By the time the jam was ready to jar, it was time to start dinner. She strapped the baby to her bouncy seat on the kitchen table, ladled hot jam into sterilized canning jars and set them in a pot of water to boil and seal. Then she made a simple dinner of grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup.
Levy came in carrying two buckets of fresh milk, which he strained into oversize jars and set down in the basement to allow the cream to rise.
“I can make butter tomorrow if you have enough cream,” Jane offered when he came back up.
“Danke. I think there’s enough.” He sniffed. “Dinner smells good. I’m starving.”
While he ate, Jane lifted the jars of jam from the water bath and set them on a towel to cool.
“What inspired you to make jam?” Levy spoke with his mouth full.
“The amount of raspberries left unharvested. It seems sinful to let them go to waste.”
“This time of year there are more raspberries than I can sell, and they have to be picked fresh for the farmer’s market.” He rubbed his chin. “Maybe I can sell your jam too.”
“I can keep picking berries through the week, then, and make more jam. Be sure to build in the cost of the jars and lids, since they’re yours. I found them in the basement.”
“I’ll split the money with you, then. My supplies, your labor.”
“Deal.”
She felt a tentative truce was in effect, so she sat down and reached for a grilled cheese sandwich. Between them, the baby rested in her seat, making small motions with her hands.
“May I ask you a question?” Levy asked as he spooned up some soup.
“Ja.”
“Why are you here? What I mean is, why did you decide to come to stay with your aunt and uncle?”
It was the last question Jane expected, and she nearly choked on her sandwich. “Why do you want to know?”
“Just curious. Is it a big secret or something?”
“Nein... Nein, not really.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Yet it seems you left something behind in Ohio. Did I hire a woman of questionable background to watch Mercy?”
“Of course not.” She looked away, then heaved a sigh. “The truth is, the man I loved married my best friend. End of story.”
“Whoa. Sounds more like the beginning of a story to me.”
“I would rather not talk about it. It’s painful and it’s something I chose to leave behind me. It comes from having a best friend who was pretty. Very pretty. And that’s all I’ll say about the matter.” She stood up. “In fact, it’s time for me to go. Leave the dishes. I’ll do them tomorrow. Mercy’s been fed and diapered. See you tomorrow.”
She practically ran from the room and down the porch steps. Walking toward her aunt and uncle’s house, she was angry at how she’d handled his question.
Her heart was pounding like it was going to pop out of her chest. What did it matter if Levy knew about the reason why she came to Grand Creek? It was not, after all, a deep dark secret.
Yet she realized Levy was the last person in the world with whom she wanted to discuss her love life—or lack thereof. How awkward was it, after all, to discuss it with her employer? She had no intention of baring her soul to him.
Thoughts of Isaac receded as she began thinking more and more about Levy. Despite his stubborn refusal to give Mercy to another family to raise, he had many excellent qualities. He was hardworking, devout, loyal, clever, dedicated and—when he chose to be—kind. His rare smiles lit up his face and made her heart beat faster.
What did that matter to her? He didn’t see her as anyone attractive or interesting. And she refused to engage her heart where it wasn’t wanted. She did not intend to turn Levy into another Isaac, longing for a man who didn’t see her as a woman but merely as a tool.
“What is the matter with me, Gott?” she whispered. She seemed to settle her interest on men who didn’t—or couldn’t—return the interest. Was she unlovable? Or was she destined only to love those who couldn’t love her back?
Chapter Six
With some amusement, Levy watched Jane flee from the house. So she’d left her heart behind in Ohio, had she? Smiling, he shook his head at her embarrassment. And found himself curious about her.
He was determined to pry those secrets out of her one way or another.
He went about caring for Mercy—a bit more comfortable now, thanks to Jane’s baby lessons—and barely paid attention to why he was so interested in Jane’s past.
Because he was interested. Not just in her life before she got to town, but in her. She was a unique package, unlike any woman he’d met before. On the surface she seemed quiet and demure, even plain. But underneath? He sensed a strong streak of stubbornness and, more importantly, strength. Strength of character, strength of integrity. He admired that in a woman.
He grinned at Mercy as she tried out a tentative smile at him. She was certainly an adorable boppli. “Come, little one,” he said as he gathered her up in his arms. “Let’s think of a way to pry your nanny’s story out of her, shall we?”
* * *
When she arrived at her aunt and uncle’s, Jane found Catherine just making some tea. “Gut’n owed, how went your day?”
“Fine. Fine.” Jane gulped.
Catherine looked at her. “What happened?”
“Oh nothing.” Jane dropped down into a chair. “Except I dodged some questions from Levy about why I left Jasper and came here. It was...awkward.”
Her aunt prepared a second mug of tea and placed it on the table for Jane. “Why was he asking?”
“It just came up.”
Her aunt frowned. “Was he flirting?”
“No!” Her denial came too quick. “Of course not.”
“Because if he was, you could do worse,” continued her aunt. “Levy’s a gut man.”
