footsteps on the porch interrupted their conversation. Jeremiah walked inside, pausing to kick off his boots. Despite the cold temperature outside, they were still caked with gooey mud.
“You seen John, Maem?” he asked, nodding his head in acknowledgment to Wilma and Verna.
“You know he went to fetch Bethany.”
Verna clucked her tongue and tried to hide her amusement. “Mayhaps a project in the making?” she whispered to Wilma, but loud enough so Edna could hear.
Edna felt the color drain from her face. “Now, Verna . . .”
“Oh, don’t you ‘now, Verna’ me,” she retorted in a playful tone. “What a good match that would be. Don’t you think so?”
She did think so, but she wasn’t about to admit it.
“Besides, isn’t it about time you had little feet running through the haus again?” Verna gave her a broad smile. “Surely you don’t want me to be a grossmammi by myself!”
Edna picked up her coffee mug and sipped at it. “Honestly, Verna,” she said lightly as she suppressed a smile, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Bethany impatiently waited for the moment when the horse and black buggy would turn down the short driveway and stop in front of her house. For the past five minutes, she had been standing at the door, her black shawl already over her shoulders, as she waited. Behind her on the wall, the clicking of the clock echoed in the quiet kitchen.
She disliked being late. For anything. It stressed her out, increasing her anxiety, whenever she wasn’t on time. So, she had positioned herself to stare out the window so that she didn’t keep John waiting.
“Oh my.” Her mother limped out of the bedroom. She’d gone to fetch a sweater, for the house was colder than usual. “I hope that heater kicks in soon.”
Bethany glanced over her shoulder. “Daed forgot to turn it up this morning. I did it, though, so I reckon it’ll warm up soon enough.”
“I sure hope so. Makes it even colder when you can’t move around so much.” Her mother sank down into the recliner and raised the footrest. “It’s just been a week and I’m already tired of this cast.”
“I’m sure.” Bethany wasn’t surprised that her normally cheerful mother was complaining. Being restricted to a chair was definitely no fun. She returned her attention to the window. She wanted to be ready when the horse and buggy arrived.
Behind her, Mary sighed. “I’m going to miss going to Edna’s today to make cookies for worship.”
Bethany felt for her mother. It had been over a week since she had broken her leg. With the exception of Thanksgiving, she’d been confined to the house. And Bethany knew that her mother didn’t like being idle. The highlight of her week was always baking cookies with Edna, Wilma, and Verna. But Abram said it was too soon for Mary to be away from home for so long.
Truth be told, Bethany hadn’t remembered that her mother’s friends would be at Edna’s baking cookies. It made her feel worse knowing that her mother would be alone all day.
“Don’t forget to bring home cookies for us to take to worship.”
Bethany frowned. “Wilma will bring some for church.”
But Mary insisted. “Just bring some anyway, Bethany. You know I don’t like showing up empty-handed.”
This time, Bethany gave a soft laugh. “We never show up empty-handed.”
There was a long silence that filled the room, broken only by the clock. Bethany had almost forgotten that her mother was still in the room when she heard her sigh once again.
“Oh, how I wish I could go along with you.”
“Well, that wouldn’t be good for your leg, Maem,” she said softly. “Remember, the doctor said to stay off it for a week or so.”
“It’s been over a week.”
“Only just. Better to be safe than sorry, don’t you think?”
Bethany knew that her mother couldn’t argue with that advice.
“Be certain to send my regards to all of them. And let them know that Abram dropped off those cookies this morning at Yoders’.”
“I will.”
She heard her mother rustling some papers, most likely that week’s Budget newspaper. Both her parents poured over the newspaper each week, sometimes reading it two or three times before the next week’s issue arrived.
The sound of the horse’s hooves and buggy wheels caught her attention. “He’s here,” she mumbled and hurried out the door.
The cold air made her catch her breath. It clung to her lungs as she made her way to the buggy. Winter was her favorite time of year, but only when she didn’t have to leave the house.
The door slid open and a hand reached through the opening.
“Hurry! It’s warmer in here.”
Bethany took his hand and put her foot on the step. Once inside, she slid the door shut behind her.
“Smells like snow.”
Bethany shivered. “Oh ja? I never re
ally thought about snow having a smell.”
