Return to Huckleberry Hill

by Jennifer Beckstrand

  Dorothy Miller strolled into the warehouse clutching a notebook to her chest and smiling as if she’d just awakened from a nice dream. She practically twirled over to the tables where the food was being served and said hello to everyone, waving her fingers in greeting and getting plenty of grins in return. Her gaze swept over the eating tables, and when it lighted on Reuben, she seemed to burst. Glancing this way and that as if hoping no one noticed her, she rushed toward him. Was he going to need to defend himself with the broom?

  “Reuben Helmuth,” Dorothy said in a loud whisper when she came closer.

  “Guten Owed, Dorothy,” Reuben said, not even bothering to lower his voice. He didn’t see any reason for secrecy.

  She looked behind her and motioned for Reuben to edge closer to the wall. He followed, mostly because he didn’t think it would do much good to be contrary. “I never thought I’d say this in a million years, Reuben, but you are a genius.”

  Dorothy’s compliments always sounded suspiciously like insults. “Denki? ” he said.

  Dorothy beamed in triumph. “Melvin was waiting for me outside.”

  “Just now?”

  “When I got here. He wanted to show me Arizona. He found it parked on the street when he came for the fellowship supper.”

  “That’s wonderful gute. Is Arizona a hard one?”

  Dorothy grimaced. “It’s not about the plate, Reuben. Melvin talked to me. Voluntarily.”

  “He wanted to show you the license plate.”

  “That’s not all. We walked all the way down the street looking at the license plates parked along the side.”

  Reuben didn’t dare mention that cars were parked along the street, not license plates. Why risk Dorothy’s good mood? “So, he took you on a walk.”

  “And,” Dorothy said, pausing as if the next thing she had to say would change Reuben’s life. “We found Kentucky. Melvin told me to be sure to write it down.” She turned her notebook over so Reuben could see “Kentucky” and “Arizona” written across the top of the first page. “It’s more words than he’s said to me in ten years, Reuben, and I owe it all to you.”

  “Not me. Dawdi thought of the idea.”

  “But you thought to ask your dawdi. I don’t know how I’m going to thank you.”

  Reuben couldn’t help but grin. “Don’t thank me until there’s a wedding.”

  Dorothy hugged her notebook. “Two weeks ago, I wouldn’t have dared hope. Maybe your coming here wasn’t such a bad thing after all, even though your temper broke up the knitting group and you strut around like a rooster.”

  “Denki?” he said again, unable to keep that question mark out of his voice. Dorothy didn’t really like him, but she was trying to be gracious in her own untactful way. Probably.

  She pressed her lips together and eyed Reuben, nodding as if she had him all figured out. “And even though she came of her own choice, it’s been a trial for Fern.”

  How could any of this have been a trial for Fern? Reuben was the one who’d been hurt—and by Fern’s brother, no less. Fern’s coming had given her a break from slopping hogs and shoveling manure. She had a nice place to stay, a steady job, and a tub of peanut-butter-chocolate drops every week. The best part for her was that nobody in Bonduel knew how low on the social ladder she and her family were. In Sugarcreek, she was an underling. In Bonduel, she was just Fern King, likable, smart, and pretty.

  “I don’t think Fern would consider it a trial.”

  “Not that she’d show,” Dorothy said. “She’s too cheerful by half. It’s hard to see how bad she’s hurting on the inside.”

  How bad she’s hurting? She might feel bad about John and Linda Sue, but Dorothy didn’t know anything. Reuben had known Fern for almost her whole life. He knew her better than anyone else in Bonduel. “Fern is fine.”

  Dorothy flicked her wrist in his direction. “I’ll take gute care of her. It’s the least I can do for all you’ve done for me. And your mammi and dawdi are watching out for her too.” The lines bunched around her eyes. “But mark my words. You can only neglect the tree so long before it starts to wither.”

  “I’ll remember that,” Reuben said, pretending he knew what she was talking about. He’d rather not see her roll her eyes a third time.

  She rolled her eyes anyway. “See that you do something about it.” Dorothy tucked her notebook into the bag slung over her shoulder. “I want to make Melvin a cake in honor of Arizona. What do they eat in Arizona?”

