Autumn Winds (20 page)

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Authors: Charlotte Hubbard

Tags: #Fiction, #Religious, #Christian, #Romance, #Amish & Mennonite

BOOK: Autumn Winds
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Hiram set his lips in a straight line, as though not to be drawn into this woman’s straightforward banter. No doubt he already sensed she was as confident and self-sufficient as Miriam Lantz . . . another one who needed watching. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I need to greet more of Miriam’s kin—”
“We brought a gift for ya, Bishop Knepp,” Aunt Nazareth said. Her voice and demeanor were generally less direct than her sister’s, and she smiled up at Hiram with an almost girlish glow. “But it’ll keep until you’ve got a minute.”
“A gift for me?” His eyes widened. “But it was Rachel and Micah who were married.”
“We believe in showin’ our appreciation up front—payin’ our way forward. We want to be
gut
guests while our Bennie and his brothers build that mill for ya.” Jerusalem pointed down the driveway, toward the portable pen. “So we brought ya the four best Alpine kids from our goat herd back home. Three does and a buck.”
Hiram’s jaw dropped. “I breed award-winning Belgians, Miss Hooley. What on God’s Earth do I want with
goats?
”
Nazareth blinked, then gazed up toward the sky as though beseeching heavenly guidance. Jerusalem’s bosom rose and fell with the deep breath she took. “Beggin’ your pardon, Bishop,” she said in a teacherly voice, “but maybe ya need a little brushin’ up on how to graciously accept a gift. Surely ya don’t respond so blunt-like when one of your own flock blesses ya with the fruits of their labor.”
For the first time ever, Ben saw Hiram Knepp rendered speechless. He bit back a grin, anticipating his aunt’s next volley of staunch Amish education as Josh and Joey raced around a cluster of wedding guests with little Sara toddling after them.
“Dat! Dat! We gotta get on over to the dinner—” one of the boys cried.
“—’cause there’s gonna be Preacher Tom’s ice cream with the cake!” his twin finished. “And we don’t want ya walkin’ out before we get some, like ya did at your birthday party!”
Aunt Nazareth calmly reached down to clasp each boy by a shoulder. “And who might you fine fellas be?” she asked in a low voice. “I’m Ben Hooley’s Aunt Nazareth, and if you’ll tell me your names, why—we might have a surprise for ya. All the way from Lancaster County.”
The five-year-old boys came to immediate attention—either out of curiosity or because Aunt Nazareth had them in a firmer grip than their
dat
might imagine.
“I’m Joey, and I’m five!”
“I’m Josh, and I’m the
gut
twin!”
“
Jah
, I can see that right off,” Aunt Jerusalem replied as she looked them over. “And I bet your
dat
was just like the both of ya as a youngster, sayin’ things were gonna be his way. Apples don’t fall far from the tree, ain’t so?” Without seeming to look at the girl toddling up to them, Aunt Jerusalem scooped Sara onto one hip. “And you’re the little sister, are ya?”
Sara nodded, wide-eyed, sticking her fingers in her mouth.
“That’s a perty little pinafore, probably special for today’s wedding,” Aunt Nazareth added, smiling at the shy girl. “We were gonna show the boys a surprise, but you come along, too. Our goats get on especially well with little girls.”
“Goats?” one of the twins murmured, wide-eyed.
“Ya brung us real, live goats?” his brother breathed as he gazed toward the pen. “Nobody hereabouts has billy goats—”
“We
brought
ya some of the cutest little creatures ya ever did see,” Aunt Nazareth confirmed as they started down the driveway. “But ya know, they need a keeper. Somebody who’ll feed them every day and keep them milked—”
“Me! I wanna do that!”
“No, me! I’m the best one at muckin’ out stalls!”
“It may well take
both
of you boys to care for them the way they’re supposed to be,” Aunt Jerusalem remarked in a firm voice. “But if I catch ya slackin’ or not puttin’ out fresh water—or treatin’ them mean—it’s back to Lancaster they go. All of God’s creatures need to be cared for every single day . . .”
“We—we’ll need to see you at the dinner soon,” Hiram called after them. The bishop was watching the little band of Hooleys and Knepps as though he didn’t know what had hit him. And when Annie Mae rushed up with Timmy on her hip, as though she’d been searching for her ornery little brothers, Hiram’s expression showed nothing short of amazement.
“Who’s that with the little ones?” the lanky young woman asked him.
Ben grinned, sensing this was just the beginning of a scheme only Jerusalem Hooley could cook up. “Those are my aunts, come along with us from Lancaster,” he replied proudly. “They’ve been schoolteachers over the years, fillin’ in when the younger girls got married. They were tickled to hear ya had siblin’s not yet in school—and they’ll be pleased to meet you and Nellie, too.”
