by Beth Wiseman
After Eli had disappeared down the road, they shared small talk about the trip and about family members back home. It wasn’t until after dinner, and when everyone else had gone to bed, that Sadie had the nerve to confront her sister. They sat side by side in two rocking chairs on the front porch. Even though it was nearly ten o’clock, the sun hadn’t fully set yet. That was something about Montana—and living so far north—that she was still getting used to.
“That wasn’t kind, the way you treated Eli today.” Sadie tried to keep her voice calm. “He’s a good man. He’s been a huge help with the garden.” The creak of the rocking chair punctuated Sadie’s words.
“One must desire more than good gardening skills in a husband, Sadie. You must think more of your life to come than your emotions of the moment. It would have helped Mem and Dat . . . ”
“Helped Mem and Dat how?” Sadie’s brow furrowed. “I don’t understand.”
“Dat was a good man, but he wasn’t very good with money. Their debt was high—he owed on accounts all around town. We didn’t find out, of course, until after their deaths.”
Sadie gasped. “High debt. Is that why—”
“Why we sold the house? Ja, of course. It broke my heart to sell it.”
“But you didn’t tell me.”
Carol glanced over, her eyes full of compassion. “You were going through so much already. We didn’t want to burden you. We didn’t want you to think less of them . . .”
Sadie focused on her sister’s face. It had been hard for Carol to confess the truth. Sadie could see it all over her face. Carol—her other siblings—had been trying to protect her. She thought of Eli. Carol was no doubt trying to protect her still.
Carol touched her kapp. “But that’s in the past. It does my heart good to see that you’re all right. And tomorrow I’m eager to see the garden. To see Mem’s tomatoes. I’d love some of the seeds to take back home. I’m only staying a few days. It’s a quick trip.”
“Ja, I’d be happy to give you some seeds once the fruit comes in. Once I dry them.”
Carol stopped her rocking, looking startled. “I–I don’t understand. Are you saying that you planted all the seeds?”
“Ja . . .” A boulder formed in the pit of Sadie’s stomach.
“Did Mem ever tell you to leave some aside, in case it isn’t a gut crop?”
Sadie didn’t answer. Instead she just folded her fingers and looked to her lap.
Carol was quiet. The only sound was crickets chirping in the field beside the house. “Ja, well. I’m sure everything will be fine,” Carol said finally. “You said it was a beautiful crop coming in, right? There shouldn’t be any problems. No problems at all.”
CHAPTER NINE
By the time Carol left, Sadie was sad to see her go. During the evenings, after everyone else went to bed, they sat on the porch, talking about their lives in a way they never had before. And for the first time, Sadie felt like an adult in her sister’s eyes. The only thing they didn’t talk about again was Eli. Sadie was afraid to bring the subject up. It was easier to talk about everything else. It was easier to talk about tomatoes. Sadie was thankful that the tomatoes were coming in well. So well, she could almost taste them.
While most of the other plants were still in the early stages of growth, Sadie’s tomatoes were large, round, and a few had already ripened. This morning she headed outside with a small bowl, preparing to pick the first tomatoes of the year. She’d waited for this day for so long.
She’d invited Eli to come down for lunch, and she couldn’t wait to see the surprised look on his face when she placed a fresh salad before him, with her tomatoes gracing the top. She had to thank him too. He’d spent his whole Saturday looking for pinwheels, and he’d even hired a driver to take him to Kalispell, but his efforts had paid off. Eli had presented her with a large bouquet of pinwheels that they’d placed throughout the garden.
The bright, spinning, colorful wheels had done a fine job of keeping the critters away. Every day Sadie had grown accustomed to thanking God for bringing Eli into her life, and not just because of all the help he’d offered in her garden. Yet she still had many questions. Would he be a good husband? Could they have a good future together?
Sadie’s footsteps stopped short when she saw her uncle standing at the fencing, peering intently into the garden.
