Harvest of Blessings (13 page)

“You got
Wagler
to put stuff in your store?” Luke said. “That took some doing. Matthias has pretty much been a hermit since his wife died.”

Nora’s lips lifted. Was that a little competitive jealousy she heard behind Luke’s remark? “Truth be told,” she murmured, “Matthias brought me home from a few singings when we were kids. Had that, um, other man not gotten me pregnant and banished from Willow Ridge, who knows? Matthias and I might’ve courted and married.”

“
Jah
, Nazareth and Tom told me about that unfortunate situation,” Jerusalem said with a cluck. She gently grasped Nora’s wrist. “I’m real sorry your
dat
sent ya off, and real glad, for Wilma’s sake, that ya found your way back to Willow Ridge.”

Nora squeezed the older aunt’s sturdy hand, considering Jerusalem’s gesture the ultimate badge of acceptance. The expression on Luke’s face was priceless, too.

“You and I need to talk, Nora,” he murmured. “Real soon.”

Ira laughed from across the room as he leaned a ladder against the wall. “Let’s don’t forget we’ve got a store to run, brother,” he called out. He ascended the wooden steps to hold the new banner against the wall. “How high? Is this about right?”

“Down about a foot, and a few inches to your left,” Nora replied.

Ben stepped over to help Ira position a couple of wooden pegs he’d fetched, and then the pounding of a mallet rang in the high, beamed ceiling. A few minutes later Nora’s work was brightening the wall—the entire shop—and she thrummed with pleasure. The calico fabrics she’d chosen in blues, greens, and browns looked bold and masculine, depicting the mill as a work site rather than a romanticized scene, and the beaded flowers picked up on the colors of the grains displayed on the shelves beneath it. The banner also hung low enough that her potential customers could get a close look at it.

“Isn’t that
something
?” Nazareth exclaimed, clasping her hands to gaze at Nora’s hanging.

“I’m thinkin’ such a piece might dress up the butcher shop,” Jerusalem murmured. Then she smiled at Nora. “My Vernon raises Black Angus cattle, you see, and his nephew Abner runs the local butcher shop and meat locker. The meat case is a sight to behold with the cuts of beef and local pork they sell, but the shop itself—”

“Looks like a couple of hayseed farm fellas did the decoratin’,” Nazareth added with a girlish giggle.

Ben laughed along with the rest of them. “Wouldn’t it make for a great banner—Vernon’s stone silo, alongside some of his sleek black cows peerin’ over the white plank fence by the barn?” he remarked. He smiled at Nora. “How about if ya count a banner like that against the metal sign I’ll do for ya? I can sketch ya a picture of Vernon’s place—”

“Or I could take you there. How about Sunday afternoon?” Luke asked in a purposeful voice. “Who knows what
inspiration
a ride in the country might provide?”

Nora laughed. She could envision the banner perfectly from Ben’s description, but nothing was better than an on-site visit to provide the details she liked to include on her pieces. She could read Luke’s face clearly, too. He was a man determined to hear the details of her past while he scored his own points.

“It’s a church Sunday,” Ben remarked offhandedly.

“
Jah
, and I’ll be going to the Morning Star Mennonite Fellowship service with the Schrocks,” Nora said. She focused on the two aunts and Ben, figuring it was best to spell out her intentions. “After talking with Bishop Tom and praying on it, knowing in my heart that I don’t want to quit making my hangings, I’ve decided the Old Order’s not right for me.”

“And what’s Preacher Gabe sayin’ about
that
?” Jerusalem asked. She didn’t look critical; just sincerely interested.

“He still doesn’t allow me in the house,” Nora replied ruefully. “But Mamma told him it was
his
fault that the Amish ways wouldn’t become my ways. He didn’t want to hear that, of course.”

“But you’ve been open and up-front about it,” Nazareth pointed out. “While I’m sure your
mamm
wishes she could spend her Sundays in church and then visitin’ with ya at the common meal, I could see during our meeting that she’s ever so grateful to God that she can visit with ya at all.”

Nodding, Nora turned to look up at Luke again. “You can come to the Mennonite service with me, if you care to. I’m leaving around eight.”

Luke leaned down until his nose nearly touched hers. “You’d fall over if I said I’d go. Wouldn’t you?” he challenged in a suggestive whisper.

Nora refused to drop her gaze. “Try me—but only if you’re sincere about following Jesus,” she added. “I don’t see church as a place for flirting and dating.”

Jerusalem began to laugh and her sister joined in. “We’d best get our cheese and butter into the refrigerator case,” she teased. “What with all the
heat
in here, we’ll soon have a melted mess on our hands.”