For the first time ever, he saw Annie Mae Knepp smile. And right pretty she was, too. “I’ll go along with them, then,” she said, “to be sure Josh and Joey don’t act up.”
“If they do,” Ira put in with a grin, “it’s for sure and for certain those aunts’ll set them straight in a hurry.”
“And if ya wouldn’t mind sittin’ with us at tonight’s supper,” Luke joined in, “we’d like to meet your friends and the other single folks around here.”
At that suggestion, Hiram snapped out of his trance, but he remained calm. “Well, I do need to speak to a few other folks, and most especially to thank your brother-in-law, Moses Miller, for delivering the first sermon for us. Fine speaker. Excellent message.”
Miriam nodded. “
Jah
, he and Lovinia are right there in front of the Brennemans’ house,” she replied, pointing toward them. “He was wantin’ to visit with you, too, Bishop.”
As Hiram strode away, Ben felt a flutter in his stomach that had nothing to do with the aroma of baked chicken and stuffing that wafted across the yard. Miriam’s eyes were all a-sparkle as she grinned at him. “You’re a sly one, Ben Hooley, turnin’ your aunts loose on unsuspectin’ little boys—and their
dat
.”
The three Hooley brothers laughed. They all started toward the cabinetry shop, with the wedding party walking on ahead. “Oh, it’s none of my doin’, really,” Ben replied with a shrug. He glanced back toward the portable pen, where four children were gathered around getting their first lesson from his aunts. “You can take the teachers out of the schoolroom,” he quipped, “but you’ll never take the
school
out of those two old teachers.”
Chapter 19
So Luke Hooley’s already pairin’ up with Annie Mae, is he?
Rhoda pressed her lips together as she looked around the huge room during the noon feast. From her vantage point at the
eck
, the corner table where the wedding party sat, she picked out Ben’s brothers as they ate. Ira, the younger one, had darker hair, distinctive eyebrows, and a daredevil grin, while Luke, with his sandy hair and slender face, resembled Ben.
The tables were arranged in a large U-shape along the length of the Brennemans’ shop, and with the young men facing the young women, it was easy to observe who was eyeing whom. Her gaze lingered on Ben’s brothers, mostly because they were the only fellows she didn’t really know in this large gathering. The older folks had eaten in the first shift and then the tables had been reset, so now the couple’s younger married friends and the single ones filled the seats. The chatter was loud and happy, filling the high-ceilinged room.
Every last one of the girls gawked at Ira and Luke as they ate their stuffed chicken, mashed potatoes, creamed celery, applesauce, and pie—though Rhoda hadn’t tasted much of the special meal. During what should have been a joyous morning, she had felt . . . left out, even though she’d been at Rachel’s side the whole time. Through the long preaching service—including Uncle Mose’s endless first sermon on the duties of husbands and wives—she could feel a separating, like the seam of a well-worn, favorite dress giving way after many years of constant wear. Even now, Rachel faced away from Rhoda, visiting with Micah, Katie Zook, and their cousin Bram Kanagy—the side-sitters to Micah’s right; while at Rhoda’s left, Micah’s brother Aaron was chatting with her sister Rebecca, who had volunteered to refill water glasses and platters during the meal. There was absolutely nothing wrong with this scene, except for the way she felt about it.
Rhoda sensed life was passing her by.
Never mind what Ben Hooley had told her about the right fellow coming along someday. If everyone else—including her mother—had found the person who made them indescribably happy, why hadn’t she? And if Luke Hooley had so quickly overlooked her in favor of flirting with Annie Mae Knepp, didn’t that confirm her own misgivings?
Annie Mae attracted boys even though her father was the authoritarian bishop of Willow Ridge . . . even though she was tall and skinny and she squinted a lot because she needed glasses. Rumor had it that Annie Mae was making the most of her
rumspringa
, too, running around with Mennonite Yonnie Stoltzfuz and English boys, after her younger siblings were in bed—making a reputation for herself that most
mamms
warned their daughters against.
Even Rebecca, who would never join the Old Amish Church, had local fellows smiling at her as she chatted with kin who hadn’t seen her since before she got carried away in the flood. Rebecca was a good talker, confident and educated yet respectful of their faith. In her way, she was as much a queen for this day as Rachel, since so many in Mamma and Dat’s families wanted to hear about her return to Willow Ridge after being presumed dead and raised English.
Sighing, Rhoda excused herself. Better to pretend she was going to the bathroom than sit at the wedding party’s table with such a pouty frown on her face.
Once outside, Rhoda watched the beehive of activity that involved most of the adults, who were making the wedding a seamless and carefree day for Rachel, Micah, and their friends. Henry Zook, normally behind the butchering counter in the market, and Uncle Daniel, usually minding his sheep or farming, wheeled cartloads of dirty dishes toward the back door of the Sweet Seasons to be washed. Other men stood about talking, enjoying what would be one of the last fine days of fall, while Ben Hooley and Reuben Reihl carried the two aunts’ suitcases into the house.
