by Marta Perry
Leah nodded. The quilt frolic Barbara was hosting would be tomorrow, which meant that the house must be spotless. Leah pushed aside her plan to go over the materials from the clinic this afternoon.
“Mamm will enjoy the quilting, for sure.” She hung her bonnet on the peg in the back hall. Her mother’s quilts were works of art, with love in every stitch. “What are you working on tomorrow?”
“That tumbling blocks quilt. It’ll go to one of the wedding couples in November.” Her eyes twinkled. “Maybe Esther and Mahlon, if they get around to announcing in time.”
Leah smiled back at her sister-in-law. “I think they will, if Mahlon has anything to say about it.”
“Before you know it, it will be time to start a baby quilt,” Barbara said. She hung the cleaning rags on the wooden rack to dry.
“I guess so.” She thought again of Naomi’s children under their blue lights. Would Esther and Mahlon have healthy babies? “I’ll put my school things upstairs and come down to help you.”
Barbara nodded. “Ser gut. Oh, and if you have any nice tea towels in your dower chest, maybe we could use them tomorrow. I tried to look, but the chest is locked, it is.”
Leah’s hands tightened on the case that held her school materials, and she forced the grip to ease before she spoke. Barbara had been in her room, trying to open her dower chest.
Rachel’s words about living in another woman’s house surfaced in her mind. Rachel had been right, but how many choices did she have?
“Leah?” Barbara questioned.
“I’m not sure what I have. Is there something wrong with yours?”
“Ach, they’re worn through with using. Would be nice to have something pretty out when the sisters are here tomorrow.”
Given the number of times Leah had told her family that she didn’t intend to wed, Barbara’s request was only natural. She didn’t like it, but surely a few dish towels weren’t worth starting a family argument over.
“I’ll look and see what I have,” she said, and made her escape to her room.
Once upstairs, with the bedroom door closed behind her, she massaged her temples. Barbara meant well, she reminded herself. And this was her house now.
Still, some rebellious part of her wanted to lock the door, something she’d never done before in her life.
She put her school materials on the table under the window and turned to look at the dower chest that stood against the wall opposite her bed. Daadi had made it for her sixteenth birthday, and even though she’d known that would be her gift, she’d been overwhelmed by it.
She bent, stroking the warm grain of the wood. Daad had saved the pieces from the walnut tree near the spring after it came down in a storm. She and her brothers had played under that tree from her earliest memories, and touching it was like touching a piece of her life.
The key was in the top drawer of her dresser. She took it out, sat down on the rag rug, unlocked the chest, and lifted the lid.
She had put a clean sheet over the contents to protect them. Touching the fabric, she remembered the day she’d done that. It had been nearly a month after Johnny left the valley.
To her shame, it had taken her that long to face that he wasn’t coming back. The life they’d planned together would never be. She had to stop looking for him to return, put on a calm face, and never let anyone know how much it hurt.
She grasped the sheet and pulled it off in one quick movement. All this time, and still she didn’t want to face it.
There was a light knock at the door, and then it opened a few inches. She stiffened. If it was Barbara, come to press her about the dish towels, she might not be able to hang on to her temper.
“Leah? May I come in?” It was her mother.
“Of course.” She started to get up, but her mother had already entered, waving her back to her place.
“Sit, sit.” Mamm sank into the rocking chair. “Go on with what you were doing.”
Leah’s fingers clenched on the edge of the chest. “Barbara wanted to borrow some tea towels for tomorrow. I was just going to look for them.”
“I know.” Mamm’s voice was soft. “You don’t have to do that. I’ll settle it with Barbara.”
She shook her head. “No, it means nothing. It’s time I sorted these things out.” She lifted out the quilt that lay on top.
Mamma reached out to touch it. “That is the log cabin quilt that you and your grossmutter made together.”
“She did most of it.” Leah unfolded it, and the colorful geometric pattern spread between her and her mother. “I’ll never be the quilter she was. Or that you are as well. Look at those tiny stitches.”
“She loved making it with you, for sure. It’s something to treasure.”
Leah stared at the quilt. Once, she’d expected that it would cover her marriage bed. Now . . . Well, how foolish was it to keep it hidden away instead of using it?
“I should have it out, where I can see it every day and remember her.”
“Ja, that would be gut.” Mamm’s tone was careful.
Leah managed a smile. “I’m all right about it, Mamm. Really I am. I should have gotten these things out and made use of them a long time ago.”
“They were put away for your wedding. They come with memories.”
They were tangible reminders of the life she’d expected to have with Johnny. She’d been so happy with each thing she’d added, thinking about how she would use it in their new home. She lifted out a stack of tea towels.
“Life doesn’t always happen the way we think it will. It’s foolish to live in the past.”
Mamm’s face was troubled. “Does it still grieve you, thinking about Johnny? His coming back to the valley makes it harder, ain’t so?”
Did it? She wasn’t sure how to find an honest answer to that question. She looked into her mother’s worn face, trying to find the right words.
“It’s made me think about those times, for sure. I’m sorry for the way it ended.”
