As Ben sat down, everyone relaxed and finished dessert. Miriam hoped this terse discussion wouldn’t shorten the afternoon’s visiting—although it wouldn’t be unusual for the young people to go their own ways to socialize after the dishes were cleaned up. Bowls were being scraped and satisfied sighs escaped a few folks—and then a little voice broke the silence.
“Can I have another one of those lime bars?” Brett asked Rhoda in a loud whisper. “They’re wonderful-gut, ain’t so?”
Rhoda rumpled Brett’s hair as she reached for the cookie platter. “We’ll be bakin’ those again, I can see.”
“That hot fudge cake was awesome,” Taylor chimed in. “You’ve warned us about eating two desserts, Mamma, but if I could have just one more spoonful—”
“Honey-lamb, ya cleaned up your plate, so you can have whatever your dear little heart desires,” Jerusalem replied quickly. As she extended the warm cake pan across the table, her face lit up. “That was our mamm’s recipe from a long time ago, and it’s still one of my favorites.”
Taylor grinned, grabbing her spoon. “The macaroni and goat cheese was really gut, too,” she said. “Even though I wondered about it when I heard the goat part.”
Everyone laughed then, and the Hooley sisters clasped each other’s hands in delight. “Oh, if you’d meet our little goats, you’d love them just as we do,” Nazareth said. “And the three girl goats are gonna have their kids any day now.”
“Can we go see them?” Brett asked eagerly. He looked from his dat to Rhoda with expressive brown eyes. “Can we have goats, too, after we move here?”
Andy gazed at Rhoda with such love that Miriam could feel the strong current running between them. “One thing at a time, son,” he replied. “But if your new mamm says it’s all right, we’ll figure out where to put them.”
“If ya want a little practice at tendin’ goats, to see if ya really like them, we’d welcome your help,” Nazareth replied with an encouraging smile. “We keep our four in Bishop Tom’s barn, ya know. Right there amongst his horses and dairy cows.”
As the two children and the aunts talked about their animals, the harmony and goodwill Miriam craved was restored. After the desserts made it around the table again, she and the other women began scraping plates while the fellows made their way to the front room to visit by the fireplace.
The next couple of hours passed in pleasant chatter as Miriam and her girls washed dishes and put away the leftovers with the help of the Hooley sisters, Nellie, and Annie Mae. It had been a long while since she’d cleaned up after a meal for seventeen, but she was happy to have her three daughters—and young Taylor and Betty—talking together as their many hands made light work of so many pots, pans, and dishes.
As they were wiping the countertops, Miriam noted that it was nearly dark outside, and not yet five o’clock. Soon Bishop Tom would be leaving to milk his cows and the others would start home, as well. Such a blessing it was that everyone she loved lived within sight of her and Ben’s new home....
A movement at the kitchen door caught her eye. There stood Luke, beckoning Annie Mae with a crook of his finger. After the way Annie Mae had stood up to the younger Hooleys during dinner, Miriam wondered how long she would continue to come every time Luke called.
It might still be winter, but things are heating up all over Willow Ridge....
Chapter Five
“Would ya get a load of this?” Matthias slowed his horse’s pace as he and Adam peered out the buggy’s windows. They’d spent the day in Clark visiting their sister Ruth and her family and had gotten a late start home. “I thought Higher Ground had to be in this area.”
“Can’t miss it, either, what with that big sign at the road,” Adam remarked as he leaned forward for a better look. The stone marker with HIGHER GROUND carved in large letters seemed awfully grandiose, to his way of thinking. “And electrical poles. Now that’s interesting.”
As Adam scanned the rolling, snow-covered landscape, he took in the homes under construction on the hillside. One structure had to be a schoolhouse . . . a row of brick buildings sat close to the road. Stores, perhaps? Considering how Amish folks almost always had their businesses on their home property, Higher Ground had a very unusual layout. “We’re on the back side of Morning Star, ain’t so?”
