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Authors: Tracey V. Bateman

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BOOK: The Heirloom Brides Collection
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Loneliness for her reserved, gentle mother pinched her chest. Would she ever stop missing her, wondering how life would be different if Mama hadn’t succumbed to scarlet fever? “I hope to keep a large garden and grow all kinds of vegetables. If I can convince Papa to clear enough ground, I’ll put in a patch of strawberries. Papa says there are mulberry, apple, and pear trees growing near the creek at the edge of our property. I hope to make use of those fruits, as well.”

Mrs. Klaassen smiled. “You’re very ambitious for someone who has never lived on a farm before.” She returned the broom to its corner and then moved slowly around the room, seeming to examine the furnishings and the pictures on the walls. “I have no doubt you will do well with your garden. You’ve already turned this little house into a cozy home.”

Clara swallowed a snort. “It’s not nearly as nice as your house.”

“Oh, my dear girl, I know what this place looked like before your father bought it.” Mrs. Klaassen shook her head, pursing her face. “You’ve accomplished a great deal in the short time you’ve lived here. You should be proud of yourself.”

Warmed by the woman’s kind words, Clara found herself admitting, “I hope to put pretty paper on all the walls and paint the bedroom window and door casings white. Our house in Minneapolis had lovely floral wall coverings, and Papa gave our woodwork a fresh coat of paint every spring. The house always seemed so cheery. I want this house to be cheery, too.”

Mrs. Klaassen hurried to Clara and took her hands. “Clara, this house is already cheery. Do you know why?”

Clara shook her head.

The woman smiled. “Because there is so much love between these walls. Titus has mentioned the special devotion you and your father share, and now I’ve seen it myself.” She squeezed Clara’s hands and released them. “Wherever love resides, dear child, there is joy. That is the best kind of cheeriness, do you not agree?”

Unexpectedly, tears pricked Clara’s eyes. She sniffed and nodded. “I agree. Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome. Now…” She marched to the table and picked up a paper-wrapped lump. “Point me to your cellar and I’ll put this salt pork away.” Her eyebrows rose high. “Oh! I just thought of something. Our sow has a new litter of piglets. My
Maun
—” She made a face. “My husband plans to sell most of them. Would you and your father be interested in raising a pig or two for butchering?”

Clara bit the corner of her lip, uncertainty smiting her. “Um… isn’t there a butcher shop in Wilhelmina?”

The woman laughed. “Nä, my dear, the farmers all butcher their own chickens, pigs, and cows. The townfolk buy their meat from area farmers.” Her face crinkled in puzzlement. “What have you done for meat so far?”

“We brought several cured hams and sides of bacon with us when we moved here, and Papa sets snares for prairie chickens.”

“I noticed you have a chicken house. You don’t butcher your chickens?”

Eat her feathered friends? “No, ma’am. I use the chickens for eggs.”

Mrs. Klaassen’s lips twitched as if she fought a smile. “Well, eventually the chickens will stop laying. So you need to find a rooster and then plan to separate one hen as a brooder to hatch new chicks. Then you’ll have more hens for laying and also roosters to butcher.”

Clara’s stomach rolled. She’d never be able to butcher any of the chickens who pecked in their pen. She’d given them names! One couldn’t eat a creature who bore a name like Sally or Rosie. Had she and Papa gotten themselves into a situation beyond their ability?

“I’ll have Titus talk to your father about the need to raise livestock. Titus can answer any questions your father has. We raise pigs, cattle, chickens, ducks, and goats on our farm.”

Clara drew back. “Goats? Do you… eat them?” She hoped she wouldn’t be expected to eat goat meat.

“Well, I suppose we could, but I use the milk. Goat milk makes the best cheese.”

They even made their own cheese? Clara gawked at the woman.

Mrs. Klaassen must have sensed Clara’s dismay, because she gave her cheek a soft pat. “Now, don’t start worrying. You don’t have to learn everything at once. That is the best part of living in a small community. There is always someone close by who is willing to help. Right now you think about getting your garden in. If need be, you can buy meat from your neighbors for a year or two. I assure you, Clara, we won’t let you and your father starve.”

