by Mary Davis
Her sisters bustled around, busy at work. Even Naomi helped, and Sarah had her little job of sorting the silverware. The only other one not there, besides their parents, was Hannah.
Deborah headed for her parents’ room and peeked in around the door frame. “Is there anything I can do? Anything you need?”
Mutter held a plate while Vater ate with his gut arm.
Hannah gingerly tucked a pillow under Vater’s broken leg. “We’re gut. See if the others need help in the kitchen.”
Deborah gave a weak smile. She’d already done that. “Vater, I’m praying you heal quickly.”
“Danki.”
She left. With nothing to do inside, she headed outside and found Amos in the barn.
He stood below the hayloft, staring up at the underside of the floor above.
“What are you doing?”
He turned to her, and his mouth pulled up at the corners. “Trying to decide the best way to fix this.”
She liked his smile. A lot. She stood next to him and looked to where he pointed. A hole roughly the size of a laundry basket had opened up through several of the boards, and hay hung down in the opening. “What happened?”
Shifting, he stared at her. “You really don’t know?”
“Know what?”
“Your vater fell through there and landed here on the floor. Fortunately, there weren’t any tools, boxes or barrels for him to get further injured on.”
She pictured her vater falling and gasped. She hadn’t thought to ask just how he’d gotten hurt. All she knew was that he had fallen.
“The boards look pretty rotted. They should have been replaced long before now.”
“Why hadn’t he done that?”
“He was probably too busy with running the rest of the farm on his own to notice. I’ll check all the boards and build a new loft floor if need be. I figure I can do some of the regular maintenance he couldn’t get to and repair what needs repairing until I... Until it’s time to plow and plant.”
“Do you think he’s going to be in a cast that long?”
“Hard to say. Some people’s bones heal faster than others’. But even if he’s out of the cast, his leg will be weak. He’ll need time to regain his strength.”
“What can I do to help?”
He chuffed out a chuckle. “What? I’m sure there’s plenty to be done in the house.”
“Hannah and Lydia are taking care of Vater while overseeing the breakfast cleanup as well as the early prep for lunch. Everyone’s busy with their regular duties, leaving nothing for me except free time.” She didn’t even have a modeling job today. That would have been nice to get her mind off Vater being hurt.
“This isn’t woman’s work.”
“If you haven’t noticed, my vater has seven girls. We’ve all done a bit of carpentry, livestock tending and even some plowing. So let me help.”
“Danki for the offer, but I can manage.”
If she was a man, he’d accept her help. “Well, I have nothing else to do, so I’m not leaving.” She backed up to a covered feed barrel, pushed herself up and sat. “If you won’t let me help with the labor, I’ll supervise from here.” The truth was, she just wanted to be out here with him.
He stared at her hard for a long moment. “You are going to tell me how to fix this?”
“It’s either that or put me to work.” The work would go faster if he allowed her to help. Would he be too stubborn and insist on doing it alone? If so, he deserved to have a more difficult time than need be, and he deserved to have her comment on every little thing he did.
“Fine. But you have to do as I say. I don’t want you getting hurt, as well.”
She hopped off the barrel and saluted him.
He shook his head at her playful gesture. “First we need to determine how sturdy the rest of this floor is.” He handed her a shovel, and he grabbed a pitchfork for himself. “Tap the underside of the boards with the end of the handle.” He demonstrated with his implement.
Deborah poked at a board to show him that not only did she understand his elementary instructions, but that she could also follow his directions as ordered. Then she smiled.
He worked his mouth back and forth, presumably to keep from smiling himself. His effort created a cute expression.
She studied her shovel from tip to end. She didn’t like the idea of lifting the heavy metal blade up and down. The repetitive movement would give her sore muscles, for sure. After looking around, she leaned the shovel against the wall and grabbed a push broom. Putting her foot on the head, she twisted the handle several times, freeing it. This was lighter. Much better for repetitive motions. She twirled it around once and went to work tapping and poking. “Tell me about your family.”
Amos shrugged. “Like what?”
“Parents. Siblings.”
“I have two parents and four brothers.”
Not very forthcoming with information. She was going to have to work harder at learning anything about him. She would start with something easy and hope he got the hint and freely offered up more details. “What are your parents’ names?”
“Joseph and Karen.”
At least half the boards she poked at were usable for the time being, although they would need to be replaced soon. The other half of them were splintery and soft. “What about your brothers?”
“James, Boaz, Daniel and Titus.”
She felt like growling and poking him with a stick. Couldn’t he give her more information? Did he not want to talk to her? Well, she wasn’t about to work in silence. Her sisters chatted all the time while doing chores. “Where do you fit into all of them?”
“Youngest.”
Really? Nothing more than that? She did growl now, softly to herself, and jabbed her stick at the next board. It poked through, splintering the wood in half. Hay showered down on her from between the dangling halves.
Amos rushed over and pulled her out of the way as one of the jagged pieces broke free and shot straight down to where she’d been standing. She could have been seriously injured.
