Never Far From Home (The Miller Family 2)

by Mary Ellis

  Hannah sometimes felt selfish praying for a baby that might never come. Perhaps she should accept God’s will and devote herself to the family she’d been given. Then she remembered Elizabeth in the Bible, barren for years and finally becoming pregnant when very old. If it be Your will, Lord, please don’t make me wait that long.

  Second, the unexpected visit from her niece hadn’t set well with her. Emma had come asking questions about the new lambs, but Hannah quickly suspected another matter had motivated the girl to hike the mile between the farms. Emma had just attended her first social event. At first her amusing tales had reminded Hannah of her youth when everything seemed to conspire against a young woman. Emma had lost her new tennis shoes and had to come home in a worn, ill-fitting pair. She had dribbled mustard down her dress in front of her girlfriends. And she had to leave the party early since Simon feared the old horse might become confused after dark. But when Emma mentioned that the sheep farmer from Charm had been there with his Amish friend, Hannah had grown uneasy.

  Emma was obviously looking for some sort of guidance or advice without asking specific questions. Emma needed to talk to her mother about these things. Yet Hannah knew Julia could sometimes be close-minded.

  “Talk to your mamm about running around barefoot,” Hannah had directed. “Ask your daed if Old Order members are allowed to court New Order during Rumschpringe,” she had advised. But when Emma asked if God loved Englischers as much as Amish folk, Hannah’s reply had needed no deliberation. “Of course He does, but God is happiest when we listen to His Word and are obedient.”

  That seemed to satisfy the girl, but it had left Hannah feeling guilty. She felt disloyal to Julia and fearful that her counseling might lead the girl astray.

  History had shown she was no expert on the district’s Ordnung.

  But how could she turn away her niece? She would not close off her relationship with Emma, because young people needed all the help they could get during this difficult period. Hannah would walk a careful line between the girl and Julia.

  With the laundry down and folded, Hannah carried the basket toward the house. She spotted Seth and Phoebe strolling through tall grass on their way home for supper. He’d taken his daughter wading in the river because today had been very warm for the first week of June. Even though they were still beyond earshot, Hannah could tell Phoebe was talking up a storm. Her small hands gestured wildly to punctuate her sentences.

  The sight warmed Hannah’s heart. As recently as last year the child had been mute, responding to questions with only shakes and nods of her head. If her animated speech was any indication, the little girl was fully healed.

  The three Millers met at the porch steps. “We took off our shoes and went in the creek up to our knees,” Phoebe exclaimed. “ Daed rolled up his pants and I held up my skirt. The water was cold, Ma.”

  She apparently hadn’t held up her skirt very well since the fabric below her knees was sodden. “I’ll bet the water still felt good, didn’t it?” Hannah asked, smiling. “Go in and change, Phoebe, and put that dress in the laundry basket.” Hannah turned her attention to Seth. His face was already tanned despite the fact he seldom went outdoors without his hat.

  “How soon before we eat?” he asked, toeing off his muddy boots on the porch. He would leave them outside by the door.

  “Eat? You just ate yesterday! Are you hungry again already?” Hannah loved to tease him about his hearty appetite.

  He winked and held the door open for her. “I can’t get enough of your good vittles, fraa. It’s all I think about out in the fields.”

  “Ha-ha,” she said. “My cooking is only an improvement over yours.” Hannah set down the laundry basket in the hallway. “For tonight I have pot roast with carrots and potatoes on low simmer. It should be done in ten minutes.”

  Seth headed straight to the refrigerator. “Turn up the heat,” he said, pouring them each a glass of iced tea. “I’ve got a meeting tonight. Let’s eat as soon as we can.”

  Hannah turned up the propane burner and began to slice up vegetables for a salad. “A meeting, you say? What about?” she asked. Weekday meetings were rare. Men usually talked enough after preaching services, as did women, not to need time away from chores or family.

