A Simple Autumn: A Seasons of Lancaster Novel (16 page)

A few minutes later, when Hannah asked a customer about the weather, Annie couldn’t
help but smile. Hannah was trying her best, but it would take time. The gift of gab
was going to take a while, but patience was a virtue. If Hannah could learn how to
make small talk, Annie could learn patience.

When Annie and Hannah got home from the tea shop that night the living room was filled
with boxes and bags. Sarah and Perry were packing everything they could fit in the
van—a dresser and a hope chest, and so many bags and boxes. Sunny kept barking at
the suspicious piles of boxes.

“Does she think they’re cows?” Perry joked.

“A fine watchdog we have,” Annie said as she ushered the dog out the door. After that,
she avoided that room, not wanting the reminder of what would happen tomorrow.

After dinner, Annie savored the chance to tuck little Mark in for the last time. Tonight
he didn’t want to go up, and she swept him into her arms to plant ticklish kisses
on his neck until he surrendered.

When his dull whine gave way to giggles, and he stopped squirming, he looked up at
her, his eyes twinkling with sleepiness. “A book?” he asked.

“We can read lots of books.” Her heart was full as she carried him up the stairs,
with Sunny following on her heels. She let Mark toddle around the room to pick out
his favorite bedtime stories as she and Sunny sat by the crib, just watching. Such
a busy boy. He opened each book and spoke a language that only he understood, but
that was the beauty of being a child.

“All right, dear one.” She picked him up, kissed his soft cheek, and lowered him into
his crib. Mark lay on his side, watching her as she pulled the chair close and began
to read.

She turned the pages, her eyes barely skimming the words.

I know these books by heart!

Of course she did. All these nights of reading to her nephews, the stories had become
nighttime lullabies. Sunny yawned. Even the dog could have recited the stories if
she knew how to talk.

Annie held the book up to the crib to show Mark a picture, but he had fallen asleep.
A golden ringlet of hair fell over his forehead, and the lantern light caught the
milky glow of his skin.

Sorrow was heavy on her heart. Not just the pain of saying good-bye. Watching little
Mark sleep, she suddenly understood why Sarah’s departure was hitting her so hard.
Mark and Levi were the center of her life … but they weren’t her children.

Her throat felt tight with emotion over her own sad state.

Oh, why had she wasted so much time waiting on Adam? She should be married by now,
with children of her own. Instead, folks were calling her an old maid.

Twenty years old, and no marriage on the horizon.

A whimper escaped her throat, and she curled forward as warm tears flooded her eyes.

Dear Gott, in my heart I know You made me to be a mother … to have children. This
is my gift. Why can’t I find my way to the right path?

After having a good cry last night, Annie felt stronger when she got out of bed Friday
morning. She was determined to make it through the good-bye without tears. Right now
Sarah needed her support, and she didn’t want to be the cause of more sadness for
her sister.

If it weren’t for the cartons blocking the living room, the day
would have seemed like any other. Levi and Mark helped Annie fetch eggs and feed the
chickens, then they headed over to bottle-feed the bummer lamb, who had taken to following
around Sunny, the family dog.

“Your little lamb thinks it’s a dog,” Dat said, pausing in his chores. “When I went
into the barn this morning, I found the lamb sleeping beside Sunny, nestled up in
the crook of her belly.” His eyes twinkled as he recalled the sight.

“Aw!” Levi’s brows shot up as he cooed over the lamb. “Were you looking for your mamm?
Don’t you know you’re not a dog?”

Mark leaned forward to stroke the lamb, mimicking his older cousin. “Not a dog,” he
echoed.

Annie took a deep breath, sure that Gott was making the children extra sweet today
so she would have more moments to cherish in her memories.

When they returned to the house, the white van was parked out front, its doors hanging
open. Boxes sat on the ground near the rear cargo area. Perry and the driver were
trying to figure out what to load first, while Dat, Daniel, and Jonah carried more
cartons and bags out of the house.

“Look at the big car!” Levi stared in wonder. “Can I have a ride in it?”

“Not today.” Annie scooped up Mark and put a hand on Levi’s shoulder to keep him away
from the commotion. “That van is for Mark and his parents. They’re going off to their
new home in New York.”

Levi frowned. “I don’t want them to go.”

“I don’t either,” Annie said, watching as the boxes disappeared into the back of the
big van. She had thought she’d be upset by the sight of the vehicle, but there was
too much excitement in the air to feel sad. “Let’s go into the kitchen and get out
of the men’s way.” She steered Levi around to the side door.

Sarah stood in the doorway, nervously watching the men, while Mamm fussed over a tin
of cookies she was packing for the trip.

“Would you rather have chocolate-chip or cranberry-walnut?” Lovina asked.

“I don’t know,” Sarah said, still peeking into the living room.

“Mamm …” Rebecca looked up from her knitting. “I’m sure they have cookies in New York.”

“But they have a long trip. Don says it’s six and a half hours.”

Annie shuddered at the thought. She couldn’t imagine traveling so far from home. Six
and a half hours by automobile would take days to travel by horse and carriage. She
took a seat beside Rebecca and pulled Mark onto her lap for some last-minute cuddling.

“I wonder what kind of cookies Don likes,” mused Lovina. Don was a local Mennonite
man whom Annie’s family hired to drive long distances.

“Well, if they’re hungry, they’ll be wanting more than cookies,” Rebecca said dryly.

