An Amish Family Reunion Read online

  Martha shielded her eyes to peer toward the street, lifted her hand in a little wave, and then turned back to him. “That’s true. I suppose my taking a walk won’t cause any great hardship.”

  Matthew stuck out his elbow, an old-fashioned gesture he hadn’t used since his courting days. “I have something to show you. Let’s head toward the barn instead of down the drive.”

  “A new horse? I know I complained that my buggy mare won’t mind me, but it’s too expensive to haul livestock great distances.”

  “No, not a horse. You’re stuck with that balky mare.” He winked at her, knowing he’d picked an especially slow trotter for her short trips to neighborhood farms.

  Martha placed her hand in the crook of his arm. “Does this have anything to do with your conversation with your daed?”

  He jerked his chin around. “How did you know about that?” Just before they reached the barn, Matthew pulled her off the path, cutting through the yard toward the road.

  “I apologized to your mother this morning. She’s been deprived of seeing much of Noah and Mary while I’ve been across the street. I should have brought my mamm and sisters over to your house more.”

  “I haven’t seen them much either, and I’m even fonder of them than her.” He made sure his tone remained nonconfrontational. They had fought enough lately to last for the next ten years. “I haven’t seen much of you as well, and I’m mighty fond of you too.”

  “Still? Even after how I’ve acted?”

  “Still. My own behavior hasn’t exactly been a model for husbands-to-be.”

  She peeked up from beneath her thick dark lashes. “Do you know any husbands-to-be I’m not aware of?”

  “I might, but don’t change the subject, fraa. I didn’t bring you on this walk to spill the beans about my little bruder.” The words popped out before he could stop himself. They both broke into peals of laughter.

  “Henry has a gal? I thought he’d be too shy to start courting.”

  “He does, but you didn’t hear that from me, Martha Miller.” With a quick movement, he snaked his arm around her waist, pulling her to his side.

  She didn’t object or pull away. Instead, she plucked some tall Queen Anne’s lace that grew along the way. Butterflies delicately gathered late summer nectar. “Where are we going? Should I have packed a cooler?”

  They had reached the road and for several minutes talked to the people arriving in a long string of buggies. Each family asked the same questions: “How’s it being back home, Matthew?” “What are those New Yorkers like? Do they talk funny?” “You still keeping to the old ways now that you work for those rich Englischers?” Finally, after assurances he would catch up to each man for an update later, the last of the buggies headed up the lane.

  The pair crossed the road, jumped the drainage ditch, and walked to the shade of a gnarly Osage orange tree. The spot would provide a few minutes of privacy. Matthew remembered his grossmammi gathering baskets of the large green pods that dropped from this tree in the autumn. She would spread them around the foundation of the house, insisting they kept spiders out of the basement and root cellar all winter. Come to think of it, he’d never seen a spider in the cellar while grossmammi was alive. Matthew released his wife’s hand to spread his arms wide. “What do you think of this pasture?”

  Martha gazed in the direction he pointed with little interest. “This old field that the Lees own? Because livestock stopped grazing it years ago, it’s overgrown with sumac, poke, thistle, and blackberry briars. There’s barely a blade of grass left.”

  “But what do you think of it? Look at how the land rolls up to those stately evergreens. There’s a nice feel to this land. It’s not too rocky, and the soil hasn’t been worked to death.”

  She squinted to focus on the pines in the distance. “Those are the old Christmas trees that Mr. Lee planted hundreds of one year. He thought they would turn a quick profit so he could take his wife on a cruise to Alaska. He didn’t realize how long that variety took to mature. And not many Englischers want to drive this far to cut their own Christmas tree.” Martha threw back her head with a laugh. “Mrs. Lee said they’re helping the planet by returning the land back to forest.”

  He leaned his shoulder against the rough orange bark. “There are still plenty of acres that could be planted with grass. There’s access to a running stream too.” He bit the inside of his cheek for concentration.

  She pondered this for a minute. “Are you’re talking about the same stream that runs through my parents’ farm? It dries up by midsummer. That’s why daed had to find a spring and dig a pond for livestock water.”