  “I don’t know. Cactus maybe.”

  Dorothy squinted. “Hmm. Like prickly pear?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never seen a prickly pear before, except in books.”

  “I have a recipe for a fancy pear tart, but pears aren’t in season yet and I don’t think it will work with canned pears.”

  “He’d probably be happy with a nice snitz pie.”

  Dorothy eyed him as if he had tried to brush his teeth with the broom. Okay, maybe she didn’t think so highly of him, even if she’d just called him a genius. “A snitz pie? Reuben Helmuth, what does a snitz pie have to do with Arizona?”

  Reuben shrugged. “Nothing, but everybody loves snitz pie.”

  “I can’t risk everything on a snitz pie. I made a pineapple upside-down cake in honor of Hawaii. I’ve got to think of something to go with Arizona.”

  “Maybe you could make a blue cake in honor of Kentucky, the bluegrass state.”

  She thought about it for a second. “I hoped you’d have more to say for yourself, Reuben Helmuth. I’ll have to figure this out on my own.” She turned her back on him and headed to the food table. Fern greeted her with a delighted smile, and they stood shoulder to shoulder to serve rice.

  Reuben shook his head and grinned. He’d never get Dorothy’s full approval.

  But he wouldn’t lose sleep over it.

  Johnny Raber had moved from behind Fern to one of the tables stationed in full view of the serving table where he could watch Fern and eat his haystack at the same time. Fern needed to put a stop to this before Johnny’s heart was broken beyond repair.

  Sadie, Esther, and Serena Hoover strolled into the warehouse and let their eyes adjust to the dimness. Matthew Eicher, Aaron Glick, and three or four other boys followed close behind. Reuben pressed his lips together. As the bishop’s daughter, Sadie should have been helping with the haystack supper from the very beginning. And what about the rest of his new group of friends? Maybe the most respected folks in this community didn’t help with haystack suppers and such. Maybe they left the work to people who weren’t quite so important.

  He leaned his broom against the wall. He wanted to be one of the important people. Maybe he shouldn’t be sweeping.

  Reuben glanced at Fern across the wide space between them. She’d never looked prettier, serving rice, smiling with even the slightest of provocations, greeting people, and radiating the light of Gotte on her face. Of course he should be sweeping. Who was he to think he was more important than anybody else? Fern had scolded him for just such thoughts many times.

  “I was an hungered and ye gave me meat. Inasmuch as ye have done it unto the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.”

  Sadie and her friends moved in unison like a flock of sparrows. She saw Reuben and came straight at him. A small part of him was glad he wasn’t holding the broom, but another part of him felt an immediate twinge of guilt for being glad.

  Sadie had her elbows hooked between Esther and Serena. Esther stared at him with hooded eyes, as if she wasn’t sure if she should be friendly because he’d washed her dogs, or unfriendly because she didn’t want Sadie to know he’d washed her dogs. Sadie and Esther should probably have a long talk. Reuben wasn’t happy about being the secret each of them kept from each other.

  “Reuben, we’ve been looking everywhere for you,” Sadie said.

  He couldn’t help but stand a little taller. Sadie considered him part of her group. “For me?”

  “Jah,” Matthew said. “My d
at bought a new horse, and we’re going to go try her out.”

  “Did you bring your courting buggy?” Sadie said.

  “It’s not really mine. It belongs to my dawdi.”

  Aaron nodded. “Felty’s horse is fast. We want to race.”

  “There’s a gute place on this side of the lake we like to go,” Sadie said. “We do buggy races there all the time.”

  Reuben’s heart knocked against his chest. If he could win a buggy race, he’d be better liked than Matthew or Aaron. Sadie would likely fall in love with him on the spot. He smiled so wide, his ears probably slid upward. “Rhubarb is fast. And I just cleaned the buggy.”

  Sadie looked as if she might float off the ground with excitement. “Then let’s go.”

  Reuben gazed at the crowded tables. “Don’t we need to stay until supper’s over and help clean up?” And Fern. His heart sank. He’d told Fern he’d take her home.

