An Amish Family Reunion Read online

  Hannah paused to reflect. “That’s true. Sometimes even young people die. God may call someone home who by our perspective is just starting life. But His plan is perfect for each of us. Not everyone has been chosen to live a long earthly life, but He promises paradise for those who believe.”

  “So we’re supposed to hope we don’t fall in love with the wrong person—someone whose earthly time might be cut short?”

  “Not exactly. You need to let God’s love fill your heart first and foremost, because His love is the only love we can never lose. It must be sufficient, because in the end it’s all we have. Our other relationships might be fleeting, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t form them. Look at the price you pay by living in fear, afraid to let people close.”

  Phoebe’s head jerked up from the beans. “What do you mean?”

  “The reward for fear isn’t protection from pain; it’s loneliness. You’re miserable now because you have lost your friend.”

  “No, I got mad because he threw away our goal of publishing a book.”

  “He had to face the reality of being an Amish farmer. That’s not the same as throwing away your shared dream. Maybe the two of you can find a way so he can have both.”

  She stared at the pile of bean tips, hoping they might offer a solution. “Do you think I behaved like a selfish child?”

  “If you did it’s because you’re young.” Hannah laughed unexpectedly, much to Phoebe’s chagrin. “If people my age still make mistakes, surely you could be forgiven one selfish lapse of judgment.”

  “He was the only one who could see inside me, whom I felt safe with. And I know I hurt his feelings.”

  “Then you should apologize. But even if Eli no longer shares your dream, that doesn’t mean you should abandon it.”

  “Danki, mamm,” she murmured, fighting back tears. “Somehow being a famous children’s book illustrator doesn’t hold much joy anymore.” Several teardrops fell into the bean trimmings.

  “Come here, dear girl. You’re not so big that you can’t by comforted by your old mamm.” Hannah wiped her hands on a paper towel and opened her arms wide.

  Phoebe sprang onto her mother’s lap, just like the time her favorite lamb, Joe, had died. She buried her face against Hannah’s shoulder and cried herself dry, praying she’d never grow too old to find comfort in her mother’s arms.

  Charm

  Emma walked among her beloved flock of merino sheep, counting the number who could be shorn immediately. Because she’d hired a helper for spinning and carding, Emma wanted as much wool ready to be woven as possible by the time she returned from Winesburg. Englischers would pay a very good price for handmade woolens, especially if the profits were going to a good cause. Her newest employee, Myra Sandoval, from Guatemala, had come to the United States with her husband on a temporary agriculture visa and work permit. They had since applied for citizenship with help from James. Myra’s ambition and strong work ethic far made up for her less than fluent English. Occasionally the two women would scratch their heads, stymied by certain words they couldn’t pantomime, but by day’s end they had usually accomplished a great deal despite their language barrier.

  The jangle from her cell phone startled Emma from her mental woolgathering. The small screen indicated the caller was her husband.

  “Emma?” asked James. “Where are you? My mom stopped here on her way home from the hospital. She found the note you’d left on her kitchen table about returning to your mamm’s for another week.” He let several seconds pass before adding, “She seems very eager to talk to you.”

  Emma grinned at the phone, even though no one could see her. If she knew Barbara Davis, the woman was pacing the length of their front porch, while the engine of her fancy convertible idled in the driveway. “Tell her I’ll be right there. I’m in the north sheep pasture, but I’ll be down in a few minutes.” She clicked the phone shut, picked up Sam to avoid a short-legged pace, and took hold of Jamie’s hand. “Let’s run, son. Granny is here to see you.” Except for the word “Granny,” she spoke in Deutsch so as to identify which grandmother had come for a visit. He happily complied because he loved to run, and seldom did his English granny stop by without treats.

  Emma hurried as fast as her long dress and the rocky terrain allowed. Rounding the house, she found her mother-in-law walking back and forth on the porch, still dressed in her nurse’s scrubs. She set the squirming toddler down in the grass.

  “Emma, Jamie, Sam!” Barbara hurried down the steps and swept Jamie into her arms. She hugged him tightly, kissed his forehead, and then swung him around. Her exuberance befitted a longer period of absence than two weeks. When Sam reached her side he raised his arms above his head.

