Return to Huckleberry Hill

by Jennifer Beckstrand

  Anna must have been very happy to see her plan working so well, even if the knitting group never met again.

  Fern cleared her throat. “On Wednesday, Reuben apologized to the twins, and I apologized to Eva.”

  “Eva was a gute addition to the knitting group,” Anna said, “even if I knew deep down inside that she and Reuben wouldn’t work out.”

  Reuben looked up from his tangled yarn. “What do you mean by that, Mammi?”

  It would do no good for Reuben to know that the knitting group was just a ruse to find Reuben a wife. “I’m going on a ride with Johnny Raber tonight,” Fern blurted out in hopes of diverting Reuben’s attention.

  It worked. His frown of concentration disappeared, replaced by something grumpier. “Ach. I forgot.” He sighed in resignation. “It’s my fault.”

  “I don’t mind.”

  Anna’s frown matched Reuben’s. “You’re going for a ride with Johnny Raber? That will never do. I was hoping you’d spend the evening with us helping Reuben with his blanket or his pot holder or whatever it is he’s making.”

  Fern had a feeling that Anna would not be able, in good conscience, to give Reuben’s blanket to an unsuspecting baby. “You will have to take over for me, Anna.”

  Anna shook her head. “It has to be you and only you, Fern. I’ve chosen you specifically for this. You’re so much more patient than I am about such things.”

  Fern couldn’t imagine anyone being more patient than Anna Helmuth. “I’m sorry. Eva doesn’t want Johnny to turn out like her brother Melvin.”

  “And she thinks one buggy ride is going to cure him?” Anna said.

  “I think she’s hoping one ride will lead to another and another and maybe a gathering or a singeon,” Fern said, ignoring the probing look coming from Reuben’s direction.

  “And will it?” Felty said behind his paper. He had a way of inserting himself into the conversation when no one thought he was listening.

  “Will it what?”

  “Lead to another ride? Johnny is as shy as a church mouse.”

  Fern’s lips twitched upward. She sort of liked that concerned look on Reuben’s face, as if he cared whether or not she’d go on another ride with Johnny. “Well, I don’t know. I do enjoy talking as much as I want without the inconvenience of being interrupted.”

  Reuben cracked a smile and shook his head. “I’d feel better if I knew you weren’t looking forward to it.”

  “Of course she’s not looking forward to it,” Anna said. “She’d rather be here knitting with us.”

  “Of course she would,” Reuben said, with the slightest hint of hope in his voice.

  “That’s why we need to reunite the knitting group.” Anna set her knitting on her lap and held up her fingers as she counted. “Sadie, Esther, Clara, Carolyn, and Eva. What about Lorene?”

  “I’ve talked to Lorene too,” Reuben said, nodding at Fern.

  “You went by yourself?” she said.

  “Jah. Yesterday after I finished Sadie’s chicken coop.”

  Fern felt dull and tired. She’d been at work all day yesterday, and Reuben had needed her.

  “I went to see Lorene before her anger boiled over. Clara and Carolyn said she was pretty mad.”

  Fern didn’t know whether to be proud of him for having the courage to go by himself or cross with him for doing something that they’d only done together.

  “I took her a tub of peanut-butter-chocolate drops.”

  “That was smart of you,” Fern said. “How did she react?”

  “She answered the door and pulled me into the house as if I was one of the family. Before I could say a word, she told me she’d forgiven me days ago and would I like to meet her family? She introduced me to three brothers, two sisters, her cat Sally, and her mamm. Then she took me outside to the barn where we met her dat, two other brothers, her chickens, and her horses. She gave me a tour of the barn and invited me to dinner.” Reuben paused to take a breath. “And, she wants to start the group again as soon as possible.”

  “Lorene is such a gute girl, even if she’s not the girl I have in mind.” Anna picked up her knitting. “What about Dorothy? I know she’s older and just comes for the knitting, but you still need to apologize to her. If I’m the heart of the knitting group, then Dorothy is for sure and certain the brain. Or maybe she’s another heart.” Anna wrinkled her brow. “Although I tend to think of Fern as the second heart. Or maybe Fern is the true heart as everything depends on her. But what about Dorothy? I know she took the breakup of the knitting group very hard. She’d rather knit than do just about anything else.”

