by Mary Ellis
James rubbed his palms together in anticipation. “Let’s get the hamper, Emma, and put our stuff on the table. I am starving.” He took her arm as they headed toward their buggy.
Emma waited until they were away from the crowd before she whispered into his ear, “Leave the hamper and cooler, Jamie, and please hitch up the horse. I’m taking that food to my mamm’s.”
“Your mamm’s?” he squawked. “It’ll take us two hours to get to your parents’. Everybody in our district is here and the food is ready to eat.”
She thought she heard his stomach growl to emphasize his point. “Please, Jamie? Can’t we go see my family this afternoon? It’s been weeks and I miss them so much.” She wrung her hands together.
He met her gaze and smiled. “Okay, Emma. Someday I’ll be able to say no to you, hopefully by the time I’m fifty But today isn’t the day, so let’s go visit your folks.” He handed her up into the buggy. “It’s been a while since your daed grilled me on my Deutsch lessons.”
After hitching up their ornery horse, they started the long drive to Winesburg. Emma had plenty of time to mull over the fact that she’d told only half the truth. The real reason she didn’t want to stay for the afternoon socialization was that her new district intimidated her. Did they have to be so vocal, so loud about their faith? Testifying about personal struggles and shouting “amen” was hard to get used to. Emma much preferred a quieter session with God without creating so much fuss.
Matthew had never been so happy to see his sister as that Sunday when the Davis buggy pulled up the Miller driveway. He had missed Emma plenty since she’d married and moved to her husband’s family farm. But if Emma were there, James would be too. And he needed to talk to an Englischer, or rather, a former Englischer.
In the week since he’d seen Jeff Andrews doing something suspicious at work, he couldn’t think about much else. Andrews treated him the same as always—brusque but civil. He had no idea his actions had been observed. What else was the guy up to behind Mr. Mac’s back? Matthew had heard some talk in the bunkhouse, where the hired help took their meals, but he hadn’t paid much attention. He’d figured those kinds of shady dealings happened near the big horse racing centers in Kentucky and New York, but not in Holmes County, Ohio. And certainly not on a farm where he worked.
“Hi, Emma,” he called. She was walking his way with arms outstretched.
“Guder nachmittag, Matthew,” she said, wrapping him in a warm hug.
He felt his face turn red enough to blend his freckles together.
“Have you lost weight? Maybe you’ve grown taller. I hope you’re not working too hard between your chores here and at Mr. Mac’s farm.” She finally released her embrace. “I’ve brought a noodle casserole. You’d better eat some or my feelings will be hurt.” Emma rattled on, kissed his cheek, and then headed toward the house to find mamm. She didn’t wait to hear any replies.
James Davis had been studying the reunion. “I’ll bet now that she’s married you can get a word in edgewise around the house.” He stuck out his hand. “Good to see you, Matty.”
Matthew shook heartily. “When Emma moved out, Leah took up the slack in the talking department. She always has a story to tell about that diner she works at.”
“Speaking of food, has your family eaten yet? I’m starving! Emma gave me only one peach to tide me over.”
“Jah, we’ve eaten, but Ma always keeps things warm. She figured you two would show up today, but I have no idea how.”
They walked toward the house, talking like old friends. Matthew couldn’t get over the change in James. Each time he saw him he looked a bit more Plain. Even his deep suntan was gone since now he kept his hat on while working outdoors. Only his accent gave him away. He would probably never sound Amish even when he mastered their mixed language. But that was no big thing. The guy loved Emma enough to leave his worldly conveniences behind, and that meant a lot to Matthew. He didn’t care if he never understood a word his brother-in-law spoke in German. He just hoped he could find someone to love that much some day. But in the meantime he had more important fish to fry.
He waited until James had eaten plenty of fried chicken, steamed greens, noodle casserole, and cheesy potatoes. Then Matthew said, “Say, Jamie, let’s walk out to the barn. There’s something I’d like to show you.”
