An Amish Family Reunion Read online

  Leah wasn’t sure if it was the shock over Jonah penning a letter or the exorbitant price mentioned by the Realtor, but something made her sick. She barely reached the bathroom when the small amount of breakfast she’d eaten made a hasty reappearance.

  THIRTEEN

  Emma clutched her purse in her lap and glanced over her shoulder at her smiling sons. Both boys were strapped into car seats in the backseat of Lily Davis’ truck.

  “Are you going to have fun at Grandma’s?” asked Aunt Lily, peering at them in the rearview mirror. She received dual affirmative nods, although the baby only mimicked his brother. “I want you to tell me about it on the way home, okay, Jamie?”

  The boy nodded again as Emma turned to face her sister-in-law. “Thanks for the lift to my parents’. I love being able to spend the day with my mom. She’s been down in the dumps lately with two of her children out of state.”

  “Well, Leah’s home now. I picked her and Jonah up a few nights ago. And I pass your folks’ place on my way to the OSU Extension Center, Emma. I’ll be lecturing all day on bovine husbandry. You might as well enjoy some free taxi service while I’m living at home for the summer.”

  “I must admit the drive to Winesburg by buggy seems to get longer every time.”

  “That’s because the two of them get restless.” Lily grinned at her nephews in the mirror. For the remainder of the drive, she entertained Emma with amusing tales from her life as a country vet.

  “Thanks, Lily,” said Emma at the Miller farm. “I’ll see you later when your workshop is over.”

  Her sister-in-law waved goodbye as she drove away. Emma picked up Sam and took little Jamie’s hand and headed toward the house. Once she and the boys stepped across the threshold, Julia scolded her with the first words from her mouth.

  “Emma! Why on earth didn’t you tell me you were coming?” Julia stood by the sink looking as angry as a wet hen. “I have nothing baked but whole wheat bread! Not a cookie in the house.”

  “Hullo, dear mamm. Jah, I’m tickled to see you too.” Emma smiled as she set the baby’s carrier on a kitchen chair.

  Julia smiled at the sarcasm. “Make yourself comfortable while I rustle up some chocolate chip cookies. That is, if you can stay more than an hour. Those boys look thinner. Aren’t they eating for you?” Julia limped to the cupboard and began taking out sugar, flour, and baking chips.

  So like mamm. She writes letters containing poignant pleas to come visit, and then she spends the first hour scolding. “They eat like their father—often and in great quantities. I can’t keep chewy peanut butter granola bars in the house.”

  “What are those?” Julia pulled the basket of brown eggs from the refrigerator.

  “Exactly what the name implies, plus they’re coated with chocolate. James and Jamie love them.”

  “They don’t sound healthy. Do you not bake from scratch, daughter?”

  “They are very healthy, with oats, peanuts, peanut butter, honey, and all natural ingredients. And of course I bake from scratch, but Grandma Davis got them hooked on the bars.”

  “Hooked?” Julia snorted as she poured glasses of milk.

  Emma settled into the chair next to the baby and drew a bottle from her diaper bag. “Did you think we’d have a snack and let you watch?” she asked little Sam. She gazed into her son’s blue eyes as a wave of emotion stole her breath away.

  “Vas kommed fon nawtur vare gude fur dine libe un sael,” said Julia to Jamie as she set down his cup of milk.

  The child blinked his huge eyes several times.

  “Isn’t your mamm teaching you the language of your heritage?” she asked him in Deutsch again.

  Jamie continued to stare at his maternal grandmother without reply.

  Emma leaned over and patted his arm. “Grossmammi told you ‘What comes from nature is good for body and soul,’ like your milk.”

  The child picked up his plastic cup and drank heartily, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

  “Then she asked you if I was teaching you any Deutsch,” explained Emma.

  Jamie grinned at Julia and nodded yes. “Ich vill some kuchlen.” In their Amish dialect he told her he wanted some cookies.

  Julia laughed while measuring sugar into the bowl. “Se sind ready eb un shippley si schwanszwie mol shittla con.”

  Jamie looked to Emma, who translated the words into English. “She said they’ll be ready before a lamb can shake his tail twice.”

