Home to Paradise

by Cameron, Barbara;

  “Not at all.” She followed Leah to the counter to pay for her fabric, but when she got out her wallet the older woman refused her money.

  “It’s on the shop since you’re helping us out.”

  They had a good-spirited tug of war over that and finally compromised on Rose Anna paying for half of the fabric.

  Rose Anna slipped into the back room and called her mudder to let her know she’d be home later than she’d expected. The call went to the answering machine in the phone shanty, so she left a message. When she came out of the back room, she saw that several women had arrived and were getting their projects out of tote bags and serving themselves coffee.

  These women were strangers to her, but they had one thing in common: quilting. It was Rose Anna’s vocation and avocation, a joy and sometimes a pain when she had to rush to fill an order. A quilt was a labor of love whether for someone she knew or someone she didn’t. A comfort above all. Sewing one took imagination, creativity, and hours and hours of work.

  As the women spread their work out before them, she saw apprehension, doubt, frowns, and sometimes smiles. And as they looked up at her as she approached the table, introduced herself, and said she’d be helping with the class, she saw a real eagerness to learn that warmed her heart.

  Quilting had already become something they aspired to do, wanted to do better, and were investing their time and money in.

  They were Englisch, young and old and obviously from different backgrounds. She could see from a quick glance that they were at many different levels of skill.

  But today, for one hour, they were sisters enjoying an activity that had been born as much from a woman’s natural need to be creative as well as one to provide warmth and decoration for her home.

  When the class was over, she pulled on her coat and gathered up her purse and the shopping bag of new fabric. Leah and Naomi thanked her. She shook her head and told them that it had been fun and thanks wasn’t necessary and meant it.

  She paused at the door and looked back. She’d come here as a kind to find fabric to make her first quilt, and now she stood here as a woman to help others discover what she’d come to love doing for a living. God had had a plan for her, had set her on this path, and she realized that she had never thanked Him enough for it. Sending up a silent prayer of thanks, she started for home and a few hours enjoying sewing her own quilt.

  7

  Rose Anna found her dat sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee when she went downstairs early the next morning.

  He blinked in surprise as she walked into the room. “You’re up early. Very early.”

  She yawned, got a mug, and poured herself coffee. “I spent extra time in town yesterday, so I need to catch up on my work.” She frowned. “Where’s Mamm?”

  “She has a cold coming on. I told her to stay in bed.”

  “And she listened? She really must not be feeling gut. I’ll go up and check on her in a minute.” She looked at the gas stove. “So no breakfast?”

  “I’ll cook you something if you want.”

  “Daed! I meant you haven’t had any breakfast yet. I don’t expect my parents to make me breakfast at my age.”

  He grinned. “I know. I’ll get something after I’m finished with my chores.”

  “You’ll have something now.” She rose. “What would you like?”

  He shrugged. “Cereal’s fine.”

  “Daed!”

  “Well, maybe some burned toast.”

  “I haven’t done that in ages. I’m a gut cook. You love my fried chicken,” she reminded him.

  Chuckling, he rose and hugged her. “I’m just teasing you. Some eggs will be fine. However you want to cook them.”

  Rose Anna poked around in the refrigerator. “There’s some ham left from supper last night. I’ll fry it and make you some scrambled eggs. Oh, there’s some leftover boiled potatoes, too.” She carried the plastic containers over to the counter near the stove.

  She poured him another cup of coffee before setting a cast-iron skillet on the stove and placing two slices of ham in it. In minutes, the scent of sizzling meat filled the kitchen. Cubes of potatoes went into another skillet with some butter. She broke eggs into a big bowl, whisked them, and set them aside to cook when the potatoes and ham were done.

  Her dat loved biscuits, but she figured he’d want to get back out to the barn and finish his chores on such a cool morning. So she sliced some bread and placed it on a pan under the broiler to toast, watching it closely while she cooked. She had a tendency to burn toast because she didn’t pay attention and it browned so quickly.

  Rose Anna found her appetite waking up as she forked up the ham, set it on a platter, then piled the fried potatoes next to it. She was pleased to catch the toast at just the right color of golden brown and set it on another plate. The eggs went into the skillet where the ham had cooked. A few minutes later she set a bowl of them nicely scrambled on the table.

  “Gut job,” her dat proclaimed. He said a prayer of thanks and then dug in.

  Her mudder wandered in a few minutes later in her winter bathrobe looking a little flushed. “I thought I must be dreaming when I smelled food cooking,” she told them.

  “Rose Anna cooked me a fine breakfast,” Jacob told her. “You go back to bed and rest. I’ll bring you up some breakfast.”

  “It’s just a cold, Jacob,” she told him.

  Rose Anna touched the back of her hand to her mudder’s forehead the way she had done to her kinner. “You’re warm. Sit while I find the thermometer.”

  “Such a fuss. I’m going to get dressed so I can help your dat with the chores. Luke called him last night and said he couldn’t come today.”

  “You will not,” Rose Anna said firmly. “Daed, make her sit while I find the thermometer.”

  When she returned her dat had done as she’d asked. Her mudder sat talking with him at the table and looked even more flushed than she had minutes before.