“Tante Catherine, please. Don’t play matchmaker.”
“Ja, sure.” Her aunt looked unconvinced. “But you’re young and pretty, so it’s normal for me to wonder who’d make a gut husband for you.”
“Pretty? I’m nothing of the sort.” Jane shoved her glasses back up her nose. “Don’t you know lying is a sin?”
“I’m not lying, liebling. You just have no confidence in yourself.”
“Maybe not.” Jane toyed with the tea strainer in her mug. “Years of experience, I guess.”
Catherine sipped her tea. “There’s been no one special for you? No rides home from singings?”
“Nein.” Jane laughed with the very tinge of bitterness that had concerned her mother. “And the ironic thing is, my gift from Gott is I’m wonderful with babies. I can soothe any baby. I figured that out when I started babysitting for neighbors. Then I began getting hired as a mother’s helper for women who’d just had babies. I don’t like to think it’s hochmut that I’m so gut with bopplin, but it’s my gift. That’s why Levy asked me to care for little Mercy. But am I likely to have bopplin of my own? Nein...” Her voice rose.
“Jane, stop it.” Catherine spoke sternly. “You’re being melodramatic now. You don’t know what Gott has in store for you, but it’s not likely to be a life of minding other peoples’ babies. You’re only twenty-three. There’s plenty of time yet.”
“Easy for you to say...”
“Jane, do you remember your baptism?”
Startled at the abrupt change of subject, she stared at her aunt. “Of course.”
“Do you remember what you promised during the ceremony?”
“Ja, sure, I remember.”
“What did you promise?”
“To walk with Christ and His church, to remain faithful through life until death, to confess Jesus is the Son of Gott, to abide by the Ordnung and be obedient and submissive to it...” It wasn’t hard to rattle off the vows she’d taken, even though her baptism had been four years
ago.
“Gut. You do remember. Then why are you failing to keep those vows?”
Jane’s jaw dropped open. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, you’re fighting Gott every step of the way. You fought Him when Isaac married your best friend. You fought Him over coming here to stay with us. You’re fighting Him now, by questioning your appearance and your talents.”
Chastened, Jane remained silent while she tried to process her aunt’s words. They stung. “So you’re saying it’s Gott’s will that I’m a spinster and likely to remain so?”
“I don’t presume to know Gott’s will. But—this is the thing you’re forgetting—neither do you.”
Tears welled up again, and one large one slid down her cheek and onto the table.
Catherine’s face softened. “You’re impatient, child. You want it all now and aren’t willing to wait for Gott to work according to His will, not yours.”
Jane heaved a huge and shuddering sigh. “You’re right, Tante Catherine. I have been railing against Gott. It’s just been so hard watching my sister and all my friends get married. Isaac and Hannah were the last straw.”
The older woman patted Jane’s hand. “Don’t think we aren’t thrilled to have you stay with us, no matter what difficulties you left behind in Jasper. But that’s all behind you now. You have a whole new life to look forward to here. You need to have more confidence in yourself, child.”
“I guess.” Jane wiped her eyes. “I can’t help but wonder if the people I’ve met so far are just being friendly because I’m new in town.”
“Nonsense. You’re not making friends out of pity, you’re making friends because people like you. New friends are gut to have. I’m glad to see you so outgoing.”
“It’s a struggle,” Jane admitted. “But Rhoda—she’s one of those new friends—told me I wouldn’t get to know everyone unless I went to youngie events. She’s right. I know I have to get out more, even if Levy doesn’t think so.”
Her aunt raised her eyebrows. “Levy doesn’t think it’s good for you to have friends?”
“Well nein, he didn’t quite say that. But he admitted he was projecting his sister’s behavior on me. He apologized later and said he kept thinking about how his sister was so sociable right before she disappeared.”
Catherine looked thoughtful. “Ach, poor man. And poor Eliza. He’s right, she was very sociable. I think he believes that’s when she started going down the wrong path. Most of the problem is he doesn’t know where she is or what she’s doing. The fact that she sent a baby for him to raise breaks his heart because he worries that the worst possible fate has befallen her.”
“I had a lot more sympathy for him after I envisioned how I would feel if any of my sisters left the community.” Jane sighed. “My problems seem a lot less important by comparison. I’ll try to have a better attitude, Tante. I don’t know what Gott has in store for me, but I’ll try to be more patient.”
* * *
Levy found himself looking forward to seeing Jane the next morning. He was determined to learn something about this mysterious past she’d alluded to.
But that would have to wait. He had work to do, and he felt the familiar stress arise as Mercy seemed inconsolable that morning, wailing without end.
Jane entered the house without knocking. “I could hear her crying from the road,” she observed. “Apparently those baby lessons I’ve been giving you haven’t sunk in yet.”
He handed over the baby, and as if on cue, Mercy quieted down right away. He shook his head. “I don’t know how you do it.”
“Then you need more lessons.” She gave him a cheerful smile. “Is there anything special you’d like for lunch?”
“Uh, no...” He thrust a hand through his hair. “You seem chipper this morning. Are you feeling okay?”