  Well, not exactly. Dorothy would be perfectly content if the knitting group never met again. “We’ve been to see Dorothy. She was very gracious,” Fern said.

  Reuben abandoned his knitting. He probably found it hard to think about two problems at once. “Mammi and Dawdi, I need your help. Dorothy asked me to do something for her, and I don’t know quite how to go about it.”

  Anna nodded. “She wants you to find her a husband.”

  Fern’s eyes widened at the same time Reuben’s did. “How did you know?” she said.

  Anna waved her knitting needles in Fern’s direction. “Every girl wants a husband.”

  Felty folded his paper down so they could see his face. “Every man would want a wife if all the girls was like you, Annie-banannie.”

  “Now, Felty,” Anna said. “Dorothy has just as much sense as I do, and she’s almost as gute a cook. Surely there’s someone who can see what a catch she is.”

  “She has her eye on Melvin Raber,” Reuben said. “And Fern says he’s as shy as his brother Johnny.”

  Felty fingered the beard on his chin. “Melvin Raber just as soon throw up as talk to a girl. I know. I seen him do it once.”

  “He likes my rice, bacon, and apricot salad,” Anna said. “I took some to him when he had a cold last fall, and though he never says much, he was truly speechless.”

  “Dorothy is willing to bake,” Fern said.

  Anna inclined her head toward Reuben. “To make a match, you have to be sly, and you must either do a lot of baking or a lot of knitting.”

  Felty’s paper crunched as he crinkled it into his lap. “We should leave poor Melvin be. Nobody likes throwing up. Maybe he doesn’t want to marry.”

  “But Dorothy does,” Anna said, “so we’ve got to make Melvin see reason. He could stop himself from throwing up if he really wanted to. This is a gute project for Fern and Reuben to work on together.”

  “But what can we do?” Reuben said.

  Warmth spread down Fern’s arms. Reuben said “we.” He depended on her, even if he had gone to Lorene’s by himself.

  Anna pursed her lips, deep in thought. “I don’t think we should stoop to deceit, but what about a little trickery?”

  “Is there a difference?” Fern said.

  “Dorothy could lose her buggy wheel right in front of Melvin’s house in a pouring rainstorm. He’d have to help her fix it.”

  Reuben frowned. “But, Mammi, I’ve never seen a buggy wheel just fall off.”

  Anna nodded. “Jah. We’d have to be clever. And we’d have to wait for a rainstorm. And Melvin would have to be at home.”

  Felty didn’t seem so sure. “It’s a wonderful-gute idea, but it would risk Dorothy getting hurt. I don’t think she would be willing to break her neck in the name of love.”

  Anna smiled eagerly at her husband. “I think she would.”

  Felty’s eyes brightened as an idea seemed to light upon him like a bird. “Melvin plays the license plate game.”

  “Now, Felty dear. How is the license plate game going to help Melvin and Dorothy?”

  “Leave that to me and Reuben,” Felty said. “All I know is that Virginia is for Lovers, Alabama is the Heart of Dixie, New Mexico is the Land of Enchantment, and Ohio is the Heart of It All. That’s romantic enough for me.”

  For Fern too. She couldn’t wait to see what Felty had in store.<
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  Chapter Fourteen

  Reuben knew it was wicked of him, but he’d never wished so hard that the minister would end his sermon and let them all out of church half an hour early. It would never happen, but he could hope, couldn’t he?

  Gmay had never seemed so long—not on the day he’d been baptized two years ago and surprisingly, not even on the day after Linda Sue had broken up with him. It had been all Reuben could do not to tap his foot impatiently during “Das Loblied.” The Vorsinger must have sensed his restlessness, because he had cast a frown at Reuben and taken the song even slower.

  Reuben couldn’t help it that curiosity had made him antsy. Fern sat among the women and girls to his right. The Burkholders’ great room was a wide space, so the men and women weren’t facing each other this time, and he couldn’t get a gute look to see if she had a dreamy expression on her face or if her eyes were glazed over with infatuation. It wasn’t likely that she’d fallen in love with Johnny Raber after one buggy ride, but for some reason, the possibility had Reuben stewing.