“Our nephew doesn’t stand a chance,” Nazareth remarked as the two of them carried the cooler over to the glass refrigerator cases. “It’s Nora who’s holdin’ the hoops and Luke who’s jumpin’ through them, far as I can see.”

When Nora said her good-byes and left the mill store, a big grin overtook her face. The banner she’d sewn for the Hooley brothers had reaped even more rewards than she’d hoped for. Besides bringing in more orders for hangings and getting Ben to make a sign for her store, she’d won over Luke’s aunts, and she had a date with a man who was keenly interested in her.

Not a bad day’s work, considering it’s not yet seven in the morning
, Nora mused as she strolled home along the riverbank. As her skirt swished through the tall grass, she smiled at the colorful wildflowers . . . saw patterns swirling in the river’s currents and got an idea for a new dress. She could have it pieced and sewn by Sunday if she started on it this morning—just as she could cobble together a satisfying life here in Willow Ridge, if she focused on her strengths and the talents God had provided her.

For who could walk in this scenic, peaceful countryside without feeling His presence? Nora inhaled and slowly let out her breath, finding utter serenity in the river and the sight of her big red barn silhouetted against the sunlit horizon. True enough, she had a long way to go to reconcile with her father and to have a solid relationship with Millie. But she’d made great progress in other areas this week—and this morning.

And those were truly blessings to be grateful for.

“I don’t see Luke here today,” Millie remarked as she scanned the folks coming out of Micah and Rachel Brenneman’s house after the church service. It was a bit cooler on this August Sunday, so the women had suggested putting blankets and lawn chairs between the apple trees in the orchard and serving the common meal as a picnic buffet.

Ira chuckled as he wrapped his hand around hers. “Can ya believe it? Luke went to the Mennonite church with Nora this morning. Then they’re drivin’ to Cedar Creek so she can get an idea for a banner she’s makin’ for the butcher shop Vernon’s nephew runs.”

Millie let out a startled laugh. “Your brother went to
church
with her? I thought maybe he’d slept in after your big opening for the mill store,” she teased. Then she thought for a moment. “My word, it’s what—a couple of hours to Cedar Creek from here? That’s a long way to go, I’d think.”

“Not if you’re Luke and you’re tryin’ to get Nora all to yourself for the day.” Ira, too, looked at the crowd. The men were milling around in the shade of the main yard, waiting for the women to set out the food on some long tables that Preacher Ben and the Brenneman brothers had set up. He smiled at Millie. “Did ya know Nora and Matthias Wagler used to be sweet on each other? I think that was another reason Luke was hot to trot—especially when he heard Matthias was going to consign some items in Nora’s new store.”

“No! But then, I wasn’t even born when that was goin’ on,” Millie murmured. Then she considered another interesting detail. “Must be bothersome to Luke that the Waglers live on the other side of Nora’s place. Next thing ya know, your brother’ll be keepin’ a set of binoculars by his window upstairs.”

When Millie considered how the August afternoon would drag by—especially because Annie Mae and Adam had gone to visit out-of-town relatives to collect some wedding presents—she suddenly longed to be anywhere except in the Brennemans’ yard, swatting the flies and honeybees that would buzz around their food. “What if I fetched a cooler and we took our lunch on the road?” she hinted. “I’ve felt so cooped up all week—”

“You’re wantin’ to chase them down, aren’t ya? To spy on them!”

Millie laughed. “Well, Sunday
is
the day for visiting with family,” she pointed out. “I suspect Dawdi kept me so busy reorganizin’ the canning shelves in the cellar this week because he knows I’m itchin’ to go to Nora’s house—just to get a look inside it, ya know? And to get better acquainted with her. Is that so wrong?”

“Not that I can see,” Ira replied. “She’s your mother, after all.”

“She asked if I wanted to work in her store,” Millie went on in a hopeful tone. “Mammi thinks it would be
gut
for me to spend a few days every week helpin’ Nora get that big barn cleaned up—and then helpin’ her wait on customers.”

She could tell by the shifting smile on Ira’s face that he might go along with her idea if she gave him another nudge or two. He was in fine spirits today, telling everyone how busy the mill store had been, and how they’d run out of Bishop Tom’s butter and his aunts’ goat cheese as well as several of their bagged baking mixes. Millie had also heard people talking about the banner her mother had made for the mill store, and she longed to hear more about these hangings—how Nora decided what to put on them, and how she chose her colors and fabrics. Now that Millie knew the story of her mother’s unfortunate past, she felt a lot more forgiving about the way Nora had deposited her on Atlee and Lizzie’s porch.

