Rosemary Opens Her Heart: Home at Cedar Creek, Book Two (29 page)

“I’ve got no time for playing messenger boy,” he replied. “So when I come back from
telling him your answer, you’re going to explain what this is all about. And then
we’ll discuss the offer I got on the farm and your land today.”

As the door closed, Rosemary’s heart thudded. All week she’d avoided the subject of
Matt’s close call in the buggy, and Beth Ann had merely mentioned that a fast car
had squealed around them and spooked the horse. Emma Graber’s remark about Matt had
been
bothering her, too. There would be no avoiding the two of them once she became their
neighbor, and she wanted no part of getting caught up in their quarrel, either.

“Uh-oh,” Beth Ann murmured. “Sounds like there’s no backing out now, if Dat’s got
a buyer for this place.”

“Jah, life’s moving forward and we’ll have to move with it.”

When Titus returned to the house, they were putting the loaves of bread in the pans
to rise. He slipped out of his boots in the mudroom and then settled into his chair
at the head of the table as though he might stay there until his meal was served—or
until he got the answer he was looking for. “Matt tells me he forgot to turn on the
buggy lights last Saturday while bringing you home, and a car came up on you too fast.
Is
that
what this silent treatment is all about, Rosemary?”

Color and heat flooded her face. What else might Matt have admitted to Titus?

Her father-in-law chortled. “Why do I get the feeling something—or somebody—distracted
the poor boy? Maybe you don’t remember this, but Joe wrecked
two
courting buggies, paying attention to his girlfriends instead of watching the road.
Cost me a pretty penny to keep wheels under my son before he married you, Rosemary.”

Beside her, Beth Ann’s expression brightened. “Jah, I remember that. You were none
too happy with him, Dat.”

“But boys’ll be boys. Matt’s trying real hard to grow out of that, and with the help
of a gut woman, he will.” Titus leaned his elbows on the table, expecting an answer.

Joe had been five years older than her, so most of his teenage recklessness had happened
when Rosemary was too young to be concerned about it. She still didn’t feel it was
any of Titus’s business what had gone on between her and Matt. Then again…if Matt
had told her father-in-law exactly what they’d been doing, maybe Titus was testing
her to see if she would admit to that kiss. “I have a lot of
things to consider when we move to Cedar Creek,” she said as she set the four bread
pans in the oven. “And marriage is pretty low on my list.”

“But you’re going with us? For sure and for certain?”

Not in the mood to hand him an answer so easily, Rosemary reached into the cabinet
for their dinner plates. “How much will this potential buyer pay for my land? You
must be satisfied with what he’s offered or you wouldn’t be telling me about it.”

Titus grunted at her change of subject. “Twenty-two hundred an acre. He likes the
looks of the house and the barns, and wants to run cattle in the pastures. Figures
to raise hay and oats on your parcel.” His gaze sharpened as he rose from the table.
“If you can’t forgive Matt for a simple mistake, I wonder if you’re setting your sights
so high you’ll never find another man. A bird in the hand’s worth two in the bush,
you know.” Titus went into the front room, as though he didn’t want to talk any more
while he waited for his meal.

Tired of timeworn adages about greener grass and birds, Rosemary wiped the flour from
the countertop. At the price Titus had quoted, her forty acres would bring eighty-eight
thousand dollars…not a lot more than Joe had paid for it, but it would make a nice
nest egg for her future.

When the floorboards creaked as Titus walked across the room above the kitchen, Beth
Ann moved closer. “You know,” she murmured, “I always thought a bird in the hand sounded
really…messy.”

Rosemary stifled a loud giggle as Beth Ann joined in. No doubt Titus would assume
they were laughing at him, but she welcomed the relief from the afternoon’s heavy
mood. Maybe her father-in-law had made a good point about Matt’s mistake being fairly
common, and maybe the aroma of baking bread was lifting her spirits, but she felt
better, and sensed she could share an important decision with Beth Ann. She opened
the towel drawer and pulled a Lehman’s
catalog out from under the dishrags. “You know how you’ve been hoping to sew for Abby
once we move to Cedar Creek?” she asked quietly.

