“There’s to be a singin’ this Sunday night in Daniel Troyer’s barn.”
“What’s that got to do with me?” Abraham yawned and leaned his elbows on the counter.
“It doesn’t. I mean, it does in one way.” Caleb shuffled his boots against the hardwood planks. He was botching things up and felt powerless to stop himself from acting like a self-conscious schoolboy. After all, he was a twenty-two-year-old man who built and repaired buggies for a living. Abraham Fisher probably thought he was letz in der belskapp; and truth be told, at this moment, Caleb felt like he was a little off in the head.
“Which is it, son?” the older man asked. “Does your bein’ here have something to do with me or doesn’t it?”
Caleb steadied himself against the front of the counter and leveled Abraham with a look he hoped would let the man know he meant business. “I’m wonderin’ if Naomi can go to that singing.”
Abraham’s frown carved deep lines in his forehead. “Naomi’s mamm died nearly a year ago, ya know.”
Caleb nodded.
“Ever since the accident, it’s been Naomi’s job to look after the kinner.”
“I understand that, but—”
Abraham brushed his hand across the wooden counter, sending several pieces of paper sailing to the floor. “It ain’t polite to interrupt a man when he’s speakin’.”
“I—I’m sorry,” Caleb stammered. Things weren’t going nearly as well as he’d hoped.
“As I was saying ... Naomi’s job is to take care of her brothers and sisters, and she also helps here at the store.”
Caleb nodded once more.
“There’s only so many hours in a day, and there ain’t time enough for Naomi to be socializin’.” Abraham’s stern look set Caleb’s teeth on edge. “You might have plans to court my daughter, but the truth is, she ain’t right for you, even if she did have time for courtin’.”
“Don’t ya think that ought to be Naomi’s decision?” Caleb clenched his fists, hoping the action would give him added courage.
“Anything that concerns one of my kinner is my business.” Abraham leaned across the counter until his face was a few inches from Caleb’s.
If Caleb hadn’t known Amish were not supposed to engage in fighting, he would have feared Naomi’s father was getting ready to punch him in the nose. But that was about as unlikely as a sow giving birth to a calf. If Abraham was capable of anything, it would probably involve talking with Caleb’s father, which, in turn, could end up being a thorough tongue-lashing. Pop had plenty of rules for Caleb and his brothers to follow. He often said as long as his children lived under his roof, he expected them to obey him and be well mannered.
Caleb figured he would have to watch his tongue with Abraham Fisher, but maybe it was time to take a stand. How could he expect Naomi to respect him if he wasn’t willing to try for the right to court her?
“If Naomi started attending singings again, first thing ya know, she’d be wantin’ to court,” Abraham continued. “Then gettin’ married would be her next goal. I’d be left with a passel of youngsters to raise by myself if I let that happen.” Abraham made a sweeping gesture with his hand. “Who would mind the store if I was at home cookin’, cleanin’, and all?”
“Have you thought about getting married again or even hiring a maad?”
“Don’t need no maid when I’ve got Naomi. And as far as me marryin’ again, there ain’t no one available in our community right now, except for a couple of women young enough to be my daughter.” The man grunted. “Some men my age think nothin’ of takin’ a child bride, but not Abraham Fisher. I’ve got more dignity than that!”
Caleb opened his mouth to comment, but Naomi’s father cut him off. “Enough’s been said. Naomi’s not goin’ to that singing on Sunday.” Abraham pointed to the door. “Now if you didn’t come here to buy anything, you’d best be on your way.”
All sorts of comebacks flitted through Caleb’s mind, but he remained silent. No use getting the man more riled. He would bide his time, and when the opportunity afforded itself, Caleb hoped to have the last word where the storekeeper’s daughter was concerned.
CHAPTER 2
Naomi had just taken a bite from her apple when the screen door creaked open. She looked over her shoulder and saw Caleb exit the store. The scowl on his face told Naomi things probably hadn’t gone well with Papa, and a sense of disappointment crept into her soul.
“He said no, didn’t he?” Naomi whispered when Caleb slumped to the step beside her.
