“Dad did it,” he said.
“If you’d objected, he wouldn’t have. John told me that.”
He shrugged and looked a little embarrassed. “It’s the right thing to do. It’s what Dad wanted.”
“He was such a sweet man. And he raised a good son.” She clutched the handle of the tote bag with the containers. “John said he invited you to the wedding. I hope you’ll come.”
“I will.”
“If you won’t stay for lunch, let me pack you something.”
He patted the insulated container on the passenger seat. “I made sandwiches of that wonderful ham you brought over. I’m good.”
“Coffee?”
“I can get some on the road.”
“Give me just a minute? I have a surprise for you I was bringing over later. Please?”
“Okay. I’ll just check my messages,” he said as he pulled out his cell phone.
Rose Anna ran inside, washed her hands, and found a Thermos. Her mudder had just made a pot of coffee, so she poured it into the Thermos. She took one of the plastic containers from the tote Brad had returned, saw he’d returned it clean, and filled it with the cinnamon rolls she’d made before going out to garden. Two were missing. Either Grossdaadi or her dat had been in the kitchen. She rushed back outside and handed the tote to Brad. “Cinnamon rolls and coffee. I hope you enjoy them.”
“I love your cinnamon rolls,” he said, taking the tote from her. “Thank you, Rose Anna.”
“And thank you to your father and you for having such generous hearts,” she told him fervently. “I’ll pray for you to have a safe journey home. See you soon.”
He nodded. “See you soon.”
She stood there for a long time, watching him head down the road. Then she went inside, climbed the stairs to the sewing room, and found her mudder. And burst into tears.
Linda dropped the quilt she was sewing and held out her arms. “What is it, kind?”
“I’m so happy,” she sobbed.
“I know. I know.” She patted her back.
“I told John to believe God would help him, but I never dreamed—I never dreamed—” she broke off.
“You never dreamed God could make something so wunderbaar happen?”
“I guess I didn’t.” She reached over to pluck a tissue from the nearby table and wiped her eyes.
“I thought much the same thing the day I married your dat,” she said, smiling reminiscently. “And then the first time I held my boppli in my arms. Then I was amazed each time another came along.”
She smiled and picked up her quilt. “There have been other times, of course. But those were the biggest miracles, signs God loved me and had wunderbaar plans for me as a young woman.”
Rose Anna returned to her chair and picked up her own quilt, then set it down. Restless, she prowled the room.
“How is John doing?”
“I think he’s just overwhelmed. And he’s happy about the farm, but it came about through the loss of a good friend. It’s been a mixed blessing.”
Linda nodded. “Life’s like that sometimes. Sunshine and shadow. I suppose that’s why it’s always been one of my favorite quilt patterns to work with.”
Rose Anna continued to pace the room.
“You know, it’s not too soon to start thinking about the wedding.”
She stopped and looked at her mudder.
“What, this is a surprise?”
“I guess everything’s just been moving so quickly. John just came to me two days ago with such amazing news.”
Linda set the quilt down again. “Let’s go down and have a cup of tea and talk about it.”
As they descended the stairs Rose Anna thought she heard something. She stopped, took her mudder’s arm with one hand, and held her finger to her lips in a signal to be quiet.
Schur enough there was a scraping sound in the kitchen as if a chair was being pushed back from the table, a scuffle of feet, and the closing of a door.
After exchanging a look they continued down the stairs.
The kitchen was empty when they walked into it. Rose Anna looked at the counter where she’d left the cinnamon rolls and shook her head, trying to hold back a laugh. “Mamm, I think we have a mouse.”
“A mouse?” Linda looked around and then under the kitchen table. “Where?”
“It’s a cinnamon-roll-eating mouse,” she said seriously. “It’s eaten two rolls so far this morning.”
Linda straightened up and looked at her. “It eats cinnamon rolls, eh?”
“I think I know where it is.” She gestured at the dawdi haus.