Clara believed her. She’d already proven it by bringing out three crates of groceries.

“Let’s take this salt pork and the potatoes to your cellar, hm?” She looped elbows with Clara and moved toward the back door. “While we’re outside, show me where you want to put your garden. I have seeds saved from last year’s garden. Once I know how large your garden will be, I will know how many seeds to share with you.”

This family was too giving! “Oh, but—”

“Kindly do not argue with me, Clara Frazier.” Mrs. Klaassen hugged Clara’s arm, her smile wide. “We are neighbors, and neighbors help one another. I refuse to take no for an answer.”

Chapter Eight

T
itus flicked the reins, encouraging the horses to pick up their pace. Joy filled him, and he couldn’t hold back a smile that grew into a soft roll of laughter.

Ma turned a curious look on him, her face framed by her plain blue bonnet. “What has amused you?” She glanced at the landscape, holding her hands out in silent query.

“Nothing out there, Ma. Something in here.” He patted his chest with his palm. “Did you see Ezra on those crutches? To be honest, I wasn’t sure they would hold him up. I’ve never built crutches before. But he walked across the porch and even got himself down the steps into the yard. If their yard wasn’t so rough, he probably would have made it all the way to the barn.” He pulled in a deep breath and then let it out in a hearty
whoosh.
“It did my heart good to see him so happy.”

Ma squeezed his knee. “It did my heart good to see you being so helpful to the Fraziers. As the Bible teaches, whatsoever you do for the least of these you also do for Jesus. Your Savior is surely pleased with you, Titus.”

Ma’s words pleased him even more than Mr. Frazier’s excitement over the crutches. He shot her a brief grin of thanks before turning his attention to the road.

“I enjoyed my talk with Clara.” Ma shook her head, clicking her tongue on her teeth. “For someone raised in the city, she has certainly learned the meaning of hard work. But I worry she is getting in over her head. When I spoke of butchering animals for meat, her face became so white, I feared she might faint. She wants a large garden, but she’s only grown tomatoes and strawberries in the past. How will she know when to put out the seed onions and potatoes or how far apart to set the cabbages? Will she know to grow the corn on the south side of the garden so it doesn’t shade on the other plants? How will she ready the ground?” A weary sigh left Ma’s throat. “If only she were part of our church. The women of our congregation take seriously the admonitions found in the book of Titus about older women teaching the younger ones. They would offer advice and counsel to Clara.”

Titus crunched his brow. “You keep calling Miss Frazier ‘Clara.’ ”

A smug look crossed Ma’s face. “Yes, I do. She invited me to call her Clara instead of Miss Frazier.” She bumped Titus’s arm. “I like her, Titus. I think she likes me. And…” She winked, her lips twitching. “I think she likes you, too.”

Heat attacked Titus’s cheek, and it wasn’t from the bright sun. “Ma…”

“No, it’s true. I watched her when you were near. She tries not to look at you too much, but her eyes deceive her and she casts glances your way. Each time she does, admiration glows in her eyes. Whether she likes you because of the things you do for her father, or if she likes you for you, I can’t say for sure yet. But I can say with certainty—she has a high regard for you.” Her expression sobered. “That gives you a great responsibility, my son, to set a good example at all times. But I need not worry. Your father and I raised you to be honorable and trustworthy. Clara’s esteem will not be misplaced.”

Titus transferred the reins to one hand and put his free arm around his mother. “Thank you, Ma.”

She pasted on a mock frown and wagged her finger at him. “Just remember to keep your mind on your work while you’re at the Frazier place. I also noticed how you look at Clara. She is a very pretty girl, and she could steal your focus if you aren’t cautious.”

“I’ll be cautious, Ma. I promise.”

Her grin returned. “You know, I think on Monday I’ll send Andrew with you. While you work in the field, he can start clearing a piece of ground for Clara’s garden. Don’t we have a roll or two of the fine mesh wire left over from protecting the apple rings as they dry in the sun? After the ground is ready for seeds, you boys can use the wire and put a fence around the garden. It wouldn’t do for rabbits to eat up her tender plants before they have a chance to produce.”

