Annie and her mother kept telling Dat that he should hire some local help, but Dat said no. “We’ve managed all these years on our own; I don’t want strangers running the farm.”
“It wouldn’t be strangers,” Mamm always reminded him. “Some of our Amish neighbors could use the work. And with the money from the shop, we’d have no trouble paying them.” Ye Olde Tea Shop, which had started as Mamm’s side business, had gotten popular with more and more tourists coming to Halfway these days. The shop was bringing in money for the family, but it also pulled Lovina and her daughters away from the farm.
Annie’s older sister Sarah rose and started clearing away plates. “So that’s how you caught one fish,” she said. “How did you come home with four?”
“Are you kidding me?” Perry’s dark brows rose. “I know something good when I see it. I started baiting my hook with the ham, too. Four pieces of ham and we brought in four fish.”
“We would have caught more,” Dan added, “but it was getting dark and we were running out of ham.”
“Mmm.” Dan’s wife, Rebecca, pressed a napkin to her mouth. “That’s why the walleye was so good and smoky. Tastes just like ham.”
Everyone laughed again.
“I’m glad to see my wife shares my sense of humor.” Dan handed his plate to Rebecca, and Annie caught the unmistakable look of love between them. How her heart ached to know that sort of love.
Annie brought a washcloth over to Mark in the high chair. She loved tending to her little nephews. “I think you’re wearing more fish than you ate.” She wiped little Mark’s face and hands before releasing him to toddle around.
“I don’t need a wiping,” said five-year-old Levi. “I’m not a baby.”
“Hmm.” Annie squinted at him. “You look fishy to me.”
“I’ll wash at the sink, then.” He scooted off the bench and went to the sink.
“Now I know how to get him to the sink,” Rebecca, Levi’s mother, said, smiling at Annie. “Set you on him.”
Annie smiled. “If you need me, just send him down the lane.” Rebecca, Dan, and Levi lived in a cottage on the property, so Levi spent most days on the farm.
“Perry and Dan, denki for the fish,” said Annie’s mother, Lovina. “Your walleyes made a delicious meal for us.”
“And a good surprise on a Sunday when we usually just have a small snack for dinner.” Annie’s father folded his napkin and dropped it onto the table. “Next time you go fishing, I’ll supply the ham.”
“Next time will be a long ways off, Dat,” Sarah reminded him. “We’re heading off Friday. Perry ordered the driver already.”
Sarah’s words drained the smile from Annie’s face. In all the laughter and joking, Annie had let the dreaded day slip from her mind. But it was coming, this Friday. In a way, tonight had been a farewell dinner for Sarah, Perry, and little Mark. They would be leaving Lancaster County … leaving the state of Pennsylvania.
Aaron rose from the table and put a hand on his daughter’s shoulder. Were those tears shining in his blue eyes? Annie wondered.
“You don’t need to say it again,” Dat said softly. “Your move up north has been heavy on my mind ever since you and Perry announced it. You know your mamm and I are sad to see you go.”
“It wasn’t an easy choice.” Sarah paused, her arms full of stacked dishes, her smile a bit shaky. “But, Dat, you know how hard it is to find land in Lancaster County.” The young couple had moved in to one of the upstairs bedrooms when they married, and though they’d been saving money, they didn’t see a way that they could buy property here anytime soon.
“I know that, Sarah. You and Perry have made a good choice. But it’s like castor oil; it doesn’t go down too easy.”
Sarah looked to her husband. “Perry thinks it’s the best thing for us, and I know my husband will do his best to provide for his family.”
Perry nodded at Sarah with such a look of love in his eyes that Annie thought her heart would melt. She had always wondered at the quiet bond between her sister and Perry Fisher. Mutual respect, admiration, and a willingness to work side by side.
Sarah didn’t even notice as Annie took the plates from her and set them beside the sink. Her oldest sister, Rebecca, was already rinsing forks in a pot of clear water, so Annie grabbed a towel and got to work.
“We’re all going to miss you,” said Hannah. “Mamm, who’s going to take Sarah’s work at the shop?” Eighteen-year-old Hannah was the youngest of Annie’s sisters, and though she looked like she was barely a teenager, she’d been meeting with the bishop to be baptized this month.