  “I hope you haven’t been waiting long,” said Emma. “You must be tired after a twelve-hour shift.”

  “I was, but it’s amazing how two little imps can revitalize me.” Barbara set Jamie down and picked up Sam to duplicate her efforts. “An instantaneous second wind.” She hugged and kissed the child with the same enthusiasm and swung him in a wide arc. “Jamie, go look in the front seat of my car. I bought you boys some homemade whoopie pies, made by none other than your Aunt Leah. And take Sam with you.” She set the toddler down.

  “Did you stop at the Bylers’?” Emma climbed the steps after her mother-in-law, but she kept an eagle eye on her sons. Blessedly, the car engine wasn’t running.

  “No, her whoopie pies are for sale at the market in Sugar Creek. I stopped to shop on my way home. Is Leah branching out from pies into cookies?”

  “Uncle Seth grew spelt this year and had some ground for baking. So she’s trying new items. How about some iced tea? I made a fresh pitcher of it this afternoon.”

  “I can’t stay, but I wanted to speak to you before you went back to your mother’s. I have plenty to get ready before the reunion, as all the nearby districts will be there. Thanks for the invitation, by the way. I wrote it on the calendar.” Barbara pushed a lock of silver hair behind her ear. “Tomorrow is the last informative meeting before our mission trip. Those who have returned from Haiti will give testimonials regarding progress being made. Why don’t you join me? Then I can drive you and the boys straight to your parents’ after we’re done.” She flashed a magnificent toothy smile and braced her palms on her slim hips.

  Emma closed the distance between them, matching her facial expression in love and affection, if not in enthusiasm. “Thanks for being patient while I made up my mind, but I’ve chosen not to travel out of the country.”

  “But I already hired a nanny to care for the boys while you’re gone. And your New Order sect permits airline travel and encourages mission outreach.” She blinked several times with her head cocked to one side. “I talked to my son about this, and he said the decision was solely yours.”

  “Bring that bag up here, Jamie Davis,” hollered Emma. “You boys may have one sweet treat each.” She shook her head at the way they attacked the bakery as though starving urchins. Dinner had been barely an hour ago. She turned back to Barbara with newfound serenity and grace. What she had been praying about for days had been delivered. “Yes, and I thought over the matter long and hard before making up my mind. I don’t wish to leave my family and travel to a foreign country. In fact, I never want to be far from home.” She accepted the sack from Jamie’s outstretched hand and then pointed at the sandbox. He ran off with Sam toddling close on his heels.

  Barbara couldn’t have looked more disappointed if she had practiced in front of a mirror. “I know seeing those videos of the Haitians’ plight touched you deeply. I would have thought you’d be moved to help alleviate suffering. And we’ll break ground for a new Christian church while we’re there. A local pastor has gathered a flock, and they need a roof over their heads.”

  Emma met the woman’s disapproval with confidence. “Those people, indeed, burdened my heart. That’s why I’m weaving all the woolens I can for the fund-raiser I’ve organized in our district. Everyone I’ve tal
ked to will contribute yard sale items and homemade crafts or food for the buffet. We’ll serve a donation-per-plate supper the day of the sale. The last fund-raiser netted an average of twenty-five dollars per plateful. And I hope for at least two or three hundred folks to show up. The Grange donated their hall and yard for the event, while every newspaper in the area will post free advertising. The local furniture makers, the large jam and jelly producer, and just about every business in Wilmot, Charm, Winesburg, Berlin, Sugar Creek, Trail, or Millersburg has promised free merchandise to help raise money. The event will be the last Saturday of September, right before you leave. James and I are pledging five hundred dollars, plus we’ll collect contributions from everyone we come in contact with. Your mission team needs more than able-bodied helpers—it needs cold hard cash to buy cisterns, septic systems, and construction materials, besides food, clean water, and medicine for those in dire circumstances.” She finished her explanation with a slow smile. “Are you sure you won’t have some iced tea?” she asked.

