Thomas extricated his hands from hers. “Marian, I would ask Dat if I thought it would do any good at all. But it won’t. We don’t discuss it anymore. And I won’t be bringing it up now. Besides, Mamm will know I’m only asking because you’re putting pressure on me. And I know you wouldn’t want that.”
He was right. She wouldn’t want that. She sucked in her breath.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I won’t mention it again.”
He gave her a sorrowful look. “You can always talk to me. I don’t mean to imply otherwise. But it’s just that I know you’ve been trying hard with Mamm, and you nagging on Christmas will not help.”
Nagging on Christmas? That’s how he saw it?
He must have read her face, for his next words were apologetic. “Ach, I’ve said it wrong, haven’t I? I’m sorry, Marian. Truly, I am.”
She nodded, holding her tears back. She was ashamed that all she wanted to do right then was go to her room alone and cry. Was all this emotion really about Christmas?
She knew it wasn’t.
She didn’t feel accepted in the Groft family, and part of her yearned to go back home.
****
The next day dawned with a dusting of snow and slivers of icicles draping from the eaves. Marian glanced out at the white horizon and was grateful she had a warm place to live. She stared at the back of the big house and imagined Betsy and the girls in there bustling about the kitchen. She could almost smell the slabs of bacon she was sure were sizzling in the cast iron skillet at that very moment.
Thomas emerged from the bedroom, his hair smooshed against his forehead and an errant lock sticking up in the back. She giggled.
“You have sleepy head,” she said with a warm smile. The night’s rest had done her good, and she’d awakened with renewed energy to be a good wife and a good daughter-in-law.
“Gut morning to you,” Thomas said. He came to her and gave her a lingering hug.
“What do you say we join your family for breakfast today?” Marian said. “Your mamm always cooks plenty.”
Thomas raised a brow and studied her. “Really? You want to go over for breakfast?”
“Why not? Unless you’d rather stay here. I can whip up some eggs in no time.”
“Nee. If you’d like to go over, let’s go.”
She straightened her shoulders. “Jah. Let’s go.”
“You can start over without me. I’ll be with you in a couple minutes.” Thomas stood and walked to the heavy desk that was pushed against the west wall. “Did you see my ledger?”
“Top drawer. Right,” she answered. “I’ll see you in a minute then.”
He nodded, already flipping through the pages of the book.
She put on her cape and went outside. The air bit at her face and she blinked, adjusting to the cold. She was grateful it was only a short walk to the side entrance of the big house. Marian pulled open the door and stepped into the cool wash room. She hung her cape on one of the empty pegs. She was ready to step into the kitchen when she heard Betsy’s sharp voice. It wasn’t at full volume; instead, it was a low hiss.
“It’s so disturbing. Why her?” she was saying. “Why Marian?”
Marian’s breath caught and once again she found herself hiding in the wash room, eavesdropping on her mother-in-law. But there was no way she was going to reveal herself now.
“Stop going on about it,” came Mr. Groft’s rich voice. “It’s over and done. You’re only tormenting yourself.”
“Amelia came by,” Betsy continued. “She’s such a good girl, and her mother is normal.”
Swift pain grabbed Marian’s heart. Is this what it’s all about? My mamm?
“She visited at your invitation,” Mr. Groft admonished. “You’re askin’ for trouble, Betsy.”
“I’m doing no such thing!” Betsy’s low voice was indignant. “Thomas could have courted any of the girls in the district. They all would have had him. But nee. He had to court the daughter of a crazy woman!”
“That’s enough, wife!” Mr. Groft said. “Marian is your daughter-in-law. No more talking.”
“But, Isaiah! They’ll have children.” Here her voice grew so low, Marian could barely hear her. “You know madness runs in families. Thomas’s children won’t be right.”
“Betsy Groft! I said enough, and I mean it. We’ll welcome Thomas’s children as the gifts from Gott that they are. No more of such talk. No more, do you hear me?”
There was some scuffling and light footsteps.
“Mamm, we’ve made the beds. What do you need now?” Martha asked.