“I’ll run across the road and fetch us a cooler and some ice, while you decide what-all we should take along to eat,” Millie said. “We can be on the road in ten minutes!”

“And what’ll you say to Luke and Nora if we
just happen
to meet up with them?” Ira quizzed her. “They’ll figure out that you’re bein’ nosy—just like Luke’ll know it was
me
who told ya where they were goin’. He won’t be keen on that.”

“Puh! Who is he to tell us where not to go for a drive?” she asked. “And why does he think he’s got a corner on my
mamm
’s time and attention? It’s not like I’ve gotten to see her all that much.”

Ira kept hold of her hand, studying her intently. “You’ve really changed your tune about Nora. Not that long ago ya wanted nothin’ to do with her.”

Millie shrugged, unsure of what to say. How could she explain the impact of their meeting at Bishop Tom’s to someone who hadn’t been there? “Now that Nora’s explained why Dawdi booted her out, I see her side of the story,” she murmured. “And I feel bad about the way things’ve gone for her . . . how the folks she’s loved and counted on have left her to fend for herself, time and again.”

After a moment, Ira kissed her knuckles. “All right then, get us a cooler—”

“Oh, Ira,
denki
!” Millie exclaimed. “If we happen to see your brother and Nora, I won’t call out to them—unless
you
want to stop them, or
they
want to visit,” she assured him. “Mostly, I just want to get away for a while.”

Millie dashed down the long lane, which ran past Ben’s smithy and the Sweet Seasons Café, and then sprinted across the county highway. A few minutes later she hurried back to the Brennemans’ with the cooler, which held some ice and two cans of the cola she kept on hand as a special treat. She let Ira choose their food while she told her grandmother they were going for a ride. Soon Millie was seated beside Ira in his open rig, all smiles as the
clip-clop, clip-clop
of his mare’s shoes rang out on the hot blacktop road.

“This is fun,” she said. Millie gazed eagerly down the road, glad for the breeze that teased at her
kapp
as the horse trotted faster. What time had the Mennonite service let out? It was probably silly to think they’d come across Luke and Nora, who could’ve taken two or three different routes to Cedar Creek—or might even have changed their destination. “I really appreciate your goin’ along with my wild-hare idea, Ira. You’ve been a real
gut
friend while all these important, scary things have been happenin’ to me.”

Ira took the lines in one hand and slung his arm loosely around her shoulders. “Seems to me ya took some pretty hard knocks, findin’ out ya had a different mother than ya grew up with,” he remarked quietly. “If I’d learned that my
mamm
or
dat
had been holdin’ out on the truth—or that a preacher and the bishop had hush-hushed the circumstances—I’m not sure I would’ve handled it too well.”

Millie nodded. “Do ya
like
Nora? I mean, I know ya think she’s really pretty—”

“And I acted like a jerk that first time I saw her in the driveway, too.” He kissed Millie’s forehead. “I’ve backed off now. But
jah
, I think Nora’s a nice gal and she’s got a steady head for business—and she’s all for helpin’ out the other shops around Willow Ridge. That makes her a
gut
neighbor in my book.”

Millie nodded, savoring Ira’s nearness despite the heat of the afternoon. “Do ya think your brother’s serious about her? I mean, he chased after Annie Mae for months, yet he never came close to settlin’ down—even before she left her father’s new colony and snatched her little brothers and sister back to Willow Ridge.”

“I don’t know, and I’m not gonna ask him,” Ira teased. “But I think it’s interesting that he went to the Mennonite service with her this morning, after she challenged him to go. I don’t think he would’ve done that for Annie Mae.”

They rode in silence for a while, out in the countryside where the houses got farther apart and fields of tall corn whispered in the breeze. It seemed her mother was becoming a vital member of the Willow Ridge community, despite Dawdi’s objections to her presence. That took some strength—some faith—that other folks around town wouldn’t turn against Nora to show their support of Preacher Gabe’s longtime convictions. When Ira’s rumbling stomach brought Millie out of her woolgathering, she reached down to the floor for their lunch.

“What did ya pick out for us?” she asked as she peered into the cooler. It felt good when the coldness of the ice drifted around her face. “Looks like some sliced ham, and a few of the deviled eggs Mammi and I made—”

“Hope they didn’t slide out of the waxed paper,” Ira remarked with a chuckle. “I was hurryin’ to stick stuff in the cooler before too many folks asked where we were goin’.”