  Matthew eyed him as if he were an ignorant child. “That’s the old folks’ job. Don’t you want to have some fun?”

  His heart sank even further. He shouldn’t have said anything about cleaning up. Sadie and her friends obviously felt no need to stay, and his mentioning it only made him look foolish. But what could he do? Fern was counting on him to take her home. He wouldn’t let her down a second time. “Of course I want to have some fun. But I’ll warn you, Dawdi’s horse used to run races. She never lost.”

  Matthew grinned. “We’ll just see about that.”

  “Come on, then,” Esther said. “All your talk is wasting daylight.”

  “Do you mind if I invite Fern? She’d love to see a buggy race.”

  Matthew nodded. “As long as she cheers for me.”

  Reuben didn’t miss the look Sadie gave Serena, and his heart scraped the pavement as he realized what it meant. Sadie didn’t want Fern to come.

  But how could that be? Fern had been the one to invite Sadie to the knitting group. Fern was pretty and smart and unfailingly kind to everyone. What didn’t they like about her?

  “We might not have enough room for Fern,” Serena said.

  “She can ride over there with me,” Reuben said.

  Sadie smiled and batted her long eyelashes. “I sort of wanted to ride with you.”

  “We can make room,” Aaron said. At least the boys seemed willing to include Fern.

  The excitement of a race couldn’t keep Reuben from sinking and sinking until he could have seen eye to eye with the ants crawling along the warehouse floor. Sadie didn’t want him to bring Fern, that much was obvious, but Fern was his friend and things seemed to always go better when Fern was around. Besides, she’d wind up accidentally engaged to Johnny Raber if Reuben didn’t take her home. He fastened on his most charming smile for Sadie. “Fern can ride with Matthew. That leaves me with room for one more.”

  She didn’t react the way he thought she would. She nibbled on her bottom lip and pressed her frown deeper into her face. But whatever her problem with Fern, she didn’t say anything, so Reuben figured he had her reluctant agreement.

  “I’ll go get Fern and meet you outside,” he said. “Don’t leave without me.”

  “For sure and certain,” Matthew said. “I want a gute race. Aaron’s horse is as slow as cold tar.”

  Matthew and the other boys slipped out the door at the back of the warehouse while Sadie stood immovable and waved her friends away. “I’ll catch up.”

  Esther puckered her face into that sour look Reuben had seen many times. “You always think you’re so important, Sadie.”

  Sadie returned Esther’s look with a nasty one of her own. “Just go. Reuben and I will be right out.” With her palm down, she wiggled her fingers to shoo them away.

  Esther’s look turned from sour to deadly, but she and Serena obeyed. Sadie watched silently as her friends marched across the warehouse and disappeared out the back door. After they were gone, Sadie grabbed Reuben’s broom from its perch against the wall and started sweeping. Sort of.

  “Reuben. We need to have a talk.” She swiped the broom along the floor in small, halfhearted strokes as if looking busy would make their conversation seem less suspicious. Less suspicious to whom, he couldn’t guess.

  “Could we talk on the buggy ride over to the lake? I don’t know how long they’ll wait for us.”

  “They’ll wait, and what I have to say is wonderful important.” She paused and pinned him with a serious gaze. “You have a kind heart, Reuben. It’s one of the things I like best about you, and I wouldn’t want you any other way, but don’t you think you’ve stretched your kindness far enough?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You have done more than your duty with Fern. You’ve been nice to her and have let her tag along when you go places. You drive her everywhere, and Lorene says you buy her treats at the Yutzys’ candy shop every week. You’ve done her a gute service, and no one can expect any more from you, especially since her bruder stole your girlfriend.”

  Reuben tensed like a rubber band around a shoe box. “That’s not Fern’s fault. She’s trying to convince me to forgive him.”

  “Ach, believe me, I know the whole story. Lorene has a pen pal in Sugarcreek who says the bishop is none too happy about his daughter marrying the son of a pig farmer.” Sadie stopped sweeping altogether as her gaze darted about the warehouse. She lowered her voice. “Lorene’s pen pal says that Fern and her family aren’t worthy of you, Reuben. She says your family is the richest in the district.” Sadie leaned closer to whisper. “It wonders me why you were ever friends with Fern’s bruder.”

