Huckleberry Spring

by Jennifer Beckstrand

  Lizzie rolled her eyes. “Mahlon won’t dare start an argument with all these people around. I always win. He doesn’t want to be humiliated in front of his friends.”

  The Yutzys had set up a volleyball net in their backyard and a game was in full swing. Ben’s gaze traveled around die youngie milling near the snack table. John Shirk lugged a five-gallon jug across the lawn toward the table. Might as well start with him.

  He turned to Lizzie. “Bye. I’ve got people I need to see.”

  Lizzie raised her brows. “Ooh. People. It sounds so mysterious.”

  He gifted her with an unamused smile and walked away.

  Meeting John halfway across the yard, he said, “Can I help?”

  John nodded, set down the jug, and let Ben grab one of the handles. They lifted together and hefted the jug onto the table next to the paper cups.

  For a split second, Ben reconsidered his choice. John Shirk was a fine young man, stocky and solid, who had a gute job at the sawmill and wasn’t afraid of hard work. Emma would never go hungry if she were married to John. He’d take good care of her.

  But John wasn’t all that quick on his feet. Would he be able to rush in and save Emma from a speeding train or a runaway horse? And how could he hope to tend to Emma’s cuts and scrapes with those thick fingers of his?

  He studied John out of the corner of his eye while he filled a few cups with lemonade. John wasn’t nearly good enough for Emma, but what choice did Ben have? He had to find someone, and John was one of Ben’s top three prospects. He’d have to make do.

  He handed John a cup of lemonade. “How have you been, John?”

  John took a gulp of lemonade. “I thought you weren’t coming back. At least that’s what Mahlon said.”

  “I’m here just long enough to help my dawdi while he has surgery.”

  “It’s gute to see you for whatever reason,” John said.

  “So, what have you been up to? Do you have a girlfriend yet?”

  “Nae. I thought Elizabeth Zimmerman and I might get along all right, but she wasn’t interested.”

  Ben shook his head. “Her loss.”

  “But I did buy that hunting rifle I’ve had my eye on.”

  How would John be able to keep Emma safe when he went hunting? Maybe he could take her hunting with him. Ben ground his teeth together and tried not to imagine what could happen if Emma and a gun ever came within several hundred feet of each other.

  “Have you been out to shoot it yet?”

  “I used it all winter. Tagged myself a big buck.”

  “Congratulations.” He rested a hand on John’s shoulder and hesitated only for a moment. Did he really want to see Emma with someone else? He took a breath and let the pain wash over and through him. More than anything, he wanted to see Emma happy. “Talking about girlfriends—”

  “Were we talking about girlfriends?”

  “Have you ever considered taking Emma Nelson home from a gathering?”

  John swallowed down the wrong throat and began coughing violently. Ben pounded him on the back. “Emma Nelson?” John said.

  “Jah. She’s pretty. I bet she’d be delighted.”

  John furrowed his brow. “I could never take Emma out, Ben. Her candle is still burning for you. I’d rather not waste my time on another man’s farm.”

  “It’s been almost nine months, John. She’s ready to move on. Ready to find someone who can make her truly happy.”

  “Are you sure?” John asked.

  “I moved to Florida. We both know it’s over.”

  John lifted his eyebrows. “She’s real pretty. After you left she acted like she was okay with it, but I didn’t really believe it. She’d lost that light in her eyes, you know, like she was still hoping for you to come back. I would have tried before now, but she doesn’t seem interested in anybody.”

  “It’s over between us. Everybody knows that.”

  John regarded Ben with a suspicious eye. “Why are you so eager to match me up with Emma?”

  “I want her to be happy.” He pushed the words out of his mouth. “And you’re a gute man.”

  John tilted his head and drained his lemonade cup. “I’ll think on it. Emma is a wonderful-gute girl, even though she attracts accidents like honey attracts bees. I’ll have to secure my buggy,” he said, laughing at his own cleverness.

  Maybe John wasn’t such a gute idea. Ben didn’t like it when people made fun of Emma. But it was too late now. The seed had been planted. He’d just have to wait and see if it germinated.