  “I knew it!” Rose Anna said when she took the thermometer from her mudder’s mouth. “It’s 102 degrees.”

  “I’ll take some aspirin, and I’ll be fine.”

  Rose Anna fetched aspirin, a glass of water, and one of juice, then fixed a plate of food for her mudder before she made one for herself and sat down to eat.

  It felt gut to take care of her parents when they’d always been the ones to do that for her. She knew she sometimes took them for granted. What kind didn’t—little or grown? But as she ate, then made tea for her mudder and herself, she couldn’t help noting that there were more strands of silver in their hair and lines on their faces.

  Her dat cleaned his plate and rose to put it in the sink. He bent to kiss her cheek. “Danki for breakfast.”

  She rose and hugged him. “Danki for being my dat.”

  His eyebrows went up.

  “Well, well, you’re very wilkum.” He turned to Linda. “Try to eat a little more and then go back to bed.”

  “But—”

  “I’ll be out in a few minutes to help after I see that Mamm is doing as you say,” Rose Anna told him. She turned to her mudder. “No arguing with us. If you don’t get rid of your cold, you can’t babysit Mark this Saturday for Lavina.”

  She smiled when she saw her mudder hesitate then nod. “You’re right.”

  Her dat pulled on his coat and black felt hat, then went out the back door.

  Rose Anna piled the dishes in the sink, filling it with dishwashing liquid and warm water, then pulled on her own coat, bonnet, boots, and gloves. The wind was a cold slap in the face as she ventured outdoors. She shivered as she marched toward the barn.

  Inside it was warm and filled with the sounds and scents of their horses. She hurried to help him clean the stalls and feed them, pulling out an apple she’d quartered and tucked into her pocket as a treat.

  “You do that and they’ll want you to help me every morning,” her dat told her with a grin.

  “They deserve it. They work hard to help
you farm. More than I do.”

  “You have your own work,” he said as he opened a new bag of feed. “And you help me when I need it like today.”

  “It would have been easier for you if I’d been a sohn not a dochder.”

  “Maybe easier,” he said. “But not better.” He studied her. “What is this, Rose Anna? Why are you thinking I wished you were a sohn?”

  “Days like today when one of the men who helps you can’t come, it would be easier for you if I’d been born a man.”

  “Kind, kinner is a gift from God, and He gives us what—who—He feels is best. I’m grateful for you, for all of my dochders. And I don’t want you to ever doubt that.”

  He gave her a gentle smile. “Now, no more of that thinking.”

  She bit her lip and nodded. “We’ll see if you feel that way if I turn into an old maid.”

  Jacob chuckled. “That’s not going to happen. When God sends the right man, I’ll be watching you take your vows just as I did your schweschders.” He tilted his head and studied her. “I’m thinking it’s been a long time since Peter visited.”

  “He’s just a friend. And I don’t think he’s happy about it.” She shrugged. “He’s not the one God’s supposed to have set aside for me. I’m beginning to think he’s not coming.”

  “You’ve always been impatient,” he told her, his eyes twinkling. “My most impatient dochder.”

  She sighed gustily. “I know.”

  “Be patient, kind. God has a plan for you, a wonderful plan.”

  “And you’re always right.”

  He grinned as he picked up the handles of the wheelbarrow. “That I am, that I am.”

  ***

  John had sometimes called himself a Jack-of-all-trades . . . well, a John-of-all-trades might be more accurate.

  He did a little carpentry, a little farming, a little fixing buggies, and since he’d been driving a pickup, even a little minor car repair. He’d gone down this path in the beginning as a way to survive when he left his home. After all, when you grew up on a farm, you learned how to do a little of everything. And it suited his temperament. His dat had often berated him for not being able to stick to doing one thing at a time.

  Well, it was a good thing that he wasn’t a stuck-in-a-rut sort of person, that he’d been restless enough to want to learn how to do many things. Because when he wasn’t quickly able to find a permanent, full-time job, he’d been able to pick up a lot of part-time jobs.

  And then Nick, Naomi’s mann, happened to run into him one day as he built some shelves at Saul Miller’s shop, and he got what he felt was his best part-time position ever.

  “I saw your truck outside as I was returning home after my last tour,” Nick said.

  “I heard the business is working out well for you.”

  “I love it. I was a driver and tour operator before I became Amish as you know, so doing Amish buggy rides seemed a natural transition when I converted. Anyway, can you take a break for a few minutes and get some coffee with me? I have something you might be interested in.”

  They went to the coffee shop, and over coffee and pie Nick told him how he’d been approached by an Englisch man who needed help with his horses.

  “He came to me about my business,” Nick said with a chuckle. “I think he thought all Amish know about horses. Well, they do, but little did he know I only became Amish and bought the buggy tour business when I wanted to marry Naomi.”

  He sipped his coffee. “I’m still learning about horses myself. Had to when I traded driving people around in buggies instead of automobiles for a living.”

  “The Englisch man isn’t far wrong,” John said. “Most Amish families have to own at least one horse to pull their buggy. We had more, of course, since Daed had a farm before he turned it over to David.”