“Mornin’ Mamm and Dat,” came Deb’s voice. “Esther’s still in the bathroom. She gets out of all the work!”
“Deb, mind your mouth,” came Betsy’s reprimand.
Mind your mouth, indeed, Marian thought. Now, she knew why Betsy disliked her so. All these weeks and weeks, Marian had tried in vain to win her over. She had done every nice thing she could think up. She’d put on smile after smile when all she’d wanted to do was scream out her frustration.
So now she knew. And there was nothing she could have done or could still do to change her mother-in-law’s heart. Nothing.
Moving with extreme care, Marian put her cape back around her shoulders. She placed both hands on the door knob, easing the door open without a sound. She stepped outside and shut the door behind her with the softest of clicks.
When she turned toward the daadi haus, Thomas was coming down the walk.
“You’ve not gone in?” he asked her.
She blinked.
“I thought you’d be helping in the kitchen by now,” he said with a wide smile. “Come on. Let’s go.”
He put his hand on the small of her back and guided her into the house. They hung their outer clothing on the pegs and entered the kitchen. At their footsteps, Betsy swung around from the sink and stared at them. She had the decency to look a bit cowed, and Marian knew that even though she might have stopped talking about her and her mother, she hadn’t stopped thinking about them. For some reason, the whole business was stuck in Betsy’s craw, and she couldn’t or wouldn’t let it go.
Isaiah was already seated at the table in the dining area. The girls were bustling back and forth with the serving dishes, and Thomas’s brother Ben was sitting next to his dat, yawning.
“Thomas and Marian,” Betsy said. “You’re here for breakfast?”
Thomas went to his mother and put his arm around her shoulders, squeezing her to his side. She chuckled like a school girl and squirmed away.
“Martha, set on two more plates,” she instructed her daughter.
Deb glanced at her mother and then skipped over to Marian and threw her arms around her waist. “Morning, Marian,”
Marian hugged her back, surprised at such a display in front of Betsy. “Morning, Deb. You ready for a gut day at school?”
Deb dropped her arms and grimaced. “Don’t much like school.”
“Me, neither,” Esther chimed in. “Teacher’s nice and all, but I’d rather be home, helping Mamm.”
Betsy snorted. “Ach, I’ll remember that during the summer months.”
Esther rolled her eyes and grinned. “I’m sure you will.”
Thomas had gone in to join his dat and brother at the table.
“What can I do?” Marian asked.
Betsy gestured toward the pitcher of milk. “Get that poured.”
“Of course,” Marian said, taking the pitcher to the table. She poured everyone a glass, emptying the last drip from the pitcher.
“All right,” Betsy said, glancing around the table. “Girls, let’s sit.”
Everyone did. Isaiah bowed his head, and they all did likewise for the silent blessing. After a minute or two, he cleared his throat and they all looked up, ready to eat. Isaiah dished up some eggs and passed them to his wife.
Everything was delicious, which was no surprise to Marian. Betsy was well-known for her cooking abilities. She could make even the toughes
t piece of beef taste like a celebration. That morning, her biscuits melted in Marian’s mouth. Marian yearned to bake as well as her mother-in-law. Before she and Thomas were married, she dreamt of friendly cooking sessions together with Betsy, laughing and joking over the work. But reality reared its head and stepped in to interfere with her fond dreams. Now, when the two women worked together in the kitchen, at best, it was in uncomfortable silence.
Marian took a bite of crispy bacon and pondered her morning. She needed to use the pony cart to mail her column at the post office. She could put it in the mail box on the road, but she knew from experience that it would get to her editor sooner if she took it in to Hollybrook.
“May I use the pony cart this morning?” she asked after a sip of milk.
Betsy’s eyebrow raised. “Why? Are you meeting that Englisch friend of yours again?”
Isaiah’s gaze darted to Marian. “What’s this?” he asked.
Thomas looked at her. “Why do you need it?”
Marian swallowed. “Just want to ride in to the post office.”
Thomas nodded. “Ah. Your column.” He gave her a smile, but she was dismayed to see his relief at her response.
