by Jan Drexler
James took another bite of his cookie before he answered. “I like her all right, and I like her cooking. I just want things to go back to the way they were.”
“Then you don’t really want to live here?”
He stared at the half-eaten cookie in his hand. “I guess not. It just isn’t right without you at home.”
Since it was only the two of them in the kitchen, Bethany opened her arms and he climbed into her lap, the way he had when he was little, in the months after Mamm passed on.
“I know you don’t like things to change, but everything will work out.”
James tried to lay his head on her shoulder, but he was too tall. He sighed. “I wish Mamm was still here.”
Bethany thought of the bright profusion of orange lilies. “Do you remember much about her?”
“I remember what her apron smelled like when I hugged her. And I remember when she tucked me in bed at night.” He still held his half-eaten cookie. “I wish she hadn’t died.”
Holding him close, Bethany leaned her cheek on his shoulder. He smelled of hay and little-boy sweat. “So do I.”
Chapter Eight
Andrew was eating his lunch of a bread-and-butter sandwich when he heard a wagon drive into the yard. He shoved the last bite into his mouth, brushed the crumbs off his lap and grabbed his hat on the way out the door.
Dave met him at the edge of his drive as he tied his team to the hitching rail by the back porch.
“I was hoping you would be home. I heard about a farmer selling out south of here and thought you might like to come with me to see what he has.”
Andrew glanced at the noon sun. “Isn’t it a little late in the day for a sale?”
“Not this one. I heard the man is selling whatever he has to whoever comes along. Daniel Miller bought a set of plow shares from him, and said the man has some livestock and more tools. I’m looking for some parts for my combine, and I know you need another horse.”
“For sure. I’ll be right with you.”
As they drove west, and then south at the next crossroad, Dave said, “I haven’t seen you since the wedding. How are things going?”
Andrew shifted in his seat. “Well enough.”
Ja, well enough, but nothing like the first couple weeks of his marriage to Lily.
“What’s wrong?” Dave kept his eyes on the horses’ ears.
“Bethany can be prickly.” Andrew scratched his beard. “We haven’t become comfortable together yet.”
Dave laughed. “From what I remember, the first few months of wedded life aren’t supposed to be comfortable.”
“It’s different than what I thought it would be.”
His friend glanced at him, then back at the horses. “You aren’t regretting this marriage, are you?”
“Regret? I don’t think so. I appreciate Bethany’s care of the house and Mari. Of course, Rose is still living with us.”
Dave drove to the next corner and turned the team west again before he spoke. “That could cause some difficulties. We certainly appreciated Dorcas’s mother when she came to help with the babies, but it was a relief when she went back home last week.” He flicked a deerfly away from the near horse’s ears. “Is Rose going back to Iowa anytime soon?”
“The drought out there hasn’t let up. When I left to come back here, none of the farmers had crops going. The wind had buried all the seeds too deep in the dust, and then the next windstorm blew everything away. There hasn’t been any rain in months, even after the hard winter. I don’t know what she’d do if she went back.”
“She lives alone?”
Andrew nodded. “She supported herself with her garden and her chickens, and she rented out the farm fields. But the chickens didn’t survive the winter, and there’s no use trying to plant a garden this year. I don’t want her to go back to dust and more dust.”
“What does Bethany think about that?”
“That’s the problem. Rose and Bethany are like sandpaper and wool. One of them is always complaining about the other, and Bethany constantly asks me when I’m going to send Rose home. She doesn’t understand what it’s like in Iowa. The biggest problem is that I don’t think Rose understands it, either. She still thinks she can take Mari back there to live with her and everything will be the same as it’s always been.” Andrew sighed. “She keeps saying that this drought has to be over soon. That they never last more than two years.” He brushed at some caked dirt on his trouser leg. “I can’t ask Rose to leave, knowing what she would be going back to.”
“Maybe we could build her a Dawdi Haus.”
“Jonah offered the one on his farm, but she refused.” Andrew shifted in his seat again. “I don’t want to burden you with my problems. We can talk about something else.”
Dave shrugged. “What else are friends for?”
“How are those twins doing?”
As Dave talked about the babies, Andrew listened with one ear, but his thoughts were on Bethany. She wasn’t happy. He wasn’t happy. Rose and Mari seemed content, but they were the only ones. He didn’t want Bethany to regret marrying him, but what could he do to fix the problem?
When they reached the farm, Dave pulled his team to a halt at the end of the lane. The barn had been neglected and half the roof had fallen in. Overgrown bushes hid the house, and the lane itself disappeared into a patch of weeds. The only sign of life was a crooked For Sale sign tacked to a fence post.
“Is this the right place?”
Dave turned the horses into the lane. “If it isn’t, then maybe someone here can direct us to the farm we’re looking for.”
As they approached the house, a man stepped out from behind the bushes with a shotgun cradled in his arms.
“Y’all from the bank?”
“No, sir. We heard you might have some stock or equipment for sale,” answered Dave.
The man laid the shotgun on the porch and walked toward them. “Now that I look at you, I can see you ain’t bankers. Come on in the barn and we’ll see if I have anything you want.”
