A Simple Autumn: A Seasons of Lancaster Novel

by Rosalind Lauer

  “I feel like I was born on this bike,” he told Blake.

  “Yeah? Well, you look like you’ve been riding a long time. My dad and I built a lot of obstacles into the course, but you dominate out there. You got skill, man. I’m glad you’re moving up to a bigger bike. I think you’re ready.”

  Gabe grinned, warmed by the compliments. The dirt bike track had been in the back of his mind all week, calling to him like a coyote in the night. He was eager to get out there again, to fly through the wind and roar over the land.

  “I’ve been thinking about this all week,” Gabe said.

  “You like it? Sounds like you caught the bug. That’s cool.”

  Gabe got off the bike and went to the assortment of helmets on the rack. Sleek and shiny, they all looked good to Gabe. He chose a black one with orange and red flames painted around the visor, and wondered if he could get someone to paint flames on his buggy. He stowed his hat in the empty spot of the rack.

  “I finally chose one.” Ben rolled a third bike out of the big garage.

  “Took you long enough,” Blake said. “But that’s one sweet ride. Little light in the rear.”

  “Is that a good thing?” Ben asked.

  “It can be. Depends on how you ride it.”

  Gabe listened. He wanted to learn all there was about this motor biking, and Blake had been doing it for a long time.

  Ben tipped his hat back. “Okay. I almost forgot—we brought you some money for gas.” Ben set the kickstand and reached down to pull up a pant leg. He fished a rolled-up bill from his sock. “Twenty dollars.” Ben had earned the money delivering milk and cheese for the family dairy.

  “We’ll bring more next time,” Gabe said. He was annoyed that he had no way to earn his own money. Adam didn’t understand that he was no longer a little child. He was a man now, and though he liked working on the family farm, it was time that he earned some money of his own.

  “That’s cool. Thanks.” Blake pushed the money into a pocket of his blue jeans. “I’m glad you guys are coming out to ride. The bikes are no good when they’re sitting here gathering dust. But the gas gets expensive. This’ll help. So do you remember how to work the gears and stuff?”

  “I remember how to crash into a hay bale,” Ben joked.

  “Yeah, I thought you got a little banged up that time.” Blake glanced toward the obstacle course. “It’s probably pretty muddy out there with the rain we’ve been having.”

  “A little mud never hurt anyone,” Gabe said.

  “But it’ll be slippery. Just warning you. And if we get sick of the track, we can head back into the woods. There’s some killer trails, but you got to watch for other people back there.”

  “Sounds good.” Gabe couldn’t imagine getting sick of riding the track. He could do that all day and all night. He raked his hair back and pulled the helmet on.

  “Ben, you need a helmet, too,” Blake called from the garage.

  “Right.” Ben hurried past Gabe, joking, “Got to have a shiny hat.”

  “Always gotta have a helmet, or Dad will freak.”

  Gabe slipped on his helmet and started the bike’s engine. It rolled cleanly down the paved driveway, then bumped and twisted a bit when the tires hit the soft dirt of the trail. He gave a burst of throttle and the bike shot forward. This was what he’d been waiting all week for—the freedom and power of a bike with a roaring engine.

  A cold, gray rain filled the air, but Gabe felt like he was riding a ball of fire through the now-familiar course. He took it easy the first time around, slowing for the turns. Blake had been right about the mud; it slowed the bike and sometimes the wheels spun wildly, spitting up muck behind them. He turned sharply to miss a fat tree, and the rear wheel slid. The bike wiggled and shook under him, like a crazed animal.

  Gabe laughed, trying to regain his balance.

  He pulled out of the skid and roared off with a yelp.

  After an hour or so on the course, Blake suggested that they try the trail into the woods. Gabe wasn’t so sure about leaving the privacy of Blake’s property. What if someone saw them?

  “We’ve got helmets that make us look like superheroes from comic books,” Ben said. “Who can recognize us when we’re wearing these?”

  “He’s right,” Blake said.

  Gabe looked down at the helmet with the flames curling around the sides. “Okay, then. Show us the way.”