“I’ll need to hire some help at the tea shop,” Lovina said. “Same with Dat here on the farm.”
“I can manage without a hired hand,” Dat said. “I’ve always said, we’ve got to keep this a family farm.”
“The choice is yours,” Lovina said, “but I’m going to ask around for help at the shop. And it wouldn’t hurt to hire an Amish man to work here. A hearty young man who wants to learn how to work the land.”
Dat waved his hand as if swatting a gnat. “Pshaw! An old man like me can work the land, too.”
“You’re not old, Dat,” Annie said.
“But you’re going to need help, Aaron,” Perry said. “With Dan taking over the harness shop and me gone, there’s going to be more work around here than any one man could handle.”
“Everyone will pitch in,” Aaron said. “We’ll make do.”
Hannah blew a wisp of hair out of her face. “Sounds like Annie and I are going to be spending more time out in the barn.”
“At the end of the day, the chores will be done,” Lovina said. “Important thing is that Perry and Sarah get a good start. What grows in that part of New York? Is the land the same as ours? I want to imagine you there in the months ahead.”
“There’s a lot of dairy farming. Three years ago my cousin moved up there, and last fall he was able to build a house,” Perry said. “There’s opportunity up north that we don’t have here. More open land. Cheaper land, and a lot of it can be tilled. We’ve almost got enough saved to buy forty acres. In the meantime, Cousin Gideon needs help on his farm. That’ll give us work right away, and a place to stay.”
“I’ll miss you all so!” Lovina’s voice was as warm as a familiar quilt on the bed. “You will always be welcome here.”
Dropping some forks into the drawer, Annie saw her mother gather Sarah into her arms. The knot in Annie’s throat grew thick. Another minute of this and she would be crying.
“You’ve shared your fine home with us for too long,” Perry said. “We’re grateful for all you’ve done for us. But we’ve talked and prayed about making this move. I think it’s time.”
“Bishop Sam has given us a letter for the clergy up in Lowville, saying that we’re baptized members in good standing,” Sarah said.
“And it’s an Old Order group?” asked Dat.
“It’s the Byler Amish,” Perry said. “More conservative than we are. No gas lamps or indoor plumbing.”
“Do you remember the days when we had the outhouse in the back?” Lovina asked her daughters. “It wasn’t so bad. You’ll be used to it in no time.”
Annie wondered if she would fit in among the Byler Amish. Not that she had made up her mind on moving to New York, but she had to ask herself how she’d feel about following a stricter Ordnung.
“We’ll be near a lake, and close enough to take a ride to Lake Erie,” Sarah said. “They say that lake is so big, you can’t even see the other side.”
“That would be such a wonderful sight!” Mamm said. “We’ll have to go there when we visit, Aaron. Take a look at the great lake Gott created.”
“It is a Great Lake,” Perry said, “one of five.”
“Oh, you’re a smart one.” Lovina clapped him on the back as everyone laughed.
The men moved into the front room to talk and relax with the little ones while kitchen cleanup was in progress. Annie brought some table scraps
out to the porch to feed Sunny, their border collie. When she returned to the kitchen, talk of the big move was still in the air. Sarah was explaining that the Lowville Amish didn’t allow phone shanties that were shared by neighbors.
“So we can’t even talk to you on the phone?” Hannah asked as she wiped down the table covering. “How will we share news?”
“We’re going to do a circle letter,” Rebecca said. “And we’re counting on you to write about everyone here, Annie. You’re the writer.”
“Me?” Annie pressed the paper plates down into the trash. “I don’t mind writing, but I don’t think a true circle letter will work. I can’t bear to wait for other people to write and keep the chain going.”
“You can send your letter straight to me, anytime,” Sarah assured her.
Annie wanted to say that a letter was no comfort at all, not like having her sister nearby. Nothing was turning out as Annie had planned. She had always thought she’d be married to Adam King by the time she turned twenty. Married and living a stone’s throw from her sisters.
And here she was, not a prospect in sight, and she was losing part of her family. Her throat felt thick, squeezed tight by worry, and her eyes stung.
