A Home for Lydia (The Pebble Creek Amish Series)

by Chapman, Vannetta

  “Ya. Can’t plow, so I had some extra time.”

  “Gut. I’m glad you stopped by. Did Seth see to your horse?”

  “He did.”

  Something in Gabe’s tone must have alerted David, or perhaps he caught Gabe’s glance out the workshop’s window, his look toward the boy. “I won’t abide him showing bad manners to customers or freinden. Tell me he wasn’t rude.”

  “No, he wasn’t bad mannered at all.” Gabe perched on a stool that sat next to a counter. David had done a nice job of turning this portion of the barn into a real shop. What was it like to have strangers traipsing on and off your property, though?

  “But…”

  Picking up a truck carved out of maple, Gabe rolled it across the counter before glancing up and grinning. “Nice wheels.”

  “Uh-huh. You’re avoiding the conversation about my firstborn.”

  “He seems to be having a hard time, is all.”

  “He seems to be having an attitude, and I’ll have none of it.”

  Gabe studied David. A saying his mamm often quoted darted into his mind. “Don’t argue with a fool—people watching may not be able to tell the difference.” He remembered the proverb and decided to keep it to himself.

  David was no fool, but where his son was concerned, he might be somewhat blinded. Regardless, who was he to tell the man how to raise a seventeen-year-old boy? He’d never raised a teenager himself. He had his hands full with an infant and a nine-year-old girl.

  “Why was it you wanted me to stop by?”

  “I received some of that new seed we were talking about, and it came with literature I thought you would want to look over.”

  They spent the next hour weighing the benefits of planting oats versus spelt and wheat. Both men were growing restless with waiting on the ground to be ready. Their conversation became so animated they took it outside. Soon they were talking about the advantages of rotational grazing, something Gabe had studied over the winter and wanted to try.

  “You’re going to put your cattle in your fields.”

  “I am, come fall.”

  “It’s foolish,” David said, scowling.

  “No, it’s not.” Gabe shook his head. “I believe it will increase my yield.”

  “I believe it will increase your work.”

  “And I believe you two need to find something else to do until the land dries.” Anna had joined them at the fence without either one of them noticing. Shorter than Miriam and expecting their sixth child, she had recently entered the final month of her pregnancy.

  Miriam had shared that the baby’s size was making sleeping hard for Anna, and when Anna didn’t sleep he supposed David didn’t sleep. The next month wouldn’t be easy for his brother-in-law or sister-in-law. He needed to remember to stop by more often and offer to help however he could.

  “Can’t you find any work?” Anna asked. “You’re frightening the goats with your arguing.”

  “What would you have us do? My shop’s shelves are full of toys. There’s a limit to how much woodwork a man can do in one day.” David smiled at his wife, but Gabe could sense the nervous energy in him.

  It was the same energy he felt in himself. They were both used to working long hours all year. The winter work was finished, though, and they couldn’t begin the spring’s work yet. It was frustrating for everyone.

  “Maybe you could…” her hands came out and fluttered toward the road. “Run an errand or something.”

  “It sounds as if she’s trying to get rid of me.”

  “Ya. It does.” Gabe grinned at the two of them.

  “What are you smiling about? Miriam probably sent you over here to get you out from underfoot.” David tested the top board of the fence. It was sturdy. He’d knocked the entire place into tip-top shape. Either that, or he’d had Seth working on it to keep the kid busy.

  “No, Miriam’s at your parents’.” Anna placed her hand at the small of her back.

  “She told you that?” Gabe asked.

  “She didn’t have to. She goes there every Friday.”

  “Women share everything,” Gabe muttered.

  “Not everything, but many things. Now, isn’t there somewhere you two can go? And take Seth with you.”

  “Why would we do that?” David’s scowl returned.

  “Count it as a favor. He just came banging through the house. I’m worried about him, David. He seems so unhappy.”

  “What does he have to be unhappy about?”

  “Do it for me. It would be a big help.”

