When Sylvi balked at going, Aaron told her that he’d asked Grey to help Michael with the milking today so they could have this Sabbath day off. He wasn’t surprised that she was frustrated by his changing the milking roster without asking her, but he had thought she’d be more open to the idea of getting away for a night.
Instead, she seemed uninterested and distant. She was polite, but she carried an unusual coolness about her.
Sylvi hadn’t come to the house for breakfast this morning, and he’d gone to Frani’s just before lunchtime. He wanted to be a friend to Frani as he should’ve been years ago when she first started talking about getting sober. She couldn’t do it on her own any more than he could have.
Aaron checked the clock. It was almost three, so Lena and her Daed would arrive soon. Since hiring drivers wasn’t allowed on Sundays, they’d travel by carriage to Hope Crossing. He finished shaving and put on his Sunday pants and shirt. When he stepped outside, he saw Sylvi walking into the barn. She probably wanted to speak to Grey about the evening milking.
Aaron hurried across the triple-wide driveway that separated the house from the barn. “Hey, Sylvi.” He stepped out of the heat and into the milking parlor. She turned. “You’re going tonight, right?”
She backed away, looking at the horizon as if trying to block him out. “No, but denki.”
The sound of gravel under the wheels of a carriage let him know Lena and her Daed were approaching.
“You need to get away for a few hours.”
She glanced at him, but rather than frustration he thought he saw fear or concern. “I’d rather stay here and help with the evening milking.”
He’d had an easier time reading her that first morning in the milking barn than he was having now. What was going on?
Israel brought the open carriage to a halt near them. “Afternoon.”
Aaron turned. “Hi, Israel, Lena. We need a few moments.”
“Gut.” Israel climbed down. “I want to speak to your Daed, and Lena brought your Mamm flowers.” He went around and helped Lena out of the carriage since her medical boot and the cast on her arm made the process awkward.
“Daed, this is Sylvia.” Lena shifted the pot of flowers she held. “Sylvia, this is my Daed, Israel.”
A few niceties passed between them before Lena walked to the house and Israel went into the barn.
“You need a break,” Aaron said. “We worked hard last week and have another tough one coming up.”
“Why do you care what I do? Can’t I spend the day however I like?”
“There’s a real person inside you, not just a farmhand. I think you do your best to keep her locked up under a constant work load. Am I wrong?”
“I don’t—”
“I know. You don’t want to talk about it.”
From the corner of his eye, he saw Lena and his Mamm come out of the house and cross the driveway.
“You’ve isolated yourself long enough. Someone should have insisted you meet a few people before now. You’re letting Daed use you for his benefit, and I’m using you to get this farm sale-ready, and it all starts again tomorrow. Now, please, get in the rig.”
“You can’t insist I go.”
“Then can I bribe you?”
She looked at him as if his behavior disappointed her. “No.”
“It’s a simple evening out. Why does it have to be a big deal?”
Grey, Daed, and Israel came out of the barn, talking. Lena and his Mamm drew near and waited.
“We’re ready,” Aaron said loudly and motioned for her to go to the rig.
Sylvi didn’t budge.
“Aaron.” Daed moved forward. “Is there a problem?”
“We shouldn’t ask so much of her. And she shouldn’t give it. Seven days a week is too much.”
“Actually, Dora and I were talking about this last night. We have asked too much.” Daed winked at Sylvia. “I hear that Ada’s House is never dull.”
While his Daed spoke softly to her, she glanced at Aaron, those beautiful brown eyes expressing hundreds of thoughts he’d like to be privy to.
What he’d really like to know is why he cared what she thought or felt. In spite of a few pleasant conversations here and there, they weren’t friends. They weren’t exactly enemies, but they were close to it—in a civilized, respectful sort of way. Her patience and gentleness caused him to drop his normal obnoxious shield.
Sylvia turned to Lena. “I didn’t mean to be rude, and it really is a nice invitation.”
“You know,” Grey said, “I can come every Sunday evening to help Michael.”
“And I could come by every Sunday morning,” Israel said.
