by Emma Miller
Lynita Byler stood only five feet tall, but she was a hearty-sized woman, round with chubby cheeks and a smile that was infectious. Phoebe didn’t know how old she was, despite the fact that they were celebrating her birthday this evening. Lynita had made it plain her age wasn’t anyone’s business, but Phoebe suspected she was in her early-to mid-seventies.
Lynita studied her from behind her round, wire-frame eyeglasses. “Nice boy, your John, but a bit coddled. I say let him run. If he falls...” She shrugged. “Be there to pick him up. It’s how I raised my son, and Marshall, too,” she said referring to Lovey’s husband. “And Sam.”
After the deaths of Marshall and Sam’s parents, Lynita had moved in with her grandsons and Marshall had become his little brother’s guardian. Then, a little over a year ago, Lovey had married Marshall and they were expecting their first child at any moment.
Phoebe smiled and nodded respectfully. In the community she had come from, all the women wore black prayer kapps, but here in Hickory Grove they were reserved for the elders. A woman of Lynita’s age and experience was someone all the younger women looked up to. Someone they could all learn from.
“Thank you for inviting us to celebrate your birthday with you,” Phoebe said. “Lovey’s family, everyone here has been so kind and welcoming.”
Lynita frowned. “Not offering any more than you deserve.” She raised a thick, gray eyebrow. “Rosemary tell you I know Edom Wickey?”
Phoebe shook her head no.
“Through a cousin’s daughter. Not well, but well enough to know what kind of man he is. Well enough to know you deserve every kindness we can offer you. More. I’m just thankful you were able to get yourself and that son of yours out of that house. I— Don’t let those boys touch that cake!” she hollered into the sitting room. She looked back at Phoebe. “I best go rescue my birthday cake. Made it myself. Rainbow sprinkles. You had them? They sell them at Byler’s.”
Phoebe pressed her lips together to keep from giggling. “I’ve seen them. Never had them.”
“Well, you’re in for a treat. Taste like coconut candy. Mary Elise! Don’t you let them put their fingers in that cake!” Lynita hustled through the doorway, her short arms pumping.
Smiling to herself, Phoebe walked back to the kitchen, thinking she would get a start on the mountains of dirty dishes piled on the countertops. Lovey had said they could wait, that she and Marshall would ret them up after everyone went home, but Phoebe thought she would at least get a start on them.
Lovey had put on quite a spread. Besides making chicken and dumplings, Lynita’s favorite, there had been broccoli, coleslaw, green beans and yeast bread. And as if that wasn’t enough, there had also been pickled beets, mashed potatoes and homemade applesauce. Phoebe had eaten until she was stuffed. And there was still the rainbow sprinkle cake to be served along with homemade cinnamon doughnuts, rahmpudding and huckleberry streusel.
At the sink, she had just filled the dishpan with soapy hot water when she heard someone walk into the kitchen. A man, by the sound of the footsteps.
“There you are.”
Her first thought when she had heard the footsteps was that it was Joshua and she had already started to spin around to greet him. But as the man spoke, she realized it wasn’t Joshua.
It was Eli standing in the doorway.
“Oh,” she said, her smile fading. Then, realizing how that must look, she offered the best smile she could muster. “Eli.” She hoped she didn’t sound too disappointed. He was such a nice man. She didn’t want to hurt his feelings.
“I thought you might be hiding in here.” He walked into the kitchen, seeming quite at ease, which surprised her. Most men weren’t comfortable in any woman’s kitchen but their mothers’ and their wives’.
“I was...starting the dishes. Washing.” She pointed lamely at the dishpan of sudsy water.
“I can see that.” He chuckled. “I’ve washed a few dishes myself. It’s where I start, too.” He pointed. “With dirty dishes, clean water and dish detergent.”
She dried her hands on her apron. Despite him trying to make a joke, she felt awkward there alone with him. The other times they had talked, they had always been surrounded by other people. “You’ve washed dishes?”
