The Rescued (25 page)

A plate slipped in his hand, and he grabbed it, grinning at her when her breath caught.

“Are you sure you know how to dry dishes?” she asked, remembering another day when they'd stood at the sink and she'd felt a closeness to him that had nearly been lost.

“With three sisters, you'd think I'd never have learned, but sometimes I'd help out, especially when Mammi was tired and the girls were small.”

He spoke of them so naturally that it startled her. “I . . . I didn't know that about you.”
About your family,
she'd nearly said.

“You wouldn't, would you?” He fell silent, staring at the soap bubbles as if they held some secret. “I thought it was safer not to talk about them. Less painful.” He shook his head slightly. “I was shutting them out so completely that I'd begun to forget what they were really like. But I don't want Joseph or the other children not to know them. That would be much worse.”

Judith's heart was so full of gratitude. It was as if Isaac had been suffering from a terrible illness and was finally beginning to heal. “I'm glad you can talk about them. I want to remember them, too.”

He clasped her hand, getting his own covered with suds as he did. “Ach, Judith, I've made so many mistakes. I said a terrible thing to you when I said you were not Joseph's mother. I don't know why I did. I've never believed it, not even when I was saying it. You're the only mother he's ever known, and a much better wife than I deserve.”

“Don't, Isaac.” She turned toward him, sudsy water from their clasped hands splashing on both of them. “I've tried to be a gut wife and a gut mother, but . . .” She stopped, afraid to go on. “Don't use words like
deserve
between us.”

She'd startled him; she could see it in his face.

“All right.” He clasped her wet hand in both of his, and his expression grew very serious. “But you must tell me. Is it true that you thought I married you to give Joseph a mother?”

The words nearly rocked her off her feet. The thing she'd promised never, ever to tell him . . . how could he know it? “How did you . . . I mean, why would you . . .”

“Joseph. He must have overheard or misunderstood something. It doesn't matter how. What matters is if you think it.”

She couldn't meet his eyes. The only time she'd ever talked about it was that day with Grossmammi, and Joseph had heard.

“I don't . . . I don't know.” She was stumbling over her words, trying to find the courage to be honest. Why couldn't she be brave, as Mattie had been?

“Tell me, Judith.” Isaac's hands clasped hers tightly. “I must know.”

“People talked, you know.” Her voice was flat, almost as if she didn't care, when in reality she cared more than anything. “When you began courting me so suddenly after your aunt passed. You'd been paying attention to Becky Fisher before, and then everything changed.”

“Becky Fisher?” He repeated the name as if he hadn't thought of her in years. “I took her home from a singing or two, that was all. She was a pretty girl, but such a blabbermaul. A man would never have a moment's peace with her around.”

But he'd noticed how pretty Becky was. And when he'd
suddenly switched his attention to quiet, steady Judith, she'd been so happy. But then, she'd started loving him when she was eight and running around the farm with his sister, pestering him.

“That's not all, is it?” When she didn't speak, he shook her hands gently. “Komm, don't make me guess.”

She would say it, no matter how much it cost. “The day we married, I happened to hear Onkel Simon talking to one of the other relatives. He said how responsible you were, and how you'd done right to pick a sensible, serious girl like me instead of chasing moonshine.”

“And you thought that meant I had married you to get a mother for Joseph?” He was so frankly incredulous that she had no choice but to believe him. “Didn't you stop to think that I had all the moonshine I wanted in you?”

“I . . . well, maybe it sounds silly to you, but at the time—”

Isaac wrapped his arms around her so tightly that he nearly squeezed the breath out of her. “Ach, Judith, what a ferhoodled notion. I asked you to marry me because I loved you. I think I'd loved you since the days when you were running around the farm with your hair curling out of your braids.” He traced a wet finger along her cheek and wrapped it round a curl that had slipped free of restraint.

“You . . . you don't need to squeeze me to death to convince me,” she said, happiness bubbling up in her until she seemed filled with it.

Isaac laughed, loosening his grasp just a little, but then his eyes grew serious. “This would not have happened if I'd been open with you from the beginning. I just . . . I got so used to hiding my feelings so I didn't have to feel the pain that I did the same with you.”

She leaned against him, loving the feeling of his solid body against hers, of his arms strong around her. “You don't have to chatter all the time, as long as you let me in when it counts.”

“Always.” He ran his hand down her back. “Always.”

The back door rattled. Before they could pull apart, Levi was there, with Joseph and the other boys right behind him.