  He shook hands with John and stalked off to seek his next target. Adam Wengerd played volleyball with a gaggle of young females who spent more time looking at him than they did at the ball.

  Adam was sufficiently tall, with dark brown hair and tawny eyes that the girls found dreamy—at least according to Lizzie. Adam taught school, so he would be out of a job if he married Emma. That was one strike against him. Emma’s husband had to have a steady job or a good farm to support his family. Ben would not have Emma living in a hovel. But Adam was quite charming with the girls. He’d keep Emma mesmerized with his light brown eyes and straight, white teeth. Ben didn’t like him already.

  He was perfect.

  Ben charged right into the volleyball game, hit a ball that came his way, and stood next to Adam in the front row. The little girl to his left who looked as if she’d turned sixteen yesterday glared at him for taking her place beside the man of her dreams. “Adam,” Ben said, ignoring the girl shooting darts at him with her eyes, “I need your help with something. Can we talk?”

  Adam jumped high in the air and blocked a volley coming from the other side. “Sure. Anything for you, Ben.”

  He winked at the little girl next to him, which catapulted her into a fit of giggles. “Edna, you’ll have to cover the front line for me. Do your best, and I’ll be right back.”

  Adam led Ben to the shade of a large oak standing watch over the backyard. “Is something wrong? How can I help?”

  “This is going to sound out of the blue, but have you ever thought about dating Emma Nelson?”

  “Thought about it? I’ve almost asked her to ride home with me twice. But I don’t think she’d say yes. How can any boy compete with the memory of Ben Helmuth?”

  Ben looked at the ground and shook his head. “I want you to take her on a date or something.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m going back to Florida. She needs to find somebody else.”

  Adam rubbed his jaw, considering Ben’s proposal. “I don’t like being any girl’s second choice.”

  “I was the wrong choice. Emma sees that now. Don’t you think she’s worth a try?”

  Adam’s face brightened. “She’s definitely worth a try. If you want me to ask her out, I’ll ask her out. My dawdi wouldn’t have that new roof over his head if it weren’t for you.”

  “Forget about that. I’m glad I could help.”

  Adam glanced behind him. “I’ve got to get back to the game, but I’ll be sure to do something about Emma. It would be really fun.”

  Ben thumbed his suspenders and surveyed the crowd once again. So far, his plan was working out better than expected. Now he just had to have a visit with Freeman Kiem.

  He furrowed his brow and hoped that assigning three boys at the same time wasn’t a mistake, but he wanted to give Emma plenty to choose from. They couldn’t all court her simultaneously, but maybe three at once would give her a chance to quickly cull out the choices and find the one she wanted to marry come autumn.

  Pain twisted in his gut, like it did every time he thought of giving Emma up to some other boy. The fact that it had to be done didn’t make it any less painful, and it certainly didn’t make him feel any better. In fact, he felt more miserable than he had for months.

  He had to get out of Bonduel.

  As soon as Dawdi got his plantar warts frozen off, he would go home.

  Lizzie and Emma stood by the lemonade. Emma sported an oversized gauze p
ad on her forehead that covered half of her eyebrow. Ben supposed people were probably used to seeing her like that, with some sort of bandage or cast at gatherings.

  Although it had been difficult, he had insisted on taking Emma for stitches himself. He could have sent Mammi or Dawdi, but he wanted to make sure that she was properly cared for. It had always been that way. He felt so protective of her that no treatment or care seemed good enough unless he saw to it personally.

  The doctor had given her three stitches, which didn’t seem like near enough, but he insisted that Emma would be good as new, except for a new scar that would give her a good story to tell.

  The accident with the watering can happened almost a week ago. She would be able to take off the bandage soon. The corner of Ben’s mouth curled involuntarily. It was so cute the way the gauze pad draped over her eyebrow like a pirate’s eye patch.

  Lizzie acted as if she were planning some secret spy operation, whispering instruction in Emma’s ear and keeping her eyes darting from one person to another. In between sips of lemonade, Emma shook her head and seemed to be resisting whatever Lizzie was planning. She glanced Ben’s way once but quickly averted her gaze. He quickly averted his.