“Oh, don’t you think of it, Uncle Melvin. Those tomatoes are called for. You hear? I promise to make you something good—something yummy—from the next batch.”
“Sadie, have you taken a look at your garden lately? Something’s not looking right.”
“Are you talking about the carrot tops? They got nibbled down a few weeks ago, but ever since Eli got the pinwheels, there hasn’t been a problem.”
“Ne, I’m not talking about the carrot tops. I’m talking about the tomatoes.” Her uncle’s voice was tinged with panic. “At first I thought it was just mud on your tomatoes, but look at those dark spots. I think I’ve seen that before—heard neighbors talk about it. It looks like your first batch of tomatoes has blossom-end rot to me.”
Sadie’s heart skipped. “What?” She’d heard of that. It could ruin produce quicker than anything else. She hadn’t been in the garden in a day or two, but surely things couldn’t have gone wrong in that short of time—could they? She opened the makeshift gate and hurried inside.
Sadie sank onto her knees in front of the tomato plants, not caring if her dress got dirty. She placed the empty bowl on the ground and gently lifted a tomato stem. Sure enough, on each of her three best tomatoes was a black spot on the blossom end—opposite the stem.
“I’ve heard it happens sometimes to the first fruit of the season.”
“What is it exactly?” Tears sprang to her eyes. “Is it a pest? Disease?” She looked to Melvin, horrified. “Is it going to ruin all the plants?” A pain started in the pit of her stomach. When she was planting her seeds, she considered setting a few to the side, just in case something like this happened, but her mother’s words had come back to her. “Nothing ventured, nothing gained, Sadie. One cannot be too stingy when it comes to gardening. If you expect a big harvest, you have to give a big investment.” The only problem was that she’d given it all—and now she might lose it all.
“If you want, I can stop by the store and talk to Edgar at lunch,” her uncle offered. “He’s been in this area his whole life. And—”
Sadie rose and moved to the gate. Her knees grew soft and her heart ached. She could not lose these tomato plants.
With fumbling fingers, she closed the gate, locking it tight. “I’ll be . . . back.” They were the only words she could get out.
“You okay?”
“Ja, just going to see Eli. I need him to ask his grandfather about this. He seems to know about these things.”
It only took fifteen minutes for Sadie to walk to Montana Log Works, half the time it usually took. On the way, Susan Carash, their neighbor, had slowed down her truck, asking if Sadie needed a ride. As much as Sadie wanted to get to the factory as quickly as possible, she didn’t want to explain her garden, her fears, or why she was crying, so she declined.
Sadie heard the sounds of machines and the voices of men as she entered the Log Works. It smelled of wood and glue. The lighting was dimmer than the bright sunshine outside, and it took a minute for her eyes to adjust.
There. Halfway across the building, Eli was using a sharp knife to peel the bark off a lodgepole pine log. She didn’t dare rush up to him with that big knife in his hand, so she waited. It took less than thirty seconds for someone—his boss, she supposed—to alert Eli of her presence. The man talked to Eli and then pointed to the door. Eli’s smile fell when he saw her.
Eli placed the knife on a shelf and took off his leather apron, then hurried over. His hair was stuck to his brow with sweat and concern filled his eyes. “Sadie, is everything all right?”
“Something is wrong. We did something wrong, Eli.” Her voice was sharper than
she meant it to be. “The tomatoes—” Sadie’s voice caught. “Well, the first tomatoes have something horribly wrong with them. There are big black spots of decay on the end not connected to the vine. Uncle Melvin says it looks like blossom-end rot.”
Eli’s eyes widened. “Don’t worry, Sadie. I’ll call my opa tonight. I’ll come and see them later, and then I’ll call—”
“No!” The word shot from her lips. “Can’t you do it sooner?” She looked to the office that was connected to the workshop. “Can you ask to use the phone? Tell them it’s an emergency. I can pay whatever it costs for the call.”
