by Beth Wiseman
“Seeing that they’re just baby sprouts, awhile,” she answered. “But it will be worth it, ja?”
Eli left with a wave. There was a quickness to his step as he hurried down the road in the direction of the bachelor’s cabin. The whole family stood on the porch, watching him go, until he crested a hill and disappeared from view.
“So he’s coming back tomorrow then?” Uncle Melvin asked.
“Ja, to measure for the deer fencing, which I do have to admit I’m excited about.” Sadie smiled, crossing her arms over her chest and feeling them tremble. She followed the family into the house and then moved to her room, placing a hand on her cheek and finally allowing a full smile to emerge—the smile that Eli’s nearness caused but one she’d held back.
Somehow Eli Plank had wormed his way into all their hearts in a very short time. Her brow furrowed slightly as she remembered another man—that Englischman from Pioneer Creek Seeds—who also had an easy demeanor and a way with words, but she pushed those thoughts out of her mind. This was not the same situation. Eli was just trying to settle within the community, that’s all.
She just hoped Eli didn’t make a habit of getting close to people and then walking out of their lives for good, because after tonight that would bring heartache to them all . . . especially her.
THE BUDGET—West Kootenai, Montana
My young friends and I have been trailing that bear cub over these Montana hills. We’ve yet to see his mother, and after talking to locals, either it’s a yearling that was shooed away by his mother too soon or he lost her to some tragedy. If you can imagine a child having free rein of a candy store without a mother to supervise, that is what this cub is like. He’s tossed around some trash cans and trailed after kids on bikes, much to the chagrin of locals. Personally, my favorite part of the day is riding my own bicycle to and from work, hoping to spot Goliath—a name the local children gave the cub after the Bible’s favorite bad guy.
Without another bear around to play with, the little whirlwind of energy likes to climb trees, tackle brush, or dig up roots, which makes my work of skip-peeling seem mundane in comparison. If you’re not aware of skip-peeling, a drawknife is used to hand peel a log, leaving some of the cambium layer on the log’s surface. This is different than a clean-peel where it’s peeled, well, clean.
With Memorial Day weekend coming, many of the locals are preparing their gardens. They have their seed packets ready. All except Sadie Chupp. This industrious gardener borrowed her neighbor’s greenhouse to get an early start on her plants. From Indiana, Sadie’s garden experience is in her blood. Just as her heirloom tomato seeds are passed down for generations, obviously the know-how to care for these plants has been passed on, too, because while most of her neighbors are still plotting their gardens, Sadie has planted her first tomato plants into the rich Montana soil. It makes me think of God’s Word that tells us not to grow weary of doing good, for at the right time, we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.
—Eli Plank, the bachelor scribe
CHAPTER SIX
With Eli’s help, it only took a few weeks to get Sadie’s beautiful garden in. They started by prepping the soil and building a deer fence around it. The garden ended up being bigger than Sadie had planned, but when Uncle Melvin asked for beets and Aunt Linda for peas, they had to add in the cucumbers, cabbage, and squash that the kids also asked for.
The cool breeze of the morning stirred Sadie’s kapp strings. She opened the makeshift gate and noticed that small sprouts had popped up seemingly overnight. Sadie sighed, because so did the weeds. Back in Indiana, most women did their garden work first thing in the morning. Of course, back in Indiana most gardens were near the roads, and no Amish woman wanted a neighbor to drive by in a buggy and see a garden full of weeds.
Here, her garden was behind the house. It was surrounded by a deer fence and not visible to any of their neighbors. Then again, her guess was that even if neighbors saw a garden with a splattering of weeds, they’d give it no mind.
Still, Sadie couldn’t leave the weeds unattended for long. She moved to her uncle’s shed and found her garden gloves and also grabbed a piece of cardboard that she could use to kneel on. She opened the gate and entered, thankful for the sun shining on her face and kapp. Still, she could think of many other things she could be doing on this beautiful Saturday morning than weeding, like joining the rest of the family for a walk down to Lake Koocanusa.