  They followed Blake down the farm access road, past mown fields to a hilly area, too steep for good planting. Blake led them around to a narrow path through the tall weeds. Chaff and seed went flying when Gabe went off course, but he pulled back onto the trail as the bike dove into the damp darkness of trees.

  Gabe grinned as he hit the throttle. These things that he saw every day—leaves and brambles, weeds and tree roots—everything seemed different when he was flying past it on a motorbike.

  He gave a burst of throttle then lifted out of the seat to hop a twisted tree root—a trick Blake had shown him. His pulse raced with the effort of jumping with the bike, and he likened himself to a young buck, leaping and bounding through the forest.

  A stone jutted out of the path ahead, and he hit the throttle to leap again. But this time, the tires slipped on the ground, and he couldn’t get the bike up.

  The rubber spun sickly against the ground, and before Gabe knew what was happening the bike skidded off to the side. It slipped out from under him, and he went down. Hard.

  “Aarrrrr.” He rested against the sodden ground for a minute, mentally checking. Two arms, two legs. He could still move, but his shoulder screamed with pain.

  He pushed away from the ground, sat up a moment, then reached over to turn off the growling bike.

  His shoulder still reeled. He’d have a good bruise, but nothing was broken.

  The drone of another bike grew louder as Ben whirred up the path. He switched direction when he saw Gabe on the ground, heading straight for him, then skidding to a stop in the mud.

  Ben flipped up his visor. “Gabe, are you hurt?”

  “Not too bad.” Gabe stood up and looked down at his pants. One side of his body was caked in mud. His black sleeve and pants leg were brown. Mary was going to wonder what he’d been doing on the Sabbath to get his church clothes so dirty.

  “Gabe?” Ben’s mouth dropped open. “You’re bleeding.” He got off the bike and moved behind Gabe to check it out. “Your jacket is cut clear through right up to the top.”

  More damage. “I’m going to have to hide these clothes.”

  “And you’ve got a cut here. Not so bad, but there’s a nasty mark on your neck.”

  “I don’t care about a mark.” As soon as he said it, Gabe realized that other folks would notice it. Adam and Mary. And Emma …

  How was he going to explain it?

  “Good thing you had a helmet on,” Ben said, still poking at Gabe’s back. “I can’t see much more.”

  “I must have hit that rock.” Gabe looked down at the ground where he’d fallen. “Or the branch there.” Suddenly he felt a pinch in the tender area.

  “Does that hurt?” Ben asked.

  “Ya. Don’t touch it.”

  “Okay. I think you’ll live.” Ben stepped around to face him. “You want to go home?”

  “No.” Gabe wiped his muddy hands on his pants. “As long as I can hold on to the grips, I’m here to ride.”

  TWENTY-TWO

  I can’t wait until Gabe sees me in this dress.

  The crisp, dark fabric, so unlike the gem-toned everyday dresses Amish girls wore, made Emma feel like a woman.

  Mysterious and pretty.

  She twirled, watching the skirt lift ever so slightly.

  Her sister stood before her, trying to finish her task. “I can’t pin the apron if you’re going to keep spinning like a weather vane. But I’m glad you like it.”

  “This is the most wonderful surprise I’ve ever had,” Emma said as she smoothed the black organdy gown over her hips. Emma had
been asking around to borrow a black dress for her baptism, but the only one she’d found was small for her, and she had worried that it wasn’t modest enough. “Too much leg,” Fanny had said in agreement.

  She had been thinking about tacking a new skirt on when Elsie had brought out this brand-new dress. It was a surprise gift, sewn by her sister’s own hands. There were still some edges to be turned, but it covered her legs and fit her nicely.

  “I can’t believe you put this together without me knowing.”

  Elsie removed the straight pins from between her lips to say, “I wanted to surprise you.”

  “You did. Denki.” Emma stooped down to give her sister a warm hug. “But how did you find the money for the fabric?” Even with Emma’s teaching job and the shop, money was tight in their household. The store hadn’t been doing so well in the last year.