Leaving the wagon by the house, Andrew and Dave followed the man to the half of the barn that was still standing.
“You boys from around here?”
“Up toward Emma,” Andrew said, blinking as they passed from the bright sunshine into the shadowed barn. “I see you’re selling your farm, too.”
“Yep.” The man gave a satisfied grunt. “Told my woman it wasn’t worth coming up here to farm, but she wanted to be near her folks. That was twenty years ago. Wife finally up and died, so I’m heading back to Tennessee. I’d rather hardscrabble in the hills than here in this swampland.”
Andrew kept his thoughts to himself, but in twenty years, the man could have built this place into a fine farm. Swampland was very fertile once it was drained.
“Here’s the stock I have left.” Opening a gate in the back of the barn, the man gestured toward a draft horse. “You can put this rope on him and lead him out in the yard, if you want.”
As Andrew slid the frayed rope over the horse’s head, the beast looked at him sideways. “Is he gentle?”
“As a lamb. Well broke, too.”
“How old is he?” Andrew watched the horse’s gait as he led him toward the barn door.
“The man I got him from said he was seven years old when I bought him a while back. I’d say he’s probably a little over ten.”
In the sunlight, Andrew ran his hand along the horse’s side, feeling the ribs. The hooves needed trimming, and the coat was dull, but the horse was curious about him and pricked his ears forward as Andrew came around to his front again. At least the man was right about him being gentle. The horse let Andrew examine his teeth and run his hands down each leg. Andrew guessed he was over fifteen years, but the legs felt sound.
“How much do you want for him?”
The old man grinned a
nd started haggling. By the time Dave returned with a handful of machine parts, they had reached a price that Andrew thought was fair. He handed the man the last of the cash he had gotten from selling his stock back in Iowa.
After loading Dave’s purchase into the wagon and tying the horse to the back, they set off for home. Whatever breeze there had been in the morning had stilled and the sun beat down on them in shimmering waves. Grasshoppers buzzed among the dusty weeds along the road. It was so dry that the back of Andrew’s shirt was stiff from dried sweat.
“It looks like we’re in for a hot, dry summer. It reminds me of the last couple years in Iowa.”
Dave glanced his way. “You don’t think we could be in for the same kind of dust storms here, do you? The one that came through in May was pretty bad, and I wouldn’t want to repeat it.”
Andrew leaned on his knees. That big storm in May had started somewhere west of his farm in Iowa, chasing dry clouds and crackling lightning ahead of it, and had gone all the way to the east coast, carrying the dirt of the plains with it. It had been the day Lily died.
“We can’t.” He shook his head, clearing his throat of the dust he still felt sometimes. “It can’t get as bad here.”
A stray gust of wind kicked up a dust whirl in the road in front of them that disappeared as quickly as it had formed. Andrew closed his eyes and forced himself to remember Emma Lake, shimmering in the Sunday afternoon sun. The drought couldn’t get as bad here as it was in Iowa and farther west.
* * *
Bethany submerged the breakfast plates in the dishwater as she stared out the window. Thursday morning, two weeks to the day after her wedding, and she didn’t feel any more married than she had then. Or maybe she did. Maybe all married people were as miserable as she and Andrew seemed to be.
“Mamma Bethany, can I help?”
Turning to smile at Mari, Bethany helped her scoot her stool over to the sink. “For sure you can. You can be my little dishwasher.”
Bethany mentally shook herself. She wasn’t miserable. Not really. It was only that Andrew seemed to be distant, keeping himself away from the house as much as possible.
“Where is Mammi Rose?”
“She went to my daed’s house to cook dinner for the boys.”
Mari swirled the dishrag through the soapy water and across the plates the way Bethany had shown her. “They don’t have a mamm?”
“I used to take care of them, but now I’m here with you.”
“Will Mammi Rose be their mamm?”
Bethany almost laughed at that. “I don’t think so. That means she would marry my daed, and that isn’t going to happen.” She rinsed the plate Mari had washed, then picked up a towel to dry it. “But while she’s gone, you can help me with today’s work. We’re going to clean the upstairs bedrooms. You can use the dust mop and clean under the beds.”
Mari grinned at her. “I like the dust mop.” She rubbed the rag across the last plate. “Can Dinah help?”
“Cows don’t help with housework. They’re too big to come in the house.” She dried Mari’s hands and helped her down from the stool. “Dinah has her own job.”
“What is it?”
Bethany took the dishpan out to the garden and Mari followed her. “Dinah’s job is to eat grass and make milk for us. She works hard at her job every day.”
“I like Dinah.”
Mari stood back as Bethany flung the dishwater over the garden in an arc. She had planted the first seeds two days ago, but still looked for green shoots.
“It’s too early for the seeds to be sprouting.”
Bethany jumped at Andrew’s words. She hadn’t heard him coming up behind her.
“Daed!” Mari ran to him and he lifted her into his arms.
“What are you up to this morning?”
Bethany opened her mouth to answer, but then saw that Andrew was addressing Mari. He wasn’t interested in what she was doing.
“I’m going to use the dust mop.”
“Are you going to dust the garden?”