“Ya.” He walked closer, sliding his hands casually into his pants pockets. She could see that he’d recently trimmed his beard. Unlike many men his age, which had to be more than thirty, he didn’t let his beard grow long and scraggly. His hair was also neatly trimmed. And he looked to be wearing a new shirt because the blue hadn’t faded yet, a blue close to the color of the sky.
“As I told you, I’m a single man. With four children to care for.” He smiled kindly. “Someone’s got to wash dishes. Lizzy’s not tall enough yet.” He chuckled. Another joke.
Phoebe smiled, feeling self-conscious. “Right, I guess I was just thinking...your mother, you said she was living with you.”
“Ya, she is, but...not to be unkind, but she’s not a lot of help. She does what she can, but she’s elderly and has a bad hip, and really, why should my mother still be washing my dishes and my clothes? She did that for me the first twenty-five years of my life.”
Phoebe nodded thoughtfully. He had a good point. And she liked the fact that he didn’t think that just because his mother was a female, she was responsible for the household chores.
“Which leads me,” Eli said slowly, “to a question I have for you.”
Phoebe felt the blood drain from her face. She immediately knew what was coming. He still hadn’t given up the idea of walking out with her. She had hoped Eli would just let it go, but obviously he wasn’t going to. Her next hope was that someone would come into the kitchen and save both her and Eli from this awkwardness, but she could hear the birthday guests laughing and chatting in the other rooms of the house. She doubted either of them was going to be rescued. She exhaled, meeting Eli’s gaze. “Ya, Eli. What do you want to ask me?”
“I think you know.” He took a step closer.
He smelled of soap and laundry detergent. A clean smell that was pleasant. But it didn’t make her light-headed the way Joshua did when he stepped too close to her. “Eli,” she said softly, already feeling bad.
“I want to ask you again if I can court you.”
“Eli,” she said again. “I know that you think—”
“Ne.” He held up his finger. “Hear me out, Phoebe. Now that you’ve brought your son to Hickory Grove, you must know you can’t stay under Benjamin’s roof forever. I understand he’s a hospitable man, but—”
“Joshua Miller has asked me to marry him,” she blurted.
Eli blanched. “I see.” He paused, staring at the floor for a moment, then went on, “Did you...” He lifted his gaze until it met hers. “Have you accepted?”
“I... Not yet, but...I care for him,” she finally said.
Eli thought for a moment. “Phoebe, Joshua is a nice boy, but he’s just that. A boy. He doesn’t have the experience to join two families together.” He threaded his fingers together. “Your situation...with John, it would be better accepted in the community, were you married to a man a bit older, a man with children, a man...” He exhaled, seeming to be searching for the right words. “A man who understands that we all sin and can accept others’ failings.”
“John-John isn’t a failing,” she said tersely.
He hesitated. “Maybe I could have chosen a better word. I don’t always say things the right way, Phoebe, but...I would be a better choice for you as a husband. And I can promise you that your past would never come between us. Your son would be my son the moment we were wed and I would never treat him differently than my own children.”
“Oh, Eli.” She looked away, then back to him. “I’m sorry but I can’t,” she said softly. “I have...feelings for Joshua.”
Again he met her gaze. And she felt bad beca
use she could see his disappointment in his eyes.
“I appreciate your honesty,” he said at last. “And...I won’t pester you, but, Phoebe, I want you to know that I’m not taking back my offer. If you change your mind—and I think you will—my offer still stands. I want to marry you. I’d have the banns cried on Sunday if you’d have me.”
Phoebe clasped her hands, staring at the floor. She knew Eli was right. He would make a good husband, a good father. But her heart already belonged to Joshua. “Thank you, Eli.” She looked up. “I’ll not forget your kindness.”
He walked out of the room, his footsteps seeming to echo in the kitchen. As Phoebe watched him go, she prayed she had not made a terrible mistake.
Chapter Ten
A customer’s harness in hand, Joshua halted at the closed door to his father’s workshop. Bay had said she’d just seen him heading that way, so Joshua was fairly certain he was inside. It was odd that the door was closed, though. Benjamin never closed his door, his way of welcoming any children or stepchildren or friends or neighbors at any time of the day.