“Jah. A lot of different Mennonite groups live out this way,” Matthias replied. “So Hiram’s no doubt sayin’ that God found him this big plot of land where he could set up amongst other Plain families—”
“Surely he won’t be the bishop,” Adam interrupted as his mind kept spinning. “Folks around these parts all know how he was kicked out of Willow Ridge for not confessing about that car in his barn.”
“Who knows what stories Hiram’s been tellin’ them?” Matthias countered with a sigh. “I can’t imagine anybody would come to his new town—except folks from other states who don’t know what he’s been up to.”
Adam pointed to a large house on the highest rise, which appeared to be nearly completed. “What do you want to bet that’s his place? And the other building will probably be the new barn for his Belgians.”
“How do ya suppose the foundations of these buildings will hold up, what with the concrete bein’ poured in the snow and cold weather? It’s a puzzle all the way around—especially with his house in Willow Ridge sittin’ empty,” his brother speculated. “I figured the underhanded real estate fella that found him this land would’ve put up a FOR SALE sign at Hiram’s other place by now.”
“Jah, it’s not gut for a house to be left untended,” Adam remarked. “Even if two-legged vandals aren’t involved, there might be all manner of coons or rats gettin’ inside to do their damage, once they figure out nobody’ll shoo them off.”
As the dusk settled around their buggy, Adam continued to gaze at the new settlement—and then he let out a gasp. “Streetlights just blinked on! Now that’s different!”
“Seen enough?” Matthias asked.
“Jah,” Adam replied, although he was still very curious about this settlement. “We don’t want to seem like we’re checking the place out. Hiram’s likely to come down and ask if we’re prospective new residents.”
“Puh! He’d know better when he saw who we are.” Matthias clapped the reins lightly across Herbert’s broad back.
That doesn’t mean he wouldn’t give us a pitch . . . or an earful, Adam thought as the buggy rolled on down the road. The truth was that he didn’t trust Hiram Knepp anymore, and that was the saddest thing a man could say about the bishop who’d led their church district for so many years.
As they left the cluster of stores in the English section of Morning Star and then passed into open countryside again, Adam let go of his troublesome thoughts concerning Hiram. God was in charge of this situation, so they should allow it to play out—and he had a workweek ahead of him. Even though their older sister Ruth had crammed their cooler with leftovers, that didn’t take care of the dirty shirts and pants piling up in the mudroom. . . .
“So you’ll be working on that English fella’s tack tomorrow?” Adam asked. “I’ve got a floor to refinish, but I could probably start the laundry on Tuesday—”
“And I’ll let ya do that, too!” Matthias replied as he turned on the buggy’s lights. “So I suppose it’s only fair that I wash that mountain of dirty dishes piled in the sink—but it’s Sunday,” he added with a laugh. “So they’ll all have to wait until tomorrow.”
Adam sighed inwardly. The two of them were good at letting the household chores slide, even if they realized that living in such a messy house only added to their sense of despair.
But as he and Matthias pulled off the county blacktop onto Bishop’s Ridge Road, his mood improved. They had horses to feed and water troughs to fill, jobs that gave them a sense of purpose because even on the Sabbath their animals needed tending. When his brother pulled Herbert to a halt beside their barn, Adam hopped out of the buggy. Their visit to Ruth’s house, where nieces and nephews an
d good food had lifted his spirits, had been a welcome respite from his day-to-day life with Matthias in this very quiet house. Yet he was feeling an inner itch lately . . . a frustrating need for his life to change.
When he saw the blinking red message light on the barn’s wall phone, Adam quickly lit the lantern and then tapped the PLAY button.
“Jah, Adam, it’s Micah. Just got back from visitin’ at Miriam and Ben’s place, and it seems Rhoda’s Andy will need the livin’ quarters of his building finished sooner than he thought. We could sure use your help with that, hopefully this week. Gimme a call. Bye.”
Andy’s pulse thrummed. Inside work, close to home, was the best kind this time of year. He was reaching for the receiver to return Micah’s call, but another message began playing.