Titus laughed. “You think any rabbits will come around with Rowdy there?”

Ma laughed, too. “Oh, that coyote of hers, such a cunning little thing! His belly is so round, I can’t imagine him needing to catch a rabbit for his supper. I think Clara feeds him plenty well.” Worry crinkled her brow. “Son, that is something else about which someone should give her warning. The other farmers might not take kindly to her raising a coyote for a pet. And to be honest, I can’t say it is a wise idea. Although he seems tame now, he’s still young. As he grows to an adult, his wild ways might overtake him. He could be a danger to Clara or their livestock.”

Titus’s chest went tight. Clara—now that Ma called her Clara he couldn’t think of her as Miss Frazier—loved Rowdy. He couldn’t crush her by giving her a warning even if it was for her good.

“Maybe you should say something to her father.”

Titus sighed. Yes, he’d talk to Mr. Frazier. Then Clara’s father could find the best way to let Clara know the dangers of keeping a wild animal. The joy of the early afternoon faded a bit when he thought of Clara’s wistful admission, “
He’s good company for me.
” She depended on Rowdy for companionship. But maybe if she came to see him and Ma and some others in town as friends, her need for Rowdy would lessen and it would be easier for her to let the creature return to the wild. It wouldn’t bother him at all to see her gaze at him with the affection she bestowed on Rowdy.

He flicked the reins again. “Come on now, Buck and Topper. Hurry on home.” Maybe the rattling wagon would shake loose some of his concerns for Miss Clara Rose Frazier. No amount of rattling would make him lose his attraction for her, though. Only God could remove those feelings.

Monday morning, with Andrew yawning behind him and a drawstring sack of sandwiches bouncing from the saddle horn, Titus hurried Petunia up the road to the Fraziers’ place. He hated to push the poor old horse—she wasn’t used to carrying two riders—but Andrew’s slow start put them behind his usual leaving time of six thirty. Clara served breakfast promptly at seven, and he didn’t want to make her wait. Besides, he needed to get there before Joshua Gosen and Floyd Korfe, who’d promised to arrive by half-past seven to help him burn off the field and the stumps. Their knock at the door would be a shock if he couldn’t forewarn the Fraziers.

He had a lot of forewarnings to give Mr. Frazier and Clara. Yesterday at the close of the church service, Ma stood up and shared the many needs of their new neighbors—a coat of paint applied to the house’s exterior, grass and flowers planted in the front yard, the roof patched on the barn’s lean-to, ground for a vegetable garden readied, and a pen for a piglet or two built behind the barn. It was too much for one person, but Ma reminded the congregation,
Arbeit macht das Leben süz
—work sweetens life. So many folks approached her in the yard afterward with offers to help, she had to turn some away.

Andrew yawned again, ending with a short yelp.

Titus chuckled. “Aren’t you awake yet? Be careful you don’t fall off back there. I don’t have time to wait for you to climb up again. You’ll have to walk the rest of the way. But then, if you had to walk, maybe you’d be good and awake by the time you got there.”

Andrew bopped Titus’s shoulder with his fist. “Don’t tease. You know I stayed out late last night at the Friesens’ place with the other young people. You are like an old man already, going to bed with the chickens. Why didn’t you come to the Friesens’ with John and me?”

Titus grimaced. The unmarried young people of the congregation often gathered to socialize on Saturday or Sunday evenings. He’d given up attending their get-togethers more than a year ago. He was at least two years older than all the others, and he’d grown impatient with the young women’s open flirtation. Now if Clara Frazier were to attend, then maybe—

“Next week we’re meeting at the Rempels’.” Andrew’s voice carried a thread of excitement. “Luke and Lyle built matching pony carts, and we’re going to take turns racing them with the
Mäakjes
as drivers. It ought to be great fun. You should come. I bet you would win some of the races.”

Years ago when he was eighteen like Andrew or even twenty-one like John, he would have considered pulling a pony cart with a girl directing him a fine time. But now it only seemed silly. Still, he wouldn’t hurt his brother’s feelings by saying so. “I will think about it, Andrew, all right?”

BOOK: The Heirloom Brides Collection
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