“Dat?” Joshua called hesitantly. “You in there?”
“Jacob?” came his father’s voice from the other side of the door.
“Ne, it’s Joshua,” he replied. It didn’t bother him that his father couldn’t tell his voice from his twin brother’s. There were a lot of folks that couldn’t look at them and distinguish one from the other. According to Rosemary, all of her stepsons sounded alike, and she claimed she couldn’t tell the difference between them if she wasn’t face-to-face.
“Come in!” his father called.
Joshua opened the door and walked into the workshop where his father was spending hours each day making his very first buggy, start to finish. Joshua found him seated on a stool at a workbench against the wall. He was wearing a pair of wire-frame eyeglasses he used for close work.
“Close the door.” His father waved at him, leaning to peer behind him. “I don’t want Rosemary snooping around.”
“Snooping?” Joshua asked, pushing the door shut with his foot. “What would she be doing snooping around your workshop? Besides, she went to Lovey’s. She’s not back yet.”
“Don’t want to risk it,” Benjamin said. “You know how women can be. Eyes in the backs of their heads! Come see what I’m making for her. It’s a Christmas present.” He beamed.
“A Christmas present?” Joshua was surprised because his father and Rosemary didn’t, to his knowledge, exchange gifts. Gifts were not exchanged in Amish homes the way they were in Christian Englisher homes. Like most Amish families, while the Millers did recognize the day, it was a quiet affair spent in family prayer followed by supper. Small children often received a single gift of a homemade toy, or a new pair of mittens, wrapped in brown paper and twine, but that was usually the extent of it. Although, the previous Christmas, Rosemary had surprised everyone with new flannel scarves she’d made, as well as a stack of puzzles she’d bought at Spence’s Bazaar. They had spent the evening, after supper, putting puzzles together and drinking hot chocolate and eating cookies. It had been one of the finest Christmases Joshua could remember.
Joshua carefully hung the portion of the broken harness Lee Bontrager had just brought by over a ladder-back chair that needed a new cane seat and approached his father’s workbench.
“It’s a little stand for her prayer kapp,” Benjamin explained, his voice filled with enthusiasm.
He had taken a block of gorgeous walnut, sanded it smooth, placed a thick dowel rod in the center and then attached a smaller block on top. Joshua didn’t know of any women who had such a stand, but then as a single man, he didn’t know the details of a woman’s life behind her bedroom door. What he did know was how precious an Amish woman’s prayer kapp was to her and how well she cared for it. In his entire life he had never once seen his mam’s or Rosemary’s or one of his sisters’ kapps lying on a counter or table, or even dangling from the clothesline. Women wore their kapps most of their waking hours and when they weren’t wearing them, they were stored carefully in their bedrooms. The kapps were rarely washed, but when they were, they were stuffed with paper to dry and then starched back into perfect shape.
“I’m thinking about adding a light stain,” Benjamin said, thinking aloud. “Then a couple of coats of poly. I’ll do a fine sand between each coat, of course.”
“It’s beautiful, Dat,” Joshua said. “Rosemary will love it.”
Benjamin shrugged. “It’s been a hard year for her, what with the little ones getting more active and then her foot surgery. I wanted to have something nice for her.”
Joshua slid his hands into his pockets, thinking to himself that when he and Phoebe were married, he might make her a stand to hold her prayer kapp as a gift. He couldn’t think of anything more fitting for a husband to give a wife. He could just imagine what it would look like on top of the dresser in their bedroom.
“It’s a nice piece, Dat.”
Benjamin sat back, nodding as he studied his handiwork. “Ya, I think it— Oh, wait. I forgot to show you the best part.” Brushing away sawdust, he reached across the workbench and picked up an object the size of a quarter.
Joshua stepped closer to get a better look. His father held a delicate carving of a rosebud in the palm of his hand.