  The woman stared as though not recognizing her. “Maybe I will have a glass before I head home.” Barbara climbed the steps but didn’t take her focus off Emma. “I’ve underestimated and, perhaps, insulted you, Emma. And for that I apologize. You are absolutely correct. A large sum of money will be needed to restore the island to even its humble circumstances before the quake. And if Christian churches want to multiply across Haiti, those funds must continue for years.”

  “Boys, come into the house,” called Emma, holding open the door. She waited until Barbara followed Jamie and Sam inside before continuing. “I’ve had plenty of time to think while my mom worked on the boys’ Deutsch. I talked to Leah, Henry, Aunt Hannah, and my dad to help spread the word about the fund-raiser.” She placed her hand tentatively on Barbara’s shoulder. “When you leave in October, you’ll be taking plenty of Holmes County prayers and good wishes along with you, besides every dime we can scrape together between now and then.”

  Barbara turned and enfolded Emma in a bear hug. “Thank you, sweet daughter. I am so proud of you.”

  Emma hugged her back. Then she pulled away to pour their tea. At long last, there wasn’t a single thing left to say.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  Winesburg—Byler Dairy

  Here, taste this.”

  Leah opened her mouth and closed her eyes. She let the chunk sit on her tongue for a moment before chewing. The cheese’s texture was firm yet still rich and creamy. Some sort of chewy dried fruit added tartness to the mild flavor. “Yum-my.” She dragged out the two syllables for emphasis.

  “Do you really like it? Tell the truth. Don’t try to flatter me.”

  Leah opened her eyes. Joanna Byler waited with several other varieties lined up on her tray. She counted them aloud. “…seven, eight, nine, ten. I can’t sample all these. The doctor warned me about gaining too much weight. I’m having one boppli, not twin hippos.”

  Joanna clucked dismissively. “English doctors. They have no idea how hard Amish women work around a farm. That weight will fall off in no time with a little one to tend besides keeping up with your pie orders.”

  “I hope you’re right. What was that fruit? I loved the taste.”

  “Dried cranberries. Now try this one.” She scooped up sample number two.

  Leah nibbled from the spoon and smacked her lips. “Delicious. Those are dried blueberries, right? I like the crumbly texture. Most of the cheeses you’ve made with fruit have been soft and spreadable.”

  “Exactly.” Joanna bobbed her head. “I wanted solid, aged chunks with dried fruit that can be sliced and eaten alone or crumbled over pastas and salads. A creamy consistency limits the buyer to spreading it on crackers or toast.”

  “Your son eats it right out of the container with a spoon, despite all my attempts to discourage the practice.”

  “That’s my boy, never one to follow rules unless you chase him with a switch.” Joanna assessed her tray. “What will be next? I have three mild white Goudas with currants, blackberries, or strawberries. I also tried out walnut smoked cheddar crumbles and parsley and chive Swiss. I made small test batches for family and friends.”

  “You’ll have to wait for other guinea pigs.” Leah pushed back from the table. “My stomach is signaling I’ve had enough, but I vote yes on both of the samples I tried. Where did you get the dried berries?” She reached for her bottle of antacids in the cupboard.

  “Ach, I forgot to tell you.” Joanna slapped her forehead with the palm of her hand. “While you were staying at your mamm’s for a few days, your friend April Lambright stopped by. After I finished giving her another tour of the dairy and explained what I wanted to experiment with, she volunteered to take me to the bulk foods store. I bought a bit of every seasoning, herb, and dried fruit or vegetable they had. It must have been nice having a Mennonite business partner, wasn’t it? Someone to run errands and drive you places.” She sampled one of her cheeses, jotting notes into a spiral notebook. “April said she might be able to fill in for me in the future while I’m gone.”

  Leah sipped a glass of water as some niggling questions swam through her head. Why is Joanna expanding her cheese line if she’s planning to leave again? Surely she wouldn’t expect April to take over the business without prior experience or knowledge of the cheese-making process? And I will be no help whatsoever in the dairy during my pregnancy. Irritation began to build in an already upset stomach. She turned to initiate the long overdue discussion with her mother-in-law.