  Julia banged her wooden spoon against the bowl. “I don’t understand, daughter, why my grandson knows so little of our language. Your New Order district speaks Deutsch, the same as Old Order.”

  Emma lifted her youngest from the car seat to set in her lap. “That’s my fault. Their father’s Pennsylvania German is still not great, although it is improving…slowly. We usually speak English around the table and during evening devotions. I have been teaching Jamie his prayers in English.”

  “No, Emma. That is not how it’s done!” Color rose up Julia’s neck into her pale face. “To learn Deutsch, they must hear it continually—not this going back and forth between the two. Once the boys start school will be soon enough for English, after they’ve mastered our language.” If she cracked the eggs into the bowl any more vigorously, shells would pulverize. “If you ask me, your ehemann would have learned the language by now if Deutsch was the only language spoken in his household.”

  “As you pointed out, it is his household. But I will discuss your idea with James tonight at dinner.” Emma walked to the window to rein in her temper. She knew her mother was right, but why must she approach any discussion this way? Instead of offering helpful suggestions, she still treated Emma like a child or teenager coming home late from a date during rumschpringe. At what age did a daughter become an adult woman in her mother’s eyes? What could be pleasant afternoons often turned into a defensive parlaying between the two strong-willed Miller women.

  But Emma knew one thing for certain: She was her mother—or rapidly turning into her. And despite mamm’s doggedness, there was no place on earth she would rather be than here in her warm, sweet-smelling kitchen.

  Phoebe had become proficient at completing odious tasks without a single roll of her eyes. When she helped her mother scrub out the chicken coop, did she complain? No, and she didn’t balk when the clothesline broke, sending freshly laundered sheets into the dust and dirt. As she rewashed the sheets, she contemplated her afternoon visit to the library to see her friend and business partner, Eli Riehl. During the past seven days, she’d completed five double-page illustrations, each portraying the rude cow interacting with other barnyard residents. The cow was a loathsome bully who delighted in name-calling and hurting the feelings of other animals. She verbally abused the dog, horse, pig, goat, and rabbit before she landed in trouble with no friends to call on for help. Phoebe couldn’t wait to show Eli her sketches for the opening scenes, and she practically sang during morning chores.

  “Mamm, do you remember I’m going to the library this afternoon?” she asked between bites of a bologna sandwich.

  “Jah, but I will drive you into town.”

  “Why?” Phoebe sputtered, choking on the suddenly dry bread.

  “Because I have a doctor’s appointment and your dad needs the other buggy to go to Wilmot. That’s in the opposite direction.” Hannah peered at her curiously while fixing sandwiches for Ben and Seth.

  “Oh…okay.” Phoebe sipped some tea to wash down the sandwich. “I just didn’t want you to trouble yourself unnecessarily.”

  “No trouble. I’ll come back to the library when I’m finished at the doctor’s and after I stop at Ruby’s Country Store. She’s running a sale on heavier-weight fabrics because they’re out of season. You’ll have plenty of time for whatever you plan to do there for the second week in a row.” Her expression of curiosity intensified with the lifting of one eyebrow.

  Phoebe sighed, knowing the time had come for full disclosure. “When you’re finished with your errands,
you can head for home. I’m meeting a friend there, and I’m sure he will drive me home afterward.”

  Hannah’s head swiveled around so fast she easily could have suffered whiplash. “He? Your friend is a boy? Who is he?” She stopped making sandwiches and dropped into the chair next to Phoebe’s.

  “His name is Eli Riehl—”

  “You met Robert Riehl’s son? Of Riehl and Son Beef and Swine Farm? Oh, my. They have the best-tasting smoked hams in the county. My mouth starts watering just thinking about their honey-maple glaze.”

  Phoebe wrapped up the rest of her sandwich for later. “I suppose it’s the same Riehls. I met Eli on the bus to Niagara Falls and seemed to have more in common with him than with most other people.”

  “Why is that? Did you develop a sudden hankering for pork chops?”

  “Mamm, could you stop thinking about food for one moment? Eli is different than most boys. He doesn’t talk endlessly about horses or baseball or fishing. He likes to make up stories as his hobby. He asked me to draw some pictures to go along with one of his favorite stories.”