  “The corn alliance. The county extension agent is coming out to discuss market conditions and tell us if any more land is available to lease in the area. The bishop should be there and probably both deacons.” Seth sat down at the table with his glass of tea.

  Hannah noticed he looked more tired than usual. Perhaps the warmer nights were interfering with his sleep and would take some getting use to. “In that case,” she said, scraping the vegetables into a bowl from the cutting board, “I’ll set the table and we’ll eat soon. We can drop Phoebe at Julia’s for Emma to watch and then be on our way. I wonder what my sister thinks about—”

  The expression on Seth’s face curtailed the remainder of her question. “There’s no reason for Phoebe to go to Julia’s. This meeting is for men.” He spoke stiffly as he arched his spine against the chair back.

  She pulled the roaster off the heat and cautiously lifted the lid. “I know better than to speak at one of these meetings, ehemann, but I see no harm in women sitting in the back, listening. I’ll be quiet as a mouse.”

  “I know you would be, but you cannot come, Hannah. The bishop said men only, so men only it will be.” Seth popped a baby carrot from the salad bowl into his mouth.

  Hannah pulled off her apron and tossed it down on the counter. “The decisions made at these secret meetings affect the women too. We need to know if families will be eating boiled potatoes with fried eggs all winter long. We could start putting away dried beef now to have later on.” To save time, she hacked the pot roast into smaller chunks while still in the pan.

  Seth scooped salad onto their plates for all of them. “No need to assume the worst. Have faith. And these meetings aren’t secret since I just told you about it.” He gazed at her with dark eyes both earnest and sympathetic.

  She speared a hunk of meat and transferred it to Seth’s plate. “I have plenty of faith. I’d just like to have some say-so for a change.” Her words slipped out unintended, making her sound petty and willful.

  Seth scooped carrots and celery from the pot and began to devour his dinner. He finished faster than usual, even though the roast was still rather tough. Hannah supposed his speed wasn’t solely due to the meeting.

  “I promise, Hannah, that I won’t go to bed until I tell you of any decisions made tonight. Then you can have your say-so to me for as long as you like.” He drained his tea in one long gulp.

  Hannah decided to let the matter drop. She called Phoebe, and the child started her dinner about the time Seth finished his. Hannah took her time picking at supper long after Seth was on his way to the gathering.

  Your will be done, Lord, not mine. She repeated the words silently over and over. Lately, it had become her most familiar prayer.

  “Jamie! Come in here. Your mom and I want a word with you, son.”

  James frowned. He had finally updated the computer program for the harvest forecasts and finished the daily ledgers, besides supervising the hookup of the new irrigation pump at the main pond. He’d hoped to take his horse, an Appaloosa gelding, for a trail ride into the hills. Nothing felt as satisfying as galloping across an open field on a beautiful June day. Or they would follow the shady woodland trail along the ridgeline where he could look out on the entire Tuscarawas River Valley.

  Graduation was over. He’d enjoyed prom night more than expected with a non-romantic date from his church youth group, he’d endured commencement exercises in a stifling hot gymnasium, and he was officially a high school graduate.

  His grandparents were proud of him.

  His parents had thrown him a party for “just a few close friends and relatives” that had ended up with more than a hundred people. But his one special guest hadn’t been there. He couldn’t chance sending her an in
vitation, not until he knew how her father would react. James was finally a free man with the entire summer before him, and all he could think about was Emma.

  “Jamie!” his dad called again from the house.

  James dutifully dismounted, tied his horse’s reins to a low-hanging branch, and went inside. His father was leaning against the kitchen sink while his mom sat at the glass-topped table with her Bible and papers spread out in front of her. “Preparing for your Sunday school class?” he asked.

  Barbara Davis taught a women’s class that was working their way through the Old Testament. She smiled at him over her half-moon reading glasses. “Among other things I’ve got started. I can’t seem to tackle one project at a time on my day off. I begin several at once and hope for the best.”