  Because John was the best of friends.

  The tension pulled even tighter. Fern and her family were what the Amish called underlings. Of course, such a word was uttered in hushed tones because no one wanted to admit that they treated some of their neighbors with less than Christian charity, and no one wanted to be accused of pride, though pride was at the heart of it. Underling families were never completely accepted by the rest of the community. Their opinions didn’t count for much in the church—no matter how upstanding they were—and their children had a difficult time finding someone to marry.

  Every muscle in his jaw clenched. Would Sadie reject him because of Fern? It wasn’t a very nice thought to have, but he might as well face the truth. He hadn’t wanted Fern here in the first place, and if she was holding him back, he should tell her to go home.

  The catch in his breath pulled his thoughts up short. If it hadn’t been for Fern, he’d be sitting in Dawdi’s barn right now wallowing in his pity. If it hadn’t been for Fern, he wouldn’t have found his smile. If it hadn’t been for Fern, he never would have met Sadie, never would have gotten the chance to start rebuilding his reputation.

  But did his relationship with Fern put all that at risk?

  Something sharp and ragged stabbed at his heart, and he hadn’t the courage to look to see what it was.

  He cleared his throat. “Fern is . . . Fern is my friend.”

  “I won’t deny that Fern is a nice, pleasant girl, but don’t you see?” She took the drastic measure of giving his arm a little tug to move them both farther from the people sitting at the nearest table. “If you want to make a gute impression on people here in Bonduel, you don’t want them to think that you and Fern are close. She is more Johnny Raber’s kind of people. Let her stay with her own kind.”

  Reuben’s thoughts felt like they’d been picked up by the wind and scattered around the countryside. John and his other friends in Sugarcreek had always tried to keep Fern from tagging after them. Even when he had been ten and eleven years old, Reuben hadn’t felt good about abandoning her—she had been just a little kid, after all. He’d always watched out for Fern, and it hadn’t seemed to hurt his standing in the community, even though the Kings were underlings.

  But now, things were different. He’d been humiliated in Sugarcreek, and he stood on shaky ground in Bonduel. Some sacrifices would have to be made. Again, that guilt attacked him as if it wer
e eating him from the inside out. He held his breath until the feeling subsided. “Okay.”

  “Okay?” Sadie said doubtfully.

  “I just need to go tell her I’m leaving.”

  Sadie pressed her full, rose-petal lips together. “Why?”

  “I promised her a ride home.”

  Sadie had gotten her way. She burst into a smile. “I’ll meet you outside.”

  Reuben took the broom from Sadie and dragged it with him to the serving table. Fern’s smile made him feel so low, he could have licked the dirt off the warehouse floor.

  “You’re doing a gute job with the sweeping,” she said. “The floor is staying nice and clean.”

  Dorothy dumped a spoonful of rice onto an Englischer ’s plate with a flick of her wrist. “Stuff and nonsense. My two-year-old nephew could sweep better than that. Reuben’s just pushing the dirt around.”

  Reuben tapped his knuckle on the table as if he’d made an appointment. “Uh, Fern?”

  Fern raised her eyebrows. “Jah?”

  When it came right down to it, he couldn’t look her in the eye. “I’m going out with Sadie and some of the others for awhile, but I’ll be back to take you home.”

  He glanced up to see that she’d plastered her smile into place. “Ach. Okay. Have fun.”

  Dorothy gave Reuben a look that could have made a cow dry up. With her sticky spoon still in her hand, she wrapped an arm tightly around Fern’s shoulder. The rice stuck to the spoon like glue. “He won’t have near as much fun as we will. Vernon Raber has three big sinks and a wall-mounted sprayer in back. We’re going to be washing dishes the fancy way.”

  Fern seemed to be trying to muster enthusiasm for the wall-mounted sprayer. “Jah. I’m excited to try it out. I’ve washed dishes with a hose before but never a sprayer.”