  “It wasn’t so much. We sell the material, so I got the wholesale price. And I made a little extra last week from selling two cases of those lavender soaps that Mary Zook makes.”

  “What do you think?” Emma held out her arms.

  Elsie stepped back for a better look. “It’s a very good fit.”

  “You have a good eye for sewing projects,” Emma told her sister. “I wish you would come to the next quilting bee with me. You’d enjoy it, and folks are always asking about you.”

  “But I’m always busy with the shop.” Elsie handed her the material they’d cut for the apron and Emma held it to her waist. “How’s that?”

  Elsie squinted thoughtfully as she pinned two of the corners. “Be glad that our Order has us wear colors. Black isn’t so good for you.”

  “It’s a serious color for a serious occasion,” Emma said as she smoothed down an edge of the apron.

  “If you’ll hold still, I’ll pin the hem for you.” Elsie took the pincushion and got down on her knees. “We’ll keep it plenty long, in case one of our sisters ends up being taller than you,” Elsie said.

  “And what about you?” Emma asked. “You’ll want to wear this when you get baptized.”

  Elsie folded over a section of the hem. “I’ll borrow something from a short person like me. For me to wear this dress, there’d be too much sewing. Like trying to turn a chicken into a pig. At the end of the day, there’d be too many feathers flying.”

  Emma was looking forward to next week. The baptism was one of the things she had always watched with longing as a girl. It was a serious vow, the promise to obey the Ordnung for the rest of your life. But it was also an important crossing to the next part of her life. She was ready to cross over this bridge and become a member of the Amish community. She had been raised to be a good Amish woman, and she had always tried to make her life an example of good behavior for her students.

  “You’re such a big help,” Fanny always told her when Emma helped with the chores or corralled her younger siblings for their mother. Good-natured Fanny had come along when Emma had worried that her dat might die of loneliness after their mother’s death. And though it had felt a little odd watching her dat marry, Emma had welcomed Fanny into the house. Fanny and Tom had two children of their own now, and Emma had been glad to help with the household chores as each baby came along. Emma had always found joy in putting the kitchen in order, tidying up the bedrooms, sweeping and scrubbing. When she was little Mamm had taught her how to mend things, and she had whiled away many happy evenings mending clothes from the family’s sewing bag.

  Emma liked order. She engaged her scholars to help her keep the classroom tidy, and supplies of paper, pencils, and erasers were arranged in neat rows in her desk drawers. Order made sense to her, and she didn’t understand how folks could think straight when their home was a tangled mess.

  Once, while walking in Halfway, she had passed a parked automobile that was piled high with … things. Stacks of old newspapers, clothes, and shoes. Crumpled trash bags from fast-food restaurants. A tattered sweater, a tennis racket, and a torn book. Emma had stared at the car in alarm, wondering how that poor person could bear to be near such clutter.

  Although the Amish way was to keep a tidy household, Emma knew her strict sense of order wasn’t shared by everyone. Folks like Gabe King saw things differently.

  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, imagining Gabe’s arms around her. She and Gabe were so different, but there was no denying the strong attraction between them. Emma crossed her arms and ran her fingers along the edges of the stark white cape pinned over her dress.

  Her new dress for the baptism.

  How she wished Gabe had taken the classes with the ministers. Now he would have to wait another year to be baptized. Which meant that he wouldn’t be allowed to marry in the Amish faith this year.

  Another year to wait …

  It would have been wonderful if Gabe was getting baptized in the group with her, but all the wishing in the world wouldn’t make it so. Gabe said he wasn’t ready, and most Amish folk respected a young person’s choice to wait … as long as it was clear that he would eventually come around.

  “Isn’t it too bad that Gabe had to be with his family today?” Elsie pinned the back of the dress.

  Emma smiled. “How did you know I was thinking of Gabe?”

  “Aren’t you always thinking of Gabe?” Elsie teased.

  “Only … most of the time,” Emma admitted.

  “I wanted him to come to dinner tonight. I think he and Dat will hit it off. They’re both interested in farming and cows.”