  Matthew settled his hat on the back of his head. “Ah, there are springs in the area—good to know.” He couldn’t hide his enthusiasm any longer.

  “What’s the matter with you? Why are you so interested in Mr. Lee’s investment acreage?”

  “Because this isn’t Mr. Lee’s land anymore.”

  Comprehension registered on her face like sun coming over the eastern hills at dawn. “Whose is it?”

  “It belongs to Matthew and Martha Miller, formerly of Willow Brook, New York, and soon to be once again of Winesburg, Ohio.”

  “You bought it?” The question came soft as a child’s prayer.

  “I had to, once I heard my brother asking daed questions about it.”

  “We had enough money?” Martha still didn’t know if she could believe it.

  “Enough for a decent down payment. We’ll have a mortgage, but we got a good interest rate. Because the market is still down, Mr. Lee sold it at a fair price. He said he didn’t want to pay taxes on fallow land any longer.” He straightened away from the tree.

  She ran into his arms. “Oh, Matty. That’s such wonderful news! I’m sorry what I said about the thistle and sumac. And blackberry pie is one of our favorites.” She hugged him tightly.

  “We could save a few patches from the scythe. Weeds and scrub brush look better when they’re your own, don’t they? And we get to keep all those overgrown Christmas trees.”

  “They do, indeed.” She turned her face up to his. “We’ll be across the street from your folks and right next door to mine. That is, if you let me move here with you. I wouldn’t blame you if you made me stay in New York after the poor way I’ve treated you.” She bit down on her lower lip.

  “I can’t think of a better person to build a house for.” He brushed his lips across hers before they started walking through the tall weeds.

  “You’ll build us a house? What kind?”

  He laughed. “Something not too big to start, but we can always add on later. I had my eye on this property before we even got hitched. It was less overgrown, but you know what? It looks better to me now than then.”

  “What about your job? Good jobs like yours don’t come along every day. At least, not in Holmes County.”

  They checked traffic before sauntering across the road. “I have prospects for a new career in mind. And if need be, I could also work at Macintosh Farms. Mr. Mac said he’d take me back anytime. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We still have a party to go to. Folks will want to chat with us, and here we are sneaking off like a courting couple.” They strolled hand in hand up the Miller driveway, under oaks and maples that had weathered storms far worse than theirs.

  “Danki, Matthew Miller,” she whispered.

  “I’d do just about anything to make you happy, Martha Miller.”

  There it was—his heart once again pinned to his shirt for her to do with what she would. But he had a notion his future was in loving hands after all.

  TWENTY-NINE

  Phoebe, let’s go already!” Ben halted in the path ahead with an expression that could curdle milk. “If I knew you planned to dawdle like this, I would have ridden with mamm and daed in the buggy.” Over his shoulder hung a canvas bag of bats and balls, an inflatable raft, and his swimming gear.

  Phoebe caught up to him as quickly as she could, trying not to jostle her per
fect lemon creation inside the cake tote. “I’m walking as fast as I can. Simmer down.”

  “Half the Miller reunion will be over by the time we get there, and we’re actually Millers.” He took hold of her forearm and began to drag her. “I want to swim, play volleyball, pitch horseshoes, and paddle around in my blow-up boat. This hot weather won’t last forever.” He swatted a mosquito as they neared the bog and eyed her container suspiciously. “Why are you carrying that? You should have packed it in the back of the buggy with the other food.”

  Phoebe pulled loose from his grasp. She hadn’t spent forty-five minutes bathing, pinning up her hair, and ironing her clothes only to become sweated up before reaching Aunt Julia’s. “This is a special cake. It’s not for the buffet table.”

  He looked up from under his bangs. “Not for the food table? Then what are you going to do with it at the party?”

  “I plan to hide it in the bushes in the shade.” She swatted something nibbling on her neck.

  Ben wrinkled his nose. “You finally bake something without mamm twisting your arm, and you’re going to hide it in the bushes? If you get any stranger, schwester, you’ll have to look for a different family.” He laughed merrily and again grabbed hold of her hand.

  “Ha-ha. I might be saving it for someone special, but I don’t need to tell a ten-year-old all my business.”