“Your daed is the most stubborn man I’ve ever met.” He shrugged. “Of course, my pop’s runnin’ him a close second.”
“Matthew says Papa’s overprotective ’cause he cares.” She blinked against the tears flooding her eyes. Truth be told, Naomi wasn’t sure her father cared about her at all. If he did, then why had he been keeping it to himself? Not once in the last year had he said he loved her or appreciated all the work she did.
“I’m thinkin’ your daed saying no to my request has more to do with his own selfish needs than it does with him carin’. Tell that to your oldest brother.”
Naomi tossed what was left of her apple into the lunch pail and slammed the lid shut. “Papa’s not bein’ selfish. He’s hurting because Mama died.”
Caleb crossed his arms. “That was a whole year ago, Naomi. Don’t ya think it’s time your daed got on with his life?”
“When Mama was alive, Papa used to be fun-loving and carefree. He’d joke around with the brothers and tease me and the sisters sometimes, too.” Remembering how happy she used to be, Naomi fought to control her emotions. Things were all mixed up now that she was trying to fill her mother’s shoes. Life had been much better before Naomi’s mother got pregnant with Zach. It had come as a surprise to everyone in the family because Mama was forty-two years old and hadn’t had any children since Mary Ann was born six years ago. All during her mother’s pregnancy, she’d been sickly. Naomi’s only consolation was her confidence that the dear woman was in heaven with Jesus, happy and healthy, no more cares of the world—cares Naomi now shouldered.
“Ain’t ya got nothin’ to say about all this?”
Caleb’s question drew Naomi’s thoughts aside, and she turned to look at him. “What’s to be said? My daed won’t let me go to the singin’, I’ve gotta take care of my family, and I have a store to help run.” She grabbed her lunch pail and stood. “I’d best be getting back to work before Papa comes lookin’ for me.”
Caleb scrambled to his feet and positioned himself between Naomi and the door. “There has to be some way we can make your daed listen to reason. I want to court you, Naomi.”
She hung her head. “Maybe you should find someone else to court, ’cause it doesn’t look like I’ll ever be free. Leastways, not ’til all the kinner are old enough to fend for themselves.”
Caleb lifted her chin with his thumb. “I care for you.”
Naomi’s throat constricted. She cared for Caleb, too, but what was the point in saying so when they couldn’t court? Too many problems plagued her mind already. She didn’t need one more. “You’d better find someone else.” She pushed past him and hurried into the store.
Naomi found Papa kneeling on the floor, holding a sheet of paper, with several more lying next to his knee. He looked up, and a deep frown etched his forehead. “I’m glad you’re back. I think I heard the baby fussin’.”
She glanced at the door to the back room and tipped her head. She didn’t hear anything. Not even a peep out of Zach. Naomi was tempted to mention that to Papa but thought better of it. “I’ll go check on the boppli.”
A few seconds later, Naomi stepped into the room used for storage. The baby’s playpen, a rocking chair, and a small couch were also kept there. Sometimes, when there weren’t many customers, Papa liked to lie down and take a nap, which was usually whenever Zach was sleeping.
Naomi liked those moments when she could be by herself. It gave her a chance to daydream about how she wis
hed her life could be. If an English customer came into the store, she worried about her father scrutinizing everything she said or did. Naomi often wondered if Papa was afraid something an Englisher might say would cause her to become dissatisfied with their way of life and turn worldly.
She remembered the last time Virginia Meyers dropped by. Papa hovered around, acting like a mother hen protecting her young. Virginia, who liked to be called “Ginny,” came into the store at least once a week, sometimes to buy rubber stamps, other times just to look around. Naomi and Ginny were about the same age and had struck up a friendship, although Naomi was careful not to let Papa know.
She stared at the playpen where her little brother lay sleeping. He looked so peaceful, lying on his side, curled into a fetal position. One hand rested against his rosy cheek, a lock of russet-colored hair lay across his forehead, and the tiny little birthmark behind his right ear seemed to be winking at Naomi. “Sleep well, little one, and enjoy your days of untroubled babyhood,” Naomi whispered. “Soon you’ll grow up and see life for what it really is—all work and no play.”