  “Speaking of help…” Their worry over Seth had reminded Gabe of Aaron. “I met someone yesterday who could probably use a hand.”

  He related meeting Ervin’s nephew, taking him by the cabins, and Aaron’s confrontational meeting with Lydia. David and Anna exchanged knowing glances as he neared the end of his story.

  “Might be a gut idea for us to go by there,” David admitted.

  “David’s tried to help before, but Ervin always said he could take care of things himself.”

  “The place looked as if it needed repairs. I’m not sure Aaron can do it alone, at least not quickly.”

  “Why should he?” David asked. “My fraa wants us out from underfoot, and young Seth apparently has some energy to burn off.”

  “Sounds like a gut reason to stop by.”

  “Ride with me or take your own buggy?”

  “I’d better take my own. The cabins are on my way home.”

  Fifteen minutes later they were underway. Gabe wasn’t sure they would be welcome, but he was glad they were going by to check on Aaron Troyer. Something told him they should at least offer to help. After all, it was the Amish way.

  He wasn’t sure how the cabins had fallen into such a sad state of repairs, or what the look between David and Anna meant, but he wouldn’t be able to plant his fields before next week even if the sun came out and started shining this very minute. Pushing his hat back, he stared up at the low-lying clouds. At least they had stopped pouring rain down onto the ground. He would have to be grateful for that and trust God knew what He was doing regarding the weather.

  As far as he could reason, it didn’t seem as though he had much choice other than fussing about the rain, which was a useless way to spend his days.

  Now, would Aaron allow them to lend a hand?

  They would find out soon enough.

  Chapter 8

  Grace sat on the swings with Sadie and Lily during their afternoon recess. Sadie was her very best friend. She had been almost since the first November day Grace had walked into the one-room schoolhouse beside Pebble Creek. She was nearly like Grace in every way, except Grace was sure Sadie was prettier.

  That was something she wasn’t supposed to think about. Bishop Jacob had spoken about humility again just last Sunday. It was a hard idea for Grace to put her arms around. She understood modesty and the emphasis on it, but her eye naturally looked for the beauty in things. Her mind found those things and focused on them. Those were the objects she liked to draw.

  It wasn’t that she didn’t like herself when she checked her reflection in the small mirror beside her bed before leaving in the morning, but when she looked at her freinden she noticed small details worth drawing. A few moments ago she came across Sadie helping Lily with her prayer kapp, and her fingers itched to draw the two of them, with Sadie scrunching her nose as she focused on refastening Lily’s hairpins, Lily biting down on her bottom lip as she held perfectly still, and the light bouncing off their black kapps. They made a picture like the ones Grace had seen on the shelves in the Englisch store.

  Sadie and Grace were similar in size and height. Lily was smaller and younger. She was also a little chubby, probably because she liked her mother’s sweets so much. Lily’s mother cooked wonderful cookies and pies. Most days Lily brought extra helpings to school and shared them.

  Every day they ate their lunches together. After they ate, they usually played tag or sat on the swings.


  “Why do you think the boys would try to play baseball in the mud?” Sadie asked.

  “Because they’re boys,” Grace said, leaning forward in the swing to catch a glimpse of the game going on around the other side of the school yard. The sun was breaking through the clouds in spots, and it was a little warmer, but the thought of all that mud on her clothes made her shake her head.

  “What is it, Grace? Whatcha thinking about?” Lily stopped a few feet shy of the other swing.

  They had the area to themselves. Some of the girls had stayed inside, and the rest had gone over to watch the baseball game.

  “Are you thinking about playing ball?” Lily cocked her head, reminding Grace of Hunter and causing her to laugh.

  “Nein. I was thinking of the washing I’d have to do if I played ball.”

  “You’re right. It wouldn’t be worth the extra chores.” Lily hitched up her dress, stepped carefully over a puddle of water, and plopped into the swing beside Grace.

  Sadie moved around behind them and began to push Lily’s swing. She had to reach out with her arms so that she wouldn’t step into the water that had gathered under Lily’s seat. Grace satisfied herself with sitting in the swing and rocking it back and forth.