  It didn’t help that Johnny Raber was sitting right behind him, his shoulders rounded and his eyes dull and lifeless like they always were, no doubt gloating that he’d spent Friday night driving Fern around when she should have been home with Reuben knitting a blanket or a pot holder or a mitten. Reuben didn’t like it one little bit, and he couldn’t wait to corner Fern after services and make sure she hadn’t promised her hand in marriage to Johnny Raber.

  Reuben sat between Aaron Glick and Matthew Eicher, boys in the district he’d made friends with at one of the gatherings. Matthew was popular with the girls because of his golden hair and shocking blue eyes. Aaron had a girlfriend but was wonderful fun to be around when he was in a gute mood. Aaron and Reuben had gone fishing last week before Reuben had painted Sadie’s chicken coop. They’d caught enough fish for both of them, and Mammi had made her famous Trout Mango Stew.

  Reuben shifted on the bench. The minister was talking about the Sermon on the Mount and being our brother’s keeper. That’s all Reuben was trying to do with Fern. She was far from home and someone needed to watch out for her. On Saturday night, he’d even considered going to the Schmuckers’ house and waiting for her to come home from work, but he had decided against it because he didn’t know when she got home or if she would think he was being nosy.

  If only she’d told him where she worked, he could have gone to visit her there. Why was it such a big secret? Did she work for an Englischer? Around here, that was very likely, and it was nothing to be ashamed about. Lots of the Amish worked out, and Fern hadn’t been baptized yet. He wouldn’t think less of her for that. Besides, though she hadn’t said so, he knew her family needed the money. With the Schmuckers feeding her and giving her a place to stay, she was probably sending most of her earnings back home.

  Reuben leaned forward and sneaked a peek to his right. He could just make out Fern’s profile among a sea of girls. She sat with the twins on one side and Lorene Zook on the other, watching the minister intently, as if she was listening. She probably was, which was what Reuben should have been doing, but he couldn’t pull his thoughts from that buggy ride. Johnny Raber might be more charming than he appeared.

  Surely he was at least as charming as a mailbox.

  Finally services ended, and Reuben bolted too eagerly from his bench to help set up tables, keeping Fern fixed in the corner of his eye. She helped with the food, dishing peanut butter and cheese spread into smaller bowls, slicing bread, and looking especially radiant today with her drab brown dress and bright, sparkling eyes. Her kapp always seemed to be barely able to contain her unruly curls, and there were always a few spirals that escaped and teased Reuben to reach out and touch them. He pressed his palms against his trousers and rubbed up and down vigorously to stop his fingers from tingling.

  “Cum, Reuben,” Aaron said, pointing to the table nearest the window. “Sit by us. Lily said she would serve us first.”

  Of course Reuben wanted to sit with Matthew and Aaron and his other new friends in the district, but he was wonderful itchy to talk to Fern too. The minute fellowship supper was over, he would find her. He could only be patient for so long.

  He positioned himself so he had full view of the kitchen and Fern. She picked up a platter of bread and passed it down one of the tables. Reuben pressed his lips together. Johnny Raber seemed to be waiting for her to emerge from behind the counter. He followed her down the rows of tables like a puppy hoping someone would drop a morsel of food. Reuben clenched his teeth as Fern turned to Johnny and gave him one of her nicest smiles, as if she was very happy to have him tag along after her. His face felt like it was on fire when she said something and Johnny said something back.

  Reuben unclenched his fist. It shouldn’t irritate him that Fern was just being friendly. Fern was the friendliest person he knew. Of course she’d try to be nice to Johnny Raber. As a Christian, she was supposed to be nice to everybody.

  Reuben couldn’t really follow the conversation at the table. Matthew was talking about the time he did donuts with his buggy in the parking lot at the Lark Country Store, and Aaron wanted to plan a fishing trip on the Wisconsin River during the summer.

  The minute he finished his last bite of bread, Reuben jumped to his feet, stuffed his plate in the garbage can, and made a beeline for Fern, who was sitting next to Clara Yutzy—or Carolyn. Fern looked up and smiled at him as if maybe she wasn’t in love with Johnny Raber. Relaxing a little, he smiled back and slowed his steps. He didn’t want her to think she was under attack.