She placed the cardboard on the ground and settled down. “It figures that he was happy to help me plant, but not so keen on weeding.”
“Was that me you were talking about?”
Sadie turned and there stood Eli with a Styrofoam coffee cup from the Kraft and Grocery. In his other hand he held a garden hoe. He loudly swallowed the last of the coffee and then walked over and tossed the cup in the trash can. His hat was pulled low over his brow, but even then she could see the twinkle in his eyes at catching her complaining.
“Vell, the truth is, I didn’t mean for you to overhear my grumbling.”
“Of course not.” Eli chuckled. He unlatched the gate and entered, closing it behind him. Having him closed up in the garden with her felt both intimate and dangerous.
“What are you going to do with that hoe?” she asked.
He took a step closer. “I’m going to get these weeds, of course.”
She rose to her knees. “It’s a little invasive, don’t you think?”
“They’re weeds, Sadie. Just weeds.” He moved down the row toward the new sprouts of carrots and with quick movements began jabbing at the weeds.
Seeing that caused her stomach to knot up. “You know, I don’t really mind just weeding them by hand.”
Eli paused and looked at her. “But why? That takes so much more time. If we just get this done quickly, then we can do something else, something more fun with our day.”
“But . . . Eli, why aren’t you listening to me?” Sadie sat back on her heels and glared at him. She held back from standing, striding over to him, and taking the hoe out of his hands.
“Listen, Eli.” She struggled to keep her voice strong. “I know your way might be faster, and from all the help you gave me during the planting and such, you no doubt have a lot of experience, but this is the way my mem did it—pulling weeds by hand. Our time in the garden was a peaceful time. It was one of the few times I had her alone. It was a good time to connect. In the kitchen, things were always busy as she cooked for our large family, but she seemed to relax in the garden. It just seems, well, it just seems that’s how it should be.”
He paused and turned to look at her. “I–I’m sorry, Sadie. I had no idea.”
She nodded and returned to sitting sideways on the cardboard, tucking her skirt and apron under her legs. Sadie was an adult, but whenever she was in the garden, she felt ten again, watching her mother and working so hard to make sure she was doing everything right.
She closed her eyes for a moment and reached down and grabbed a handful of soil, feeling its warmth in her fingers.
Sadie heard the movement of Eli coming toward her. He hunkered down near her. Close enough to offer support, but far enough away to still be appropriate.
“I’ve been wanting to ask about your parents, Sadie, but I’ve been afraid to. I didn’t want to make you sad.”
“Thanks . . . for wanting to ask. I know it’s hard for people to know what to say.”
“I want to say the right thing—do the right thing.”
Sadie wrinkled her nose and looked up at him. “Well, today, the right thing is to pull the weeds with your hands and not chop them with that hoe.”
“Ja, ja, okay.” He cleared his throat and then moved over to the fencing, leaning the hoe against the meshed wire. Then, with a tenderness she’d yet to see from him, Eli kneeled in the warm, soft dirt and began pulling weeds.
She sat there for a minute, trying to imagine another person being so understanding, so patient with her. Her older siblings would have demande
d that she grow up. Even Aenti Linda would have made a comment that there wasn’t just one right way to do things. Seeing Eli pull those weeds, and that he knew which ones to pull, made her tear up. What did she do to deserve a friend like this? She’d lashed out at him and demanded of him, yet Eli had continued to turn the other cheek.
She closed her eyes and blew out a deep breath.
“Lord, I know my loss does not give me a free pass to strike out at others. To demand my way.” The prayer was barely a whisper upon her lips. “Heal me, Lord, so I can plant goodness into the lives of others. So I can be a blessing and not a stray weed . . .”
Eli paused his movements and looked back at her. “What was that?”
Sadie glanced up. “Oh, nothing.” Something tickled her cheek. She brushed it away. “Or, what I should say is that I didn’t mean to disturb your work. I was just sending up a prayer, that’s all. Asking God to change me . . . to remind me not to be so demanding. I’m sorry if I’ve come across harsh, Eli.”