Beth Ann nodded, curious about the catalog that was filled with all manner of nonelectric
farm and household equipment.

“Well, I’m going to bake for Aunt Lois’s café and find other places to sell my pies,
too. Baking is my talent, like sewing is yours, and it’s time to set myself up with
a business that’ll support Katie and me…something that’s all my own, just as Abby
has done.” Rosemary smoothed down a page that displayed several models of gas cookstoves
and ovens. “I’m going to invest some of the money I get for my land in gut, dependable
appliances. No telling what condition the Bontrager kitchen’s in—and it could be that
Salome and Perry will take their stove and fridge with them.”

“Oh, I like this one!” Beth Ann said as she pointed to a modern gas range. “It’ll
be a lot less trouble than this wood-burning stove of Mamm’s. But mostly I’m happy
you’re coming with us, Rosemary. It makes the move seem a whole lot easier.”

Beth Ann’s words confirmed that Rosemary had made the right decision, for Joe’s little
sister as well as for herself. She hugged the girl, and for a moment they stood together
with the aroma of warm bread surrounding them…a homey scent that set a lot of things
right. “When I thought about staying here in Queen City, building a house and living
there with just Katie and me, it didn’t feel so gut,” she confessed. “You’re a ray
of sunshine for me, Beth Ann. We help each other a lot, ain’t so?”

“I was hoping you’d see it that way, Rosemary.” Beth Ann looked purposefully into
her eyes. “So, what about you and Matt?”

“I’ll figure that out eventually. Now that I’ll have my own money coming in, I won’t
be dependent on Titus or Matt either one,” she mused aloud, “and that means I can
make my own decisions. I like the way that feels.”

Rosemary glanced at the clock, contented with the way this difficult
day had worked out. “I got out stew meat for tonight. Shall we brown it in the skillet?
Stir in some gravy makings and serve it over noodles?”

“Oh,
that’ll
make Dat happy. He loves anything with gravy.”

Rosemary smiled. Now that she had opened her heart to new possibilities—made
herself
happy—she was finding more satisfaction in making others happy too.

A
s Abby sat in the biggest room of James’s workshop among the other women for the preaching
service on May 21, the air around her vibrated with the congregation’s anticipation.
It was the day God would choose their new preacher.

“‘What doth it profit, my brethren, though a man say he hath faith, and have not works?
Can faith save him?’” Pete Beachey read from the big Bible.

How appropriate that today’s sermons would be inspired by the third chapter of James,
about proving out one’s faith by doing God’s work. Here in the carriage shop, where
special tools hung on the walls, they sat surrounded by evidence of James Graber’s
service, his calling. Abby remembered the work James had done on behalf of members
in need, as when he’d replaced the vehicles the Ropp family lost in their fire last
December and when he’d built a special carriage with a lift for Joel Detweiler’s wheelchair.
James would make a fine preacher, but only married men’s names would be whispered
to their deacon after worship this morning. Every man and woman present sat forward
in earnest, awaiting the falling of the lot that would determine which family’s life
would be changed in a heartbeat.

As Vernon rose to preach the morning’s main sermon, Abby noticed how the men looked
among themselves, wondering who would be called to serve. Any fellow whose name got
mentioned by at least three members would be summoned to the front for the choosing…

“As we are all well aware,” Vernon began, “today marks a milestone in the life of
our community.” He gazed about the crowded workshop, first at the women and then at
the men. “Preacher Abe and I can attest to the gravity of this process, this ordination
by the Lord our God, which our departed brother Paul knew, as well. Paul Bontrager’s
life bore out the verses in the tenth chapter of Mark, which tell us that ‘whosoever
of you will be the chiefest, shall be servant of all. For even the Son of man came
not to be ministered unto but to minister.’”