“An emergency?” Eli scratched his head, making the back of his hair stick up like a rooster’s comb, but even the sight of that didn’t make her smile. “Do you really think—” he started and then paused. Then, with a tender look in his eyes, Eli reached a hand toward her arm. “Ja, hold on one moment.”
Sadie nodded and moved back to the open doorway, standing so that part of her was in the sunshine and part of her was in the shade. After members of her family successfully passed down the seeds for generations, she’d be the one to ruin it all. And she’d gone out today with hopes of a harvest. There hadn’t been even one healthy tomato.
A few minutes later, Eli met her at the door and then motioned for her to follow him outside. “I talked to my opa, and I have good news. From how you described it, it does sound like blossom-end rot, but it’s not a disease or parasite. The problem is a low level of calcium in the fruit. When the fruit grows faster than the amount of calcium that can be absorbed from the soil, the tomato starts to decay.”
“What does that mean? How can we fix it?”
“First, my opa says that you have to stop watering it so much. He said try to feed the area with manure or compost too. He also says you can add in some crushed eggshells, but all these tricks usually help more during the planting. He says it could help now some, but there isn’t a guarantee.”
“So basically, I’m killing my precious plants because I’m watering too much?” Sadie lowered her head.
“That, and the problems with the soil—it’s a deadly mix. Oh, and because it’s a colder part of the country, the roots take longer to go deep, so that makes it harder for the plants to get calcium too.”
“So what do I do?” she asked again.
“Water less, add eggshells and manure, and pick off the affected fruit. He says that just because those tomatoes were damaged doesn’t mean any other fruit will be.”
Sadie breathed out a heavy sigh. “That’s gut news.”
“Oh, and there’s one last thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Opa said the best thing you can do is pray. He says the One who created gardens cares about yours.”
Sadie smiled. “I like that, and the next time you talk to him, can you tell him danke?”
“Ja.” Eli nodded and then took her hand. “And in just a little while you’ll be able to thank him yourself. He should be here before we know it. You’re going to love him, Sadie—and he’s going to love you.”
THE BUDGET—West Kootenai, Montana
Many of you have written to ask about Goliath—the yearling bear cub that was stirring up trouble around these parts. It turns out that the trouble got the attention of local Fish and Wildlife officials. They showed up asking questions about the young bear. Many of the locals agreed that he was a pest and asked for the bear to be moved.
The officials agreed that something needed to be done—especially with young children around, but they said that moving a bear was expensive, and most of the animals that are moved return in short order. They said that putting the animal down was probably the best option, much to the uproar of the community.
Our guess is that Goliath heard murmurs of his fate and decided to head to the hills. (My personal belief is that the snow is melting, and he now has fresh berries and other things to dine on without the bothersome people in his way.) No matter the reason, no one has seen the bear cub in many weeks, and we’re hoping it stays that way.
On a better note, the gardens in the area are turning out nicely. Ruth Sommers planted enough zucchini to bake bread for all of northwest Montana—or so she claims. Personally, I’m looking forward to summer days passing so I can get a slice of that myself. Other gardens are progressing nicely, and many of the gardeners have admitted to me that they’ve ordered from Pioneer Creek Seeds. I couldn’t be prouder of that, and I’m sure my father and grandfather are too.
Sadie Chupp’s heirloom seeds went through a little bump in the road when she discovered they had blossom-end rot. Her overzealous watering was one cause, but from what I’ve heard, the other tomatoes are coming in fine. I’m looking forward to a tomato sandwich in the near future.
Also, I’ve moved from skip-peeling logs to assembling furniture. My boss called it a promotion. My back agrees.
We’re going to have an Amish auction here soon, and everyone has rolled up their sleeves to get things ready. Quilts have been arriving daily at our store/post office, and I’ve had a sneak peek at some of them. It seems that many Amish communities around the country have represented themselves. In addition to funds going back to the women for their hard work, our local Amish school will benefit, and children like Isaiah, Noah, and Rachel Chupp thank you.
