Authors: Kelly Irvin
The boys didn’t have to be told twice. They skedaddled.
“How can I help?” Bethel eyed the array of pots and pans on the stove. “Do you have
room to roast another turkey?”
“We’ll cook it while we’re eating and have it for leftovers tonight.” Katie grinned
and wiped flour from her cheek. “You can never have too much fowl for this group.”
“We do like our turkey,” Ida chimed in. She looked rested after taking the previous
evening off to come home and be with their visiting family. “And pumpkin pie. Yours
look delicious.”
“You can help set the table if you like.” Katie pointed at a stack of plates on the
counter. “I think I counted sixteen adults and twenty-eight children.”
“Oh, good, I like even numbers.” Bethel let Ida carry the plates with silverware stacked
on top into the middle rooms where sliding partitions had been removed to make the
dining and living room one big space. Perfect for prayer services and holidays. “Are
the napkins already on the table?”
“Indeed they are.” Ida bustled about, leaving Bethel to straighten up the silverware
next to the thick, white china plates. “
Ach
, I’m short a couple of plates. I’ll be right back.”
While Ida went in search of more plates, Bethel busied herself arranging the cutlery.
“They look straight to me.”
She didn’t want to raise her head, but after a moment of hesitation she knew would
not be lost on Elijah, she did. She’d known he’d be there, but somehow had managed
to not think about it. No point in anticipating it or worrying about it. Luke had
accepted this invitation and she knew none of them wanted to be sitting at home thinking
about the distance separating them from the rest of their family. Silas probably felt
some responsibility for that, it being his barn and all, but the invitation had been
extended with the greatest of humility.
“I like the table to look nice,” she said finally. She met his gaze head-on. He wasn’t
smiling. “Don’t you?”
“I’m more interested in how the food tastes.” He gripped the back of a chair with
both hands and tilted his head, his gaze inquiring. “How’s the therapy?”
“We’ve had so much work…” She straightened a knife and fork and then moved to the
first of the children’s tables. “I haven’t had time to use the equipment…but I will.
Soon.”
“Tuesday, you go back to therapy in town.”
“If you can drive me.” She went back to the silverware. “If you have time.”
“You don’t mind me driving?” A fine veneer of sarcasm covered the words. She was sure
of it. “I know how much you like to stand on your own two feet.”
“No need to be snippy. I appreciate your help.”
“You really want to pretend the words we spoke in the barn didn’t happen?”
“I haven’t thought about them one way or the other.” She stopped. Number one, her
words sounded mean. Number two, they were a lie. “I’m sorry.”
“No reason. You’re just being honest.”
“No, I’m not. I’m not a mean person. I don’t know why you bring out the worst in me.”
“I’ll get out of your way so you won’t have that problem.”
“Wait.” She leaned against the table with both hands. “It’s been hard without Leah.
Luke will be happy to have you back at the farm when the holiday ends and the barn
is rebuilt. So will I.”
He shook his head, his lips puckered as if he’d bitten into a sour granny apple. “Okay.”
He sighed, the exaggerated sigh of a boy in a man’s body. “Have it your way. I could
eat a bear, how about you?”
“Jah, me too.”
“Would you like to go for a sleigh ride after we eat?”
“A ride?” She thought of the icy wind that took her breath on the ride from their
farm and the ache in her fingers that gradually disappeared as they went numb from
the cold. But she didn’t dare turn down his peace offering, did she? “Maybe. Lots
of dishes to wash.”
“After the dishes. Come on, fresh air will be good after stuffing ourselves.” His
lopsided smile begged her to give him a chance. “I fixed up the sleigh. It’ll be fun
and warm, I promise. Lots of blankets, a warm stone wrapped in a towel for your feet
and another one for your hands. You’ll see.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
After that Bethel forgot about her growling stomach and watering mouth. The meal was
wonderful, the company good, yet she couldn’t remember what anything tasted like.
Every time she looked across the table to the men’s side, Elijah was looking back
at her.
It took almost two hours to wash the dishes and clean the kitchen, but the time passed
quickly in the steady chatter of Katie’s sisters and her nieces and her sisters-in-law,
all come to visit from Wisconsin. As soon as she felt the work was done and the plans
laid for supper, Bethel slipped away through the living room and past the men gathered
around the fireplace discussing the calendar for planting in the spring—how soon was
too soon and what if they had a late frost—and the children playing a variety of games.
The peace of it washed over her and her stomach settled. In Bliss Creek they’d be
doing the same and the thought steadied her further. Families blessed with the bountiful.
She peeked through the curtain. Sure enough, Elijah was driving up the road in a sleek
sleigh pulled by Silas’s new Morgan. She grabbed her coat and scarf from the hook.
“Where are you going?” Luke called from the rocker where he sat, his long legs stretched
out so far his big boots nearly touched the fireplace hearth. “It’s colder than an
icebox out there.”
“I need a bit of fresh air.” She did. The heat of the kitchen and the mass of women
scurrying to and fro had left her feeling damp and sweaty. “I won’t be gone long.”
She slipped through the door before he could question her more, but not before she
heard the words
fool woman
catch on the cold wind and whip out ahead of her.
The gray woolen scarf wrapped around Elijah’s face reminded Bethel of pictures she’d
seen of a mummy in the
National Geographic
magazines in the library. Only his red nose and blue eyes showed. Without a word,
he helped her into the sleigh. After arranging an enormous fur robe over her, he shouted
giddy-up
and snapped the reins. They took off with a jerk that turned into a smooth glide
over the glistening piles of snow.
“What do you think?” His breath made white puffs of smoke when he spoke. “Nice, eh?”
“Nice.”