  “I’m surprised Hannah and Miss Bena allowed us to come outside at all.” Sadie stared at the schoolhouse as she pushed Lily again.

  “Hannah must have talked her into it,” Grace said. “She seemed eager to have the boys out from underfoot.”

  “But Miss Bena—” The way Sadie whispered their teacher’s name pretty much summed up their confusion about their new teacher.

  She’d been their teacher only since January.

  Several replacements had been tried since Grace’s stepmother had married and stopped teaching. None had worked out particularly well. They had tried a nice Mennonite woman, but the pay was too low and the distance too far from her home. They had also tried an Amish man, but he’d left when he purchased a large farm to the north.

  For more than a month a round of substitutes had marched through the classroom each day—her classmates’ mothers, fathers, and even grandparents. That was fun, at first, but it quickly grew old.

  Then Miss Bena had appeared.

  “I sure hope those boys don’t get muddy,” Lily said.

  “She’ll never let them back in the schoolroom.” Sadie slowed the swing Lily was in, as if she suddenly feared the girl would fly out and topple into the muddy water.

  “She’d probably give them a bucket and have them scrub off outside.” Grace started laughing as she pictured that. It would make a great drawing.

  Suddenly they all heard a cheer go up from around the corner of the school yard, followed by clapping, and the three girls glanced at each other.

  Grace turned toward the ball game.

  Sadie took two steps away from the swings so she could see better.

  And Lily leaned back in the swing.

  When she did, she slid farther down into the seat, and then the thing that wasn’t supposed to happen, happened.

  Lily, Sadie, and Grace stood outside the doorway to the schoolhouse. They didn’t dare step inside.

  Miss Bena stood inside the doorway, arms crossed and mouth scrunched up as though she’d swallowed something sour. Grace had seen that look before. It wasn’t good. Hannah stood behind Miss Bena, her right hand over her mouth and her eyes open wide.

  “You are dripping, Lily Gingerich.” The words came out of Miss Bena’s mouth quietly and slowly.

  Grace wondered if she thought that by speaking slowly she could change the scene in front of her. Miss Bena hated dirt of any kind, and she especially detested mud. She’d used that exact word last week. “I detest mud in my classroom.” Grace hadn’t heard the word “detest” before Miss Bena had stood in front of Luke and Adam Lapp and proclaimed her dislike for mud.

  Sometimes Grace questioned if teaching was the best job for their new teacher, as kids did tend to be dirty at times.

  After Miss Bena proclaimed, “You are dripping, Lily Gingerich,” Lily only nodded.

  “She fell out of the swing,” Sadie explained. “Into the puddle.”

  “I told you to stay inside if you couldn’t be careful.” Miss Bena was still speaking slowly, as if they had trouble understanding. Grace knew about that too. Back when she had lost her voice, people would talk that way to her sometimes, as if her mind was lost as well as her voice.

  Lily glanced up at Grace, her eyes pleading for help.

  Grace wanted to say something that would erase the expression of shock off Miss Bena’s face, but the words in her mind seemed to catch and stick in her throat.

  Memories of the years she couldn’t speak crowded in on her, kind of like the other school children crowding in behind them. Now everyone was interested in what they were doing. Usually no one noticed them because they were quiet and small.

  Grace turned to look at the other kids.

  The boys weren’t exactly clean.

  Adam and Luke both had mud stains on the knees of their pants. As if they knew what she was thinking, they ducked to the back of the crowd. No one looked like Lily, though. Dirty brown water was still dripping onto the top step of the schoolhouse.

  Lily’s eyes crinkled up and her mouth turned down at the corners, and Grace knew what was going to happen next. Once Lily started crying, it usually lasted at least fifteen minutes.

  She needed to speak up, now, or things were headed toward an even bigger disaster. “It was our fault—mine and Sadie’s.”

  Sadie’s eyes popped open wide as quarters.