“Do you still love him?”
Did she? “I love the boy he was. I can’t stop doing that. But the man he is now—I don’t even know him. So how could I love him?”
Mamm leaned forward to touch her cheek lightly. “The heart has reasons of its own. I just don’t want you to be hurting any more because of him already.”
“I know, Mamm.” She covered her mother’s hand with hers, taking comfort from the gentle touch. “I’m not.”
“And I don’t want you to give up thoughts of marriage because of what happened with him.” Mamm sounded as stern as she ever could. “That wasn’t your doing, it was his.”
Leah pushed down the doubts that assailed her at that. “I know you want me to be happy, Mammi. But I don’t think marriage is for me. I am happy with my teaching.”
“You spill out so much love on other people’s children. Don’t you want to have your own to love?”
There was an odd little pain in her heart at that. “I’m contented,” she said firmly, remembering Lydia saying those words. “As much as most, married or single, I think.” She scrambled to her feet. “Now, let’s get these dish towels down to Barbara before she comes up looking for them.”
• • •
Six thirty in the morning that Saturday, and already the buggies were pulling in at the Stoltzfus farm. Leah watched the line of buggies ahead of her in the lane, letting Betty take her time. Aaron Stoltzfus’s barn had been destroyed by fire in a spring thunderstorm, and this was the day appointed for the barn raising.
In a few moments she was pulling into a grassy area, one of a veritable fleet of buggies parked in a neat row. No sooner had she stopped than several boys ran up to tend to the horses—their first job of the day. She greeted them before turning to her mother.
“Here we are, Mamm.” She considered asking her mother not to overdo,
but that would be futile. And really, Mamm looked bright-eyed and excited about the prospect of spending the whole day with the church family, doing a gut work.
Mamm was already sliding from the buggy, not waiting for help. “Hand me one of the baskets down, and I’ll take it.”
Obediently, Leah lifted the smallest of the baskets and gave it to her. “I’ll bring the rest,” she said firmly. “One of the boys will help me.”
Mamm trotted off toward the kitchen, and Leah unloaded the rest of the food and joined the chattering crowd of women and children moving along the lane. Daad, Levi, and Mahlon had come even earlier than they had, eager to get a start on the day’s work. Barbara would be along later, in their family buggy, wanting to let the little ones have their sleep.
Crews had come already to clear away the rubble, prepare the site, and lay the foundation. Today, with the entire church involved, the barn would be built.
Englischers sometimes wondered at the Amish reluctance to buy insurance on their property, probably seeing it as foolhardy. To the Plain People, that would be like trusting in the insurance instead of in God.
And if lightning did happen to strike, well, that was God’s will, and the whole community would join in rebuilding. Perhaps that was part of His plan, too, teaching them to rely on one another, building community at the same time that they raised the barn.
She followed the crowd into the kitchen, joining the group that would produce enough food to satisfy more than a hundred hungry folks come noon. The necessary chores, familiar to everyone, were quickly parceled out, just as they were outside among the men.
Leah found herself paired with Rachel and Naomi to slice bread and make sandwiches. The three of them were soon deep in conversation as they sliced and spread and piled meat and cheese high.
By ten, the food was ready as ready could be, and Leah’s head had started to ache with the constant chatter and clatter of pans.
“I’m going to help take drinks out to the men.” She spread a linen tea towel over a tray of sandwiches. “Want to come?”
“I’d best check on my young ones.” Rachel wiped her hands on a towel.
“Ja, me also,” Naomi said. For a moment her eyes clouded, and Leah suspected she was mentally counting the hours until she’d have to get the children home and under the lights again. “Gut to see you both. We don’t get to visit often enough.” She gave them a quick hug and scurried off.
Rachel stood motionless for a moment, watching her. “I wonder sometimes,” she said softly, for only Leah to hear. “I wonder if I would cope with such grace as Naomi does.”
“You would,” Leah murmured. “You do.”
Rachel looked startled for a moment, and then she nodded. “Ja. But having a brother go English is not as bad as if the grief were for my husband or my child. I think of her often.”
Leah nodded. She knew that Rachel really meant she prayed for Naomi, just as she did.
When Leah emerged from the house carrying a pitcher and paper cups, she had to blink at the scene that met her gaze. The ribs of the new barn rose toward the sky, the uprights pale and new-looking. They swarmed with men, busy as so many worker bees.
In their black pants, colored shirts, and straw hats, they might have looked alike to someone else, but she picked out individual people easily. There was Daad, consulting with Ammon Esh, who had overseen every barn raising in the valley since before she could remember.
Mahlon was up in the rafters, where he loved to be. Her breath caught as he walked along a beam as easily as strolling down the road. He’d always had a head for heights. He was the one called on when the kitten got too far up the tree or a kite was stuck in the branches.
Levi, hammer in hand, pounded away steadily and methodically, as he did everything.
Her brother Joseph wasn’t hard to find, since he was running the gas-powered winch that carried materials up to the top. Joseph’s talent with machinery was put to good use today.