“Jah. My column.”
Isaiah passed the plate of bacon to Ben. “Don’t see why not,” he said. He looked at his wife. “What Englisch friend?”
Betsy shrugged. “You’d have to ask Marian.” Her voice was innocent enough, but Marian caught her undertone.
“I have a friend named Amy,” she explained. “From time to time, we run into each other at the Feed and Supply.”
Isaiah nodded and gave his wife a censuring stare. Inwardly, Marian groaned. She didn’t want to be the cause of issues between Betsy and Isaiah.
Thomas seemed to discern the tension because he turned to his younger sisters and began questioning them about their schoolwork. Marian took a breath and gave the girls an encouraging smile. Anything to keep the conversation from her.
Three
There was a knock on the front door of the daadi haus. Marian hurried to open it, wondering who would be there.
“Hello, Deb!” she said. “Why knock?”
The young girl gave her a bright smile. “Mamm’s been on all of us about manners. I thought knocking would be more polite.”
Marian laughed. “You’re my family,” she said. “Knocking is not necessary.”
“That’s what I think!” Deb waltzed into the house. “Wanna walk me to school?”
Marian glanced at the round clock over the sink. “I’d love to, but aren’t you going to be late?”
Deb nodded her head, her face growing serious. “’Fraid so. Mamm thinks I’m already on my way.”
“Why aren’t you?”
“’Cause I get tired of Martha and Esther always bossin’ me around.”
Marian nodded her head, giving Deb her most serious consideration. “I see. Jah, it must be tiring to have someone telling you what to do all the time.”
Deb’s face brightened. “That’s what I think!”
Marian took her heaviest cape from the peg. “Then we best get going and right quick.”
Deb grabbed Marian’s hand and the two of them hurried from the daadi haus toward the school down the road.
****
Marian posted her column before the noon meal that day. The ride was cold, and Saunter, the Groft’s pony, liked to trot as quickly as he could, making a downright breeze as they passed over the road. It was a bit fast for Marian’s liking, but she had to admire the horse’s spirit.
Later when she approached her parents’ farm on the way home, she couldn’t help herself, she tugged the reins to the right and went down the drive. Mamm was emerging from the barn, Izzie on her hip.
“Mamm!” Marian called with a wave.
Mamm scurried over, Izzie squirming to get down from her arms.
“Ach, Isabel!” Mamm fussed, putting the girl down on the frozen dirt. “Marian, what are you doing out and about?”
“Went to the post office, but I’m on my way home.” Marian climbed from the cart and reached down for Izzie. The little girl jumped into her arms. “Hello, Izzie. How’s my girl?”
“Gut! Gut!” Izzie gurgled. “Mari.”
Mamm reached over and tugged Izzie’s dress down over her legs. “It’s mighty cold out,” she said. “Can you come in for a spell?”
Marian shook her head. “I shouldn’t. I promised Thomas to help his mother with the noon meal.”
Mamm studied her. “I fear you’re a bit late for that. What is it, girl?”
Marian frowned. “What is what?”
“What’s bothering you?”
Marian nuzzled Izzie’s neck, making the baby squeal with delight. She looked over at her mother. “Nothing.”
“Ach! Most folks around here call me crazy—” She held up her hand when Marian tried to interrupt her. “I’m not daft. I know what they say.” She leaned close and stared into Marian’s eyes. “But I’m not half as daft as the lot of them. So, what’s wrong?”
Marian sighed. “I miss you is all.” She gestured with her free hand, indicating the full property. “All of it. I miss it.”
“Grofts have a big farm. Bigger than ours. So you can’t be missin’ the farm.”
“And you. And Dat. And this little one.”
“We’re right here. So you can hardly be missin’ us neither.”
Marian handed Izzie to her mother. She shouldn’t be voicing any of her concerns. It was disloyal, and she was quite sure it was displeasing to God. She gave a short laugh. “Don’t mind me, Mamm. A touch of nostalgia is all.”
She climbed back into the cart and picked up the reins.