He reached behind the seat and retrieved a worn quilt. She wondered how many generations of Esh children had slept under it.
“Here, Bethany. Use this to cover your lap.”
As she started to take it, his hand brushed hers, and Bethany felt that increasingly familiar jolt. Her eyes fluttered upward and she saw that he watched her, his own blue eyes curiously studying her reaction. What was it about John Esh that brought crimson color to her cheeks and set her pulse racing?
“Can’t have you catching a cold now, can we?” he said, his voice low and comforting. “Maem would have no choice but to enlist the help of the Schwartz schwesters then, and we all know that wouldn’t work out so well.”
There was something about the way he said that—the Schwartz schwesters—that made her giggle. Just a little one, and she quickly covered her mouth with her hand, hoping that he hadn’t heard.
But he had. She could tell by the way he chuckled under his breath.
For the first few minutes, as the horse guided the buggy along the road away from Shipshewana, they didn’t speak. The silence began to grow uncomfortable, and Bethany wondered if she should say something.
“Danke for coming to get me,” she heard herself say.
John glanced at her as if contemplating whether or not to say something in response. Perhaps John hadn’t wanted to make the drive to fetch her. Perhaps Jonas hadn’t, either. Suddenly Bethany felt her chest tighten, a constriction that so often came with her panic attacks. Had she burdened the Esh family? Perhaps she should’ve just insisted upon fixing her bicycle. She’d need it for other things, anyway, like going to town and running errands.
When John cleared his throat, Bethany felt as if she might jump out of her skin.
“I told you I would,” he started slowly. “Actually, Daed suggested that Jonas pick you up this morning. Reckon he felt I didn’t care for driving all the way out here twice a day, especially since I usually go this way to the auction haus.” He paused and moistened his lower lip. “But I don’t mind, and I hope you don’t mind that I came in his place.”
She swallowed. What, exactly, did that mean? “I . . . I . . .” She wasn’t certain how to respond, and once again, she felt her cheeks heat up. “That’s fine, John.”
“Is it?”
Those two words, so short and succinct, caught her off guard. She couldn’t keep herself from lifting her gaze to look at him. She wasn’t exactly surprised to realize that his eyes had not ceased watching her. And yet, unlike her reaction when she was around other people, there was something comforting about John’s attention. He wasn’t pushy or forward. Instead, he seemed to be as reserved as she was.
When she realized that he was waiting for a response, Bethany bit her lower lip. How should she respond without appearing too eager? What if she was misreading the message behind his words?
“I . . . I enjoy your company,” she whispered.
If she had worried that she might appear too brazen, the expression of relief that washed over his face reassured her that her words had been perfectly chosen. For once, Bethany felt comfortable in the presence of a man who was not family.
Chapter Thirty
Mary could have been knocked over by a feather when Verna and Wilma surprised her with a visit on their way home from Edna’s house.
“Dropping off cookies for you!” Verna sang out as she swept into the room and dropped a container onto the counter.
“Oh, how thoughtful! I thought Bethany would bring some home, but this is ever so much better!” She tucked the blanket around her propped-up leg and gestured toward the chairs. “Sit for a while. Please.” It might have only been a week, but Mary suddenly realized how lonely and bored she’d been sitting in the recliner day in and day out. Aside from her friends’ visit on Wednesday, she hadn’t seen anyone but Bethany and Abram. She’d especially missed baking cookies with her friends at Edna’s house.
“How was everything at the Esh farm today?” she asked, although she cared more about how Bethany was making out than anything else that was going on at the farm.
Verna gave her a reassuring smile. “The haus was set up right nice already, and Edna seems to get on really well with Bethany.”
Mary beamed. “Oh?”
“Ja, for sure and certain. Your dochder sure is a hard worker. Mind you, we left just before the guests arrived, but she never once stopped bustling about the kitchen, cleaning up after us and making certain everything was ready for Edna’s people.”
The compliment pleased Mary. She was certainly thrilled to hear that Bethany was such a hard worker. Despite her joy, she knew better than to look at Wilma. Mary was fairly certain that such kind compliments about her two daughters rarely—if ever!—made their way to Wilma’s ears.
“I’m telling you,” Wilma said as she worked on the scarf she was making. “There is love in the air, you mark my words.” She pointed one of the needles at Mary. “Your dochder will be an Esh or my name isn’t Wilma Schwartz!”