He turned on one knee and looked at her. “You’re anything but harsh, Sadie. You’re passionate about some things, and I like that. I appreciate the way you stood up for Rachel the first time we met, and I actually like that you see this time in the garden as a time of connecting instead of a rush to get things done. I can learn a lot from you.”
Sadie sighed loudly and placed her balled fists on her hips. “Would you just stop that?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, can’t you get upset a little? Do you always have to be nice?”
Eli cocked an eyebrow. “Are you saying you want me to get upset?”
“I’m saying that in real life people get upset. You could defend yourself, Eli. You could raise your voice just a little bit. Otherwise how am I going to know . . .”
“Know what?”
“Know that you’re real and not just a figment of my imagination. My mem used to tell me if something seems too good to be true, it probably is. So you . . .” She squinted. “Maybe I have really lost my mind in grief and you’re just my imaginary friend.”
Eli frowned. Then he picked up a dirt clod and threw it squarely at Sadie. It hit with a thump in the center of her chest and burst into a thousand pieces, splattering dirt all over her clean white apron.
Sadie’s mouth opened in surprise and shock.
Eli crossed his arms over his chest and jutted out his chin. “Is that real enough for you?”
“Ja.” She picked up a dirt clod, sailing it in his direction. It hit his neck, and Eli jumped to his feet in surprise.
“Why, you throw like a boy!” he proclaimed.
She picked up another dirt clod and fingered it. “I’ll take that as a compliment. And you weed like a girl. It seems that we make an unlikely team.”
“That may be so, but don’t get carried away with pelting me. Why don’t we finish up weeding and then head out? As fun as this is, there is a lot more of the area to explore.”
Sadie nodded and then dropped the clod to the ground. “Sounds like a deal. Besides, if my aenti returned home and saw me covered in dirt, she’d begin to wonder about you. And so far they like you. We wouldn’t want to change that, would we?” She winked.
It only took an hour for them to finish up the weeding, and then Sadie put the garden gloves and cardboard back in the shed.
“Now that the work is done, do you have time to play?” Eli asked.
“Ja. What do you have in mind?” A chipmunk chattered in the tree overhead as if commending Sadie for stopping her work to have some fun, but she gave it no mind.
“Vell, I happen to know two box lunches are waiting for us at the Kraft and Grocery, and then I thought we’d hike over to Alkali Lake.”
“Where’s that?”
“Oh, there was a note about it posted in my cabin. It’s by the shooting range. I’ve heard the local wildlife really like the water and you can see moose, elk, and even bears gathering there in the afternoons.”
“Do you think it’ll be safe?”
“We’ll make sure to stay far enough away so we can see them, but they won’t bother us.”
She placed a hand over her heart, noticing its beating had quickened. “Ja, I think it’s something I’d like to do, especially since you’ll be there to fight off any wild animals.” She glanced over at Eli.
“There’s only one thing, though,” she said. “If you’re going to write about our adventure for The Budget—which I have no doubt you’ll do—can you not mention that I’m the only one with you?”
“Is there a problem, Sadie? Afraid of becoming popular?”
“Vell, I do have brothers and sisters back home, and I’ve already gotten letters from them asking about you, wondering if I’m going to be the one who—well, never mind.”
“No, you have to tell me.”
Sadie ran a hand down her throat. “Ne, really. Forget I said anything.” She placed a hand over her stomach. “And we better hurry.” She strode out toward the road. “That lunch sounds wonderful.”
She heard Eli’s footfall behind her and hoped he didn’t question her again. After reading his last post for The Budget she’d indeed gotten a slew of letters, six to be exact. And all of them asked the same questions. Are you dating Eli? Will you be the one to remove his “bachelor” status? She didn’t respond. Why should she? It was foolishness really. Her name was mentioned one time in the report of an Amish scribe and suddenly her family was picturing themselves at her wedding.