Andrew’s smile when he teased Mari reminded Bethany of the old days, when they had been young. She had borne the brunt of his teasing then. Mari laughed as Andrew tossed her into the air and caught her again. Bethany turned to walk back into the house so she wouldn’t intrude on Andrew’s time with Mari.
“Can I see the new horse?”
Bethany didn’t hear Andrew’s answer to his daughter’s question but hurried into the house. She had been wrong. Andrew wasn’t miserable when he was around Mari, but he was when he was in the house with her. Sighing, Bethany grabbed the cleaning supplies and headed for the stairs. She would tackle the dirt and hope that made her feel better.
Dropping onto the step halfway up, Bethany leaned against the wall. Work wouldn’t help. Talking to Andrew was impossible, and she couldn’t confide in Daed. She needed a woman to talk to. Someone who would understand, and definitely not Rose.
Elisabeth Stoltzfus. Bethany smiled at the thought of the minister’s wife, who had been Mamm’s good friend. Elisabeth would be the perfect one to talk to. She would use Andrew’s spring wagon or borrow Daed’s buggy and drive over as soon as she finished cleaning.
As she continued up the steps, Mari came running to join her.
“Don’t forget,” she said, taking the steep steps one at a time, “I get to use the dust mop.”
“I haven’t forgotten. Which room do you want to do first?”
“My room. It’s dirty under my bed.”
As Bethany hurried through the Thursday morning chore, she told herself she could make up for it next week. She wanted to get to Elisabeth’s and return before dinnertime. It wasn’t long before she had hitched Whiskers to the spring wagon and was on her way, with Mari sitting on the seat beside her.
“Where are we going?”
“To visit my friend Elisabeth.”
“Does she have girls?”
“She has big girls. Rebecca and Mandy. Do you remember them? They played with you at church on our last meeting day.” Lovina’s seven-and nine-year-old sisters were always happy to play with the little ones and keep them occupied during the fellowship meal.
Mari nodded and stuck her thumb in her mouth as Whiskers walked along. A buggy horse would trot briskly, but Whiskers was too heavy for more than his normal plod. She hoped Andrew would be able to buy a buggy horse soon.
When they reached the Stoltzfus farm, Mandy and Rebecca came running from the backyard to greet them.
“Can Mari play? We have baby rabbits.”
Bethany smiled at the girls. “For sure, she can. Just help her be careful to she doesn’t squeeze the bunnies.”
She followed the girls to the backyard, where Elisabeth sat in a shady spot, paring off the tops of strawberries into a pan.
“If you have another knife, I’ll help.” Bethany sat on the bench next to Elisabeth.
“Mandy was helping for a little while. You can use her knife.” Elisabeth gave her a warm smile. “I’m glad you came over. What brings you by?”
Bethany used the point of the knife to take off the top of the first strawberry, sliced it and let it drop onto the bowl Elisabeth had already filled more than halfway. “I just want to visit, I guess.”
“How are things for the newlyweds?”
Picking up the next strawberry, Bethany shrugged. “I thought things would be different.”
Elisabeth took off the tops of two strawberries before she answered. “You and Andrew have difficulties to overcome.”
“I can’t seem to make him happy.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I know he has to work hard, but it seems like he avoids coming into the house unless he has to.” Bethany sliced her strawberry and reached for the next one. “And every time we talk, we seem to end up in an argument.”
&nb
sp; “It sounds like you aren’t very happy, either.”
“I don’t want to complain.”
“You don’t have to say you’re unhappy for me to tell.”
Mari came running over to Bethany, a young rabbit in her arms. “Mamma Bethany, look. It’s a bunny.”
The rabbit struggled in Mari’s arms. Bethany repositioned the little girl’s hands so that she was holding the rabbit’s hind feet. “If you support his feet, then he feels safe and he won’t wiggle.”
Mari smiled, then walked back to the rabbit pen on the other side of the backyard.
“It’s easy for a man to feel like he’s failed. And when he doesn’t feel like he has support, he struggles, just like that rabbit.” Elisabeth’s voice was quiet. “Andrew has lost his first wife and left his farm in Iowa. He’s come home and has had to start over again.”
Bethany nodded. “He works hard.”
“But?”
“He never smiles at me.”
“He has a lot of responsibilities. You, Mari, Rose, the farm...”
Bethany dropped more strawberry slices in the bowl. “That’s part of the problem. Rose is still here. She refuses to go home.”
“I overheard Andrew tell John that Rose didn’t have much to go back to in Iowa. The last letter from Martha said that no one can raise crops or even a garden this year because it is too dry and dusty.”
She stared at Elisabeth. Andrew had gotten a letter from his mother?
“He never told me that.”
“Maybe he didn’t want to burden you.” The older woman cut off the top the last berry in her pan. “Would it make a difference if you had known Rose’s situation?”
“I’m not sure.”
“You and Andrew need to learn how to work as a team. In a good marriage, the husband and wife work together toward the same goals, and each one is equally important.”
“Like a team of horses?”
Elisabeth laughed. “I’m not sure I want to compare myself to a horse, but they have to learn to work together, just like we do.”
Bethany thought of the new horse Andrew had brought home to be a teammate for Whiskers. It had been three days, but the horses still weren’t getting along well.