Don’t cry. Do not cry! She clamped her teeth over her lower lip to keep it from wobbling. She didn’t want to be a Gloomy Gussy. Sarah deserved better.
When she looked up to find a place in the cabinet for the glass she’d been drying, Sarah stood beside her, her blue eyes watchful. Annie had never been able to fool her.
“Be happy for me, Annie.” Sarah grabbed her arm and pulled her to the side of the big kitchen, away from the commotion of dishwashing. “Perry and I are going off on an adventure. There’s good opportunity for him there, and a chance for us to farm our own land someday.”
Annie twisted the dish towel around one hand. “But you’ll be so far from home.”
“Ya, but Perry has some family there. And you can come visit us anytime. It’s not like you to see the bad in things. Look at all the good that might come of this. Now smile for me.”
Swallowing, Annie forced a smile. “You know I want the best for you. I pray that Gott has good things waiting for you in New York.”
“I know that.” Sarah rubbed Annie’s arm fondly. “And think about what I said before. New York might be your chance to start over. Even if you and Adam weren’t right and proper beaus, that doesn’t make it hurt any less to have your dreams crushed.”
Annie took a deep, calming breath. “How did you get so smart about things like that?”
“When it comes to my sisters, I’ve had a lifetime of experience,” Sarah said. “I can read you all like a book.”
“Ya?” Rebecca called from the sink. “If you can read me now, you’ll know that someone needs to serve coffee and apple schnitz while I finish scrubbing these fry pans.”
Sarah laughed as she led Annie back to the heart of the kitchen. “I’ll make the coffee. Where’s Hannah gone off to?”
“She’s getting washed up for the singing,” Lovina said as she returned from the front room. “Though I don’t know how much more washing that girl can do. With the time she spends in the shower, she’s going to scrub clear through the skin.” She turned to Annie. “Are you going to the singing, too?”
When Annie nodded, her mamm shooed her along.
“You’d better get along, then. Go hitch Dapple to the buggy. We’ll get the kitchen spic-and-span.”
“I don’t mind helping,” Annie said.
But Lovina wouldn’t hear of it. “You’ll have double chores on your shoulders after your sister leaves,” Mamm said. “Best to make hay while the sun shines. Off to the singing you go!”
SEVEN
Outside the barn, a cool wind swept over the stubby golden fields, making the leaves on the trees shimmer in bunches of gold and red and orange. The sun was an orange ball over the hills—a harvest sky that promised cooler days ahead. It would be a perfect night to give Annie a ride home—just cool enough to make two people want to huddle together for warmth.
When Jonah led Jigsaw over to the buggies lined up beside the barn, he saw Adam there, hitching Thunder up to the open carriage on the end.
“I like this cooler weather,” Adam said.
Jonah nodded, stroking the withers of his horse. Jigsaw nickered in appreciation.
A second later, Gabe trotted over bareback on Mercury.
“A traffic jam and we’re not even on the road yet,” Jonah said. Though all three brothers were going to the same place, by courting tradition each wanted to take his own buggy, in the hope of leaving with a girl. “It’s a good thing we have more than one buggy.”
“Ya. Otherwise you two would have to sit in the back of mine.” Gabe hopped off his horse and led it over to the buggy he had “fixed up.” A few weeks ago he had come home with a big plastic machine that played music CDs. “I got it for just five dollars at an Englisher’s garage sale,” Gabe had told Jonah. They had talked about how their sister Sadie would have enjoyed it, though Gabe only had five of the shiny CDs to play. Sadie was always singing on the farm. Mamm used to say she was born with a song in her heart.
“But you know we can’t ride with you in that thing.” Adam snickered. “Jonah and I are baptized members. We can’t be riding in a buggy with music playing all night from that boom box you have.”
“I like to call it a party machine,” Gabe said.
Adam shook his head, but Jonah laughed. “What happened to the quiet Gabe who was devoted to our animals?”
“One word,” Gabe said. “Rumspringa.”
“Mmm.” Jonah tightened a strap. “If only we’d had milking machines during my rumspringa. I remember being too tired to go out some Sundays after the chores and the milking.”