  “Sadie was pushing her in the swing, and I was sitting beside her. I guess we weren’t being careful enough.” Grace reached out to clasp Lily’s hand. She was relieved when Sadie did the same. “We’ll take her to the girls’ room and wash her up, Miss Bena. When we bring her back, she’ll be real clean.”

  Sadie nodded her head and Lily sniffled, but at least she didn’t start bawling like the calf in the sad barn when it wanted its mom.

  “Any lesson you miss will be made up at home. Hannah, see if you can find Lily some extra clothes from upstairs.”

  Hannah winked at the girls from behind Miss Bena’s shoulders before she turned and hurried upstairs to the apartment over the schoolroom. It was where Miriam and Esther used to live, but now Miss Bena lived there alone. Hannah still lived with her parents because their farm was very close to the schoolhouse—or maybe because she would rather live at home than with Miss Bena. You would have to be awfully clean if you lived with their teacher.

  The three girls turned around and walked back down the steps. When they did, the other children spread into two groups, making a wide path for them.

  “Guess no one else wants to get muddy,” Lily said.

  “You’d think we had the chicken pox or something,” Sadie muttered once they were through the small crowd.

  “They just don’t want Miss Bena to be mad at them.” Grace put a little distance between Lily and herself, though she continued to hold the younger girl’s hand. She didn’t need any of the mud on her dress. They had enough extra washing at home with Rachel’s dirty clothes and their regular washing.

  “She’s awfully mad.” Lily looked up at Grace as they all tried to fit inside the outhouse.

  “She wasn’t happy, but it’s hard to tell with Miss Bena. I’m not sure she’s a happy kind of person.”

  “I’m not sure I’m going to fit in there with you two,” Sadie said. She stood in the doorway as Grace studied Lily.

  “I’ll get her out of these clothes and you can bag them up. We’ll need some water too, and the clean clothes from Hannah.”

  “Sure. I can do that.”

  Grace did her best to stay clean, but some of the mud found its way on to her clothes anyway. By the time they were finished, she had to use another rag to wipe off her own apron.

  “Danki, Grace.” Lily looked exhausted but cleaner in clothes several sizes too large.

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nbsp; “Gem gschehne.” Grace hugged the younger girl and turned her toward the classroom. Sadie had slipped inside ahead of them and was already working.

  Grace had missed almost half an hour of the afternoon lessons. She would need to make them up tonight after chores.

  What she wanted to do, though, was go home and draw the three of them standing on the schoolhouse step, a puddle of muddy water growing around them. At the time she’d been terrified of being in trouble, but now that the crisis had passed, she thought it was kind of funny. How they must have looked had captured her imagination.

  She even knew how she’d cut off the top of the drawing. She’d draw their backs and the tops of their heads covered by their prayer kapps. She’d also draw Miss Bena’s crossed arms, but not her expression. There was no need for anyone else to experience that.

  At times, the woman was actually frightening.

  Chapter 9

  Lydia had been working cleaning cabins all morning. They had three weekend reservations, and she wanted things to be in tip-top shape. She was in cabin six, dusting the furniture, when Aaron returned from visiting Elizabeth. If anything he appeared to be in a worse mood, though she hadn’t thought that was possible.

  He didn’t pause to speak with her at all.

  Instead, he’d unharnessed Tin Star and then banged around in the barn for thirty minutes. When she saw him next, he was attacking the shrubs and vines in front of the nearest cabin. “Attack” was certainly the best word for what he was doing with Ervin’s gardening tools. Aaron was apparently working his way away from the parking lot toward the back of the property, butchering anything that was green and touching a cabin wall.

  After a while he climbed up on the old wooden ladder Ervin kept for repairs in order to brutalize the top limbs of a lovely white ash tree. Unfortunately, he set the ladder in the mud—everywhere the ground was slick with mud—and the bottom of the ladder slipped. It all happened quickly, leaving him hanging from the tree limb with both hands, his handsaw having fallen to the ground below him.