“Oh?” Mary feigned ignorance, but she certainly suspected she knew that Wilma was referring to John. While Mary found the thought of such a union wonderfully pleasing, she did her best to hide her enthusiasm. She’d said nothing to Bethany about her own suspicions; she certainly wasn’t going to say anything to her friends.
“That John is such a nice young man,” Verna added. “And I know that Edna’s been worried about him for a while. It would be nice if he’d find someone to settle down with.”
Now Mary’s curiosity was really piqued. “Did she say something, then? About John?”
Verna shook her head. “Nee, she did not. But you know how private she is. Unlike some others.” She looked at Wilma when she spoke.
“Ha! I could say the same for you,” Wilma teased back. “But I will concur with Verna. John definitely seems to have eyes for Bethany.”
“Now, Wilma,” she said in a gentle but reproachful tone, “you really mustn’t speculate. That’s how feelings get hurt if things go sour.”
“Only thing sour in that household was the milk she used for making biscuits!” Wilma retorted briskly. “Why, that girl practically floated into the house after John brought her over.”
Verna leaned forward and added, “He kept hanging around the house, too.”
“Hm.” Wilma returned her attention to her knitting. “There’s a Christmas courtship happening right before our eyes, that’s for sure and certain.”
Mary laughed. “You’re putting the buggy before the horse, I fear. She’s only just started working for Edna.”
Still, the idea that her daughter was finally enjoying the attention of a young man pleased her. And a Christmas courtship would most certainly be fun for both of them.
“I think we could do a little more to put those two together, don’t you think?” Verna smiled in a conspiratorial way. “Mayhaps a few extra errands to run together?”
If Wilma had suggested such a thing, Mary wouldn’t have been surprised. But to hear it from Verna shocked her. “Why Verna! That’s—”
Wilma interrupted. “—brilliant!”
“That wasn’t the word I was going to use!”
Verna adopted an innocent look. “I don’t see anything wrong with helping them along a bit.”
But Mary did. “I will not interfere in my daughter’s life.”
“It’s not really interfering . . .”
“Verna!”
Wilma jumped to Verna’s defense. “I agree with Verna.”
Mary’s mouth dropped.
“Now listen, Mary,” Verna said. “A little nudge or two wouldn’t hurt, would it? They still have free choice to make up their own minds—”
“—which look made up already, mind you.”
“Right, Wilma!” Verna smiled and Wilma nodded. “We’re just helping to expedite the decision-making process.”
“That’s all.”
Mary narrowed her eyes and scowled at them. “‘
That’s all,’ she says.”
“Well, Bethany is rather shy, and John is quite conservative,” Verna continued. “A little encouragement might help them to open up to each other.”
Mary didn’t like this idea one bit. It was exactly what Abram had warned her about. “That’s meddling.”
“So?”
“Meddling is wrong.”
Verna and Wilma exchanged a look.
“I’m not so certain I want to meddle.” She pointed at each one of them. “And neither should either of you.”
Chapter Thirty-One
“Maem,” John said as he walked into the kitchen on Saturday afternoon, “I need to stop in town. Helping a friend with a project. Need anything?”
Bethany pretended to focus on washing the dishes, but inwardly her heart raced and her blood felt as if it was on fire.
“Nee, I don’t, but danke for asking, John.” Edna was busy counting money at the table, making a small pile of bills of various denominations. “Mayhaps, however, you could take Bethany home.”
Standing up, Edna took the pile of money and walked over to the young woman. “Thank you for all of your work, Bethany. Here’s for the past week.” She smiled at her. “I don’t think I could’ve done it without you.”
She felt awkward taking the money and slipping it into her pocket.
“Now, I can finish here and you go on home, then.”
Bethany’s eyes flew first to the clock and then shifted to John. “It’s still early though . . . Are you sure there isn’t something else that needs doing?”
Gently, Edna placed her hand on Bethany’s arm. “You’ve worked hard all week. And most of the cleanup is finished. Besides, if you don’t accept John’s ride, you might have to wait another hour or so until Jonas is finished.”
Satisfied, Bethany nodded and hung the dishcloth over the edge of the sink. She gathered her things and followed John outside. A light dusting of snow covered the walkway, and she held the railing as she walked down the porch steps.