“Sure,” James readily agreed. “These women will be jaw-boning for hours.”
True enough, Leah was rapid-firing tales from her new job while mamm slipped in news and gossip from the district when Leah came up for air. Emma kept up with both lines of conversation effortlessly, throwing in appropriate comments and asking questions of each. The three seemed to be competing in a talk-a-thon.
“They won’t even notice we’re gone,” James said as they left the kitchen.
Matthew waited until they reached the fence line to speak.” I need some advice, Jamie. I saw something at work I didn’t much like, but I’m not anxious to cause a stink and get fired. Jobs aren’t easy to find in this county, and jobs working with horses are plumb impossible.”
He glanced over at James. He’d pulled up a weed to chew but wasn’t about to interrupt.
“I saw the trainer that I apprentice under inject something into a colt’s leg. I figured it had to be steroids—maybe to reduce some swelling. The colt pulled a muscle during a workout. The trainer ain’t supposed to be giving injections, but I think he didn’t want the owners to see their expensive horse limping when they came to visit.”
James scratched at his chin. His beard was well trimmed and growing longer all the time. “He could do more harm than good if he doesn’t inject it exactly into the correct spot. That’s why a vet or vet technician usually administers shots. What are you going to do? Could you talk to him privately? He’ll lose his trainer’s license if word gets out.”
“He and I aren’t exactly pals. I doubt he would appreciate me bringing up the subject.” Matthew watched two hawks circling the pasture. “I don’t rightly know what to do.”
James rested one boot on the bottom fence rail. “You gotta do what’s right…eventually. But I wouldn’t be hasty. Don’t stir up a hornet’s nest over what might be nothing.”
“Thanks. It helps to tell somebody. It’s been eating away at me.”
But, truthfully, he was no closer to knowing what to do than he was a week ago.
Leah felt ninety years old one Tuesday morning in May, but she didn’t dare catch an extra forty winks of sleep. Yesterday she’d finished the family laundry almost single-handedly and had baked for both her family and the restaurant. At noon, April would pick her up in her truck for a whirlwind lesson on shopping for a diner. They planned to visit a local butcher, produce vendor, and stop for lunch at the buffet to see what the competition was doing. Leah swallowed two aspirin, rubbed lotion into her reddened hands, and hurried downstairs.
Julia had breakfast almost ready. “Guder mariye,” she said. “I’ll bet you slept well last night.” She set a bowl of scrambled eggs and plate of bacon on the table.
“I would’ve helped you, mamm. You should’ve waited.” Leah reached for a piece of toast.
“I’m not helpless. I can still cook breakfast for my family…unless you only eat fancy recipes these days.” Julia winked at her across the table.
“Nothing’s very fancy in our diner. The kitchen’s too small. I can’t wait until daed brings you to town to try it out.”
“He said he’ll wait for you to work out the kinks on unsuspecting folk and then we’ll stop in.”
Leah and her mother shared a hearty laugh. “This afternoon I’m going shopping with April. Is that all right?”
“Jah, but don’t make a habit of going off every Tuesday. That wasn’t what we agreed upon.”
“Don’t worry. She’s just giving me an idea of how she runs things.” Leah sipped her coffee and enjoyed a meal cooked by someone else for a change. After washing the breakfast dishes, she had enough time to sweep the floor, iron som
e shirts and dresses, and bake two Dutch apple pies.
When April picked her up promptly at noon, Leah’s education in restaurant supply began in earnest. They visited a poultry farm and a beef processor but placed only small orders because their freezer space was limited. In both cases April signed her name to a paper instead of giving cash or writing a check.
“Why did they let you leave without paying?” Leah asked in a whisper.
“I’ve set up accounts here,” April explained while they loaded the meat into ice chests. “It’s how the world does business. It’s so much easier.”
“How did you learn all this?”
“I took a course on business administration and another on restaurant management at the community college. I loved going to school, but my husband said a couple classes should be enough.”