  He saw Freeman Kiem huddled in a cluster of other boys, acting as if he were trying to work up the courage to talk to one of the many girls who also seemed to congregate in packs at these gatherings.

  Ben marched across the lawn once again. He’d talk Freeman into dating his ex-fiancée, then get out of here. Lizzie could find some nice young man to drive her home.

  “Freeman,” Ben said. He stopped short as Freeman turned, and he caught sight of Mahlon Nelson standing in the midst of Freeman’s pack.

  Too late to retreat. Mahlon had already seen him. Mahlon’s expression didn’t change, but Ben could see the muscles of his jaw tighten ever so slightly. “Hello, Mahlon. Hello, Joshua.” His mouth felt as if it were filled with sawdust. “Have you tried the lemonade? It’s wonderful gute.”

  He hoped that wasn’t a bald-faced lie. He hadn’t actually tried the lemonade, but lemonade was a safe and nonthreatening topic of conversation. What would Mahlon think if he knew that Ben was collecting boys for Emma to date? He’d probably be glad. He certainly wanted Emma to find someone worthy of her as much as Ben did. At this point, Mahlon felt so mad at Ben, he wouldn’t approve of Ben and Emma getting back together even if they wanted to.

  “How long are you going to be in town, Ben?” Joshua asked. “We heard your dawdi is feeling poorly.”

  “He’s getting surgery on his feet next week. Once he’s recovered, I’ll be going back. Maybe three or four weeks.”

  Freeman put a hand on his shoulder. “We’ve missed you. No one can wield a hammer like Ben Helmuth.”

  “Jah,” said Davy Burkholder. “I never thought anyone could rebuild a chicken coop so fast.”

  Everyone in their little circle laughed except for Mahlon and Ben. The whole community knew of Emma’s penchant for accidentally destroying small structures. They always talked of her mishaps with affection instead of scorn. But the chicken coop was another painful memory of what Ben had lost. If he judged the look on Mahlon’s face correctly, Mahlon’s thoughts turned in the same direction.

  Joshua slid his hands into his pockets. “Emma tells me she’s gonna grow a giant pumpkin for Anna Helmuth. That was quite a sight last year.”

  Never one to hold his tongue, especially in defense of his sister, Mahlon snapped, “Your mammi can grow her own pumpkins.”

  Joshua, Freeman, and the other boys stared at him in dismay, probably wondering why he cared about pumpkins and if he would throw a fit about them.

  “She’s really grateful for the help,” Ben said, in his soft voice that usually placated even the most hostile of foes.

  “Did you put your mammi up to it? Are you regretting breaking up with Emma, or don’t you care about her feelings at all?”

  Ben would be trapped no matter how he answered that question. He smiled weakly and made his posture as humble as possible. “She’s doing a gute job. The plant has spread out on the mound almost four feet. She’s got a real talent for it.”

  “You broke it off with Emma?” Joshua asked. “I thought she broke up with you.”

  “That’s what he wanted everybody to think,” Mahlon said. “So he wouldn’t look like the bad one.”

  Ben wanted to crawl into a little hole. He’d really made a mess of things. Leave it to Mahlon to point out one of his many flaws. “I thought everybody knew that I broke it off.”

  “I did,” Davy said. “It was pretty obvious the way Emma acted.”

  “I never wanted to hurt anybody, especially not her,” Ben said. But he hadn’t gotten what he wanted. He’d hurt Emma and, no doubt, her entire family. Not to mention his own family.

  “So now you won’t even say Emma’s name out loud.”

  The boys standing in Mahlon’s little circle slowly began to find other places to be. They tiptoed away from the simmering confrontation and toward the volleyball game or the lemonade table.

  Mahlon and Ben were left standing alone. “Mahlon, I know how angry you are.”

  “Do you?”

  “Can you forgive me for how this has hurt your sister?”

  Mahlon tilted his head back. “I can see you are so concerned about my sister. That’s why you led her on for months, got engaged to her, and then dumped her. She trusted you. How hard do you think it will be for her to trust anyone ever again?”

  “I hope she can get past it—”

  Mahlon threw up his hands. “Well, me too. At least there’s one thing we can agree on. But you’re sure making it hard for her, aren’t you? Does your dawdi really have plantar warts, or is that a rumor started by your family? It wonders me why you want Emma growing pumpkins on Huckleberry Hill. So you can gloat about breaking up with her?”