Daed shrugged. “I don’t know. That’s an awful lot to ask of—”
“We’ll take the help.” Aaron shook Israel’s hand and then Grey’s. “Sylvi will be off every Sunday. Daed and I will rotate Sundays. Denki. Now that it’s settled, it’s time to go.”
Anger flitted through Sylvia’s eyes. He’d stepped far over the bounds of dealing with what she considered her herd. But he didn’t care. She needed one day of rest a week, and now she had it.
He opened the door to the carriage. “Sylvi, get in, please, or I’ll tie you to one of the horses.”
She got in, but her tight mouth and stiff movements indicated she was not at peace, nor was she eagerly anticipating the evening.
Sylvia felt like an overstretched rubber band—taut and at the breaking point. Frustration with Aaron banged around inside her, but he was right. She had kept herself buried under a heavy work load. She had since Beckie and Elam had betrayed her. Before that, work was enjoyable but just one aspect of who she was. Now work was everything. She hadn’t expected anyone to figure that out, least of all Aaron Blank.
When they finally arrived at Ada’s House, Aaron helped Lena out of the rig. Before he could turn to help Sylvia, she jumped down. He was so pushy.
The white clapboard house looked huge and homey and inviting. A hand-painted wooden sign out front read “Ada’s House, Baked Goods and Seasonal Activities.”
A woman in her late thirties or early forties opened the front door. “Welcome. Welcome. I’m Ada. Since yours is the only face I don’t recognize, I’m going to say you’re Sylvia.”
Sylvia nodded, unsure whether to offer her hand or not.
Before she could decide, Ada hugged her. “I’m so glad you came.” She turned to Aaron with obvious pleasure. “Look at you. You are a sight for sore eyes, young man.” She engulfed him in a hug too. “I bet your parents are glowing.”
“Not so much.”
“Don’t worry. They’ll come around.”
Ada’s eyes moved to Israel. “Good evening.”
He removed his hat. “Ada. It’s always nice to get another invite.”
“And you’re always welcome, but tonight is Cara’s doing. She and Deborah and Lori are taking a load of items up the mountain. She’ll be back shortly.”
“Ada,” Lena said, “how about giving Aaron and Sylvia a tour?”
“Sure. Kumm.”
They went through the house and walked the grounds. Five days a week—Tuesday through Saturday—Ada, Deborah, and Cara made desserts, and five nights a week they sold them, along with Amish-made items like jellies, canned goods, wall hangings, dolls, and furniture Israel made. People paid for tours, hayrides, and various events that changed with the season—like going through a corn maze in the fall and cutting fresh ears of corn off the stalk, shucking them, and cooking them in an outdoor kettle.
Sylvia couldn’t imagine wanting to see so many strangers every day, but Aaron had lots of questions and seemed quite taken with the idea.
When they went into the kitchen, a young woman came in the back door. “Ada, did you—” She stopped short. “Oh, we have guests.”
“Cara, this is Aaron Blank,” Ada said.
“Blank?” Cara repeated, clearly trying to place him. “Oh, Lena’s friend.”
Aaron laughed. “Ther
e are so many descriptions you could have used just then, and you happened to choose my favorite.”
Ada put her hand on Cara’s shoulder. “This is Sylvia. She’s new to Dry Lake.”
“Ah, someone newer than me. Good.”
“You live in Dry Lake?” Sylvia asked.
“No, but I stayed there for a few months. My fiancé and his family live there, so it’ll be home for me … one day. Ada and Deborah are from there. Of course, everyone is related or connected somehow. It drives me nuts trying to figure it all out. Do you know everyone already?”
“Not at all. Aaron and his parents mostly.”
“Mom!” A little girl jerked open the screen door and ran inside. “Can Better Days go with us when we go up on the mountain?”
“I don’t think so, honey. We’ll have picnic foods spread out on the ground, and you know how uncontrollable he gets.”
“Please?”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Hello?” a man’s voice called out.
Cara’s eyes lit up, and she and Lori headed for the front door.
