* * *
During supper that evening, Seth had noticed Ira still seemed out of sorts. He was pretty sure it had to be about Martha. When he’d asked Ira to go for a swim after lunch, he’d barely acknowledged him and said he was busy, then left shortly after they’d finished eating. Seth had thought about that and their odd conversation earlier. Martha had said several of the single guys in Birch Creek were after her. Ira hadn’t come to mind at the time, but now it was obvious. His brother liked her.
“Do you want more blackberry cobbler, Ira?” Mamm asked, holding up a square casserole dish. She plunged a large spoon into the still-warm dessert.
Ira shook his head and pushed away his dessert plate.
“Are you feeling okay?” Mamm plopped the full scoop back into the casserole dish.
“I’m fine.” He moved back from the table and glared at Seth. “Just fine.” He got up from the table and left the kitchen.
“What was all that about?” Mamm said. She set the cobbler on the table. Judah immediately reached for it, having polished off his first serving.
Seth shrugged but didn’t look at her. His mother was perceptive, and she would know whether Seth was telling the truth. He started to get up from the table, fully intending to find Ira and reassure him that he was free to pursue Martha all he wanted. Then he stopped himself. Martha didn’t want to be pursued. And for some bizarre reason, the idea of his brother and Martha together suddenly bothered him. That didn’t make sense. Ira was a great guy, a good catch for any woman. And Martha was . . . Well, she was Martha.
“Seth.”
He turned to see Daed looking at him. His father had been quiet during the meal, too, but that wasn’t unusual. While he was getting wordier during his sermons, he was a man of few words at home. “Ya, Daed?”
“Come outside with me.” His father stood.
Seth glanced at his mother. This time it was her turn to shrug. Whatever Daed needed to talk to him about, she wasn’t in the know. “Okay.” He followed his father through the back door.
Daed walked past the barn and toward the huge pasture to the back field of their property, a small plot of land he’d acquired three months ago. In a few short years he’d managed to turn this place from a dying farm to an extremely prosperous one, without the benefit of the rich gas deposits abundant in this area. Several of the families had sold their rights to the natural gas on their property to a utility company, but their land had been one of the few that didn’t have any gas underground. Still, he had managed to turn everything around financially.
His father had never taken credit for his success, though. He’d simply thanked God for every blessing they had. “Been around long enough to know it might not last forever,” he’d said more than once. “In a blink of an eye everything could be gone.”
Seth thought about that as he walked a few steps behind his father. The idea that farming was so precarious didn’t sit well with him. It was dependent on so many factors outside a farmer’s control—the weather, the soil, the seed, the wildlife. It was an unpredictable way to live, and it had always made Seth a little uncomfortable. He wanted security and consistency, something he hoped woodcarving would give him once he was good enough to create items for sale.
Daed stopped at the end of the property. He faced the sunset, and Seth went to stand next to him. The sky was streaked with golden clouds that once again didn’t hold a drop of rain. “Nice night,” Daed said.
A nice night would be full of rain. He looked at the leaves on the surrounding trees. A smattering of them had turned brown at the edges, except for the oak trees, which could stand the drier conditions better. Their crops were starting to struggle, even with the water he and his brothers and father had been giving them. But nothing was better for plants than a good soaking, which they hadn’t had in nearly three weeks. His daed didn’t seem worried about that, at least not enough to mention it. “Nice night it is,” Seth said. There was no need to disagree with his father over that.
Seth put his hands in his pockets and waited while his father gazed into the distance. He could tell Daed was gathering his thoughts, which made Seth a little nervous, but he stayed silent. Whatever his father needed to tell him, he would do so in his own time.
After a few minutes, Daed said, “I’ve been thinking a lot about the future.”
Me too. But not in the way his father would ever suspect. Seth nodded.
“I’ve been thinking about this farm, about yer schwesters and bruders.” He turned to him. “About you.”
Seth tugged at a loose thread inside his right pants pocket. “Is everything all right? You’re not sick, are you?”
Daed’s lips lifted in a half smile. “Nee, thanks be to God. I’m not. But I’m not a spring chicken either.”
“You’re fifty-six. That’s not exactly an old buzzard.”
“An old buzzard,” Daed repeated, nodding. “I like that.” He turned and faced the sunset again. “Won’t be long before I’ll be one.”
“What are you driving at, Daed?” Seth didn’t like beating around the bush. He was a direct man, and he expected others to be just as forthcoming. He also didn’t like his growing suspicion that something was wrong.
He faced Seth. “I’m not sick. But I’ve been having some trouble with mei vision. Mei left eye has started to hurt some too. I haven’t told yer mother yet. I wanted to geh to the doctor to find out what’s happening before I say anything to her.”
Seth’s fingers stilled. “Did you geh?”
“Ya. He said I have glaucoma. Then he threw around some scientific words I’d never heard of and had nee idea what they meant. But when he bottom-lined everything, he said there’s a possibility I could geh blind.”
Seth’s knees nearly buckled. His father, blind? How could he be so calm about that? “We’ll pray that won’t happen,” he said firmly.