  “Well, this Neil Zimmerman needs someone part-time to help and the money’s good,” Nick said. “Here’s his business card. Why don’t you give him a call? You can use my name as a reference.”

  John fingered the card. “Thanks for thinking of me. And the reference.” He paused. “Can I ask you something personal?”

  “Sure.”

  “Few people—those who were Englisch—convert to the Amish faith. I only know a couple who have. Usually it’s the other way around.”

  “True.”

  “So . . . are you happy that you did?”

  Nick grinned. “Best thing I ever did. Well, second best thing. Marrying Naomi was the best.” Looking thoughtful, he stared off into the distance for a long moment. “I knew more about the Amish than many before I made my decision. I’d lived near them, driven them, for years before I fell in love with Naomi. I might not have converted if I hadn’t fallen in love with her, but it was certainly what I wanted to do after knowing her better.”

  He hesitated. “Are you thinking of not coming back, John?” he finally asked.

  “Back?”

  “Back home.”

  “It’s David and Lavina’s now.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  John sighed. “What is there for me there now, Nick?”

  “Everything,” he said simply. “Everything.”

  Now, as John picked up a pitchfork and prepared to muck out a stall, he found himself thinking about what Nick had said. What had he meant by “everything”?

  He pondered that now as he worked at the horse farm and still had no answer.

  The only thing he knew for sure right now was that he needed to thank Nick for telling him about the job.

  He spent three or four hours a day, five days a week, and it had become one of his favorite jobs. John understood horses—probably liked them better than people most days—and they seemed to like him.

  David and Sam were the ones who loved to farm. John had helped on the family farm growing up, and he still did what he could for them, but he loved feeding and taking care of the horses.

  What must it be like owning horses such as these? he wondered as he brushed the glossy black coat of the horse aptly named Midnight.

  Willow, a pretty brown mare, batted her long eyelashes at him and butted his arm with her head.

  At least one female liked him.

  That made him think about how he’d run into Rose Anna at the coffee shop that day. He chuckled as he thought about what she’d think if she knew his thoughts turned to her right after his equine flirt tried to get his attention. But Willow reminded him of the way Rose Anna used to look at him when they were first dating what felt like many years before. Now she puzzled him with her changing moods.

  Well, she’d always been a woman of changing moods. Impulsive. Fun-loving. Passionate about everything she did.

  It was an easy job mucking out stalls, feeding, and exercising the horses. And it was something he could do around his other work. The trouble was that he had a lot of time to think about things. Like Rose Anna. Like his life.

  And the more time he spent with the horses the more he wanted to.

  If Neil only knew that he’d have paid him to exercise one of the horses. He saddled Midnight and took him for a ride—something they seldom did with one of the buggy horses back home. He sat astride the beautiful, powerful stallion, drew in the needle-sharp air of early morning, and imagined what a joy it would be to take the horse for a run in the pasture soon.

  He’d thought nothing could be better than driving the pickup truck that had been passed down by the Stoltzfus men.

  He’d been so wrong.

  Late spring snow crunched beneath the horse’s hooves, the only sound in the early morning. The workout—though short—sent puffs of white into the cold air.

  Reluctantly, he slowed the horse. Midnight snorted and shook his head, but when John tightened his legs around him and pulled on the reins he followed the command and started back toward the barn.

  “I know, fella,” he said as he dismounted and patted the horse’s neck. “It’ll warm up soon. Then we’ll go for a run for as long as you like. I promise.”


  He unsaddled the horse, slipped off the bridle, and picked up a grooming brush.

  Could it be that he—the restless Jack-of-all-trades guy and maverick of the family—had finally found what he wanted to do with his life?

  And how ironic was it that it was something he’d never be able to do full time, for himself? Neil was obviously a very prosperous Englisch man and horses cost a lot of money. It wasn’t just the initial purchase price which was hefty in itself. He’d been to horse auctions with his dat so he knew what they cost. They always seemed to need big bags of food and expensive supplements and visits from the veterinarian and blacksmith.

  Not much different from having children in a way.

  He wouldn’t be having those in the near future either. But he liked being on his own. He did. He told himself that as he left the barn and drove to his next job.

  ***

  Rose Anna sewed a Mariner’s Compass quilt one of Leah’s customers had commissioned.

  It was quiet in the sewing room today. Her two schweschders were working at their homes, and her mudder was helping clean a friend’s home since the friend had been laid up with a sprained ankle.

  So Rose Anna could sit and think about her plan in peace and not be asked why she was being so quiet. Or teased by her schweschders for something. She loved them, but they could be so annoying. She supposed that was what schweschders did.

  Running into John unexpectedly had made her realize she had not only not made the most of the opportunity, but she needed to plan for such an unexpected opportunity in the future.

  After all, who knew how long it might take to convince him that she was the one for him. Marriages only took place after harvest in the fall, and while that seemed like a long time from now, time had a habit of passing quickly.

  She was gut at planning. Making a quilt was an exercise in planning. Once she had an order for one she’d choose fabric, spend a lot of time cutting it into many, many small pieces and sewing them together. Planning and patience had become part of her daily life, and while she had used them well in her work, she had to use them more to achieve her goal of marrying John this year.