  “Oh, you’ll probably finish them all and paint the kitchen and sew up some new drapes,” he said, only half kidding. His mother loved to immerse herself in domestic projects whenever away from her stressful job as an emergency room nurse.

  She laughed, but his dad cleared his throat and put on a serious face. Barbara fished through her papers and pulled out a college catalog. “There’s something we gotta talk about, Jamie. Time is growing short.”

  James felt his enthusiasm for the afternoon slip away. Not this old argument again. “Ah, Ma,” he moaned, slumping into a chair.

  She smiled patiently, but James Sr. wasn’t so indulgent. “Hear you mother out, and don’t be rude, son.”

  “Yes, sir. Sorry.”

  “I know you didn’t want to think about more schooling during your senior year. And we let you alone about it…more or less,” she said, adding a wink. “But times are changing for farm managers same as for everybody else. And you’re too young to let new methods and technologies pass you by. It’ll hurt this farm’s productivity down the road.”

  James picked up the catalog she had pushed across the table. “Ohio State? I’ve been to Columbus and have no desire to live there. That is one big city.”

  Why couldn’t he make his parents understand college wasn’t for everybody? His older brother had received a bachelor’s in Theology and was now in seminary to become a pastor. His sister was an undergrad, currently applying to veterinary schools. He was certain his younger brother would go to college—his nose was always in a book. Couldn’t his parents be happy with three out of four of their children getting advanced degrees?

  “You wouldn’t have to move to Columbus,” James Sr. said. “The OSU Agricultural Extension is in Wooster, not that far away—less than an hour. You could probably schedule your classes into four days, and come home to the farm for long weekends.”

  “Take a look at the catalog, Jamie. There are many courses that sound fascinating,” Barbara added, double-teaming him with her husband.

  James leafed through the catalog and paused on one page of course listings. He grinned as he found what he’d been looking for. “Entomology of Indigenous Flora Subspecies, Engineering Technology, and Applied Sciences of Agricultural Natural Resources. Do those sound interesting to you?” James asked, rolling his eyes. “They sound like a remedy for insomnia to me.”

  His dad’s dimple deepened slightly in his cheek, but his stoic demeanor soon returned. “Well, don’t sign up for those, but there are plenty of other classes that’ll help you become a better farmer. You’ve got a lot to learn, son, and I’m not the one to teach you. I’m old school. If you want to survive as a farmer with the challenges out there in the twenty-first century, you’ll need help. And if you’re serious about taking this place off my hands so I can retire someday, then prove it to me.”

  James knew he couldn’t argue with anything his father was saying. And the silver in his dad’s hair, the slight limp to his walk, only underscored the fact that James Sr. wouldn’t be able to run Hollyhock Farms forever.

  James Jr. exhaled a pent-up breath. “I’ll look over the catalog, but don’t plan on me going away for four years…maybe two. And that’s if I can stay awake that long.”

  The joy on his parents’ faces was undeniable.

  Honor thy father and mother. God commanded it, and James wished to comply more than anything. His folks had always been more than fair while he was growing up. And they had never asked for anything in return. How could he deny them this? Even if it meant going to school for two or more years, he knew he would do it to please them.

  And what about sweet Emma Miller of Winesburg? He was young and she was even younger. Would she be willing to wait for him to finish agricultural college?

  He knew that Amish girls married young—or at least began courting seriously by eighteen. They had only just met, and now he would be stuck up in Wooster most of the time. The only encouraging thought was that Winesburg was on his way to and from the college.

  “I’ll read this through tonight,” he said, realizing his parents were watching him intently.

  “There’s a website where you can complete a preliminary application online. Then they’ll send the rest out in the mail,” his mom said. “Do it tonight, Jamie. It’s already June. Time’s a’wasting. They’ll close enrollment, or some of the good classes might fill up. Then you will be stuck with Entomology of Indigenous Flora Subspecies.”

  Both his parents laughed while James felt like a bull fenced up in a tiny pasture. They had gone from “at least give it some thought” to “fill out the application tonight and email it in” within the space of fifteen minutes.