Ada laughed. “That’d be the fiancé.”
Sylvia met Ephraim, his sister Deborah, and Deborah’s beau, Jonathan. Everyone grabbed something—a game, a snack food, or a drink—to take up the mountain. Sylvia carried a blanket. She hadn’t seen this much bustle of activity since leaving home. As she thought of her sisters, she longed to see them again.
Ephraim put Better Days on a leash and passed it to Lori. Lena sat on the back of the cart with her feet dangling toward the ground. They began the trek up the hill.
Ephraim and Cara walked to the far left of the group, talking quietly together. Deborah and Jonathan went ahead of the cart, walking hand in hand. Israel led the horse, and Ada walked beside him, leaving only Lori and Sylvia behind the cart.
Aaron walked up beside her. “Are you talking to me yet?”
“Only if you make me or embarrass me in front of a group of people, which you seem to insist on doing.”
His shoulders slumped slightly. He walked to the cart and jumped onto the back beside Lena.
Sylvia determined to look in any direction except his, but she could feel his eyes on her. In a moment of weakness, she looked at him, and he held her gaze.
She wasn’t sure what his relationship was with Lena. When he’d brought her to the cabin last night to invite Sylvia to come today, she’d been confident they were seeing each other, though Michael and Dora had said nothing about a girlfriend. It was part of the reason she didn’t like his invitation to come tonight. She had no interest in being a third wheel. Besides, he didn’t act like he had a girlfriend, and that bothered her. A man should talk about his girl. Be clear about his feelings for her.
But this evening Aaron and Lena seemed more like friends. However, Sylvia wasn’t good at reading signals between men and women. She’d had no clue Elam cared for Beckie, yet he loved her enough to carelessly and quickly throw Sylvia aside. It became obvious that while Elam and Sylvia courted, he and Beckie had been having moments together—the kind that looked innocent but entered the soul and drew one human to another.
She turned her attention to Lori and Better Days. Lori slid her hand into Sylvia’s and smiled up at her. The simple gesture warmed Sylvia’s heart.
“ ’From and Mama are getting married, and I can’t wait.”
“That’s nice.”
“I don’t remember my daddy. Mom says he died when I was two. I think ’From needs us. He lives all by himself.”
“I live by myself too.”
“I think that’s sad. I like living with lots of people in the house, especially my mom. When I’m old like you, I’m gonna have lots of friends live with me.” Lori splayed her hand. “And five dogs.”
Sylvia chuckled.
The more they talked, the more Sylvia longed to see her sisters. Lizzie would turn twenty soon. Naomi had just begun her rumschpringe. Next year Lilly would be sixteen and of age to attend singings. Would her youngest sisters begin to forget her?
Aaron got off the back of the cart and moved somewhere ahead of it and out of sight. Several minutes later he returned with a handful of wild-flowers and held them out to her. “I know I was out of line, and I’m sorry I embarrassed you. Truce?”
She took the flowers, feeling as confused about who this man was as she had the night he’d broken into her cabin.
When they reached the picnic spot, she spread out her blanket and helped Ada lay three others side by side. They all ate together, and the food was delicious and the conversations entertaining. Lori moved from adult to adult, clearly welcome in every heart.
Each woman came over and sat with Sylvia at some point, welcoming her warmly and chatting or inviting her to play games. Sylvia joined the group for badminton and volleyball.
Aaron partnered with various people at those same games, including her. Until tonight she’d had no idea he had such a deep, wonderful laugh.
The sun slid below the horizon, painting the sky with streaks of purple and pink. The men built a small fire, and the women roasted marshmallows. Ephraim set up his telescope, but Sylvia lay on her back, watching the stars. The dark sky looked like a beautiful, dazzling ceiling when in reality it was openness that went on forever. A longing to talk to God washed over her, but she didn’t know what she could say that He’d be willing to hear.
Aaron sat beside her and lay back. He was silent for so long that she wondered if he’d fallen asleep. When she turned her head to look, his eyes were open, staring into space.