Out of habit, Rhoda wandered to the café and stepped inside. The kitchen was steamy from running the dishwasher. The three Schrocks, Naomi, Lydia Zook, and Aunt Leah were stacking plates and silverware for the supper they would serve later: a lighter meal, yet nearly a hundred family members and young people would remain for the entire day’s festivities. Micah’s
dat
sat in his wheelchair drying a batch of silverware fresh from the dishwasher, tossing the hot pieces from his towel into the proper bins. Weddings were the only occasions when Amish men helped in the kitchen, doing the heavier work for the women who cooked and cleaned up.
“Rhoda, dearie, how are ya? Everythin’ goin’ all right at the party?” Naomi wiped her brow, smiling even though she’d been here since four this morning.
“
Jah
,
jah
,” Rhoda hastened to assure her. “Just walkin’ around after that feast ya fixed us. The chicken was extraspecial
gut
.”
“Ah. Makin’ room for cake later. And ice cream! Tom must’ve drained his cows dry and cranked his arm off, judgin’ from all the tubs he’s put in the freezer.” Naomi snatched the towel Rhoda had picked up, laughing. “This isn’t your job today, missy! And how’s the bride doin’? And my Micah?”
“They’re havin’ a fine time. With all of us talkin’, ya can hardly hear yourself think—but the shop was a fine place for havin’ the dinner,” she replied. “Awful nice of ya, managin’ all the details so Mamma can visit with her family.”
“Happy to do it, just like I’m happy my son’s married such a fine girl. It’ll keep the grandchildren close at hand, too.”
Naomi, bless her, had the best of intentions saying that, yet it was one more phase Rachel would be entering, leaving Rhoda behind. Rhoda waved to everyone and then up the lane she started, thinking to talk with her three uncles. Mose Miller, Paul Raber, and Wilmer Byler stood at the corral assessing the many fine horses their guests had driven here. Several of the horses had been retired from racetracks when Amish families bought them and trained them to haul buggies.
The
clip-clop! clip-clop!
behind her made her turn. Here came Hiram Knepp, driving one of his majestic Belgians hitched to a painted blue wagon that shone in the sun. The stallion’s harness ornaments glistened as he shook his massive head and came to a halt at the bishop’s command. Lo and behold, when Hiram lowered a ramp from the back of the wagon, Josh and Joey dashed down it with a wild whoop, holding large milk bottles with nipples. Nazareth and Jerusalem Hooley, who had Sara and Timmy in tow, followed with two more bottles of milk. The two women were laughing as Hiram handed them down the ramp, as though they’d enjoyed quite a ride from the bishop’s stables.
Now, there’s a sight! Hiram’s steppin’out with his fancy wagon and tack like he’s been showin’ off that stallion in a parade.
Her three uncles didn’t intend to miss this chance to admire such horseflesh, so they left their spot at the corral fence.
“This one of your studs, Hiram?” Uncle Paul called out.
“Mighty fine-lookin’ fella, too,” Uncle Mose joined in. “Must stand at least eighteen or nineteen hands.”
Hiram patted the huge horse’s muscled shoulder. “You’re looking at Goliath. His buddy, Saul, is back in the stable yet. Wedding or not, they need some exercise each day.”
The bishop turned then to Ben Hooley’s aunts. “You ladies know the best method for getting these goats into the trailer, so tell me what to do when—”
“Once the children have fed them, if all of you fellas—that means you, too, Joey and Josh—form a circle around them, we can walk them right on over,” Jerusalem instructed them. “As long as you don’t make any sudden moves or loud noises, they’ll be real happy to move along with ya.”
Rhoda leaned against the nearest tree to take this in . . . a scene where the Knepp twins held milk bottles for the scrambling, hungry goats while Nazareth helped Sara and little Timmy feed the other two. Had she ever observed such orderly behavior in this family, even while their
mamm
, Linda, was alive? And had she ever heard the bishop ask women about the best way of doing something? And why, when he had a stable full of draft horses, had Hiram hitched up Goliath in his best tack?
“Well now. This looks interestin’.” Annie Mae Knepp sidled up beside Rhoda, observing her younger brothers and sisters—and her
dat
. “Have ya talked much with those Hooley sisters, Rhoda? Real nice, they are . . . volunteerin’ to help with those goats, and the cookin’, and even sayin’ they’d help Joey and Josh learn to write their alphabet so they’ll be better scholars when they start school next year.”
“
Jah
, they’re jumpin’ right in,” Rhoda agreed. “The way Ben tells it, they came along to keep house for Ira and Luke while the mill gets built, and then they’ll head back to Lancaster.”