  Hannah placed her hand over her heart. “You may have met the other matching shoe, Phoebe! Shall I buy yards of soft blue fabric and enough white lawn to make a wedding outfit? Of course, your father won’t let you marry until you’re at least twenty. He still sees you as his little girl—”

  “Stop, please. Let’s go back to discussing food. Eli and I are just friends. That’s all.” She picked up her tote bag and headed for the door. “Shouldn’t we get going? Doctors don’t like to be kept waiting. I’ll get the buggy.”

  Her brother met Phoebe halfway to the barn with the open two-seater already hitched to the Morgan. “Danki, Ben,” she said, taking the reins and climbing inside.

  “Bring me some candy from town. Any kind will do,” he said with a ten-year-old’s exuberance.

  Hannah climbed in a few moments later and they trotted the horse briskly all the way to Winesburg, but Phoebe still arrived at the library twenty minutes late.

  Eli was sitting at the same table flanked by a high pile of books, same as before. “I had almost abandoned hope,” he called the moment she entered the well-lit reading room.

  The same librarian was on duty and nodded as Phoebe passed her desk. The woman mimed pinching someone’s cheek when the younger woman smiled in her direction.

  “My mother dropped me off. She had some errands to run and needed to come into town,” said Phoebe, settling into the chair beside his.

  Eli jutted out his lower lip. “How long do we have before she retrieves you? Has she just come for an ice-cream cone and then turning around?”

  “Not to worry. I told her to go home without me when she finishes her appointments.” She graced him with her prettiest smile.

  “That’s very brave to volunteer to walk. I hope you wore comfortable shoes. It’s quite a distance, no?” He opened the top book to the page he had marked with a small slip of paper.

  Phoebe’s expression fell while her brows beetled above the bridge of her nose. “Walk? I thought surely you would offer to drive me home.” Her shyness vanished with the possibility of a four-mile hike.

  Eli met her eye. “You thought surely?” he asked from under his silky hair.

  “I did. I hope I didn’t err with my supposition.”

  He laughed with abandon. “I seem to be rubbing off on you. That never happens at home. And since you’ve made an effort to expand your vocabulary, I shall drive you home. Now, let’s take a look at these examples of illustrations—all very good but all very different.”

  Phoebe appreciated the distraction because she didn’t know how to interpret Eli. Was he teasing yet again? Or was he honestly not thrilled about adding another eight miles to his trip today? That could cause him to be late for evening chores. She’d never met anyone Amish who was as difficult to decipher as an algebra textbook.

  Turning her attention to the open pages, she marveled at images of scenes that couldn’t possibly take place in nature. “I can’t fathom how they did this.” She tapped her finger on the page. “These look like photographs, but how do you take a picture of a pig in a top hat, dancing on hind legs? Or this one, wearing a dress?”

  “I was wondering the same thing.” Eli leaned over the book. “But my guess is the artist scanned his or her sketches into a computer, and the software added the color and glossiness to achieve the overall effect. I know that graphic illustrators can do amazing things with the right computer program.”

  True to form, Phoebe stared at him with an idiotic expression on her face. “I’ll have to take your word on that.”

  “Only for now you do. But one day I intend to show you what I’m talking about. Let’s look at the other books I selected. I picked these because I believe they have all been digitally enhanced.”

  Her expression changed to total bafflement. “Would you speak English, please?”

  “That means the artist used a computer to alter and improve the original drawings.” As the two pored over several children’s books, Eli pointed out various aspects he either liked or disliked. He certainly had strong opinions regarding what he was looking for.

  When they finished the last volume, Phoebe lifted her tote bag onto her lap. “Would you like to see what I came up with during this past week?” Her voice had the intensity of a baby sparrow’s first cheep.

  “Of course I would!” Eli shoved everything out of the way while she extracted her sketch pad. With trembling fingers she opened the cover to the first drawing.

  He pulled the tablet in front of him. “Wow!” he exclaimed. “This is great!” Unlike her, he could have been heard in Wooster.