  His dad put his cap back on and headed outside to chores. James dug around in the refrigerator looking for a soda and the bag of carrots for his horse.

  “I thought you were going for a trail ride,” Barbara said without looking up. She had already returned to her Sunday school preparations.

  “I am, but there’s something I wanted to ask you after Dad left.”

  She peered at him over her reading glasses.

  “Amish people,” he continued. “They’re Christians same as us, right?” He popped open the soda can, trying to look casual.

  Barbara thought for a moment before answering. “Yes, son. They have a slightly different approach to obtaining salvation that emphasizes earthly good works and self-sacrifice, but they use the same Bible and believe the same fundamentals.”

  “Okay. Thanks.” He started for the screen door feeling immensely relieved.

  She lifted an eyebrow. “Why do you ask, Jamie?”

  He glanced back at her. “I was just curious. You know I have a good friend, Sam Yoder, who’s Amish. And I ran into an Amish girl at the volleyball party. I just wanted to know what they believed.” He hurried out to where he had tied his gelding before she could ask him more questions.

  Or before he revealed something he couldn’t even admit to himself.

  Emma knew it was wrong to use the term “miracle” to refer to something most people would dismiss as insignificant. Miracles should be reserved for witnessing the hand of God in a manner that defied the logical outcome. But to Emma, that was exactly what seemed to have happened in her life.

  She’d heard from Sarah after preaching service that many young people were going on a canoe trip on the Mohican River in Loudonville. The all-day social event would involve mostly older courting couples and their English friends. Since the town of numerous canoe liveries was too far to go by horse and buggy, and considering the length of the canoe ride, they depended on Englischers to take them in cars and vans. Her parents never would allow her to go on such a trip…or so she had thought, and that’s why it seemed like a miracle.

  After services Mrs. Hostetler had mentioned to mamm that she was permitting Sarah to go. Also the bishop’s daughter would attend with her young beau. His daughter was two years older than Emma, and everyone expected them to wed in the autumn. Even so, mamm had originally said no when Emma had asked.

  “But if the bishop thinks it’s suitable for his girl, then I see no harm in it,” daed had declared. And the matter was settled.

  Emma found herself counting the days and
holding her breath for fear she’d say or do something to change her parents’ minds. She had pitched in with even the most onerous of chores and helped Leah with dinner when not her turn. She’d weeded the garden without being reminded and darned her bruders’ socks to spare her mother’s arthritic fingers. And she’d stayed out of her father’s path as much as possible, since the sight of her bangs still rankled him.

  Now that the day had arrived, Emma was so excited her shoes barely touched the ground when she walked. She’d heard from Sarah that James would be canoeing with Sam Yoder. Sam was the reason Sarah was willing to climb into a wobbly boat, perch on a hard wooden seat, and paddle downriver on a hot June day, swatting at mosquitoes all the while. The girl feared water most other days.

  Funny how a heart plays strange tricks on a girl’s mind.

  Canoeing had always sounded like a silly pastime to Emma, but today she couldn’t wait to see what fascinating sights waited along the riverbank. She’d begged her mom to let her walk to Sarah’s so the English driver wouldn’t have to make so many stops. The Hostetlers lived about a mile away, across the road from Aunt Hannah. Emma could easily hike the back path.

  “Jah, sure,” Julia said, “but you make sure the driver brings you all the way home. I don’t want you walking through the bog after dark, even with your flashlight.”

  Emma readily agreed. With any luck, a tall blond-haired man would bring her home in his shiny green truck. That thought instantly made her feel guilty and deceptive, even though she hadn’t done anything wrong…yet. Emma tried to tamp down her enthusiasm. Sarah might be wrong about James, since his responsibilities at the Hollyhock Farm might keep him from an afternoon of fun, but for some reason she didn’t think so. At the volleyball party, he’d looked at her differently than the other girls—as though his face were glowing.