“Of course we will.” He smiled, this one full and genuine. “But if it’s God’s will, I’ll accept it. I can also use some medicine and eyedrops that will help slow or possibly stop the growing pressure in mei eyes. There’s nee need to get bent out of shape right now. I can still see plenty well.” He gave Seth a direct look. “If there’s one thing I won’t do, though, it’s borrow trouble. I’m not worried, sohn. You shouldn’t be either. God is in control of everything, including mei eyes. Knowing that gives me peace about this.”
That explained his father’s composure. Seth breathed out a sigh of relief. If his father wasn’t panicked, Seth would follow his lead.
“I’m going to tell yer mudder tonight. But I’m holding off on telling Ira and Judah. Ira will jump to the worst-case scenario, and that’s not what I need. Judah’s a little too yung to have this burden to carry, especially when everything is fine right now. And yer schwesters are happy with their familyes. No need to upend everything.” He clapped Seth on the shoulder. “Looks like you’re the lucky one to be the first to know.”
He didn’t feel lucky. He felt honored that his father was sharing his burden with him. “I won’t say anything to anyone. I promise.”
“I know you won’t.” He squeezed Seth’s shoulder, then let go. “I have something else to ask of you. I need to transition management of the farm over to you, in case the drops and medicine don’t work and this glaucoma thing progresses quickly. Again, I don’t anticipate that happening, but it’s always prudent to plan. I don’t want to leave you and yer bruders in a lurch.”
Seth froze. The possibility of overseeing the farm had always been there, but he never thought it would be this soon. Or at all, if he could have entered a different vocation before his father retired. But that was far back in his mind now that he knew about his father’s eye disease. “What do you need me to do?”
“I need to teach you everything I know. I’ve taught you buwe a lot of things, but you can learn more, especially from the business side. Buying livestock, knowing when it’s time to expand the farm again—if it’s God’s will—figuring out if a purchase is
a gut deal . . . those kinds of things, along with a few Amish secrets mei familye has used over generations of farming. It’s a lot, Seth, and it will mean spending more time here, with me. You’re yung, and I know you need time to yerself and time to be with yer friends. I’m sorry I’ll be intruding on that.”
Seth shook his head. “Nee worries, Daed, remember? I’m here for you. Whatever you need, I’ll make sure you have it.” For the first time he considered telling him about his woodshop. Considering what was going on, it seemed selfish to have a secret from his father. But Seth couldn’t bring himself to do it, not only because he still wanted to keep that part of his life to himself until he was skilled enough to make his carvings public but because it was selfish to talk about his dreams when his father was facing possible blindness. Other than meeting with Martha on Tuesday, woodcarving would have to take a backseat.
“I figured we’d start next week,” Daed said. “That will give me some time to plan out what I need to teach you.” He shook his head. “Until I started preaching, I never realized how important it was to have an outline and a plan. Now I don’t know what to do without one.”
Seth nodded, a lump forming in his throat as he thought about the many nights his father spent at the kitchen table studying his Bible, making notes, and praying over his sermons. How would he do that if he lost his eyesight? How would he preach? Take care of the community? His family?
Seth clenched his fists. God wouldn’t allow his father to lose his sight. Daed had been divinely chosen to become the bishop, a job he hadn’t wanted but had fully embraced. Truth be told, Seth didn’t much care for being the bishop’s son. He’d never been a troublemaker, but when he was younger, he did think twice about doing anything that might reflect badly on the family. People in the community held his father in high esteem, and they weren’t shy about saying it. No, it didn’t make sense to him that Daed would go blind a few years after getting the most important position in the community. That’s not going to happen. His father would keep his sight, and Seth would keep his promise to learn every detail about the farm and farming so Daed could feel at ease.
“I’m glad I can depend on you, Seth,” Daed said.
Seth studied his father’s eyes. They were gray-blue, with deep wrinkles around them from spending so much time in the sun, even with a hat. Seth couldn’t tell anything was wrong with Daed’s eyes just by looking at them. They seemed the same as they always had, his look strong and firm. Like the man himself. But he had a disease, one that could eventually take his eyesight. Seth found that unacceptable.
Chapter 7
By late afternoon on Tuesday, Martha had spent the entire day restlessly watching the clock. The shop didn’t have many customers, and it had taken her less than half an hour to clean the shop, which she kept almost flawless anyway. She’d brought the binocular book with her and tried to study it, but she couldn’t focus. All she could think about was getting the chance to carve wood again. That, and Seth coming over for supper tonight. While she was eager to do the first thing, she wasn’t looking forward to the second.
She put her elbow on the counter and leaned her chin on the heel of her hand. Mamm had given her a suspicious look when she explained that Seth was coming over for dinner, and Martha didn’t blame her for being perplexed.
“I thought you were avoiding all the yung men,” Mamm had said. She’d been in the middle of putting together a picture puzzle on the coffee table in the living room. She’d picked up three of them in Barton two weeks ago when she went exploring yard sales with Naomi Beiler and Mary Yoder. She planned to glue the puzzle to the back of a piece of cardboard when she finished it, making a nice picture for the wall.