If anyone could handle how she felt about church without totally disrespecting her, Aaron could. Connecting with God through prayer and songs used to be fun—seven days a week, but especially on church Sundays. Gathering with loved ones and focusing on the creator of all things had made her soul sing. But how long had it been since then? Since she betrayed God, or since He let Elam betray her?
“You’ve freed up my Sundays, but I can’t go to church,” she said.
Aaron rolled on his side, facing her, quietly thoughtful for several long moments. “Why?”
She shook her head. “I … I used to love going before …”
“Yeah, I figure anyone who can tolerate milking cows twice a day, seven days a week, wouldn’t feel the services are too long or boring.”
“You didn’t go last week either.”
“I was embarrassed to see people when I first returned. Lots of reasons to feel that way—all of them my own fault. We haven’t talked about this, but I know you’ve been told that I’m partially responsible for my sister’s death. Everyone knows it, but no one says a word to me.”
“I don’t think anyone blames you, certainly not your Mamm or Daed.”
His brows furrowed. “Sure they do.”
“No they don’t. Michael blames himself.”
“But he never said … and I thought.” His voice sounded hoarse.
Before Aaron had returned, Michael had said a lot of things about him. Things she wouldn’t tell. It wasn’t her place. But it sickened her to know how much Michael cared and how little he showed that to Aaron.
“Talking with parents doesn’t come easy,” she said, “for them or for us.”
He cleared his throat. “Some are better at it than others. Watch Lena and her Daed.”
Sylvia wondered if Lena’s close relationship with her father was one of the things Aaron liked about her. A wave of envy rippled through her, catching her by surprise. Did she really care what he admired about Lena?
Shaking off the unwanted thoughts, she said, “Speaking of Lena, she told me a few minutes ago that my invitation to this event was your doing.”
“I figured it was about time you had a little fun.”
“It was nice of you.”
“That happens every once in a while. Catches me off guard every time.”
She laughed. “I can’t remember when I’ve had a better time. Everybody’s been friendly and fun. Authentic … which is nic
e.”
“Well, everyone here has their own troubles. Lena’s been in hot water with the school board this past year. Ephraim was shunned. Ada’s son was once engaged to Deborah, but he left without a word to anyone. Church leaders asked Cara to leave Dry Lake. I don’t know about Jonathan or Israel, but since they’re human, I’m sure they’ve received and given hurts and have embarrassments they can’t erase.”
“From what little your parents told me about you, I didn’t expect you to come back.”
“Me either. But the more time I spent in prayer, the more I knew I had to do two things—come home to face everyone and be a decent son to my parents.”
“Prayer?”
“Hard to believe, isn’t it? Before I hit bottom, the only words I said to God aren’t repeatable. My parents have their faults and all.” He paused. “But they deserve better than what I’ve dished out to them.”
Cara sat down on the other side of Sylvia and lay back on the blanket. “It’s time to stretch out and enjoy the sky with the naked eye.”
Ephraim lay beside her, and soon a long line of folks were lying on the blankets, staring at the sky.
Lori squeezed between Cara and Sylvia. “Let’s sing. Sylvia, do you know any good songs?”
“I bet I know one you’re familiar with. ‘Miss Mary Mack, Mack, Mack.’ ”
Lori bolted upright and sat with her legs crossed. She held up her little hands. “You know the clapping game?”
Sylvia sat up. “I most certainly do.”
“Think you can keep the pace?” Lori bobbed her head, exuding confidence. “Mom says I’m the best!”
They sang the song and changed up the clapping game as they went along.
“Your mom’s right,” Sylvia said. “You can move at this. But can you sing it in Pennsylvania Dutch?”
“I don’t know enough of those words yet.”
Sylvia sang the Pennsylvania Dutch lyrics, and they clapped hands to the rhythm.
Cara moved closer. “Say that first line again—‘all dressed in black’—in Pennsylvania Dutch.”
Sylvia repeated it, and Cara followed suit. Then Sylvia taught her the pronunciation of the next line.
The Harvest of Grace Page 13