“Made from rosewood,” Benjamin said, proudly. “Got the wood from the chair shop over at Seven Poplars. Carved it myself.”
“It’s beautiful, Daddi.”
“A rosebud, you know, for my rosebud,” his father went on to explain, his cheeks reddening. “I’m going to glue it right here.” He indicated the center of the block of wood that rested on the bottom. “I think the rosewood will make a nice contrast against the walnut.”
Joshua nodded, taking a step back, slipping his hands into his pockets again. At first, his father’s open affection for Rosemary had made him and his brothers a bit uncomfortable, but now that he had gotten used to it, he liked it. He liked the fact that his father was a man who could show some emotion in a culture where it was never encouraged, even frowned upon. And now that he knew what it felt like to love a woman, to love Phoebe, he understood his father’s desire to express his feelings for his wife. When he had fallen in love with Phoebe, it had all made sense to him. So many things in the world made sense to him now.
Wanting to lighten the moment, Joshua pointed to the delicately carved piece. “A bit fancy, though, wouldn’t you say. What will the bishop think?” he teased his father.
Benjamin smiled. “I don’t expect Bishop Simon to ever have need to be in our bedroom, do you?” He shrugged. “I doubt he’ll ever know about it. And if he does and he takes issue, he and I will sit down and talk about what the good Lord has to say about a husband caring for his wife.”
Joshua didn’t doubt his father could take on their bishop, quoting Bible verse. It wasn’t unusual for Amish men and women not to be well-read in the Bible. Many folks thought that was best left to the preachers and the bishops, but it was his father’s belief that any man who had a head for the Lord’s word should be familiar with it, so he could share them with others. Friends and neighbors sometimes came to Benjamin about religious matters rather than to their preacher. It happened so often that there was talk he might be the next preacher in their church district.
Remembering what he’d come for in the first place, Joshua reached for the harness that he’d left on the chair. “I wanted you to have a look at this breastplate. Lee Bontrager thinks it can be repaired.” He grimaced. “But I think not. I think it needs to be replaced. He said I should ask you, though.” He cast a sideways glance at his father. “I guess he doesn’t think I know what I’m talking about? I’ve only been working in your harness shop since I was ten.”
Benjamin chuckled and reached out to run a finger along the leather that was near cut through. “Lee means well. Doesn’t always think through how thin
gs he says might be taken.” He took a closer look, pushing his eyeglasses up on his nose. “What happened to it? It looks like a rat has been chewing on it.”
“Lee didn’t say,” Joshua answered. “I thought the same, but it’s not like one man wants to tell another he’s got a problem with rats in his barn.”
Benjamin shrugged. “True, but it’s not as if we haven’t all run into it one time or another. It’s his dislike of cats that’s the problem. Last year, he had rats after his guinea hens. I keep saying, ‘Lee, what you need is a couple of barn cats.’ But he won’t hear of it.” He ran his fingers over the leather once more. “Ne, I’ll not fix that. It will only come unsewn again and then I’ll look like I don’t know what I’m doing. Tell him it will have to be replaced.”
“Will do.”
“And tell him he needs a cat,” Benjamin added, pointing his finger at his son.
“Right.” Joshua chuckled as he headed for the door. Lee was waiting for him in the shop. He was chatting with Bay when he left him.
Joshua had just reached the door when his father called back to him.
“Wait, Joshua. I meant to speak to you about something, when I had you alone.”
Joshua turned back to him, the harness in his hands. “Ya, Dat?”
“The girl.” His father suddenly sounded hesitant, as if he had a mind to say something but didn’t want to. He removed his eyeglasses and set them on the workbench. “Phoebe.”
Joshua suddenly got a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. “What of her?”
“I’m not exactly sure how to say this. I mean no ill will to her. I just—” Benjamin sighed. “I think... Son, you’ve been kind to her. A good friend, and you’ve been so good to the boy, but I—” He looked up at Joshua. “I think you should take a step back.”
Joshua narrowed his gaze. “A step back? What do you mean?”