“It’s true!” Gabe agreed. “I didn’t think it was a good idea at first, but you were right, Adam. The machines were a good thing. Look at us—all three of us going off. Mary, too. Before the milking machines, I didn’t have much time to think about going to the singings.”
“And now?” Adam clapped Gabe on the back. “Got your eye on a nice Amish girl?”
“Maybe I do. But I never kiss and tell.”
Jonah laughed along with his brothers, but he wondered at the change in Gabriel. Like a bird that’d left the flock, he seemed to be flying in his own direction without a lick of fear. It surprised Jonah, and he wondered if it concerned Adam. Among the Amish, it wasn’t necessarily a good thing to stand out from the crowd.
Good meant following the rules and obeying the Ordnung. Good Amish didn’t have Hochmut, the pride that might fill their heads with foolishness and let them believe they were better than their neighbors. Good Amish moved with humility. They filed into church in an orderly way. They dressed the same. Good Amish lived Plain.
No boom boxes.
Inside the Eichers’ barn, Jonah moved his mouth to the songs, but no sound came out. He had a terrible singing voice. Sadie used to say he sounded like a wounded animal—so he kept it to himself. Even with a bad voice, he never missed a singing.
Tonight he had managed to get a seat right across the table from Annie. He could have spent the whole night watching her red lips form the words to the songs. Those lips—they were as bright as the red maple trees that glowed this time of year. Her blue eyes danced with each fast song, a wild swirl of crisp leaves in the autumn wind.
That was how she haunted his heart. Every season, every corner of Gott’s good land, he saw Annie there.
But to keep from staring at her like a verhuddelt man, he let his gaze slide down to the table and over the other girls, too. Annie sat sandwiched between his sister Mary and her sister Hannah, a young girl as sweet as a sugar cookie, but to Jonah a paler version of Annie. Emma Lapp, the schoolteacher, had a fair voice, and she never missed a note or a single word of a song. The three Mast sisters helped carry the tunes, but poor Nellie Zook had a voice worse than Jonah’s—only she didn’t know it.
Besid
e him, Gabe’s voice boomed.
“Joy, joy, joy!”
Gabe’s voice had a lot of power for a kid without a lot of meat on his bones. John Raber was a good song leader, and fellas like Adam and Five could follow along.
Jonah liked to filter out single voices and listen to the whole roomful of song, wide and open as a September sky at sunset. When all the young people sang and their voices blended together, you could feel Gott’s grace.
“How great my joy.
Great my joy.
Joy, joy, joy!
Joy, joy, joy!
Praise we the Lord in Heav’n on high.”
Pressing his knuckles to the edge of the table, Jonah could feel the vibration of sound in the wood. A singing could really wake up the soul!
When they took a break from the singing, Jonah forced himself to head over to Annie, driven by the fact that he had something to say tonight. He was looking out for his younger sisters. At least, that was what he told himself.
Standing next to Mary, Annie looked much younger, mostly because she was a head shorter. Her summer blue eyes seemed to peer right through him, but he pressed ahead.
“Annie.” He nodded. “Leah and Susie have been wondering about your mamm’s tea shop in town.”
“That’s right.” Mary tapped Jonah’s arm gently. “They wanted me to ask you about it.”
“Is it true Lovina’s looking to hire some help?” Jonah asked.
“Ya, it’s true,” Annie said.
“The twins are hoping to be apprentices,” Jonah said. “Somewhere off the farm, I think.” He threw this last bit in to make the conversation less businesslike, but it didn’t work too well.
“Then they should talk to Mamm,” Annie said. “With Sarah and Perry leaving, we’re going to need some help. Maybe on the farm, too, though you know how Dat is about that.”
“Mmm.” Jonah grunted. He knew that Aaron didn’t want to hire anyone on the farm. After a storm had torn off part of the Stoltzfuses’ roof, word had gotten around that they needed help to fix it before the rain got in. Jonah had been quick to volunteer, along with Adam, who had good carpentry skills. They had gotten a tarp on the roof right away, and this week they planned to finish up with the new shingles.
A Simple Autumn: A Seasons of Lancaster Novel Page 4