“Never better.” She gave him a sunny smile and turned toward the kitchen. “If I’m making butter this morning, maybe I’ll use some of it for biscuits with lunch. Biscuits and gravy. And maybe a potato casserole too.”
“Ja, that sounds gut.” He gave her a puzzled look and left the kitchen.
All morning as he hoed and weeded and picked and cultivated, he wondered about her change in attitude. Yesterday afternoon she seemed anxious. Today she was cheerful. What a mercurial woman she was.
“The man I loved married my best friend,” she’d said yesterday.
Evidently that had been painful enough to send her fleeing from the security of her hometown, her parents and siblings, her church.
He found himself wondering just how attached she still was to this man she’d loved.
Before he knew it, it was lunchtime. When he returned to the house, he entered the kitchen and saw newly churned butter in a bowl on the counter, and fresh biscuits and gravy on the table. Jane was just pulling a potato casserole from the oven. Mercy sat quietly in her seat on the counter, watching Jane with large blue eyes.
“I don’t know how you do it,” he repeated as he washed his hands at the sink. “You get all this work done and Mercy stays quiet. With me, she never settles down.”
“I’m sure part of it is because you’re still nervous with her.” Jane brought the bouncy seat and baby to the table, and placed Mercy in the middle as a centerpiece.
After the silent blessing, Levy reached for the biscuits. “So...why are you so cheery today?”
“I had a nice discussion with my tante yesterday after work,” Jane admitted. She dished some potato casserole onto her plate.
“Does this have anything to do with the topic you avoided with me yesterday evening?” He split open the biscuits and ladled gravy over them.
He watched the changing expressions on Jane’s face as some of her cheer seemed to evaporate. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
But Levy was determined to get her to open up—not just to satisfy his own curiosity, but because a small part of him wondered if his failure to listen to his sister’s concerns when she was younger might have played a factor in her disappearance.
Jane was not like Eliza, of course. But perhaps she would like a sounding board just the same.
“So how long were you in love with that young man from your hometown?” he asked abruptly.
She glared at him. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me. How long were you in love with him?”
“Levy, that’s none of your business.”
“Maybe not, but don’t you think it would be good to unburden yourself? You seem weighed down with something.”
“I’m not burdened.”
“Then why are you so defensive?” He took a bite of a biscuit.
“Because... Because...” He saw tears in her eyes.
He suddenly felt bad that her mood had taken a downturn, but he persisted. “Look, Jane, after seeing what happened to my sister, I think it’s important to share burdens. It helps lighten the load. Won’t you tell me?”
She stared at her plate, and Levy wondered if she would refuse to answer. Mercy gave a coo into the silence.
Finally she spoke in a low voice, still staring at her plate. “We went to school together, me, Isaac and Hannah. I had a crush on Isaac since I was, I don’t know, maybe thirteen or fourteen. But he only had eyes for Hannah.”
“Did he know how you felt?” Levy kept his voice gentle.
“Hannah is beautiful, and I’m... I’m not. I can’t blame him for wanting to marry her.”
Ah, so that was the crux of the matter. Jane thought she wasn’t beautiful.
“And you think this Isaac only married your friend because she was prettier?” he persisted.
“It certainly was a factor in his decision. Why wouldn’t it be?” Jane raised her head.
“If that was his only reason for marrying your friend, then he’s a fool,” proclaimed Levy. “Seems rather shallow.”
&
nbsp; “Maybe so, but what does it matter?” She shoved her glasses farther up on her nose. “It seems to be the way men think.” She gave him a grim smile. “But you’d know that better than I would.”
“Nein, I wouldn’t. That’s not the way I think.” He saw skepticism on her face and continued, “You know very well Gott only sees the inside of a person, not the outside.”
“Ja, sure. I’m grateful beyond words too, or I’d be in trouble. But it also meant Isaac only had eyes for Hannah, not me. And I didn’t realize how much that hurt.”
“And so you came here.”
“My mamm said I needed a change of scenery because I was growing bitter and cynical.”
“And what do you think of Grand Creek so far?”
“From what I’ve seen, I like it. Everyone seems very friendly. Speaking of which,” she added, in a clear attempt to change the subject, “I’ve been invited to a hot dog roast this evening.”
Instantly stress flooded through him as the implication sank in. “Oh. That means I’m in sole charge of Mercy.”
“I’m sure you’ll do fine.”
“It’s not just her physical care, though you’ve seen how bad I am at that. But I was going to work later into the evening and try to get a jump on things.”
“In other words, you want me to work late.” There was a touch of annoyance in her voice.
“Nein... Nein, I didn’t say that...”
“Look, would it help to take Mercy with me?”
“Take a baby to a youngie event?” He raised his eyebrows.
She took another bite of casserole, then tickled Mercy’s feet. “At this age, she shouldn’t be much trouble.”
“Are you sure? Because I’ll freely admit, it would be a big help if you did.”
Amish Baby Lessons Page 7