  He opened his mouth to retort but noticed her expression, perhaps remembering the last time she pulled his ear or pinched his arm. As soon as Uncle Simon’s three-story barn loomed into view, he stopped dragging her and took off at a trot. At the top of the rise he paused to call back, “Good luck with that person thinking your cake is as special as you do.” Then Ben Miller disappeared into a sea of friendly faces.

  Phoebe skirted around to find a suitable hiding place before joining her mother, cousins, and aunt in the house. She was not, however, saddled with kitchen duties.

  “The Glick sisters are looking for you.” Hannah blocked Phoebe’s entry into the house. “Go find them. I don’t think they know that many folks, and we have things handled in here.” Cheery greetings from Leah, Emma, Martha, and Aunt Julia emanated from the cool interior.

  Phoebe hollered back her own hellos and marched down the steps. Rebekah and Ava Glick. She hadn’t visited with them since their trip to Niagara Falls. Thoughts of standing at the rail on the Maid of the Mist, walking to Three Sisters Islands, and then missing the bus because she and Eli couldn’t stop talking drifted back, causing the bottom to drop from her belly. She shook off the memory and located the two near the garden fence. They were chatting with some of the older married ladies.

  “There you are, Phoebe Miller. Late as usual! And you live the closest.” Rebekah pulled Phoebe away from the other women after polite greetings. “I’ve brought an add-on letter from Mary Mast in Geauga County.” She handed over a folded envelope. “You can read her news yourself and then add your comments at the end. You’re last in the chain, so mail it back to Mary when you’re done.”

  Phoebe tucked the letter into her apron pocket. “Danki. I’m glad to see both of you. I should have written since I haven’t come to any get-togethers this summer.” She smiled fondly at both sisters, feeling guilty she hadn’t kept up her end of the friendship.

  “You’re forgiven as long as you promise to start coming to socials in the future. There will be all kinds of fun events soon—cornhusking, cider making, hayrides, and bonfires. You’re not getting any younger.” Rebekah clucked her tongue. “Besides, Ava needs another shy person to hang out with since I will soon be leaving the ranks of single gals.” Rebekah snaked an arm around Ava’s shoulders.

  Phoebe’s mouth dropped open. “Are you engaged?”

  Rebekah deflated slightly. “Well, no, not exactly, but we are seriously courting. He’s just very shy.”

  Ava grinned with smug conspiracy as Phoebe glanced from one to the other. “Who’s the lucky young man? Do I know him?”

  Ava burst out laughing, while Rebekah rolled her eyes. “Of course, you know him. He’s your cousin Henry. You really should pull your head out of the rabbit hole every once in a while.”

  Phoebe joined the laughter. “I’ve recently come to the same conclusion.”

  Rebekah looped arms with both other girls. “Good to hear. I’ll expect you at the next social event. Now, walk us to see your cousin, real subtle-like. Henry and I are keeping a low profile until the fall when we see the bishop for his approval.”

  “You, subtle?” asked Phoebe, buoyed by their infectious good spirits.

  “Jah, hard as that is to believe.”

  There was no doubt about the mutual feeling of affection on the part of her cousin. Henry had been giving the little ones pony rides inside the fenced paddock when the three women wandered up like tourists at the fair. His face turned cherry red as he stared at Rebekah and only her.

  “I said, ‘Hey there, Henry,’” repeated Phoebe.

  “Oh, hey, Phoeb, Ava.” But his focus remained glued to Rebekah while he lifted little Jamie Davis from the pony’s back. “You kinner run along to your mamms. No more rides till later.”

  “I’ll walk them back since my job here is done,” offered Phoebe.

  “Ava, you must stay, please, so people won’t gossip.” Rebekah’s lush tone of voice melted over her sister like butter on the griddle.

  Phoebe chuckled while herding the youngsters back to the circle of women. Rebekah and Henry—that secret would be out long before sunset. Her grin widened when she spotted folks in line for the noon meal. The sooner folks ate, the sooner she could pack a hamper for the Riehl family. So she spent the next hour wandering the Miller farm—house, barns, and shady groves—making sure no Riehls had come to the outing. Once confident that none had, she retrieved her mother’s large hamper from the porch, grabbed a handful of reusable containers from Julia’s cupboard, and ran out the door…and right into Eli’s sister.