“Wish I’d thought to bring us a couple of plates,” Millie murmured. “Guess I’ll just hand you this and that. Feed ya while ya drive.”

“We could pull over,” Ira suggested playfully. He pointed to a grove of trees off to the side of the road. “We haven’t shared a picnic for a long while—”

“But we haven’t seen Luke and Nora!” she protested. “I want to wave at them, just to see the looks on their faces.”

Ira shook his head good-naturedly as he took a bite of the deviled egg she held in front of him. “Whatever you say, Millie,” he teased. “Your wish is my command, it seems.”

Giggling, she grabbed a can of the cola from the bed of ice cubes. “That’s what I like to hear—a fella
submittin’
for a change, instead of that just bein’ something only the women do.”

Millie yanked at the can’s pull tab and then cried out as it hissed and fizzed, shooting a shower of foamy soda out the front of the buggy. The startled horse neighed, bolting wildly down the road even as Ira tugged on the lines. The rig began zigzagging across the center line, just as they spotted a car coming around the curve up ahead.

“Whoa there, Dinah!” Ira called out as he grabbed the leather lines in both hands. “Gee, girl! Steady now—steady—”

Whack!
With a loud, sickening crack, one wheel of the buggy ran over a rock as they went off the side of the road. Millie dropped the soda can to grab Ira and the back of the seat, letting the cooler slide off her lap as they lurched to a halt behind the snorting, stomping mare. The car whizzed past them.

Millie’s heart was pounding so hard and fast, she could barely breathe. “Oh, Ira, I’m sorry!” she wailed. “The soda can must’ve gotten all shook up when—”

“Just be thankful we’re still in the buggy,” he rasped. “I wasn’t sure I was gonna get Dinah off the road in time. We’d better climb out, in case that wheel decides to give. Sit tight—I’ll help ya down.”

The buggy was tilted precariously toward the ditch, so Ira stepped carefully over Millie’s lap and jumped to the shoulder of the road. He reached up for her, his face taut. Once her feet found the pavement, Millie dared to think about what might have happened. She envisioned Ira and herself flung out into the bushes, maybe thrown against the thick trunks of the trees, perhaps with the buggy overturned on top of them—with Dinah crying out in agony. It happened sometimes.

She grabbed Ira around the waist and buried her face against his chest. “This was all my fault. And now we’re out in the middle of nowhere—”

“Shhh,” he murmured as he held her close. “It was a close call,
jah
, but the thanks go to God for gettin’ us out of it unharmed. Not the first time I’ve had a horse spook on me, and it won’t be the last.”

Millie inhaled deeply to get control of her tears and her racing pulse. It wasn’t Ira’s way to talk about God’s assistance, yet it soothed her to hear such reassurances and to know he wasn’t angry about the shaken-up soda. After he released her, Ira settled Dinah, stroking the mare’s muscled neck and talking softly to her. When he went around behind the rig, his groan told the tale.

“We’re goin’ nowhere on this busted wheel,” he announced. “It took a nasty hit when we went over that rock.”

Millie drooped. The breeze had stopped, and even though the roadside was shady, the afternoon heat and humidity were becoming very uncomfortable. “Um, got your cell phone?”

“Nope,” Ira replied with a rueful chuckle. “I know better than to let Aunt Naz or Ben see it on me during church. It’s at home on the charger.”

Millie sighed. Even though it was getting more common for kids in their
rumspringa
to carry cell phones, Atlee and Dawdi had strictly forbidden her to have one. Ira and Luke got by with having cell phones because they used them for their business calls. If they joined the church, Bishop Tom would expect them to forego the portable phones in favor of a landline in a phone shanty by the road.

“So I guess we’ll wait for somebody to stop,” she murmured. Millie glanced into the tilting rig, where the overturned cooler lay in a puddle of melting ice. Slices of ham, smashed deviled eggs, and several broken cookies were strewn on the floor around it. “I sure made a mess of your rig. Not to mention our lunch.”

Ira glanced at their ruined picnic, shrugging. “We can clean that up—but we’d better start walking. Who knows how long we’d have to wait? And what would we do about Dinah, if a car stopped for us?”

He squinted up through the sun-dappled canopy of the trees. “It’s nearly two o’clock. The buggy will roll along all right without our weight in it. Maybe by the time we reach that gas station we passed a while back, somebody’ll be home from church to answer their phone and help us.”

Or not
, she thought glumly. When Ira got the horse turned around, Millie fell into step beside him, hoping a car wouldn’t come around the curves too fast while they walked along the shoulder of the road.