Caught off guard by his action, she lost her balance and grasped at his sleeve. Her body twisted, and gravity did the rest of the work, landing her in a pile of straw.
Between her yanking on his sleeve and his trying to catch her, he lost his footing as well and landed in the straw beside her with one arm stretched across to the other side of her. His eyes went wide. “Are you all right? Did you get hurt?”
He looked so adorable in his worried state that a giggle escaped her lips before she could stop it.
His mouth pulled up at the corners. “I guess that means you’re not hurt.”
She nodded and wrestled her chortling under control.
He plucked hay off her cheek and forehead. “You’re covered.”
She imagined she was but didn’t help him, liking his ministrations.
His hand stilled, and he stared down at her for a long moment.
What was he thinking?
Clearing his throat, he pushed himself up to his feet, then offered her assistance. His hand was large and strong. And warm.
As soon as she was on her feet, he released her quickly as though embarrassed, and stared up at the ceiling. “Too many of the boards are rotted beyond repair, and the ones that are serviceable won’t be for long. It would be best to replace the whole floor. I’ll take the wagon into town and order the necessary lumber.”
Now he was chatty? Or had their little moment made him uncomfortable? She missed the moment of closeness they’d just shared. Would they have another one in the future? She hoped so.
Chapter Three
The next morning, Amos was sent into town by the oldest twin, Hannah, to pick up some medicine for Bartholomew Miller. Though identical in most respects, he noted that Hannah had a worry crease between her e
yebrows, which helped him to differentiate the two sisters.
He now drove back along the paved road. Floyd plodded along. The rhythm of his clip-clopping hoofbeats lulled Amos’s thoughts—thoughts that drifted to his cousin. Jacob was gut to help Amos. Amos wouldn’t know what to do on the outside. Having his cousin’s guidance made him feel less anxious about the whole endeavor. Jacob knew all about Amos’s hurts back in Pennsylvania. How Esther had let him court her and led him to believe she cared for him, only to turn down his offer of marriage. Then when he’d arrived in Indiana, the situation was nearly repeated with Bethany.
Then his thoughts turned to the Millers’ farm. The work there was gut. Gave him purpose. And being around all those women would give him insight into the female mind. Maybe then he could figure out what he’d done wrong in the past.
Up ahead, an Amish woman meandered in the middle of the two-lane country road.
What was she doing?
A car came down the road, honked and swerved around her.
She sidestepped but didn’t move to the side of the road.
He snapped the reins to hurry the horse. When he pulled up beside her, he said, “Ma’am?”
She faced him but didn’t really look at him.
“Teresa? Teresa Miller?” He hauled back on the reins.
“Ja.” She raised her hand to shade her eyes from the morning winter sun.
“What are you doing out here?”
“I was going somewhere.” She chuckled. “But I seem to have forgotten where.”
That didn’t explain why she was in the middle of the road. He jumped down. “Come. I’ll drive you home.”
“That would be nice. Danki.” She climbed into the buggy and waited.
How odd. But other than her being in the middle of the road, he couldn’t put his finger on what exactly was off about this encounter. He got in and took her home.
When he drove into the yard and up to the house, the twins rushed outside without coats on. Hannah opened the buggy door and took Teresa’s hand. “Mutter, where have you been? We’ve been looking for you.” A forced cheeriness laced her words.
“I went for a nice little walk.” She patted Amos’s arm. “But I was safe.”
Hannah helped her mutter out and exchanged glances with Lydia. Hannah’s gaze flickered to him. “Danki.”
“Bitte.” Amos held out the paper sack with the prescription. “Here’s your vater’s medication.”
Lydia took it. “Danki.” The women rushed into the house, leaving Amos to wonder.
Women. They behaved strangely. How was a man to figure them out? Maybe it was impossible, and he should give up on them altogether.
A while after Miriam had completed the late-afternoon milking, Amos headed to the house for supper. Though he’d been mulling over this morning’s incident with Teresa all day and wanted to ask about it, he decided not to embarrass her by mentioning anything.
He stepped through the kitchen door into barely ordered chaos. One girl went this way while another went that way and two others looked to be on a collision course, but both swerved in the appropriate directions and barely missed running into each other. The women seemed to almost read each others’ minds with each one going in a different direction. How did they ever get anything accomplished? But somehow they managed to pull supper together.
Maybe there was some order to their mayhem he couldn’t detect. That men in general couldn’t. He would like to figure it out but sensed he could spend a lifetime and never understand women. He should give up even trying anymore.
Teresa Miller smiled and came over to him. “My brother stopped by and brought some of your things. They are in a suitcase by the front door.”
“Your brother?”
“Ja. David. He wore that blue shirt I made him for his birthday.”
Hannah gave a nervous-sounding giggle, and the crease between her eyebrows deepened. “She meant your brother.”
He didn’t have a brother named David. Maybe she meant Daniel.