“So it’s not the one out in the barn?”
Rose Anna shook her head and stuck her tongue firmly in the side of her mouth. “I heard it scuttle into the dawdi haus, didn’t you?”
Linda nodded. “It’s just I’ve also caught the one who likes to lurk in the barn stealing sweets.”
“Shall we see what’s up?”
Her mudder nodded. They advanced on the dawdi haus, rapped on the door, then walked in. Grossdaadi sat at the little kitchen table, and he was trying to hide something under a napkin on a plate. “Ya? Did you need me?” he asked, trying to look innocent.
“Grossdaadi, you have icing on your beard,” Rose Anna chided.
He picked up the napkin and wiped at his beard. Then he looked down at the remnants of the cinnamon roll on the table.
Linda made a tsking sound. “We found the cinnamon-roll-eating mouse, Rose Anna. But it’s a very elderly mouse. What do you suppose we should do about it?”
“Catch him, Mamm, and hug him!” she cried, advancing on him and hugging him.
He chuckled. “It wasn’t my fault. You shouldn’t leave such things out if you don’t want a man to eat them.”
“They were cooling, Grossdaadi.”
“Now you won’t want lunch.”
“It’s ready?” He stood.
Linda laughed. “You know it isn’t. You just sneaked out of the kitchen. It’ll be ready in ten minutes. Then we’ll see if you have any appetite for it.”
They walked back into the kitchen and worked together to fix sandwiches and heat vegetable soup from the day before.
“After lunch I think we need to take a ride into town,” Linda walked to the back door, then turned to look at her. “Let’s go pick out the fabric for your wedding dress.”
Rose Anna smiled as she sat at the table. “I bought it some time ago,” she said. “I’ll go get it.”
***
His.
John walked around the property still feeling a little dazed. It had been three weeks, and it still felt unreal. He found his steps taking him to the creek. Sinking down onto the log, he stared at the gently flowing creek. He sat there for a long time absorbing the peace and quiet as the horses grazed.
“Figured I’d find you here when you weren’t in the barn.”
John spun around on the log. “Hey, did you get lost? Thought I’d see you an hour ago.”
“Traffic was bad.” Brad took a seat beside him.
He was glad to see that most of the grief and stress had faded from Brad’s face. “You’re wearing jeans,” he approved. “So, are you going to give me some help?”
“I’m not going near that barn no matter what you say.” He looked at the creek, up at the horses grazing nearby, and sighed. “Sure is peaceful here. So, how are the wedding plans going?”
“Rose Anna’s taking care of all that.”
“She’s not dragging you into plans? I was briefly engaged about a year ago, and I had to go everywhere with Bridezilla.”
John stared at him. “Your fiancée’s name was Bridezilla?”
Brad laughed. “Sometimes I forget about the difference in cultures. No, that’s a nickname for brides who get a little too caught up in all the arrangements and get crazy. She had a list a mile long a week after I gave her the engagement ring. We had to pick the place to get married, the officiant, the reception. Talk about the theme
. Only good part was sampling the different flavors of wedding cake.”
“Theme?”
He sighed. “Don’t ask.”
“Well, here—in the Amish community—things are pretty simple. We hold church services in our homes, so couples get married at the bride’s house. We have a big meal, get together and socialize, play games, and then we eat again, and only when it’s getting dark does everyone leave.”
“An all-day celebration?”
“Yes.”
“Sounds fun. Especially the food. No one cooks better than the Amish.”
“Rose Anna’s already brought over food for our supper. I told her you were coming this weekend.”
“Sounds good.” He squawked and jumped off the log, spinning around to stare at Fiona. “Oh, it’s you.” He held out a tentative hand, and the filly stepped closer and sniffed at him. When she found he didn’t have any treat, she walked over to John and nudged his arm.
“You could be popular with the ladies if you kept these on hand.” He held out a plastic baggie of apple slices and offered one to Brad. “Here, give it to her. C’mon, she won’t bite.”