Bishop Gingerich clasped his hands before him, solemn yet joyous about the wondrous
act they were about to witness. “We came not to this earth to be served, my brothers
and sisters, but to serve. And while God has known from the beginning of all time
which of you men will be chosen today, we will witness His presence in a profound
way as He makes His will known to us. What a marvel it is, to participate in this
ceremony today!”

Two rows in front of Abby, Barbara shifted on the pew—as did the wives of other men
who might have to answer the call. While Vernon spoke of the privilege of becoming
Cedar Creek’s new preacher, everyone in the room realized that the new leader they
chose would be required to put his spiritual duty before all personal commitments
and earning his living. He would be called to correct them when they strayed from
the righteous path. He would stand before them and preach God’s word without any training
or notes, regardless of how terrified he might be and how inadequate he might feel.

As Vernon continued his sermon, a little child chattered. Abby smiled back at Rosemary,
who hushed Katie with a finger and a stern look. Titus had brought them into town
yesterday, and they’d stayed
at Lois and Ezra’s so they could attend their new preacher’s selection. Time had sped
by these past weeks since Titus had first mentioned his desire to return. Not only
had the best stitchers among them completed the Friendship Star quilt for Salome,
but Zanna had also hosted a frolic where they had made a smaller, more colorful version
of that pattern for Beth Ann’s new room. Rosemary had mentioned that Beth Ann would
celebrate her thirteenth birthday next week, so Abby was excited about presenting
the quilt this afternoon after the common meal.

As they sang the final hymn, Abby felt the tension escalate. After the benediction,
Vernon, Abe, and Pete stood silently before them to instill the solemnity of the moment
and to prepare their hearts for the process of naming candidates they felt were worthy
to carry out the Lord’s work as their leader.

“Deacon Pete will await your nominations at the front counter,” Vernon announced with
a nod toward the shop’s main room. “As we speak freely and with utmost sincerity,
we are doing our part in God’s great plan for our lives. It is a holy mission we fulfill
here. A journey toward our spiritual future.”

Abby waited, barely breathing, as the men filed into the front room first. Again and
again Sam’s name had come up at their frolics and in the mercantile—but other fellows
had also been mentioned. The big room rang with silence broken only by the movement
of folks going out and then walking sideways to resume their places in the tightly
packed pews.

Abby rose with the rest of her row of women…Eva Detweiler, Hannah Hartzler, Marian
Byler, and other friends near her age walked quickly into the other room. Each whispered
a name to Pete and then returned, most of them white-knuckled. Ever since Paul’s passing,
each of them had considered the consequences to her family if her husband were chosen.
It almost felt like a betrayal to mention a friend’s man for this duty, yet God’s
will was to be carried out.

When Abby reached Deacon Pete, she leaned close. “My brother,
Sam,” she whispered—not because she wanted to burden him and Barbara but because she
believed Sam’s wisdom had increased so greatly last year during their difficult days
with Zanna. She returned to her pew with her eyes lowered, to await the next step
in this nerve-racking procedure.

During the nominating process, James had helped Vernon set a table front and center,
and they had gathered hymnals to use in the selection process. The whole room held
its breath as Pete returned with the list of men who had been mentioned at least three
times. Vernon studied it for a long moment.

“From the gospel of Matthew, which tells the parable of the talents,” he said as he
held up a slip of paper he’d written on, “‘His lord said unto him, Well done, good
and faithful servant; thou has been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler
over many things: enter thou into the joy of thy Lord.’ We have received the names
of five fine men, whom you and the Lord have summoned to this holy moment.”

As James and Matt placed five chairs behind the table, the bishop slipped the Bible
verse into one of the hymnals, mixed the books around, and then laid them across the
table. “Will you please come forward as I call your name?” he said in a voice that
quivered with anticipation. “Moses Hartzler—”