“Ne. I didn’t—”
Lydia put her arm around Teresa, effectively distracting her. “Mutter, did you get the cake frosted?” The two walked to the far side of the kitchen.
Why did the twins seem nervous? Calling someone by the wrong name was common enough. Most everyone had done it. How many times had he been called by one of his brothers’ names? If he had a cookie for every time, he’d be fat.
Hannah spoke to Amos. “Why don’t you take your suitcase out to the barn? It’s going to take a few minutes to get everything on the table.”
Was she trying to distract him?
“All right.” He snagged the case and headed out to the barn. That had been strange. But then this had been a bit of a strange day. And he was surrounded by women who didn’t behave or think like men. They were mysterious creatures whose sole purpose was to confuse and distract men.
He set the case on his bed and saw, out of the corner of his eye, the tabby dart in. When he turned to look, the cat dashed back out. What had scared it? He leaned to look on the other side of the potbellied stove, where the cat had run from.
A tiny kitten with its eyes still closed was lying on the ground. It raised its wobbly head and let out a small mew.
Amos picked it up. “Where has your mutter gone?” It seemed females of all species acted strange. He stepped out of the room and scanned the dim interior of the barn.
From the hayloft, the tabby trotted down the slanted ladder with another kitten hanging from her mouth. She ignored Amos and darted into his room. She quickly came back out and meowed at him. Then she put her paws on his leg and meowed again.
“I have your little one.” He crouched down and she took the kitten from him.
He followed her into the tack room. “How many little ones do you have?”
She obviously liked the warmth of the stove for her babies. She looked from him to beside the stove and back again.
He waved his hand. “Go on. Get the others. I’m not going to make you sleep in the cold.”
She darted out.
Amos snagged an unused crate, put in a layer of straw and then an old towel. By the time the mutter cat returned with number three, Amos had the crate with the two kittens in it next to the heat.
The tabby peered over the edge of the box, jumped in with the third kitten and lay down.
“I’ll figure out how to keep the door open and stay warm later.”
When he headed back to the house, all the girls sat silently at the table, hands folded in their laps. No one fluttered about. He could have waited until later to take out his suitcase. It didn’t matter now. He sat next to Sarah as before.
As well as Bartholomew, Teresa and one of the twins weren’t at the table. Which twin was here? She had the crease between her eyebrows, so she must be Hannah.
After the blessings, Hannah jumped right into conversation. “Now, tell me about the barn. Are you comfortable out there? If you would rather return home, I’m sure we can manage. You must miss your family.”
He actually didn’t miss his family as much as he’d imagined he might, and he preferred the barn to home. Maybe leaving the community wouldn’t be as hard as he anticipated. “I’m quite comfortable. Danki.”
Hannah continued, “We wouldn’t want to keep you or put your parents in a bad position by insisting you stay.”
He glanced around the table. Except for Deborah and Miriam, the younger girls paid no attention to Hannah’s words. “My parents and brothers can manage quite well without me.” His brothers would be running the farm soon enough without him; they’d might as well start now.
Deborah glanced from Hannah to Miriam, seemingly trying to figure out things, as well. She shook her head and went back to eating.
Miriam stared hard at him and then stabbed a cooked carrot. “If you change yo
ur mind, we’ll understand.”
A distraction attempt? Now more than one sister appeared to be trying to get rid of him. Eligible women were always trying to get rid of him. Women were strange indeed. “I won’t. I promised Bishop Bontrager that I would work here while your vater is recovering.” If he wasn’t planning to leave altogether, he might be tempted to ask Bartholomew if he wanted to hire him on afterward to help ease his burden.
Neither Hannah nor Miriam seemed pleased with his answer. Didn’t they want their vater to have help?
Typical strange behavior for women.
* * *
The following Monday, Deborah studied Amos as he watched Miriam. Her sister stood at the clothesline hanging the laundry. She didn’t know he was observing her. And he didn’t know that Deborah was studying him.
How fortunate for Miriam to have someone look at her the way Amos did. Maybe someday someone would regard her in such a manner. But probably not. At least not in her Amish community. The only time she’d ever been noticed was in the Englisher world.
Tugging her coat closed, she slipped out past the garden that had been harvested and canned last summer and fall. Spring planting was still a couple of months off.
She hurried out to the cluster of bare sycamore trees near the pond at the edge of their property. After retrieving her backpack from the tangled base of the largest tree, she headed for the meeting spot. No one would miss her. They never did. Vater’s trip to the hospital had been proof of that.
Deborah tramped through the still-fallow field. This year would be the year this field was planted again. She came out the other side and dashed down the road. At the intersection, an idling car waited. She opened the passenger door and climbed in. Then she switched to English. “Sorry for making you wait.”
The older woman pointed toward Deborah’s seat belt. “I don’t go anywhere until your seat belt is on.”
Deborah grabbed the belt, pulled it and snapped it into place. One of the many differences between automobile travel and riding in a buggy.
The woman put her car into gear and pulled out onto the road. “I thought you might not be coming, and I was about to leave.”