Brad took the slice and held it out to Fiona. She stepped forward and nipped it carefully, chewing as she gazed at him with big, liquid brown eyes.
“She’s grown a lot since I was here last.” He studied her. “She’s pretty. For a horse, I mean. What’s her name?”
“Your dad named her Fiona.”
“He—really? That was his sister’s name. She died a few years ago.”
“That’s nice. Family was obviously important to him.” He took another slice of apple and offered it to Fiona. When Willow wandered over, John saw Brad’s eyes widen as he backed up two steps.
“Brad, stop!”
“Make her stop!”
“You’re going to land in the creek if you take another step.”
Brad looked behind him and came to a screeching halt.
“That’s Willow, Fiona’s mama. Give her some apple.” John walked over to put several slices of apple in his hand.
“She’s got really big teeth.”
John saw his hand shaking and took pity on him. “Hold your hand flat, and she’ll take them off.”
“And how many fingers will she take with them?” he asked nervously.
“None.”
Sure enough Willow lapped up the apple slices and chomped on them not Brad’s fingers. When Willow bumped his shoulder he paled a little, but John took his hand and showed him how to stroke her nose.
“Horses are big, but they’re really gentle creatures.”
“So you say.” He looked at Willow. “Is she—is she batting her eyelashes at me?”
He chuckled. “Yes. You sure are fickle,” John admonished Willow. “I thought you were my girl.”
“Did Dad ever tell you why I don’t like horses?”
“No.”
“He put me up on one at my fifth birthday party. The horse put her foot on his and wouldn’t get off. I can still hear him yelling bloody murder for someone to help him. And then when he saw he was scaring me, he told me everything was going to be okay and not to be frightened.”
“I can see how that could scare you.” But John had to bite firmly on his inner cheek so he didn’t laugh. He could imagine Neil yelling and trying not to scare his kid.
“I think if you hung out with Fiona and Willow you’d lose that fear.”
“But not Midnight?” he asked, watching him warily as he strutted about a hundred yards away.
“No, he’s a handful and likes to intimidate. I’ll probably never use him for those riding lessons for underprivileged kids and veterans we talked about. I met with some people about that last week, by the way.”
Brad resumed his seat on the log.
“So what happened to Bridezilla?”
“The wedding plan nonsense showed me we weren’t the match I thought we were. My parents kind of spoiled me for marriage. They were very happily married for more than forty years. I wanted that, and I saw I wasn’t going to have that with Tiffany.”
“How long did you know her?”
“I proposed to her after we dated six months. How long have you known Rose Anna?”
“All my life.”
“I guess that’s the advantage of living in a small community.”
John laughed. “It can be a disadvantage, too. News can travel fast on the Amish grapevine.”
“Funny thing,” Brad said, and his tone became thoughtful. “An old college friend came to Dad’s memorial service, and we had dinner afterward. We’ve been seeing each other since then, and she’s been great about cheering me up. We lost touch and went in different directions after law school, but she’s back in Philadelphia. So who knows.” He glanced at John. “Dad always liked her.”
John picked up a pebble and tossed it into the creek. “That’s a good sign.” Then he frowned. “My dad’s always liked Rose Anna. I’m sure he’ll be especially thrilled when he hears we’re getting married.”
“You haven’t told him yet?”
“No. Couples often don’t tell their families until just before the church announcement.”
“Interesting.”
They sat there silently for a few minutes.
“I brought some more boxes to pack up some of Dad’s personal things, and we can go over that paperwork you called me about. If you’re done with horse chores.”
John laughed. “Yeah, I’m done with them for the morning.”
They got the boxes from Brad’s car and took them into the farmhouse. “Do you want some help?” he asked when Brad stood in the middle of his father’s bedroom and seemed unable to move.
“No, it’s okay.” He picked up some framed photos and began putting them into a box.