“Nostalgia, my eye,” Mamm said with a piercing tone. “It’s the Grofts. That Betsy can be tough as a wet hen guarding her eggs. And no Christmas? Ach! Never heard tell of such a thing.”
Her mother’s sharp tongue was going too far, and Marian needed to leave. She blew her sister a kiss and waved a good-bye to her mamm, giving Saunter full rein. The pony obliged, trotting at a good speed down the drive and back onto the road.
Marian needed to be more careful. She couldn’t be guilty of complaining about her family. It wasn’t loyal or proper. She snapped the reins, and Saunter gained speed. The frigid air pelted Marian’s cheeks as they pulled in at the Grofts.
As she approached the barn, Thomas came around from the chicken coop. His eyes lit up when he saw her.
“You’re back,” he said, walking to her.
“I’m back.”
“I suppose it sounds absurd to say I missed you.” He took the reins from her hand, and she stepped down from the cart.
“Completely absurd,” she murmured.
“But true.” He put his hand on her shoulder and gave her a squeeze. “Your column safely posted.”
“Safely posted.”
He touched her cheek with the back of his hand. “You’re cold.”
She laughed, grasping his hand and pulling it away from her cheek. “So is your hand!”
He chuckled. “Got me, there. I’ll unhitch Saunter for you. Why don’t you go on in and warm up?”
“You’ll be in soon? And can you tell your mamm we’ll eat in the daadi haus?”
“You’ve changed your mind? I thought you were going to help her prepare the meal. But, that’s fine, I’ll tell her.”
She smiled at him and hurried to the daadi haus. She had a good supply of left-overs she could serve, and she’d make some fresh biscuits to go with them. She shut the door behind her and shivered. It wasn’t much warmer inside. Glancing at the fireplace, she saw the fire had long since gone out. Quickly, she turned the gas cook stove on for the biscuits and then moved across the room and knelt before the fireplace. She shoved the metal screen aside and set to building a new fire. The logs caught quickly, and she rested back on her haunches, letting the heat caress her face.
The front door opened and a gust moved through the room, causing the fire to dance
and spit up some ash. Marian flinched as it flew into her eyes.
“Ach! I’m sorry, Marian.” Thomas hurried across the room. “Did it get you?”
She rubbed her eyes and let the instant tears wash the ash away. “It’s gone now. Don’t worry.”
He peered into her watery eyes. “I’m so sorry. You’re sure you’re fine.”
“I’m sure.”
She stood and brushed off her dress. “Now you sit down and rest. I’ll have the meal on the table in a jiffy.”
She hurried to get out the mixing bowl and the flour and lard. Grabbing up the salt, she set it on the counter. Her biscuits might not be as fluffy as Betsy’s, but they were light and tasty. In ten minutes, she had them mixed up, rolled, and cut into circles with the end of a glass. She placed them on a tray and slid them into the already hot oven.
Then she busied herself with the left-overs, putting the beans on the burner and lightly frying slabs of meatloaf to warm them up.
“Almost ready,” she told Thomas.
He glanced at her over his shoulder. “I’m fine. No hurry.”
“Were you mending the coop this morning?”
He shook his head and chuckled. “Can’t figure out how the wire gets twisted and shoved up. I’m thinking we have some curious raccoons around.”
“That’s not good.”
“Nee. I think I’ve got it fixed now, though. Those critters shouldn’t be able to get at anything now.”
Marian grabbed up two hot pads and took the biscuits from the oven. She placed the food on the table. “All right, Thomas. Come and sit.”
They sat together and Thomas bowed his head for the silent prayer. Marian joined him, thanking God for the food and for her husband. Sitting with him like that, alone in the daadi haus, she felt content, as if nothing could ever touch her or mar their happiness.
Thomas cleared his throat, and they both opened their eyes.
“Smells good,” Thomas said, picking up the plate with the meatloaf. “Thank you.”
Amish Romance BOOK BUNDLE: Marian's Story: Amish Romance Boxed Set (Hollybrook Amish Romance) Page 14