“Adam, it’s Tom, and I hope you fellas had a gut visit with your sister today.” The bishop’s voice filled the barn with a sense of calm and peace . . . an authority Adam respected. Here was a man who’d endured all manner of trials and tribulations with his ex-wife and Hiram, yet he resonated with an unshakable faith. “What with Nazareth and me gettin’ hitched in the near future, I’m hopin’ you can freshen my place up with some paint—say, within the next month or so. We can talk about it over breakfast sometime this week—my treat. Denki, Adam.”
Adam was tickled to hear that Bishop Tom and Nazareth Hooley would soon tie the knot—maybe there’s hope for you and Matthias after all. He laughed at that thought as he again reached up to punch in Micah Brenneman’s number.
But another message began to play. “Adam, I recall your attention to detail and your reasonable rates when you did the finishing work inside the Sweet Seasons Café, so you’re the man I hope to hire as we complete our first buildings in Higher Ground. I’m willing to pay double—even triple—what you usually charge because it’s imperative that these homes and stores look attractive to our incoming residents. They’ll begin arriving in a couple of weeks, so please call me now.”
Hiram Knepp. Adam swallowed hard, staring at the receiver as though their former bishop might suddenly pop out of it. Was it coincidence that Hiram had called on the same afternoon he and Matthias had passed through Higher Ground?
We Amish don’t believe in coincidence or chance, he reminded himself. It’s God at work again, fulfilling His purpose. . . .
Annie Mae said her good-byes at Miriam and Ben’s place and slipped into her heavy black coat and bonnet. As she stepped outside into the dusk, her thoughts were spinning like the dry leaves caught in a little whirlwind in the corner of the front porch. Not once in these past four weeks had Luke come by to see her, nor had he paid her any particular attention the few times he’d eaten in the Sweet Seasons. While she’d been tired after her busy days of waiting tables, she would have welcomed Luke’s company . . . long moonlight rides and warm, eager kisses like they’d shared before.
But if Luke thought he could pull her strings any time it suited him, after ignoring her for so long, well—two could play that game. She’d considered turning him down this evening. But maybe this ride would give her a chance to fetch a few things from the house . . . if Dat hadn’t already cleared everything out.
She clambered into the enclosed buggy while Luke finished hitching up his horse. It seemed like a good idea to let Luke speak first . . . to see if he apologized or explained, or continued in the same arrogant tone he’d used during dinner.
Luke hopped inside and slid the buggy door shut. His breath escaped in wisps of vapor as he instructed his horse to back up . . . then told the gelding to turn left when they reached the county blacktop. He looked over at her, his eyebrows rising. “You’re mighty quiet, Annie Mae. Had enough talk about preachers and church for one day?”
She shrugged, remaining on the far side of the seat as she glanced out the window. The snow-covered countryside appeared silvery as darkness fell around them.
After a few moments of her silence, Luke let out an exasperated sigh. “Look, things got sticky at dinner, sure. But Saint Bennie was conveniently forgettin’ that he didn’t marry until he was thirty-five—and that he only joined the church when he thought he was gonna hitch up with a gal back in Lancaster, years ago.”
Annie Mae considered this information, which sounded as though Luke was making excuses for himself.
“And ya surely realize that Ira didn’t mean anything by it when he got to talkin’ about your dat and the money he was makin’ with his Belgians.”
So if he didn’t mean anything, why’d he say it? Dat’s money went back into his business, so it’s not like we lived any better than anyone else.
It was too soon to shut Luke down, however—especially before they got to the topic she was most interested in. “Everybody around here talks about Dat,” she murmured. “And why wouldn’t they, after finding out about his car and then hearing how God told him to start up a new town?”
Luke guided the horse down the snow-packed gravel road that ran past Bishop Tom’s dairy farm. After a few more moments of silence, he gazed at her more intently. “So what’s the bee in your bonnet, missy? I thought you’d be glad to get away from Miriam’s and all the boring chitchat about—”
“Ya haven’t exactly been bangin’ down the door to take me out lately,” Annie Mae pointed out. “I keep lookin’ out the apartment window of an evening, but—”
“Miriam would be watchin’ us like a hawk.”