Tears clouded Naomi’s vision. Oh, Lord, You know I love my family and want to keep my promise to Mama, but sometimes it’s ever so hard.
If there were someone to help on a regular basis, Naomi’s burdens might be a bit lighter. Her maternal grandparents were both dead, and Papa’s folks had moved to an Amish settlement in Indiana several years ago to be near their daughter Carolyn. They were both ailing now, so even if they had lived close, Grandma Fisher wouldn’t be much help to Naomi. Many of the women in their community offered assistance after Mama died, but they had their own families to care for, and Naomi knew she couldn’t continually rely on others. Looking after the family was her job, and even though she was exhausted, she would do it for as long as necessary.
Naomi swiped at the moisture on her cheeks. Nobody understands how I feel.
Naomi was twenty years old. She should be married and starting a family of her own by now. Her friends Grace and Phoebe had gotten married last fall. Naomi had been asked to be one of Phoebe’s attendants, and it was a painful reminder that her chance at love and marriage might never come.
Drawing in a deep breath and forcing her pain aside, Naomi slipped quietly out of the room. Zach was obviously not ready to wake from his nap, and she had plenty of work to do. There was no more time for reflections.
***
Abraham Fisher glanced at his daughter when she entered the room. It was clear by her solemn expression that Naomi was unhappy. No doubt Caleb had told her what had been said in regard to the singing. He grabbed the broom and gave the floor a few brisk sweeps. Naomi didn’t understand. No one did. Life held little joy for Abraham since Sarah died. Even though Zach’s first birthday last Saturday had been a happy occasion, it was also a painful reminder that ten months ago the baby’s mother had gone to heaven, leaving Abraham with a broken heart and eight kinner in his charge. He couldn’t care for them alone, and he relied on Naomi’s help.
Naomi strolled past him without a word. She reached under the counter, grabbed a dust rag, and started working on the shelves near the front of the store.
“Where’s Zach?” he called to her.
“Still sleeping.”
“Oh. I thought I heard him cryin’.”
“Nope.”
“Guess maybe I’m hearin’ things in my old age.”
“You’re not old, Papa.”
Abraham pushed the broom back and forth. “Forty-four’s old enough. Don’t get nearly as much done as I used to.”
“Mama was a big help, wasn’t she?” Naomi asked.
“Jah, she was. Your mamm loved workin’ at the store. Since this place used to belong to her folks, she grew up helpin’ here.”
“Do you ever wish you were doing something other than working at the store six days a week?”
Naomi’s question startled Abraham. Did she know what was on his mind? Had she guessed he wasn’t happy running the store? Truth of the matter, he’d much prefer to be at home farming with his boys than stocking shelves all day or dealing with the curious English who often visited the store.
“Papa, did ya hear what I asked?”
He nodded and grabbed the dustpan he had leaned against the front of the counter. “Jah, I heard. Just thinkin’; that’s all.”
“Mind if I ask what you were thinking about?”
Abraham did mind. He didn’t want to talk about an impossible dream. He was committed to running the store. It was the least he could do to preserve his late wife’s memory. “Just remembering how things were when your mamm was alive.”
Naomi didn’t say anything. He figured she probably missed her mother as much as he missed his wife of twenty-five years. Their marriage had been good, and God had blessed their union with eight beautiful children. Things had gone fairly well until Sarah’s life had been snuffed out like a candle in the breeze.
Wish it had been me God had taken, Abraham thought painfully. Truth was, he’d blamed himself for Sarah’s death. If he hadn’t closed the store that day last June and gone fishing with his friend, Jacob Weaver, his precious wife might still be alive. If he hadn’t suggested Naomi stay home from the store and help her mamm in the garden, Sarah probably wouldn’t have gone to the mailbox.
During the two months of Sarah’s recuperation from Zach’s birth, she hadn’t worked at the store. Abraham had insisted she stay home and take it easy. Up until the fateful day of her death, someone else had always gotten the mail. Sarah probably felt since Naomi was there to watch the baby and the younger ones, it would be fine for her to take a walk to the mailbox.