Leah nodded. She had loved school too and had wished an Amish education didn’t stop after the eighth grade. But like her daed said, “Just because you stop going to school doesn’t mean you have to stop learning.” She would get quite an education at the diner.
“It’s been almost four weeks that you’ve worked for me. How do you like the job so far?” April asked once they were back on the county road.
“I love it!” Leah answered without hesitation. “At first I didn’t like all that chitchatting with the customers, but I’m getting used to it. Everybody sure wants to talk, don’t they.”
April laughed. “Yeah, they do. Farming is a solitary occupation, so when they come to town they want company. And the Amish young men like talking to you, but that has nothing to do with them being surrounded by draft horses all day.”
Leah pursed her lips. “Well, what does it have to do with?” She wasn’t sure she liked where the conversation was headed.
“I know Old Order doesn’t spend much time looking at themselves in mirrors, but you do have a hand mirror, don’t you?”
Leah turned on the seat and frowned. “Of course I do.”
April glanced at her from the corner of her eye and then refocused on the road. “You’re very pretty, Leah. Why else do you think all these young men keep stopping in?”
Leah crossed her arms and stared out the window. Spring was in glorious full bloom. Every tree had opened with thousands of tender green leaves. “I thought they enjoyed our cooking. You said folk like my pies.”
“Yes, that’s part of it.”
“My sister, Emma, is the pretty one. I planned to have a career in case I don’t find somebody to marry.” She stole a glance at her boss.
“There’s nothing wrong with being pretty as long as it doesn’t go to your head. And I don’t think you should worry about not finding a husband.”
“Where are we going now?” Leah was eager to change the subject. They turned down a township road not far from the one on which she lived.
“We’re going right here.” April pulled down a tree-lined lane that led to a tidy white farmhouse and smaller dawdi haus. The absence of power lines indicated Old Order, while a windmill to pump water to the house from the well meant they weren’t the more conservative Swartzentrubers.
“What are we buying?” Huge fenced pastures, rolling as far as one could see, plus a very long one-story barn indicated a dairy operation.
“Cheese,” April replied. “The woman who lives here makes the best cheese. At least she used to. She’s getting up there in years, but she made a yogurt-cultured cheese that’s wonderful to bake with.”
Leah’s interest was piqued. “I think I sampled some once at a work frolic.”
When they climbed out of the truck, April peered around and then instructed, “You go to the dairy barn. I’ll check up at the house and back garden. This time of year she could be anywhere.”
Leah wandered down the well-worn path to the barn. Inhaling deeply, she breathed in the honeysuckle growing along the trellis. She kept her distance from the rest of the blossoms. Because the door stood ajar, Leah figured this was where the elderly lady might be and walked in boldly. “Hello?” She cupped her hands around her mouth and hollered, “Is anybody here?”
“Jah, what’s all the yelling about?” A tall, dark-haired young man stood up with a scrub brush in one hand. He wasn’t more than ten feet away, but he had been hidden from view by a half wall.
They locked gazes and stared at one another until Leah glanced away, blushing. “Beg your pardon. I was looking for an older woman. That’s why I was speaking loudly.”
He scratched at his clean-shaven chin. “Do you shout at all old people or just at my mammi?” Dimples deepened in his olive-toned complexion.
With nearly black hair, he had a Mediterranean appearance, or how she pictured people living in the Holy Land might look. Except for his clear blue eyes. They grabbed her attention and held on to it like thistle burrs on cotton socks. She couldn’t turn away. “I believe she’s the first mammi I’ve ever yelled at. I thought she might be hard of hearing.”
The man set his brush on the wall and then wiped his hands on a towel. “Oh, no, not at all. She has uncannily good hearing. Don’t try to whisper something behind her back or it will never stay a secret.”
Leah giggled unwittingly. “I’ll keep that in mind. What are you doing?” She glanced around but saw no livestock.
“I’m scrubbing down the equipment with bleach—sterilizing it so it’ll be ready for the next milking.”
Leah again peered around. “But where are your cows?”