“Mammi, what—”

Joseph grabbed his shoulders and spun him around, herding them all back out the door. “One more game before bed,” he said, laughter in his voice, and the door banged again behind them.

Laughter gurgled up in Judith, and in an instant she and Isaac were both laughing helplessly, clinging to each other. Finally she caught her breath enough to speak. “We shouldn't expect privacy in a house with four kinder, I guess.”

“They'll all be asleep sometime,” Isaac said, still chuckling. “Maybe then we can try for the little girl dishwasher the boys think we should have.”

“Maybe so,” Judith responded, trying to keep her tone light despite the happiness that so filled her it seemed about to lift her right off the floor.

“Ach, my Judith.” Isaac dropped a kiss on her lips. “You are all the moonshine I want in my life, forever.”

L
aughter
and joy seemed to fill the stable at Rebecca's place to the rafters as the community gathered around the tables to celebrate Matt and Rebecca's wedding at the traditional meal. Judith, seated at the Eck, the corner table that was always reserved for the wedding party, could see the happiness on the familiar faces.

“Reminds me of our wedding,” Isaac whispered, leaning over from his seat next to her. “I'm glad Rebecca decided to let me sit with you, even though I'm not one of the wedding party.”

“She knew I wouldn't be happy otherwise,” Judith said. Matt might have a special glow on his wedding day, but as far as she was concerned, her Isaac was the handsomest man here.

Tradition had been bent a little this time, since the bride and groom were older, and one of the newehockers was married. And Rebecca would always do what was thoughtful instead of following custom blindly.

In every other way, though, the wedding had gone off as Amish weddings always did. The lengthy service this morning, with Rebecca, Judith, and Barbie sitting in straight chairs facing Matthew and his two side-sitters, had been much the same as every other wedding that would be performed this season. The same scriptures, songs, sermons, and prayers had emphasized the gravity of the occasion when a new family was formed in their community.

When the bishop had come to the end of a part of the main sermon, he had looked gravely from Rebecca to Matthew. “Now here are two in one faith,” he had said, and their faces had shown that they truly were of one faith. Judith's heart had swelled within her as Rebecca and Matthew stood and held hands before him.

They had both come through many trials before reaching this place, and that made their joy all the sweeter. Judith's thoughts flickered to Mattie, who seemed like such a close friend, even though they'd never met. Mattie and her Adam had gone through trials to come together, too, and when Judith had read of Mattie's wedding in the letters, she'd found herself crying a little—happy tears, but bittersweet because she'd never really know them. Still, they had kept their promises and found their happiness.

Isaac squeezed her hand under the table. “Look at Barbie, flirting again. It's going to catch up to her one of these days.”

“She'll run into someone so determined that she'll be married before she has a chance to think twice about it,” Judith said, watching as her cousin chattered away to the nearest male, who happened to be one of Matthew's cousins.

“That might be the best way where she's concerned.” Isaac
craned his neck to glance across the room. “I wish they'd let us help with the serving.”

Rebecca, hearing him, leaned across Judith, her cheeks pink and her eyes glowing. “You and Judith did plenty of the work getting ready for the meal. Now it's your chance to sit still and enjoy it. Believe me, there will be plenty of cleanup afterward.”

“We'll be ready,” he said. “And thank you for asking Joseph to help, too. He's feeling very proud of his responsibilities today.”

Judith glanced around the stable, searching for Joseph, and found him carrying a tray in from the wedding trailer that had been set up outside, holding all of the extra utensils needed to feed the hundreds of guests who were present. Joseph did indeed look as if he enjoyed what he was doing, actually pausing to say something, laughing a bit, to a girl who must be about his age.

Their Joseph, getting interested in girls? He was growing up.

Judith met Isaac's gaze, to find that he'd seen the same thing she had. He smiled, shaking his head. “Girls. What next? At least we'll be well broken in by the time our Levi hits his teenage years.”

“I imagine we'll worry just as much about each one of our kinder.”

And especially about the next one, should it turn out to be the little dishwasher they'd joked about. She smiled to herself. She hadn't confided her suspicions to anyone, not even Isaac. Wait until she was sure before she spoke, but if she was right, it would be time to set the cradle up again next summer.

Isaac's gaze was on her face, and his eyes seemed to grow more intent. “Judith? Is there something you should be telling me?”