  “Please keep your voices down, or I’ll be forced to pinch some cheeks,” warned the librarian, chuckling merrily as she resumed her work.

  Eli blushed as he studied all four creations: a young Amish girl talking to the mean-spirited cow, the cow stuck in river mud while the other cows abandoned her, the little girl trying to pull Bessie out, and then the girl enlisting help from the pet dog and the family rabbit. The cow had been cruel to the dog by mocking his bad breath and had humiliated the rabbit because of his protruding front teeth. Yet both animals tried to help the friendless cow in her time of need.

  “These are wonderful, Phoebe. They are exactly what I was thinking of.” Impulsively, Eli snaked his arm around her shoulders and hugged her. “You read my mind—a feat that’s never been accomplished before in the annals of history.”

  A warm sensation began in the pit of her stomach and spread down to her toes. “It’s your story that’s wunderbaar,” she said. “I love how you used animals to demonstrate proper Christian behavior. You’re teaching children in a fun way to turn the other cheek when wronged by others.”

  “We’re in this together, Phoebe.” He placed his hand atop hers. “I hope every parent and schoolteacher will rush out to buy our book for their kids. Then behavior among Ohio children will improve dramatically—both Amish and English.” Eli dropped her hand to lace his fingers together behind his head.

  “Buy our book?” she asked, still shaky from his touch.

  “Of course. That’s what authors do—they make a living writing books that folks buy and enjoy.” He tipped his head back to stare at the ceiling. “That sure would beat mucking hog pens for the rest of my life. I could hire someone to help Dad while I sit on the back porch making up stories.”

  “Where would we sell them? From a stand alongside the highway?”

  Eli hooted with laughter, drawing a glance from the front desk. “No, sweet peach. These aren’t cups of lemonade or bushels of fruit. They would be sold in bookstores like those in Sugar Creek, Millersburg, and Berlin. Even the grocery and hardware stores have spinner racks of books. I think tourists would love to take our book home as a souvenir.” His eyes glazed to an unusual brightness.

  Phoebe didn’t appreciate being mocked. “You’re getting way ahead of yourself, Eli Riehl. In case you haven’t looked in the
mirror lately, we’re Amish. We don’t have computers or that fancy-schmancy software you’re talking about. I’ll bet you don’t even own a typewriter.” She rolled her eyes. “What we have is one giant sketch pad and an adorable story, but that’s a long way from the book rack at Lehman’s.” She snapped her mouth shut, not meaning to sound so negative and spiteful. She was sure her one true friend—her other matched shoe, as mamm called him—was about to stomp out in a huff…leaving her with a four-mile walk home.

  Surprisingly, he did not. Eli didn’t seem offended by her outburst. “All true, Miss Miller. I do have a habit of getting ahead of myself, but every business venture must start with a plan. And I have a few tricks up my sleeve that I’m not ready to reveal quite yet.”

  “Because you need to work out some glitches?”

  “Exactly, but tell me, are you willing to step forward in faith with only our talents? I have a fine, low-tech steno pad and pen you can use to take notes if you wish to hear the rest of my story.”

  She nodded, grabbing the pad and pen. “Why not?” she said with a smile. “Maybe I’ll be able to pay Ben to pick slugs off cabbages with my share of the book sales.” Phoebe turned to a fresh sheet, feeling that warm sensation build again throughout her body. Could they really do this? Create a real book for children that people would buy? She didn’t think so, yet knew she would enjoy every minute of their joint attempt.

  An hour later Eli stacked the books they had used on the library cart and escorted her toward the door. As they passed the librarian’s desk, the woman said, “Good luck, kids. I think it’s a great idea. Count on me for your first sale.” Phoebe nodded and smiled at her.

  “Number one, we’re not kids,” he said as they climbed into his buggy. “And number two, I really must learn to speak quieter in that place. That Englischer heard every word we said.” He slapped the reins on the horse’s back and turned in the direction of the Miller farm.

  But Phoebe barely heard anything else on the ride home. Her mind whirred with ideas for illustrations for the remaining scenes of Eli’s delightful story. If he believed so strongly they could do this, then so would she. Everyone needed a dream, and with perseverance and hard work this dream might someday come true.