  “Ooofff,” sputtered Rose. “Where’s the fire, Phoebe Miller?”

  “Rose, what are you doing here?” Her tone revealed her disappointment.

  “I was invited by Leah.” Rose looked crestfallen.

  “Forgive me. That came out wrong. I was just on my way to pack up food to take to your place because I didn’t think any Riehls had come.” She held up the hamper. “Is Eli with you? How did you get here?”

  “Eli didn’t think Leah’s invitation included him. I came with my beau.”

  “Oh, dear.” Phoebe sighed and slumped down to the porch steps.

  Rose hauled her back up like a rag doll. “There are so many people here, you never noticed me in the crowd. Go ahead with your plan. You can thank me later.” She pushed Phoebe down the remaining steps.

  Phoebe didn’t stop hurrying until her hamper overflowed with food and she’d located Lily Davis. The tall, imposing Englischer was sitting with her parents at one of the long tables. “May I speak with you privately?” she whispered.

  Once they had moved beyond anyone’s hearing, Phoebe turned around abruptly. “I know you don’t know me well, Miss Davis, but if you would drive me to the opposite side of Winesburg to run an urgent errand, I would be forever in your debt.”

  Lily stared at the hamper that nearly pulled Phoebe’s arm from its socket and then at her flushed face. “You’re Phoebe, right? Emma’s cousin? Is someone sick?”

  “Yes, I am, and no, nobody’s sick. This situation is only urgent to me personally.” She transferred the basket to her other hand. “A fence needs mending, and the person lives too far away for me to get there and back in a decent amount of time by buggy.”

  Lily pulled keys from her pocket. “Let me tell my parents I’ll be back after an errand. I love a mystery, so let’s go. Meet you at my red pickup.”

  It was all Phoebe could do to keep from crying as she headed toward Lily’s truck. She would see Eli and she would see him today. Just as Lily started the ignition, Phoebe remembered her cake. “Could you please wait one more minute?” She j
umped out and ran to retrieve the yellow cake tote from the low foliage of a lilac bush.

  Lily had a bird’s-eye view from where she was parked. “A hidden peace offering? A cake goes a long way to mending broken fences,” she said as the truck roared to life.

  Phoebe nodded, but she asked the vet questions about her equine practice in Wooster to change the subject. Within an amazingly short period of time, Lily’s truck turned up the lane to Riehl and Son Beef and Swine. “I could run a few errands in Berlin since we’re so close, but if you prefer I stay with you, I will.”

  She exhaled with relief. “Thanks, but this is something I must do alone.”

  “Good luck then. I’ll be back in an hour and will park right there.” Lily pointed to the small graveled lot.

  Phoebe climbed out, lugging enough food for a small nation. With a snap of her silky blond ponytail, the pretty veterinarian drove away with an Englischer’s penchant for speed. Phoebe trudged up the drive to her certain doom.

  She left the hamper in the shade, away from the barn, and found Eli herding the world’s fattest hog and her brood of piglets through an opening in the barn wall. “Let’s step lively into your outdoor accommodations,” he said to the sow. “So I can tidy up and redecorate your indoor quarters.” He wore knee-high boots and a leather apron, but he was still quite dirty.

  “Hello, Eli,” she said, stepping as close as possible.

  When their eyes met, his held a cool assurance that belied his appearance. “Phoebe Miller, what a surprise. My companions of late have all been porcine.” He bent to gently shoo a piglet through the opening to join his siblings.

  She reflected for a moment. “I take it ‘porcine’ has something to do with pigs?”

  “It has everything to do with pigs.” He closed the flap door and then stepped from the pen. “Why have you come? As you can see, I’m in no condition to entertain afternoon callers.” He pointed at the muck decorating his rubber boots.

  She fought back a gag reflux from the odor. “I’ve brought food for your family from the Miller family reunion. We were all sorry you were unable to attend.”