  For a moment, Leah studied Joanna as she sat at Grandma Burkholder’s oak table, trying to objectively analyze her. Her kapp, slightly frayed at the edges, sat askew. Her apron had been ruined long ago by stains that wouldn’t budge despite repeated launderings. Her cool blue eyes looked almost crossed behind her thick eyeglasses. Leah’s heart clenched with compassion as she watched the woman who had welcomed her into the household and treated her like a daughter.

  “May I ask you something that’s been troubling me?” Leah sat down in the opposite chair with her drink.

  Joanna pulled a face. “Ugh, this walnut cheddar tastes as salty as pickle brine. I didn’t notice that April put salted walnuts in the shopping cart.” She took a long swig of iced tea before jotting down more notes. Then she pitched the rest of the sample into the trash. “What is it, my dear? Do you need something from the upstairs medicine cabinet?”

  “No, nothing like that. I’m curious about…your plans for the future. I know you thoroughly enjoyed your visit with your sister. And that you still miss your former home up north and the rest of your kin.” Leah forced herself to continue before her resolve faltered. “Jonah explained to me while at mamm’s that Amos left the farm to him instead of you as I had assumed.” Her air sputtered out, leaving her breathless for several seconds.

  Joanna fluttered her eyelashes. “I agree with everything you’ve said so far, but I’m not sure of your question.” She lifted a strange-looking blue-green sample to peruse and then placed it back on the plate.

  Just the color of the cheese turned Leah’s gills a matching hue. “Do you plan to move back to Wisconsin in the near future? Because if you are, you shouldn’t increase the number of special varieties. April doesn’t know a thing about making cheese. She got in over her head at the diner. Not that it should be held against her forever,” she added hastily. “But you can’t expect me to work in the dairy with the baby coming. Jonah wants me to cut back my pie making.” Leah inhaled a great gulp of air and waited for Joanna’s list of excuses.

  But the older woman merely stared at her. “Have you gone plum addled-brained?” she asked after a brief hesitation.

  “It’s a distinct possibility.” Leah clutched her water glass with both hands. “I’ve been out in the yard without my full-brimmed bonnet.”

  “Do you think I would move back to Hancock with my first kinskind on the way? You and Jonah have been waiting and praying and waiting some more. Well, so have I. Now that I will finally become a
grossmammi, I’m not going anywhere.”

  “I hoped you wouldn’t.” Leah sounded meek as a mouse.

  “Rest easy, missy. I wouldn’t leave you two—make that three—for all the milk in the cheese capital of America.” She winked one blue eye. “I actually wrote to my sister that our next family visit would be right here in Winesburg.” Joanna gestured with her hands to indicate the large, and at the moment, uncluttered room.

  “Danki, mamm. That sets my heart at ease.” Leah’s eyes flooded with moisture. “There go my emotions! I’ve been crying over everything and nothing for weeks.” She wiped her face with a hanky. “The other day I accidentally trampled a tomato plant in the garden and started to sob when the main stem snapped off in my fingers. I felt so guilty.”

  Joanna patted her arm. “Normal hormone fluctuations. I’m sure the tomato plant accepted your apology. Believe me, I know we’ve been stretched to the limits around here. I don’t intend to increase the number of varieties of cheese, only replace some of the slower sellers.”

  Leah lurched as her future son or daughter kicked her in between the ribs. “I believe the littlest Byler has voiced their approval.” She met her mother-in-law’s gaze. “I’m glad you’re staying. This is a two-woman kitchen, if ever I’ve seen one—first you and Esther, and now you and me.”

  “And I’m praying for plenty of future reinforcements,” she added with a grin aimed directly at Leah’s rounded belly.

  Phoebe rolled steamed cabbage leaves around balls of seasoned meat and rice until she and her mother filled three huge roasting pans. They put shredded cabbage between the gaps and then poured enough tomato juice to cover the top layer.

  “They are finished,” announced Hannah. “Now we’ll have plenty of pigs-in-a-blanket to feed people whenever we need them.” She pulled her spotted apron over her head and washed her hands at the sink.