Living in Harmony (26 page)

Silence never sounded so sweet to Thomas's ears.

Sally remained bent over her pie dough, no longer rolling it out but merely staring at the mound.

“Sit down a minute with me. Pour yourself some coffee.”

She complied but didn't look at him until seated with her beverage. “What's your next question?” she added. “I'll do my best to figure out a response. I must admit I have grown too dependent on Amy these past weeks. That won't do. Soon she and John will wed and move into their own place.” One corner of her mouth lifted.

Thomas wrapped his fingers around the mug, ignoring the handle. “Are you happy here in Harmony with me?”

Her half smile vanished, replaced by fear and uncertainty. “What kind of question is that?”

“It's simple enough, Sally. Are…you…happy?”

“Of course I'm happy. I love you, Thomas, even if I don't ever say it. Plain folk don't go around saying ‘I love you' as often as ‘Hello' or ‘Goodbye' or ‘Have a nice day' like
Englischers
.” She laughed uneasily.

“
Jah
, I know you love me, but I was thinking maybe you don't want us to remain in Harmony. You were overheard going on and on about your former life in Paradise to Nora and Amy.”

“Was that you listening?”

“No, it was John.”

Sally relaxed visibly as she swallowed some coffee. “I didn't mean anything about my reminiscences. Nora seemed in need of a pep-up story, so I provided one. But I don't have a hankering to live anywhere else than right here.” She rose and returned to rolling piecrusts, assuming her response would satisfy him.

It didn't. “If you are happy here and wish to stay, then you need to act like it. Look at this kitchen.” He gestured around the chaos with a wave of his hand. “Once again you've assumed all the tasks for the lunch after Sunday school instead of lining up helpers. I notice you're even making pies.”

Sally blushed a shade of scarlet. “Dora is sick with a bug. I told her I would bake.”

Thomas set down his mug. “That's all the more reason to implement Amy's suggestion. Why haven't you done that yet? I thought the women were going to sign a list of who would cook what.”

She dug her hands into her apron pockets. “I've been afraid. What if they don't like my categories?”

“Then they can make up new ones. I see you take the suggestions of Amy and Nora readily enough, either with a
jah
or
nein
, without getting nervous about the conversation. And those Lancaster women seem to have a better way of doing everything,” he added wryly.

She stopped rolling. “That's because I really like Amy and Nora, and I can tell they like me too. So it's different.” She placed a palm on the table for support.

“You've let them get close and allowed them to like you. Other folks you practically hold off with a clothes pole.”

Sally opened her mouth to object but changed her mind. She chewed on a fingernail instead. “Let me think about this a moment.”

“You should think about it a long while, and if you come up with the right solution, this might be the last Saturday you find yourself in such a state.” He gestured around the room again. “Reach out and make friends, Sally. Once this district gets to know you, they can't help but like you.”

Sally abandoned her baking and came to him. She squeezed onto his lap, wrapped her arms around his neck, and hugged him the way Aden loved to do. “
Danki
, Thomas.”

He patted her back and whispered in her ear. “If you give your heart freely, it won't matter who's the best butcher, baker, or candlestick maker. And even an ill-placed fly cannot ruin an otherwise perfect day.”

Nora peered out the living room window into a dismal downpour. It had been raining all day, and cold gusts blew in anytime a person opened a door. Jeremiah slept soundly in his cradle after his last feeding, while Aden played on the rug with wooden blocks. On a happier note, her headache had abated and the Detweiler storm cloud in the kitchen appeared to have blown over. Sally hummed as she fixed ham-and-cheese sandwiches to accompany the split pea soup for tomorrow's lunch. Nora had volunteered her help after bathing the boys, but Sally insisted the ironing needed more immediate attention. So she'd been ironing near the window for almost two hours, after she'd rewashed the load of laundry and rehung it on the covered porch lines.

At least it was toasty warm in here. Thomas kept both the kitchen and living room fires burning hot so warm air would reach their bedrooms for comfortable sleeping. He doted on Sally, that was for sure. If her
daed
had entered a house that looked the way Sally's had today, he would have thundered, “Does something ail you,
fraa
? If not, I suggest you turn this pigpen back into a respectable room.” And her
mamm
would have replied, “Now that I've chased my muck-makers outdoors, Samuel, I'll have this room normal before you can wash the dust off.” And
mamm
's disasters couldn't hold a candle to Sally's.

Thomas had remained calm, never raising his voice or ruffling a single feather. Nora hoped John would treat Amy just as indulgently, or at least as respectfully as her
daed
had treated
mamm
. The image of her parents sitting together during evening prayers flickered across her mind, bringing a wave of painful emotion.
Do not cry. Your headache will come back.

Nora folded the final shirt, placed it on John's pile, and massaged the muscles of her lower back. John had barely said five words to her since Amy left to track down Aunt Prudence. Actually, she agreed with him that the idea was harebrained, but if Amy felt so strongly, no one should interfere. Far be it from her to talk
a sister out of a far-fetched notion, because lately her own actions hadn't been too rational.

Sally bustled into the room, interrupting Nora's daydreaming. She gawked at the clothes neatly stacked into piles. “You're done already? My, you've been busy.” She grinned widely, revealing a gold cap on a back tooth.

“Idle hands make easy work for the devil,” said Nora.