  Their dat had been raised on a dairy farm, and his stories of the farm always brought a smile to his face. Emma sensed that he missed the dairy business, but he couldn’t afford a dairy farm of his own, and when he married Mamm he came into her family’s business with the shop in town.

  “It would have been nice to have Gabe here,” Emma said, “but it’s good that he’s spending time with his family. A man needs to put his family first.”

  “That’s true. I guess I just don’t have your patience, Em. I want what I want when I want it.”

  Emma grinned down at her sister. Was there a heart more pure than Elsie’s? “Your honesty is a virtue, but the bishop would remind you that you shouldn’t want too much. We live on this earth, but not of it.”

  “I know that.” Elsie shrugged. “I’m working on it.”

  TWENTY-THREE

  How did it get to be so late?” Ben asked as they headed home, Mercury hitched to the small gray carriage.

  “That’s the only problem with dirt biking,” Gabe said. “Once you start, it’s very hard to stop.”

  “We’re late now,” Ben said. “Dinner is on the table already, and I’m sure that there’s been some talk about the two of us being missing.”

  Gabe squinted at the rain that left drops running down the windshield. They just needed to come up with words that were truthful. “We’ll tell them we were off riding and we lost track of time.” He turned to his cousin, who was frowning, his face in a sour pucker. “What’s wrong with saying that? It’s true.”

  “A half-truth. Besides, you can’t go in like that. There’s blood on your shirt and your jacket’s torn. Mamm won’t even let you into the kitchen with so much mud on your pants.”

  Gabe growled. He was hungry for Betsy’s good cooking, but Ben was right. He couldn’t arrive for dinner at their house looking like this. “Why don’t we go to my house first? I’ll wash up and change clothes. You can wash up, too.”

  “That’ll make us even later.” Ben shook his head. “Blake said it’s after five. We both have cows to milk.”

  “Ya.” Gabe’s mood was turning as dark and gray as the weather. “What can we do? Sneak into the barn?”

  “You can drop me off at home. I’ll go straight to the barn. You’d better go home and clean up that blood before your family gets back from visiting.”

  It was a good plan. “Isn’t there some way I can get dinner from your mamm tonight?”

  Ben shook his head. “Not unless you want to answer a hundred quest
ions.”

  “Mmm. I really want dinner, but I don’t like questions.” Gabe decided to drop Ben off, then head home. When he arrived at the farm and pulled up beside the barn, he was relieved to see two carriages still gone. He would have the house to himself for now.

  He stripped down to his underwear on the screened porch, but decided not to put his clothes in the laundry bin. His jacket had a tear clear through the fabric. The top of his shirt had a small hole, and it was covered in blood. He balled them up, carried them upstairs, and stuffed them under his bed.

  Inside the bathroom, he couldn’t see the wound in the clouded shaving mirror, but the spot was still tender and a scab was forming. Grateful no one was home, he stepped into the shower to get cleaned up.

  Gabe was in the milking barn, leading Daisy to a stall, when he saw the gray carriage through the wide barn door. The family was back.

  He tied Daisy to the stanchion, then leaned under the cow to quickly clean her teats. Then he attached the hoses and let the machine do the work.

  Gabe straightened, ignoring the ache in his shoulder as he looked over the half-dozen cows that were already hooked up to machines. This was a good plan. Adam would be glad that Gabe had the milking going. That would keep him from being too mad about Gabe missing Sunday dinner and visits with the family.

  A few minutes later Adam came into the milking barn, with Ruthie and Simon trailing behind him.

  “We didn’t mean to stay that late,” Adam said, resting a hand on a steel post. “I see you’ve started.”

  “Ya. Once I knew I’d missed dinner, I figured I’d better get the milking going.”

  Ruthie and Simon started tending to the cows. Simon lugged a six-gallon container of milk to the big vat, while Ruthie released the hoses from another cow’s teats.

  Adam gave the stalls a quick look. “Do you need my help?” he asked Gabe.

  “The three of us can handle it.” The machines that Adam had recently installed had cut milking time down a lot. The process that used to take thirty minutes by hand now took only three minutes per cow. Such a difference!