“You’re afraid of her?” Oh, but she wasn’t buying into this horse hockey. Not when Luke was a grown man, running his own business.
“Of course I’m not afraid of her,” Luke snapped. “We just don’t need her pokin’ into our relationship—speakin’ of which, why’d you start workin’ for her, when we’d talked about you runnin’ the salesroom in my mill?”
“You won’t be open for weeks yet!” Annie Mae blurted. “I can’t sit around twiddlin’ my thumbs—I have a sister to look after. I don’t expect anybody to pay my way just because Dat up and left, ya know.”
This conversation was getting on her nerves—not so much what Luke was saying, but what he wasn’t saying, and his tone. He’d expected her to come running to the mill, pleading for a job that didn’t exist. That would cause talk, her working for two unmarried fellows! She was trying to stay out of the gossip now, while so many tongues were wagging about Higher Ground and what the excommunicated bishop of Willow Ridge might try next.
“Let’s go by the house,” Annie Mae suggested, hoping this sounded like a favor rather than an order. Luke and Ira noticed right off when women nagged . . . or maybe they didn’t care about anyone’s opinions and needs, other than their own.
Luke frowned. “Why would you want to poke around there? We could go to—”
“That was my home, Luke—until Christmas,” she retorted. “I haven’t even been past it since Nellie and I walked out. Has Dat moved all the furniture?”
“I have no idea. It’s none of my beeswax.”
Annie Mae bit back a smart remark. Wasn’t it funny how Luke was interested in his own business, but didn’t show an inkling of curiosity or compassion about her life since her apple cart had been overturned? “If he hasn’t cleared everything out, I—I want the sewing machine. Would ya help me get it?”
Luke stared at her in the deepening shadows. “You’d really take stuff?”
“Puh! I don’t see my dat sewing up clothes anytime soon. Nellie needs new dresses.” Was Luke being exceptionally dense, or was she losing her sense of perspective?
On the other hand, it did seem a little nervy to help herself to whatever Dat had left behind . . . and what if her father had rigged up one of his security cameras from the Belgian barn, to catch whoever might slip inside the unoccupied house? If Dat got wind of her going there, no matter how practical her reason, Annie Mae knew he would punish her for it.
But why was it wrong to want one useful piece, which had belonged to her and Nellie’s mamm rather than to Linda, Dat’s second wife? It wasn’t as if she wanted to t
ake things and sell them for the money. . . .
“Wouldn’t you rather go to Higher Ground?” Luke asked. “You could check on the kids.”
Just that fast, at the mention of Joey and Josh, Timmy and Sara, Annie Mae had to blink away tears. It wouldn’t do to cry, because Luke would think she was manipulating him. “I want to see those wee ones more than anything on this Earth,” she rasped. “But I can’t suddenly show up and then upset them when I have to leave. And where would we look for them?”
She paused to get better control of her quivering voice. “It’s not a gut idea to go snoopin’ around in Higher Ground,” she insisted softly. “Who knows if Dat’s built a house, or—if ya don’t want to take me to Bishop’s Ridge, I’ll ask Ben or—”
“Hey, it’s no big deal. We’ll head up this next road and be there in a few,” Luke replied tersely. Then he cleared his throat, and his face took on the playful slyness Annie Mae remembered from when they used to run the roads late at night. “So . . . what’ll I get in return for doin’ ya this favor, missy?”
Oh, but his low tone brought to mind long, slow kisses . . . lessons only an older man could teach . . . sweet whispered words that had made her feel special. Beautiful. Good enough to become Luke Hooley’s wife—or had she been fooling herself all along? His thoughts on staying single, to escape responsibility and commitment, had come out loud and clear when Bishop Tom had talked about picking a new preacher.
But Annie Mae didn’t want to miss this chance to fetch the sewing machine. She didn’t have a buggy at her disposal—couldn’t possibly lift the awkward treadle machine by herself. She didn’t really want to bother Ben for help, either, although he’d told her he’d do anything she needed.
“What’ll you get in return?” she echoed, hoping to maintain Luke’s playful interest. “I guess we’ll find out, ain’t so?”
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