  Before he could say a word to Fern, Sadie seemed to appear out of nowhere. She and Esther positioned themselves between Reuben and Fern, an obstacle Reuben couldn’t simply knock over. They hadn’t done it on purpose, but Reuben almost groaned, all the same. Hearing all about the buggy ride with Johnny Raber would have to wait. Keeping Sadie happy was more important. If he truly wanted to fit in here in Bonduel, he needed to be close with the bishop’s daughter. Unfortunately, Esther was the bishop’s daughter’s best friend. Reuben had to get on her gute side too.

  “Reuben,” Sadie said, her smile as bright as a sparkler on the Fourth of July. “How are you? We sure miss the knitting group, don’t we, Esther?”

  Esther squinted in Reuben’s direction as if in warning. “I don’t miss it. I hate to knit. Good riddance yet.”

  Reuben had been given strict instructions from Sadie that Esther never be told about the fence and the chicken coop. He’d been given strict instructions from Esther that Sadie shouldn’t know about the dog washing. How the two of them could be friends and keep such secrets was beyond Reuben’s comprehension.

  Reuben pretended to keep his attention focused squarely on Sadie as he glanced furtively in Fern’s direction. She had turned her back on him, and she and the twins were clearing off their table. Hopefully she wouldn’t go very far before he had a chance to talk to her.

  Sadie glanced behind her in Fern’s direction. “Esther, go get two dishrags. We should help wipe tables.”

  Esther lifted one side of her lip in disgust. “I’m not your servant.”

  Sadie sighed loudly and gave Reuben a look of patient forbearance. “Just go, Esther. It’s silly for both of us to go fetch a rag when you can just as well get one for both of us.”

  Esther looked daggers at Reuben before slouching away, as if it were somehow his fault that her best friend wanted to get rid of her. It probably was.

  Sadie leaned closer and lowered her voice. “You’re still coming tomorrow, aren’t you?”

  “Jah,” he said, unable to keep his eyes from another glance at Fern. “I want to see the dairy.”

  “It’s growing bigger every year. The Englisch love the organic. My dat hired two new workers last week. He can’t keep up on the work with only him and my bruders. He bought two new milking machines too. We’ll soon be one of the largest dairies in the state. We already give more money to the church than anybody in the district.” She drew her brow
s together. “I mean, I think we do. Dat hasn’t ever come right out and said it. That would be proud.”

  “I understand,” Reuben said. His dat gave lots of money to the church as well. But Sadie was right to keep it to herself. It was proud to talk about such things.

  “I feel true charity for the poor,” Sadie whispered. “We all must do what we can.” She folded her arms and motioned toward Fern with her head. “Some girls can’t even buy new shoes. I’m glad my dat takes gute care of us.”

  Reuben kept his expression steady and eyed Fern’s shoes. They were black lace-up vinyl shoes, coming apart at the seams in one or two places, but they still seemed serviceable. Fern didn’t wear shoes most other days, unless it was chilly, but Reuben thought the bare feet were kind of cute. He didn’t especially like that Sadie looked down on Fern for her shoes, but he had to admit that Fern’s dat couldn’t afford to buy her new shoes. He was a pig farmer. He could barely afford to feed his family.

  “I hope I never have to scrape and struggle for money the way some people do,” Sadie said. “That’s why I am happy to know your dat gives so much to the poor like my fater does. If we don’t have our Christian charity, we are nothing.”

  Reuben was happy that he didn’t have to struggle for money, wasn’t he? So why did he feel so low when he peered at Fern? Did Sadie think she was better than Fern because of her money? Did he?

  Before he had time to take a gute look at his own shortcomings, Esther returned with two soapy dishrags and handed one, dripping wet, to Sadie.

  Sadie took the rag but jumped back from the dripping water, making sure her scuffless, expensive church shoes didn’t get wet. “Esther, don’t you know to wring them out first? I can’t wipe up with this.”

  “Go wring it out yourself if you’re so persnickety,” Esther said, making no attempt to save her own shoes or her dress. Drops of water and soap streaked the front of her white apron. “I’m going to wipe tables.”

  Sadie sighed another great sigh in Esther’s direction. “If you did things right the first time, I wouldn’t have to redo them.” Holding her rag straight out in front of her, she smiled at Reuben. “Good-bye,” she said, giving him a barely perceptible nod that said, “I’ll see you tomorrow, and my shoes are going to be just fine.”