“I am avoiding them.” Martha had sat down, her attention drawn to the puzzle. It was a picture of a serene-looking lake, according to the cover. Her mother had just started on it, so very few pieces were connected.
“But you’ve invited Seth over for supper tomorrow night,” Mamm said.
“Ya.” Martha picked up a piece and placed it next to part of the finished puzzle. She turned it a quarter way and the piece fit perfectly.
“I’m confused.” Mamm looked up, a puzzle piece in her hand. “Why aren’t you avoiding Seth?”
She couldn’t tell her the real reason, so she said the first thing that came to mind. “Because he’s the only mann who’s avoiding me.”
“Ah.” Mamm frowned. “I still don’t understand.”
Martha chuckled. “I don’t either.”
Mamm sat back in her chair. “Is everything all right? I’ve been concerned about you after what happened between you and Paul last fall.”
She picked up another piece and searched for its home. “I’m okay,” she said, trying not to wince at the sound of his name.
“I’d like to give that bu a piece of mei mind.” Mamm scowled. “He had nee right to treat you that way.”
“I hurt him.” Martha set the piece down and looked at her. “He was just telling me how he felt.”
“He took his pain out on you.” Mamm shook her head. “You two weren’t right for each other from the beginning. He’s hot tempered and has a lot of growing up to do.”
“He’s twenty-six—”
“And acts like he’s two sometimes.” She sighed and leaned forward. “I didn’t know he was going to be at Hannah’s wedding. I’d heard he moved to another community shortly after we settled here. If I had known he was still there, I wouldn’t have asked you to geh with me.”
Now Martha moved away from the counter and picked up the broom, sweeping the spotless shop floor with sharp strokes. She’d ended the conversation with her mother at that point. She didn’t want to discuss Paul with her. She’d never told anyone everything he’d said to her when she’d ended their relationship. But when he’d torn her heart to pieces with his words—You ruined mei life!—she couldn’t hide the tears from Mamm that night after the wedding. She’d given her mother a truncated version of the truth, saying that Paul had spoken to her privately after the reception and that he was still angry with her. Mamm had never liked Paul anyway, and her explanation had been enough to cement her mother’s bad opinion about him. However, Martha couldn’t forget what he’d said.
She stopped sweeping, feeling a little stupid for cleaning an already-clean floor. She shoved Paul out of her mind and thought about a better topic—woodcarving. Supper would be awkward tonight—there was no getting around that considering the circumstances that brought it about—but once Seth started teaching her how to carve, everything would be fine. She even planned to go to the library this Saturday and look up designs she could attempt when she’d developed more skill. Eventually she’d like to purchase her own set of tools, and her daed’s barn had plenty of room for her to set up a workstation.
Yes, she was putting the cart before the horse, but she couldn’t help herself. She hadn’t been this excited about learning something new since her father taught her how to train a horse when she was nine years old. It hadn’t taken long before she was riding on the back of the horse standing up, having gained the animal’s complete trust. She hoped learning woodcarving would be as easy.
She had just put away the broom when the bell rang over the door. Nina Stoll walked in, which was a surprise. Martha had just seen Levi yesterday. “Hi, Nina,” she said, moving from behind the counter. “May I help you with something?”
“Nee, just looking.” Nina sauntered around the store and studied the displays of simple clocks, watches, and magnifying glasses. Her face was red and sweaty, and a damp ring of perspiration sat around the collar of her dress. Had she been walking in this heat? Martha supposed she had. She didn’t see a buggy outside. When Nina got to the locked case of binoculars, she stopped.
“Would you like to see any of these?” Martha asked.
Nina sighed. “Nee. Like I said, I’m just looking . . .” She turned to Martha. “Actually, that’s not true. I’m escaping for a little while.”
“Escaping
what?”
“Everything.” She sighed again.
Martha looked at her for a moment. She also had shadows under her eyes and a splatter of white paint on her lavender dress below the right shoulder. She glanced at Nina’s black leather shoes, which were also dotted with paint. Her thick brows were knitted together, and her square shoulders were slightly slumped. She looked tired and somber.
“Would you like something to drink? I’ve got some pop and bottled water in the cooler. They’re necessary for days like this.”
“Water would be nice,” Nina said, smiling a little. “It is hot outside.”
Martha went behind the counter and opened the cooler chest on the floor. She pulled out two bottles of water and shut the lid. “It’s not so bad under the tree. We can sit there for a bit, if you have time.”
“I don’t want to keep you from yer customers.”
“What customers?” Martha came out from behind the counter and offered Nina her drink. “We’ve been slower than a river of molasses today. If anyone shows up, I can see them from out there. And so far Onkel Hezekiah has managed without a business phone, so I don’t have to worry about anyone calling.”
Nina took the water, her face brightening. “Then I’d love to.”
They went outside, and Martha sat down on one side of the picnic table under the tree. As soon as she did, Martha regretted the idea. It had grown hotter throughout the day, and because she’d been inside since morning, she hadn’t realized that. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much of a breeze either. “Usually it’s cooler,” she said, frowning. Droplets of condensed water dripped down the side of her bottle, although they hadn’t been outside more than five minutes.
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