  “No, of course not. I just want Emma to be happy.” If only Mahlon knew how many nights he had spent pleading with God for Emma’s happiness, maybe he wouldn’t be so quick to judge.

  A whirlwind flew past Ben and pushed Mahlon back about three feet. It took Ben a split second to realize the whirlwind was Lizzie. She shoved her index finger into Mahlon’s chest and propped her other hand on her hip. “What do you think you are doing, Mailman?”

  To Ben’s surprise, Mahlon shrugged and grinned weakly at Lizzie. “I’m picking on your brother,” he said.

  Lizzie poked him again. “Well, stop it. You’re making a pest of yourself.”

  Mahlon folded his arms across his chest. “You’re the pest, Lizzie Tizzy. I don’t go around poking people.”

  Lizzie only poked him harder. “I don’t go around attacking people.”

  Ben wasn’t quite sure what to make of this exchange. Did Lizzie and Mahlon like irritating each other?

  Emma came from behind him and joined Lizzie, and they stood between Mahlon and Ben as if they thought Ben needed protection—the pirate girl and the kid sister. Ben found the sight of two girls staring down big, arms-like-trees Mahlon Nelson quite amusing. Lizzie had no trouble beating anyone into submission with her glare, but Emma had always been so timid. It was nice to see her stand up for herself. Or rather, see her stand up for him.

  He swallowed hard at the lump forming in his throat.

  Lizzie pulled her finger from Mahlon’s chest. “Don’t you remember we have a strategy, Mahlon? This is not it.”

  “We do not have a strategy,” Emma said.

  Ben had no idea what they were talking about. He took Lizzie’s hand and pulled her backward. “We were just talking.”

  “Sure,” said Lizzie. “I could hear Mahlon ‘just talking’ from a hundred feet away. In fact, everyone at the gathering could hear Mahlon just talking. He’s making a fool of himself.”

  Ben glanced at Mahlon and then settled his gaze on Emma while trying to ignore her bright eyes. “It’s okay. Mahlon hasn’t said anything to me that I don’t deserve.”

  Mahlon narrowed
his eyes and studied Ben’s face as if to ascertain whether he was sincere. He nodded and nudged Emma with his elbow. “See? Don’t get huffy.”

  Emma lowered her eyes while a sad smile played at her lips. “Of course Ben would say that. He’s so kind, he would gladly take the blame for all your sins.”

  Mahlon grunted his disapproval. “Why are you accusing me? I haven’t done anything wrong.”

  “You’re being a bully,” Lizzie chimed in.

  Mahlon glanced at Ben with grudging respect. “A bully? He’s taller than I am and stronger.”

  “But he won’t fight back,” Lizzie said. “If you want to pick on somebody, pick on me. I always fight back.”

  “Jah,” Mahlon said, in mock indignation. “I’ve noticed.”

  “And I always win.” Lizzie flashed a sparkly smile that seemed to leave Mahlon speechless. She turned her back and strolled away from all of them.

  Mahlon recovered himself enough to think of a reply. “You wish you always won,” he insisted loudly as he seemed to forget about his sister and Ben and chased after Lizzie.

  Emma fingered the bandage at her forehead. “I’m sorry about Mahlon. He doesn’t mean to offend you.”

  “No offense taken.”

  “He’s a very protective brother.”

  Emma inspired that protective instinct in more than one person.

  Ben swiped his hand across his eyes. With Emma, he had to learn to suppress those urges. He would never be able to look after her the way she needed to be looked after.

  “Anna says Felty’s getting his warts out next week.”

  Ben nodded.

  “That will be about the time to pollinate and seal the pumpkin buds.”

  His hand caressed her cheek before he could stop it. “Are you making sure to apply the ointment to the doctor gave you and checking for infection?” So much for suppressing his protective instincts. “I don’t want to them to have to amputate.”

  Her lips curled in spite of the uncertainty in her eyes. “I’ve never heard of an eyebrow amputation.”

  “There’s a first time for everything,” Ben said.