Oh yes, and you might have noticed my use of “our” in the previous paragraph. “Our store, our school.” I’ve traveled many places, but until I arrived in West Kootenai, I’d always considered Indiana to be home. After living here awhile, I can say that this place is growing on me.
Sending OUR best wishes from the mountains.
—Eli Plank, the bachelor scribe
CHAPTER TEN
It took two weeks of watering less, incorporating eggshells and manure into the soil, and praying—lots of praying—but Sadie’s heart leapt with joy when she walked out to the garden one morning and noticed the new tomatoes had begun to ripen and were blemish-free.
Sadie let out a long breath. A weight lifted from her shoulders. Thankfully she wasn’t going to be the one who ended the heritage. Instead, she hoped that this would just be part of a humorous story she told to her children and grandchildren someday. She just needed these tomatoes to ripen for a few more days, and then she could harvest their seeds. Then—and only then—would she really be able to breathe a sigh of relief and laugh at herself.
“I can’t believe I ran up to Montana Log Works to tell Eli about my ‘crisis,’” Sadie mumbled to herself. She shook her head, wondering what Eli’s coworkers must have thought of her. Great Tomato Catastrophe, indeed.
She walked to her uncle’s shed to grab her garden gloves, and once inside, she heard what sounded like someone moving around outside. The door behind her creaked open.
Sadie turned. Even though it was early, she expected it to be Eli. He usually visited her after work, but sometimes he surprised her in the early morning too.
Instead, it was Rachel who trembled in the cool morning air, still wearing her nightdress and head scarf.
Sadie quickly took off her sweater and hurried over to the young girl. “Oh, liebling, come in. It’s chilly out there.”
“I had a dream, Sadie.”
Sadie wrapped the sweater around Rachel’s shoulders. The girl’s forehead creased with concern.
“Was it a bad dream?”
“Ja.” Rachel lowered her head. “It was Mem and Dat. They were in an accident.”
“Was it a buggy accident, Rachel, like my mem and dat?”
“Ja.”
“Just because something tragic like that happened once doesn’t mean it’ll happen again.”
“But what if it did happen? Would you stay here with me?”
“Ja, of course. I would never leave you alone.”
“But what if you were married with your own kids?” Rachel’s lower lip trembled. “Mem says that Eli loves you—that she can see it in his eyes.”
Sadie took Rachel’s shoulders and knelt befor
e her. Fear filled her face. She was concerned about the nightmare, but it was her aunt’s belief that Eli loved her that caused the most shock.
“Your mem said that . . . that he loved me?”
“Ja, I heard her and Dat talking. They said they’d be very sad if you married and returned to Indiana. And if you do, who will be here to take care of me?”
“Oh, liebling, you don’t have to worry about that. I don’t think that anything will happen to your parents. Also, I have no plans of going anywhere. Do you understand? And as far as I know, Eli plans to stay here too.”
“Do you mean that?”
Sadie nodded, but was she jumping to conclusions? Eli claimed to like it here. He’d said more than once that Montana was starting to feel like home. But what did that mean for him? What did that mean for them?
“Just go to bed and rest your little heart. Pray to God, and remember that He can sweep all your worries away like the swish of a broom.”
Sadie didn’t know where those words came from, but as she waved Rachel back toward the house and pulled on her garden gloves, she realized she needed those words too. She could either question if Eli did indeed care for her as much as she cared for him, or she could trust that God knew Eli’s heart and had a plan for both of them. He also had a perfect home in mind for her, whether here or another place.
That was one thing she was learning from Eli. To ask for help and then accept it, not only from those around her, but also from God.
Still, she wondered. Are Aunt Linda’s observations correct? Is there truly love in his eyes when he looks at me?
Sadie hoped that tonight she would have some answers. Eli had asked her to join him for dinner. It wasn’t uncommon except for the fact he’d asked her four days ago to save this specific night. Did he happen to know that it was the anniversary of her parents’ death? Surely he couldn’t know. Still, God did. Maybe God knew she’d need special care today.