He thought about the way Jacob had helped him work through his grief as well as the guilt he felt. Yet, there were still moments when Abraham berated himself for going fishing, and he’d not gone again since Sarah died.
Didn’t God care how much I loved that woman?
Abraham thought about Caleb Hoffmeir’s suggestion that he find another wife. The young man hadn’t been the first person to recommend he remarry. Several of his friends, including Jacob Weaver, had also made such a remark.
“There will always be a place in your heart for Sarah,” Jacob said the other day, “but takin’ another wife would be good for you as well as the children.”
Abraham squeezed the broom handle. No, I can’t bring myself to marry a woman merely to look after my children. There has to be love, and I doubt I could ever care for anyone the way I cared for Sarah. He swept the dirt into the dustpan and dumped it in the wastepaper basket. As I told Caleb earlier, there ain’t no available widows in the area right now, and I’m not about to court some young, single woman, the way I’ve seen others do.
Feeling a sudden need for some fresh air, Abraham leaned the broom against the wall and grabbed his straw hat from the wooden peg by the front door. “I’m goin’ out to run a couple errands,” he announced. “Can ya manage okay by yourself for a while?”
Naomi nodded. “Sure, Papa. I’ll be fine.”
“See you soon then.”
***
Caleb was halfway home before he remembered that he’d planned to stop by the bookstore in Paradise to see if the book he’d ordered on antique buggies had come in. Besides working on Amish buggies, Caleb had recently expanded his business to include building and restoring old carriages. It hadn’t taken long for word to get out, and he’d already built some finely crafted buggies for folks as far away as the state of Oregon. Caleb made a fairly good living, and he’d even hired two of his younger brothers to help when things got busy. He knew he could easily support a wife and a family, and he wanted that wife to be Naomi Fisher.
“Maybe I should set my feelings for the storekeeper’s daughter aside and find someone else to court like Naomi suggested,” Caleb muttered. It made sense, but it wasn’t what he wanted. He had been interested in Naomi for a long time. He remembered the exact moment he’d known she was the one he wanted to marry....
***
“Somebody, come quick! There’s a kitten stuck up there.” Ten-year-old Naomi Fisher pointed to the maple tree in their schoolyard. Sure enough, there was a scraggly white cat perched on one of the branches, meowing for all it was worth.
“Ah, it’s just a dumb cat, and if it climbed up there, it can sure enough find its way back down,” Aaron Landis said with a smirk.
Caleb was tempted to climb the tree and rescue the kitten, but recess was nearly over, and their teacher would be ringing the bell any second. Besides, Aaron was probably right about the kitten being able to come down on its own.
Naomi thrust out her chin. “If no one will help, then I’ll do it myself.” With that, she promptly climbed the tree, paying no heed to her long skirt.
Caleb stood mesmerized. She was as agile as any boy and not one bit afraid.
Across the branch Naomi scooted, until she had the kitten in her arms.
How’s she gonna get back down? Caleb wondered.
Naomi slipped the cat inside her roomy apron pocket and shimmied to the ground. The girls all cheered when she landed safely with the animal in tow, but Caleb stared at Naomi with a feeling he couldn’t explain.
When I’m old enough to get married, she’s the one I’m gonna ask. Any man in his right mind would want a girl as brave as Naomi Fisher.
***
Steering his thoughts back to the present, Caleb had half a mind to turn his buggy around and return to Paradise. He could go to Byer’s Bookstore and see if his book was there, and afterward he’d stop back at Fisher’s General Store and try once more to reason with Abraham.
He glanced at the darkening sky. It looked like rain was heading their way, and his open buggy would offer little protection if there was a downpour. Besides, Caleb needed to get home. He had work waiting at the buggy shop, and Pop would no doubt have several chores he wanted done. It was probably for the best. Caleb was pretty sure Abraham Fisher wasn’t going to change his mind, so if there were any chance for him and Naomi, he would have to be the one to make it happen.
The Storekeeper's Daughter Page 2