“You don’t have to rush doing this.”
“I don’t think it’s going to get easier if I wait.” He sat on the bed and looked at the photo in his hand. “Anyway, there’s not much I’m going to take. He didn’t bring much here. Called it downsizing after he sold the house in Philadelphia. I’m going to take one or two of his sweaters to remind me of him and donate the rest of his clothes. Maybe you could drop those off to some charity you know can use them.”
“Sure.”
“Can I say something?” Brad asked after a long moment. “You can tell me to mind my own business if you want.”
“Okay.”
Brad lifted his gaze from the photo to look at him. “Things can just change so fast. I hope that you can fix the rift between you and your father. We just never know how long we’ll have someone, you know?”
He sighed. “I do know. My dat had cancer and beat it, but I know it can come back. He just makes things so difficult.”
“Didn’t you tell me once that your brothers worked things out with him?”
“Yeah. They have more patience I guess.”
“You seem pretty patient to me.”
John grinned. “My dad would disagree with you. He always acted like I couldn’t hold a job after I left home. He didn’t seem to understand how hard it was to find a full-time job.”
“You were looking for the right one. And it found you.”
“You sound like your dad.”
Brad grinned. “That’s a great compliment.”
“I meant it that way.”
“What’s it like to have a brother?” he asked suddenly as he stood and began packing photos in the box again.
Kind of like the way we’re getting along, John wanted to say. But he wasn’t sure Brad would welcome that.
“I could show you. I could drag you down to the creek and toss you in. Or we could have a tussle in the mud. One of my brothers did that to me not so very long ago.”
Brad glanced down at his expensive jeans and boots. “I think I’ll pass on that. Maybe we can have a beer after I finish up here.”
“That sounds good. I’ll go get some more boxes.”
***
The days got busier a
s the men harvested the crops and the women canned and froze and otherwise preserved God’s bounty.
It was tiring work but so rewarding to carry all the Mason jars down to store them on shelves in the basement. And after the long, hard, hot summer it wouldn’t be long before Rosa Anna’s wedding.
The quilting classes were a welcome break, but they were a hive of activity as well. Crafts were being sewn and finished for tourists and locals buying for the Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays.
“I heard the good news,” Kate whispered to her as they sat at the front of the classroom.
“You did?”
“I saw John at the courthouse yesterday. He was with Neil Zimmerman’s son filing some papers. John told me what Neil did. He was such a nice man. Donated to the policeman’s benevolent fund, and Malcolm and Chris went to him about offering riding lessons for underprivileged kids and wounded vets, and he was very receptive. John said he’s looking into doing it.”
She leaned in closer. “I know I shouldn’t ask . . . but does the good news about the farm mean you might be sharing any other good news soon?”
Rose Anna tried to keep a straight face. But this was her gut friend. She grinned.
“Oh, I am so happy for you!” Kate reached over and hugged Rose Anna.
“Don’t you dare say a word to anyone!” Rose Anna whispered urgently.
“I won’t! I promise. I’ll zip my lips right now. See, zipped.” She looked past Rose Anna. “Lannie!”
The little girl pulled her thumb out of her mouth. “Zipped?”
Kate laughed. “It means be quiet, sweetie.”
“Shush,” Lannie said with a nod.
“That’s right. Shush.”
Rose Anna watched her wander off to sit by her mudder. It suddenly struck her. Not only was she going to be a fraa soon but with luck not that long after it she could be a mudder a year or after like Lavina.
The thought made her slightly giddy. She took a deep breath, then another to calm herself. She couldn’t get ahead of herself. That was something she did in the past. She remembered years ago how she’d sat in schul daydreaming about becoming John’s fraa and writing her married name over and over in her composition book.
She and Kate dropped a few boxes of crafts off at Sewn in Hope. By the time she got home, Rose Anna realized she was feeling warm and achy and her head hurt. She walked into the haus and sneezed.
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