Annie Mae squinted, watching the way Nazareth gently held Timmy over the pen so he could feed a tan-and-white kid. “Oh, I’m hopin’ they’ll stay a
gut
long while,” she murmured. Then the bishop’s daughter looked at Rhoda with a wistful smile. “Can ya imagine how wild it’s been with Linda gone and Dat out bein’ a bishop and tendin’ to horse sales and what-all? Nellie and I sometimes talk of walkin’ away from it, but she needs to finish school.”
Rhoda’s eyes widened, but she let the bishop’s daughter talk. Annie Mae wasn’t going all moony over Luke Hooley, either. She sounded older than Mamma and a lot less cheerful—and who wouldn’t, being in charge of the Knepp household?
“The twins never listen to us—do exactly the opposite of what we say—and the two littlest ones are always underfoot, grabbin’ our legs and cryin’ while we’re tryin’ to cook and clean up.” Annie Mae watched closely as the men, including her brothers and her
dat
, formed a tight line while Uncle Daniel folded back a side of the portable pen.
Then Jerusalem clapped her hands. “Come along, Billy! You too, Pearl and Matilda! Bessie, step lively, now!”
The little goats trotted eagerly into the movable, human circle as it closed around them. They obviously knew their names, just as they knew what Jerusalem expected of them.
Annie Mae chuckled. “And who’d’ve thought the high-and-mighty Hiram Knepp would be linkin’ arms with your uncles, mindin’ a woman just like those goats are? Looks like he’s playin’ ring-around-the-rosy.”
Rhoda laughed. It was something to watch, as her uncles and the bishop started toward the back of the wagon, taking baby steps so Joey and Josh could keep up at the back of the circle. “They make a
gut
team, those fellas, when they’re all not tryin’ to go their own way—like they do at home.”
Annie Mae turned to look at her. “And that’s the way of it, ain’t so? While I’m real happy for Rachel, I’m not so sure I ever want to get hitched,” she mused aloud. “I’ve had enough of a man bossin’ me and bein’ my constant preacher and—well, maybe I’d see it different if Dat weren’t the bishop . . . and if Mamm had been happier.”
Rhoda wondered about that. No matter what his position, Hiram Knepp would insist that everyone around him—especially his wife and children—rise to his expectations. It came as no surprise that Annie Mae, known for running around with lots of boys, might not want to marry, but she’d never been one to express her feelings—at least not to Rhoda.
“Probably time to head back inside,” Annie Mae remarked, gazing toward the Brennemans’ workshop. “That cake your
mamm
made is no doubt the best wedding cake ever, and they say Preacher Tom’s made his ice cream—”
“
Jah
, tubs and tubs of it.”
“—so let’s go enjoy the party!” Annie Mae brightened as they walked. “It’s probably gonna be mighty different for ya, now that Rachel will be ridin’ off with Micah the next several weekends, to collect their gifts.”
“I’ve been thinkin’ about that a lot.”
“So what’re ya gonna do when you’re not workin’ at the café? I mean, besides the laundry and housekeepin’.”
Rhoda was amazed at how friendly Annie Mae seemed today . . . how she seemed to crave girl talk even though Luke Hooley had asked to sit with her at supper. “I haven’t thought much about it. What with winter comin’ on, maybe I should start somethin’.”
“Do ya crochet?”
“
Jah
, but it’s been ever so long.”
“For me, too.” Annie Mae glanced back and let out an abrupt chuckle. “Would ya look at that! Nazareth’s walkin’ the kids toward the café door, like maybe they’re gonna help the cooks, and her sister’s on the wagon seat beside Dat.”
Rhoda’s eyebrows rose and she turned quickly. Something about the . . . coziness of that couple on the bright blue wagon made her grin. “Now what do ya think of that? Maybe he’ll leave Mamma alone now. I mean—well, I didn’t intend for that to sound so—”
“Oh, I’ve never felt sorrier for anybody, the way Dat’s made so many scenes about marryin’ your
mamm
, and her sayin’ right out she’s not interested.” Annie Mae’s expression was thoughtful as they stopped just before going into the party. “Maybe if the Hooley sisters help out around our place—and keep Dat, um—
occupied
—I’ll have some time to crochet, like I was sayin’. Nellie makes all manner of crocheted animals, and I keep tellin’ her she should ask Mary Schrock to sell them in her shop.”
Rhoda blinked. The crowd inside was starting to sing—that was Seth Brenneman’s clear, mellow voice leading off. She suddenly realized that after this unexpected chat with a girl she would never have pegged as an avid crocheter, she felt a lot better than when she’d left the shop a while ago. “I like this idea, Annie Mae. Afghans are my favorite project, so maybe I’ll make one for Rachel. Let me know when ya want to start.”

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