Sally flinched. “Our bishop says we should never invoke the evil one's name. It's not a good idea.”

“I'll do my best to remember that.”
Along with everything else on the long list of Harmony rules,
she added mentally. “What can I help you with?”

“Nothing. We are in fine shape for supper and for the after–Sunday school meal. I'll ride herd on these two if you'd like to take a nap.”

Nora shrugged as she spotted a tall basket of umbrellas and carved walking sticks. “
Nein
,
danki.
I think I'll bundle up and stretch my legs. Fresh air will do me good.”

“There's a plastic rain poncho hanging on the back porch. Unfortunately, it's bright blue. The outlet had sold out of black.”

The sudden pop-pop-pop of gunfire drew Nora to the window. “That sounds close by. Who's shooting behind the house?”

Sally cocked her head to listen. “Oh, that's just Elam. Don't worry about him. He'll be able to tell the difference between you and a squirrel. He's hunting for his supper.”

Nora pictured the cute, furry creatures with bushy tails and shuddered. “Why on earth would he choose to eat a rodent instead of sitting down to table with us?”

Sally reached in and lifted Jeremiah from his bed. “Who knows? I stopped trying to figure out that man long ago. Elam digs up his own potatoes, onions, carrots, and turnips from the garden and cooks a huge pot of squirrel stew on the old stove in the basement. He'll eat from that for days and then go hunting for a rabbit or a possum.”

Nora wrinkled her nose, just as a bunny would. She grabbed an umbrella from the basket and followed Sally down the hall and into the kitchen. “I'll be careful to give him a wide berth.”

“You do that,” Sally said as she headed into the bathroom with her son.

But once Nora was outside, the sight of Elam standing tall and straight in the harvested field drew her like a magnet. His long hair danced across his shoulders in the wind, while his skin looked ruddy and tanned from many hatless hours on the logging crew. Meandering in his direction, she kept the umbrella well positioned.

Elam wore an
Englischer
's gray flannel shirt tucked into black plain trousers with suspenders, work boots, and no coat. Rain dripped from his black felt hat, yet he didn't seem to notice. A double-barreled shotgun lay across his forearm.

“Aren't you freezing?” she called, not wishing to startle him.

He turned with a smile, but he didn't seem surprised to see her. “You're a brave woman to approach a man with a loaded gun. And no, I'm not the least bit cold. You'd better waltz back to Pennsylvania, Miss King, if you're cold in this kind of weather. You're in for a rude awakening in another month or two.”

She advanced until she was just a few feet away. “I'm quite comfortable with my wool cloak, a rain slicker, and this.” She shook the umbrella, sending water droplets in all directions. “And I'm confident your eyes can tell me apart from a squirrel.”

Elam faced her squarely then. His slow gaze started at her toes and traveled up to meet her eyes. “I would have my hands full getting you into my cook pot.” He winked one dark eye.

An odd sensation spiked up her spine, but she ignored it. “Why on earth would you eat rodent stew when you can sit down to Sally's chicken-and-dumplings? Plus, we're having creamed succotash and sweet pickles, and cherry cobbler for dessert.” Nora shifted her weight to the opposite hip.

Delight replaced his former neutral expression. “My, that
sounds downright delicious!” Elam yanked off his hat and slapped it against his leg. More water flew everywhere. His hair hung in thick waves around his head, growing damper by the moment.

It took all her effort not to stare at his handsome, rugged features. “And eating with your family will allow some hapless squirrel to return to
his
family tonight.” Nora couldn't hold back a smile.

“I haven't seen a critter in more than an hour, so don't worry about possible orphan squirrels.” He laughed with a careless, near-giddy sound. “And if the right person were to ask me, I'd come willingly to the Detweiler table.”

It took slow-as-molasses Nora nearly half a minute to comprehend his meaning. “Being that I'm a guest, it hardly feels right, but…would you please come to supper tonight, Elam? I believe there's room for you, and we'll certainly have enough food.” She smiled sweetly even as her knees knocked beneath her skirt.

He slicked a hand through his wet hair and repositioned his hat. “I'll get myself presentable right now so I don't get under ornery Sally's skin by being late.” He cracked open the barrel and removed both shotgun shells. He hollered toward the silent, distant hills, “You, squirrels, can relax now and come out to play.” Then he walked toward the house, leaving Nora staring at his back for a long while.

That night Elam appeared at the table in proper Amish attire, except for his lack of a haircut. He bowed his head in silent prayer when everyone else did. If Thomas, John, or Sally were surprised by his appearance, they hid it well. Sally's only question was, “All the furry animals evade your eagle eye today,
bruder
?”

“
Jah
, they bested me, I must say.” Elam reached for the bowl of dumplings.

“What is the north country like, Elam?” asked Nora, followed by, “How many moose have you seen? Have you caught sight of those funny-looking striped cows that I saw in a postcard at the co-op? What are the
Englischers
you work with like? Do they cuss,
chew wads of tobacco, and then spit in the dirt? Who does the cooking while you're logging? Does the crew ever eat deer meat?”

Nora peppered Elam with questions throughout the meal. In each case he answered politely without much embellishment. Each of his responses triggered another spate of inquiries from her. In her mind, life sounded so free, so unrestricted up north.

“Calm yourself, sister,” said John during dessert. “You don't even like snow, and soon the northern counties will be buried by several feet of it.”