She could feel the flush growing in her cheeks. She had longed for this sort of closeness with Isaac, and now that she had it, it was so much more than she'd even dreamed of. He almost managed to read her thoughts.

“I wasn't going to say anything, not until I knew for certain.”

His hand squeezed hers tightly, and for an instant tears seemed to shine in his eyes. “Nothing would make me any happier than another child to love.”

She leaned closer, knowing that no one would hear their words in the clamor of voices that filled the space. “Are you sure? Think about a baby disrupting your sleep, and needing all my attention, and us having to hush the boys when they're noisy.”

For just an instant something seemed to startle him. He looked as if he had seen an image he hadn't expected.

“Isaac?” Her fingers tightened on his.

“It's nothing.” He squeezed her hand, his smile growing warm. “I will love every minute of it.”

“You looked as if something had shaken you.” Her gaze searched his face.

“Ach, I should know I can't keep anything from you, my Judith.” His voice softened. “I just suddenly understood something, and I must tell Joseph about it. And you.” He looked down at their clasped hands. “That night—the night when folks say I saved Joseph from the fire.”

“You did save Joseph,” she said quickly.

“I got him out.” He paused. “But I just realized, when you spoke of the baby waking us up at night. I woke up because Joseph was crying.” He looked at her, his eyes filled with wonder. “If he hadn't, I would never have wakened. I'd have gone
under from the smoke, like the others. But he cried, and he woke me. Don't you see? Joseph saved
me
from the fire.”

For a moment her heart was too full for speech. Then she stroked his hand gently. “You saved each other,” she said. “That was how it was meant to be.”

He nodded, holding her hand tightly. They'd saved each other that night. And each of those who loved went on rescuing one another throughout life, saving them from grief, or pain, or doubt, or any of the other perils of living as people of faith in the world. That was always their promise and their
joy.

Sticky Buns

Sticky buns are a favorite treat in our area, and they're best served warm from the oven.

1 pkg. yeast, dissolved in ½ cup lukewarm water

2 cups scalded milk, lukewarm

2 cups sugar

1 teaspoon salt

6 cups flour

½ cup butter

½ cup raisins

1 cup brown sugar

extra brown sugar, about 2 cups, as needed

2 teaspoons cinnamon

Add yeast mixture to the warm scalded milk. Stir in sugar, salt, and flour. Shape into a ball and place in greased bowl, turning to grease all sides. Cover and let rise in a warm place until doubled
in size, about 2 hours. Meanwhile, melt the butter and soak the raisins in warm water to soften. Prepare 3 9 x 12–inch baking pans by greasing well and sprinkling the bottoms thickly with 1 cup brown sugar.

Once the dough is raised, punch down and roll out on a floured board to a rectangle 1½ inches thick. May be divided in half for easier handling. Spread with the melted butter, brown sugar, and cinnamon. Drain the raisins and dot over the surface of the dough. Roll up like a jelly roll and cut into 1-inch slices, making 36 to 40 pieces, depending upon the size of the slice. Lay the slices flat in the prepared pans. Sprinkle tops with brown sugar and cinnamon. Let rise until the rolls are doubled in size.

Bake 25 minutes at 375ºF.

Shoofly Pie

FOR FILLING:

1½ cups boiling water

1 teaspoon baking soda

1 cup of light or dark molasses

FOR CRUMBS:

4 cups flour

2 cups brown sugar

pinch of salt

1 cup shortening

FOR PLAIN PASTRY:

make or purchase 2 9-inch pastry shells

For filling, mix together the boiling water, baking soda, and molasses.

For crumb layer, mix together flour, brown sugar, and salt. Cut in shortening until crumbs form.

Line 2 9-inch pie tins with pastry. Pour half the filling into each shell. Divide the crumbs and put half in each shell atop the filling.

Bake at 350ºF for 35 minutes.

Dandelion Salad

2 quarts of dandelion greens, leaf lettuce, or spinach

2 eggs

½ cup sugar

½ cup water

½ cup cider vinegar

¼ pound bacon, fried crisp and broken up

sliced hard-cooked eggs or sliced mushrooms (optional)

Wash and drain the greens and place in serving bowl.

For dressing: Beat eggs; add sugar, water, and vinegar. Add to bacon pieces and stir over low heat in a frying pan until the dressing thickens. (Or heat in top of a double boiler, if you prefer.)

Pour the dressing over the greens and add sliced hard-cooked eggs or sliced mushrooms, if desired. Serves 6.