“That’s why I packed them a cooler of sandwiches and apples.” Mamm pressed the cover
onto the tin and brought it to Sarah. “Do you have the sandwiches I made for you?”

“I put them on the seat of the van, so they’ll be handy once we get going.”

Lovina handed Sarah the tin. “Good thinking.”

“That’s it.” Perry appeared in the doorway, his face flushed with excitement. “The
van is packed. I guess it’s good-bye for now.”

Annie held tight to Mark, not wanting to let him go.

“Kumm, give me a hug.” Lovina took Sarah into her arms. “I’m missing you already,
but I’m excited for you, too.”

“Denki, Mamm.” Sarah was all smiles.

Suddenly, everyone was moving out the door, hugging and kissing, surrounding the van.
Annie blinked, loving the excitement but feeling as if she were caught in a dream.
This couldn’t be real. Someone
lifted Mark from her arms, and she lunged to kiss his cheek before he was buckled
into a fancy padded child seat in the van.

When Sarah hugged her, Annie sank against her sister and held on tight. She wanted
to hold on forever! But suddenly Sarah drew in a thin breath and leaned back. Her
blue eyes caught Annie’s in that no-nonsense way Sarah was known for.

“The offer is always open,” Sarah said. “Come live with us in New York.” Sarah lowered
her voice and added, “We’ll find you a proper beau there.”

A proper beau …

Right now a husband was the answer to Annie’s prayers, but she couldn’t imagine giving
up her home to find him. That would be like robbing Peter to pay Paul.

“Promise me you’ll think about coming to Lowville,” Sarah pleaded.

Unable to trust her voice, Annie could only nod. She would give it some thought.

Doors slammed. Sunny barked and circled the van, sensing that something was up. Last
farewells rang out through open windows, and then the engine roared.

As the van rolled down the lane, Annie forced a smile. Tonight, after the lights were
out, she would cry a river of tears in her bed. But for now it was best to be strong
and try to look on the bright side. Mamm always said that joy came to those with a
joyful heart. Well … she would try for joy.

The van was hidden by trees now, but no one turned away yet. Dat and Mamm stood side
by side, as did Daniel and Rebecca.

In that moment Annie felt the strength of the two couples’ love and commitment, and
she ached with loneliness. She was next in line to marry, and she would probably be
sewing her wedding dress now if she hadn’t made such a foolish choice about Adam King.
So many years of courtship wasted. After all this time it was
no surprise that there were few unattached men her age in their district.

Angry with herself, she drew in a deep breath and turned to see Jonah with Levi hitched
up on his shoulders. The little boy was waving madly from six feet in the sky.

She put her hands on her hips. “You grew up fast, Levi.”

“I can see everything from up here,” he said, his chipmunk voice full of awe. “Is
this what God sees?”

Laughter broke the tension as Jonah hoisted Levi higher, then lowered him gently to
the ground.

“That was fun.” Levi adjusted his hat, looking up at Jonah. “I’d like to do that again
sometime.”

There was no match for the pure honesty of a child. With a surge of love, Annie swept
toward the little boy. “Now that your cousin’s gone, I’ll have to get double the kisses
from you.”

“No!” Levi cried, dodging her. He ran in a circle and hid behind Jonah’s legs.

Hands on hips, Annie faced the two of them. “I’m going to get you. I’m going to hug
you and kiss you till your eyes bulge out!”

“No!” Levi giggled. “Save me, Jonah! Help me!”

Sunny barked, wanting in on the chasing game.

“Come on,” Annie teased. “Just one little kiss?”

Jonah looked down at Levi, then at Annie, his face serious now. “I was hoping you
were talking to me,” he told Annie.

That stopped her. She blinked up at him, feeling unsure until he cracked a smile and
everyone laughed.

She caught Levi, glad to turn away from everyone as she thought about what Jonah had
just said. The man had some sense of humor! The Quiet One was clever once you got
to know him.

And where was Hannah in all this?

Annie sighed as she hugged her nephew. When it came to matchmaking for those two,
she had a lot of work ahead.

D
isappointment clung to him. It was a bitter taste in the back of his throat that couldn’t
be washed down by all the lemonade Hannah Stoltzfus had tried to bring him.

Jonah reined in his horse at the top of the lane to check the main road for traffic.
He let a truck and two cars go by before nudging Jigsaw ahead. The horse picked up
his pace. Jonah figured he knew that home was the next stop, and he let him settle
into an easy trot. Jigsaw had been a gift from Jonah’s parents when he was sixteen,
an age when most Amish parents let their son choose an animal to make his own. Now,
all these years later, Jonah sometimes got the feeling that his horse could read his
mind.

Unlike some people he knew.

All this week he’d thought that Annie knew just what he was thinking. But it seemed
she thought he was thinking of her sister Hannah instead of her. He passed a row of
trees in fiery colors. Beyond the trees, Aaron Stoltzfus’s fields of mowed hay stretched
out, gentle hills dotted by rectangular bales of hay.

One day next week Jonah would bring his brothers over, along with any other neighbor
men willing to help, and they’d scour the fields, loading the horse-drawn cart with
bales—forty or fifty at a time. It was hard work, but when they were done Aaron would
have enough hay in storage to feed his horses through the winter. Now that Jonah had
taken the job with Aaron he was committed to helping him, though it wouldn’t be easy
with Annie always nearby, always pushing Hannah toward him.

And just a few days ago, he’d had such high hopes.

He urged the horse into a gallop, wanting to escape the day, run from the past week
of false hope and misunderstanding.