She tightened her scarf around her ears and burrowed deeper under the robe. The cold
froze her nose and cheeks. Her throat and lungs burned with each breath.
For a while, they didn’t speak. She enjoyed the sparkles of light on the cascades
of snow that tumbled alongside the road. Bare tree branches dipped and bowed in the
wind, causing shadows to dance across the barren landscape. The sun began to warm
her face a little even in the brisk breeze made by their forward movement.
“Beautiful day, isn’t it?”
“Beautiful. And cold.”
“What’s a little nip in the air? I like it.” His scarf muffled his words, making her
lean toward him to try to hear. “Makes me think of Christmas coming and the New Year.”
“We’ve only just celebrated Thanksgiving. Aren’t you getting ahead of yourself?”
He laughed. “I like to move along.” He snapped the reins again and they picked up
speed. The trees zipped past. “I like to get to the good parts.”
“The good parts?”
“Making gifts for the nieces and nephews, watching their faces when they rip off the
paper. I’m carving farm animals for Hannah and Lydia. If I have time, I might make
a barn to put them in.”
“I didn’t know you were a carver.”
“Lots of things you don’t know about me.”
Bethel didn’t doubt that. Curiosity got the better of her. “Like what?”
“I can whistle every hymn in the Ausband.”
“Are you allowed to do that?”
“I never heard any rules in the Ordnung about whistling.” His tone was wounded. “My
lips are not a musical instrument.”
She laughed. “I want to hear one.”
He pulled down the scarf so she could see his elaborate preparations. Much exercising
of his lips and wrinkling of his nose before he launched into a soft, slow rendition
of “Lord God, We Cry to You.”
She clapped her mittens together. “Another, another!”
“Sorry, my lips are chapped and cracking and my throat is dry from the cold air. My
technique is much better in the spring.”
“A rain check, then.”
“A rain check. I promise.”
A promise for the spring. He held both reins in one hand and reached toward her. For
a second she thought he would touch her face. Instead he tugged at the robe and pulled
it up almost to her chin. “I don’t want you catching a chill out here.”
“I’m plenty warm.”
His smile added to that warmth. She forced her gaze to the pines that lined the clearing.
They smelled clean and fresh. She wanted a bough to put on the fireplace mantel to
remind her of this day.
She cast about for a new topic of conversation. “Did you ever want to play a musical
instrument?”
“I did play one.” He didn’t sound the least bit sorry or embarrassed at this infraction.
“More than one.”
“When?” She tried not to sound shocked. They’d all broken a rule now and again. The
point was to not do it again. “Why?”
“During my rumspringa I asked an Englisch friend to show me how to play a guitar.”
“Did you like it?”
“Jah. Not enough to leave my family and faith over it, but some. I learned to play
‘Amazing Grace’ and ‘Jesus Loves Me’ and ‘Farmer in the Dale.’”
She giggled. That was the point of running around, after all, to scratch those itches
and be done with them. “What was the other instrument?”
He chuckled. “A harmonica. It was harder than the guitar to play. I never quite got
the hang of it.”
Who knew? She ruminated on that fact for a few minutes. She hadn’t done much exploring
during her rumspringa. Her daed kept them close to home, and after what her mudder
had been through, she hadn’t wanted to worry them.
“Your turn. Did you break any rules?”
He made it sound like a foregone conclusion that she had not.
“Of course. That’s part of figuring out whether we can live with them, isn’t it?”
“So?”
She dug through her memories, casting aside all the ones she’d thought about breaking
but hadn’t. “I tried lipstick.”
“Lipstick?” He chortled. “A regular rebel, you are.”
“Vanity is a terrible, sinful thing.”
He sobered. “You’re right, but you aren’t vain. What did you think of this lipstick?
What color was it?”
“Berry mauve.” What a silly name. It had looked sort of purple-pink to her. “My Englisch
friend Jenny said it complemented my skin. But it got on my teeth and it felt greasy.”
“Not your cup of tea. Good thing, huh?”
Indeed. A simple lesson learned. Her lips were the color God intended.
“How are you getting by at the house?’ He started across an open expanse of pasture.
The Morgan picked up speed and it felt as if they were skimming across water, so smooth
did the sleigh ride. “Katie says the boys are well behaved and helpful.”
“Jah. It worries me a little.”
“That they’re good boys?”
She clutched the warming stone to her, searching for words. “They seem worried. I
think they think if they’re bad, Luke will leave them too.”
“Leah didn’t leave them.”
“She stayed behind and kept the little ones with her while allowing Luke to take the
boys. What does that say to the boys?”
“I hadn’t thought of it that way.”
“They’re trying to be grown up for their daed.” She gazed across the pasture, searching
for familiar landmarks. Everything looked so different blanketed by snow. “They don’t
want to be trouble to him.”
“She’ll come back soon.”
“I pray so.”
“Me too.” He turned the sleigh in a wide arc. They hit a drift and the sleigh rocked,
then righted itself. “Gott knows what He’s doing.”
“What about you? Are you happy?”
“That’s a strange question.” He pulled up on the reins and the sleigh slowed. “I have
my family and I work with my brother and your brother-in-law. In the spring we’ll
plant and in the summer we’ll reap.”
“I know. I know. I meant…are you content?”
He didn’t answer for so long, she thought he might not. She couldn’t imagine anyone
else to whom she would have posed such a question. Elijah, like her, hadn’t married
in the expected time. For different reasons, he found himself, like her, living with
relatives and helping them raise their families rather than raising his own. He didn’t
show any signs of minding. Maybe she was the only one who fought off feelings that
made her feel like a spoiled child questioning God’s plan for her.
“I work hard at being content.”