“They’re out in the pasture eating grass like good cows are supposed to. Do you live in town or something? Maybe over the grocery store or behind the grain elevator?”
Leah blushed to the roots of her hair. Truthfully, she had no idea why she was asking such inane questions, but the mysterious man with piercing blue eyes had caught her off guard. “No, I live on a farm,” she said, rubbing her forehead, “but I keep mainly to the house due to my allergies.”
“Jah, that makes sense.” He walked around the half wall until he stood only five feet away. She had to tilt her head to look up at him, and she noticed that he had big hands and very broad shoulders. She couldn’t stop herself from staring.
He stared back with one eyebrow lifted questioningly. “What are you doing, miss? Why are you searching for my grandmother?” He slipped his hands beneath his suspenders.
“Oh, sorry. I was looking for her to buy some kind of oddball cheese. April—that’s my boss—said it’s a variety of artsy cheese. She bought it from her a while back. My boss went up to the house and sent me in this direction.” The tickle in Leah’s nasal passages that she’d been fighting back had grown unbearable. Suddenly she released an explosive “Ah choo!”
“Gesundheit! My mammi never sets foot inside a barn unless it’s something mighty urgent.”
Leah felt her nose start to run in an unladylike fashion while her eyes began to itch. The animal dander in the air had found its mark. She sneezed again while her eyes watered as though she were crying over a sad story.
“Let’s step out into fresh air.” He practically dragged her outside as she held a handkerchief over her nose.
They walked away from the barn toward the pasture fence. Leah tried to focus through blurry vision. “Danki,” she murmured, sucking air into her lungs. “Much better out here.”
“Well…there they are,” he said in lazy fashion.
“Who?” Leah asked, glancing left and right.
“My cows, of course. Two hundred head of them, doing exactly what I had predicted.”
Leah focused on where he pointed, even though occupants of pastures seldom held much interest. There—grazing, frisking, wandering aimlessly, or lying in the shade—were more Holstein cows than she’d ever seen before on an Amish farm. She counted at least three dozen calves. “My goodness. Aren’t you Old Older, same as me? Do you milk all those cows by hand?”
He appeared to be biting the inside of his cheek. “No, I have equipment powered by a diesel generator. We run generators for the milking apparatus but
don’t use them for anything else.”
“What about keeping the milk cold?”
He leaned both forearms on the fence rail. With his sleeves rolled up from cleaning chores, Leah could see his arms were tanned and muscular.
“We have one gas-powered cooling tank for the milk we turn into yogurt cheese. But it would cost too much in diesel fuel to provide refrigeration for grade-A milk certification. We sell our milk to cheese producers same as most Amish except for what my mamm uses to make specialty cheeses.” He studied her from the corner of his eye.
“Jah, that’s why we stopped here today.” Leah tucked her handkerchief back up her sleeve; the sneezing fit had subsided.
Just then April and another woman appeared around the corner of the barn. “There you are!” April called, sounding relieved. “I feared you’d fallen into a milk tank or worse.”
Leah felt guilty for no reason and thought she should explain. “I couldn’t find the lady you wanted, but I found her grandson.” She pointed him out so there would be no confusion.
The grandson tipped his hat and walked by Leah’s side as they approached the two women. “She found me fair and square, but I really wasn’t trying to hide,” he said.
Everyone but Leah laughed. Is it possible to say anything today that doesn’t make me sound like a ninny?
“This is my mamm, Joanna Byler. She is the one who makes the oddball cheeses now that mammi has retired.”
“Oddball?” Mrs. Byler demanded. “There’s nothing oddball about my cheese.” She smiled but placed both hands on her hips.
Leah’s mouth went dry. “I meant artistic, ma’am. Didn’t mean no offense.”
Joanna’s brows knitted together over the bridge of her nose. “Artistic? Like one of those painters who wear funny hats and dab paint on an easel?”
April furrowed her forehead. “You’ll have to excuse her. Leah’s newly hired and just learning the terminology of the business.”