Daniel worked not far from him, frowning a little as he framed in a door. She looked for Matthew and found him with the crew of young boys who were fetching and carrying for the men. They learned as they watched, handed nails, and held boards. In a few years they’d be taking their places in the work crew.
Was Elizabeth here today? She hadn’t seen her yet. The child worried her, especially after the incident at the rehearsal. She’d smoothed it over with Elizabeth, encouraging her to try again. Still, it worried her. Maybe she should have talked with Daniel about it, but she didn’t want to make too much of it.
She waved at Naomi, who had joined the cluster of younger children, and carried her pitcher and paper cups toward the barn. She’d start with Joseph, since she hadn’t seen him in more than a week.
“Leah.” His face lit when he saw her. “I wondered when you were going to remember your thirsty brother.”
She gave him a quick hug. “Thirsty, indeed,” she teased. “Looks to me as if you have it easy here in the shade with your machine.”
He grinned. “Daad always says, use your head and you won’t have to use your feet. Have you seen Myra yet?”
“Not to talk to so far, but I’ll catch up with her soon.”
There was a movement beside her, and she turned to find Matthew, staring at Joseph’s contraption with fascination.
“Matthew.” She touched his shoulder. “Joseph, this is our new neighbor, Matthew Glick. Matthew, my brother Joseph.”
Joseph nodded to the boy with his usual friendly smile. Matthew seemed almost too engrossed in the machinery to pay proper heed to the introductions.
“Did you make that?” he asked.
“I did. Are you interested in machinery?” Without waiting for the obvious answer, Joseph began describing how the winch worked, how he’d built it, and why it was an improvement over the last one.
Knowing that once Joseph had started on his precious machinery he’d go on for ages, Leah left his cup of water for him and started working her way along the perimeter of the barn.
In a few minutes she’d come to Daniel. “Water, Daniel?”
He put down his tools and took the cup she held out. He drained it quickly, the strong muscles of his neck working.
“Gut.” He handed her back the cup and wiped his forehead with the back of his arm, resettling his hat. “Though it might feel better to pour it over my head.”
“I can give you another for that,” she offered.
He shook his head, smiling, but then he seemed to sober as he glanced toward his son. “Is that another of your brothers?”
“Joseph. He’s between me and Mahlon in age. He has the farm machinery shop.”
Daniel’s face tightened with a concern she didn’t understand. “I hope Matthew isn’t being a pest.”
“Not at all. Joseph loves to find someone as interested in machinery as he is.”
“Matthew is that.” For some reason, that seemed to deepen his frown. Was he imagining his son deserting the farm to run a shop, like Joseph?
“A farmer has to know how to take care of his equipment as well as his animals,” she said.
“Ja.” He picked up his hammer and turned back to the door frame.
Well, that was that. Her conversations with Daniel always seemed to end in frustration, if not outright annoyance. And yet she couldn’t help being drawn to him, which made no sense at all.
By the time she returned from the barn, tables were being set up under the trees. She joined her sister-in-law Myra in covering them with tablecloths.
“I saw you talking with Daniel Glick,” Myra said as the tablecloth billowed between them. “Nice to have a new neighbor who is so helpful. And single and good-looking, too.”
Leah pulled her end of the cloth down sharply. Apparently the matchmaking had reached further than she’d thought.
“He’s very nice,” she sa
id flatly. “And how are you? It’s hard to believe, it is, that you and Joseph have been wed six months already. It seems yesterday that you were getting back from your wedding trip.”
“It seems that way to me, too,” Myra said, a flush coming up in her fair skin. “Being married is wonderful gut, Leah.”
The implication that she should try it wasn’t lost on Leah. She’d expected shy, sweet Myra, who always seemed a bit in awe of her schoolteacher sister-in-law, to refrain from joining the matchmaking.
“When you find the right person it is,” Leah said firmly. “You and Joseph are so gut together that it makes work light.”
“We are that.” The flush deepened, but at least she was distracted from marrying off Leah. “I’m not telling anyone else yet, but I wanted to tell you. I think, I pray, I might be pregnant.”
Leah went quickly to put her arms around Myra. “That would make us all so happy.”
“Don’t tell,” Myra cautioned. “I want to wait until I’m sure. But keeping it in today just seemed too hard—I had to tell someone or I’d burst.”
“I won’t say anything,” Leah assured her. She hugged her again.
Surely that wasn’t a tinge of envy she felt, was it? That would be wrong, and foolish besides.
“I just—” Myra hesitated, then seemed to gather up her courage to go on. “You are always so kind, Leah. You make me feel welcome in the family. I wish for you the happiness I feel, and Daniel seems so right for you. Especially since—”
She stopped, but Leah thought she could fill in the rest of that sentence. Especially since Johnny Kile had come back to the valley, making everyone fear that he might lure her away.
“I’m happy as I am,” she said, turning away. “Now I think it’s time to start getting the food ready to come out.”
But she couldn’t ignore the feeling, as she walked toward the kitchen, that gazes followed her, then turned to Daniel as folks wondered and speculated and wanted to make something happen that wouldn’t be.