They’d only gotten one hundred yards from her aunt and uncle’s place when they saw movement across the road ahead of them. It was a ball of brown fur about the size of a large dog, yet it bounced like a puppy when it ran. It zipped from one side of the road to the other and then hurried up a small slope, disappearing into the trees.
Sadie froze. “Did you see that?”
“Ja, it was the bear cub.”
Sadie laughed. “It’s so cute, smaller than I thought. The way the kids talk about ‘Goliath,’ I imagined it being the size of a sheepdog, not a golden retriever.”
“Do you want to follow him, Sadie?”
“Follow him? No. Isn’t that dangerous?”
“I don’t think it will be. C’mon.”
Her feet stayed firmly planted. “But what about the lunch? The picnic?”
“We’ll get the lunch in a few minutes, but why go look for wildlife when we have it right here?”
“Okay, ja.” Sadie took a deep breath as she followed Eli up the sloping hill. “Do you have any idea where we’re going?” she called after him. He paused and waited for her.
“No idea. I haven’t headed out this way before.” Eli’s smile was as large as the Montana sky, and Sadie knew why. This was going to be something all right—something special for the Amish bachelor’s next Budget report. She pressed a hand to her forehead. She could expect even more letters this time.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Eli straightened his shoulders as he led the way, first up the slope and then into the trees. Over the last few weeks he’d spent more time with Sadie, wishing he’d see the same spark of life flashing in her eyes that he’d seen the day they first met. But he was thankful to have Sadie’s friendship.
In the garden, Sadie’s voice had quivered when she’d asked him to put down the hoe. Emotion had filled her voice, and he was thankful to hear it.
Eli had mentioned Sadie to his grandfather on the telephone just a few nights ago. He didn’t enjoy standing in the cold phone shed, and he wasn’t going to make a habit of calling home, but he had a few gardening questions that couldn’t wait.
“I don’t understand. It’s like she’s just doing what she thinks she ought to be doing. I’ve seen her fired up a few times. I’ve seen a spark of anger—of humor—in her eyes. But the grief she’s enduring from her parents’ death is still a dark curtain, holding her back. Maybe she’s afraid to care too deeply again—to open herself up to the people around her.”
“Sometimes that happ
ens.” His grandfather sighed.
“But what do I do about it?”
“What can you do except be her friend? And pray for her?”
“But isn’t there something I can say?”
“Eli, you’ve worked in a garden your whole life. You should know that things take time. A planted seed begins the process of growth once you place it in the soil and water it, but this growth can’t be seen immediately.”
Eli remembered his grandfather’s words as he heard the heaviness of Sadie’s breath. She strode along behind him, trying to keep up.
He glanced back over his shoulder. “Am I going too fast?” Eli slowed down.
She shook her head and moved past him, taking the lead. “Ne, look! There he is!”
Just ahead of them, the bear was scurrying up a pine tree. It was a bit wider than the lodgepole pine, and when the bear reached the lower branches, he settled onto one.
They gazed up at him, but the bear’s focus was on something in the distance. He was about the size of her cousin Rachel with dark-brown fur and claws that clung to the tree.
“That must be his safe place.” Sadie’s eyes were bright, her cheeks flush.
They dared to step a little closer, and as they did, a stench grew.
“What is that?” Sadie coughed and waved a hand in front of her face.
Eli gagged. “I wonder if he dragged bags of garbage back there. It smells horrible—like something died.”
Sadie pinched her nose. “It smells like dead fish.”
Eli took a few more steps until he was able to look over a clump of brush and get a good look at the base of the tree. He noticed fish bones and various scraps.
“Looks as if our guy here hasn’t been cleaning his plate.”
“But why does he bring the fish here?” Sadie scrunched up her face.
“It must be a habit—maybe instinct or something his mother taught him.” Chills traveled up his arms. “But cubs usually only act this way when they feel threatened that their lunch is going to be taken away. When they know there is a bigger bear around.”
