Sandra pulled herself out of her thoughts to call out, “Supper’s ready!”
The voices stopped in the living room, and moments later she heard the front door open and Mamm’s voice hollering toward the barn, “Supper, boys!”
Sandra bit her lip. This did sound like a family’s supper time, but it wasn’t. Daett was gone, and Amos couldn’t take his place. He never could.
Sandra jumped when Amos walked into the kitchen with a big smile on his face. He greeted her with a cheerful, “It all smells so goot, Sandra.”
“Thanks,” Sandra replied, without an expression. She pointed to an empty chair. “You can sit there.”
Amos didn’t seem fazed by the cold reception. “You’re looking mighty chirpy tonight,” he teased.
Sandra ignored him, and thankfully Mamm showed up seconds later.
“It’s ready,” Sandra told Mamm. “All you have to do is sit down.”
The washroom door slammed behind them, and Mark and Clyde entered noisily. Sandra waited until the two had taken their seats before she sat down herself. She made sure her eyes didn’t catch Clyde’s.
“Let’s pray,” Mamm said, looking at Amos with a smile.
Amos led out in prayer at once. But that was just the man’s way, Sandra told herself. She pushed the bitter thoughts away and bowed her head. Amos could sure pray—that much was clear. He could almost match Bishop Henry’s prayers. Or perhaps Amos was just trying to impress Mamm. He didn’t have to bother, Sandra thought. Mamm wasn’t impressed with such things. Mamm would never have consented to a date with Amos, let alone a marriage proposal, if Daett hadn’t left them in such dire financial straits.
“Amen,” Amos said, and they all lifted their heads.
Sandra leaned over the table to pass the mashed potatoes, followed by the gravy.
Amos took the bowl first to proclaim loudly, “Goot eating here, I would say. We have much we can be thankful for, and such Christian hospitality.”
“Thank you,” Mamm whispered with a tear in her eye, which she quickly wiped away with her dress sleeve. Amos didn’t seem to notice, as he dished out a huge portion of mashed potatoes. “Not in many months have we seen such eating, have we Clyde?”
Clyde grinned. “Not since sister Clara got married.”
“That’s my youngest girl,” Amos said. “She was the last to leave home, leaving us men alone and forsaken. Clara was almost as goot-looking as your Sandra there.” Looking pleased with himself, Amos added, “Her husband has a huge farm in the old community.”
“That’s one reason we left,” Clyde said. “Everybody was getting so materialistic.”
Amos nodded, sober-faced. “That’s true. We came here to seek better spiritual values, and already the Lord is blessing our efforts.” He gave Mamm a meaningful glance.
Mamm’s face colored, but she kept her head down.
Sandra gathered her courage and asked Clyde, “Any prospects for you in the matrimonial field?”
Mark choked on his food, and Clyde seemed speechless at this bold question.
“The Lord will provide,” Amos answered for him. “And I’m thinking maybe He has already.”
“Oh.” Sandra didn’t hide her surprise. “I know Clyde used to date Rosemary. Is that on again?”
Clyde shook his head. “She was too worldly…though I know the community here seems to have accepted Rosemary and her family. But we remember the way things used to be.”
“You shouldn’t hold things her daett did against Rosemary,” Sandra scolded.
Clyde grimaced. “I suppose that’s our choice, don’t you think?”
“I guess so,” Sandra allowed.
Across the table Mark grinned at this exchange, but didn’t say anything.
You should be on my side, Sandra wanted to tell him. But there were no sides. Not if Amos planned to marry Mamm. The thought sent a stab of pain through her heart. How could Mamm move ahead with this plan?
Amos leaned forward to say, “We must all follow the way the Lord opens up before us. I hope you remember that, Sandra.”
So now the man was lecturing her. Sandra swallowed hard. “I seek the Lord’s will with my whole heart.”
Amos smiled and dished out a helping of green beans. “Then we have nothing to worry about.” Moments later he added, “This supper is very goot, Sandra. You’re an excellent cook.”
“Mamm helped too,” Sandra said. Mamm should have defended herself, but she obviously wouldn’t.
“Like mother, like daughter,” Amos said, aglow with happiness. “I expected as much, but you have done well in taking on your mamm’s excellent ways.”
She should say thank you, but the words were stuck in her mouth.
Amos didn’t seem to notice as he announced in a loud voice, “I believe Clyde has something he wishes to say, don’t you Clyde?”
“I’m not sure what you mean, Daett.” Clyde appeared puzzled.
“About what we looked at today.” Amos waved his spoon around. “You should tell Sandra.”
Clyde hesitated. “Well, it’s not a done deal, but I’m looking at a farm of my own. Not that large, but a start, and more acres than I could have bought in the old community with the high land prices there.”
“It’s a right nice-looking place,” Amos said, giving Sandra a sharp look. Sandra looked away. Amos had meant this information for her benefit, but why should she be surprised?
“Clyde’s not getting any younger,” Amos continued. “He’ll be choosing himself a frau before long. At least, that’s what I’ve been telling him.”
The words were plain enough, and Mark had also noticed. He sent Sandra a bemused glance across the table. What was wrong with Mark? Surely he didn’t agree, but Mark obviously liked Clyde. They had been laughing and talking when they came in from the barn.
“What do you say to all this, Sandra?” Amos asked, looking straight at her. “You seem lost in a daze.”
Sandra jumped to her feet. “I think we’re ready for dessert, that’s what. There’s pecan pie, and apple pie, and…”
Amos was still smiling when Sandra returned from the counter with the pies. Thankfully he didn’t force the subject again. Instead, as the pie was cut and served, Amos engaged Mamm in small talk and Mark and Clyde talked about horses. Sandra kept out of both conversations. The evening had already been enough of an embarrassment. Thankfully supper would soon be over, and she could clean the kitchen in peace by herself.
Amos finished his last bite of pecan pie with a loud smack of his lips. “That was some kind of goot pie there, Sandra, or did your mamm also make those delicious desserts?”
“I made them,” Sandra admitted, but offered nothing further.
Amos glanced around. “Let’s give thanks then, and we can scatter to what needs doing. Your mamm and I have much we must discuss.”
Mamm appeared pale, and Sandra almost reached over to squeeze Mamm’s hand, but she was sure Amos wouldn’t appreciate that.
Amos bowed his head again and soon pronounced an “Amen.”
The prayer had been much shorter this time, but had been delivered with just as much vim and vigor. Obviously Amos liked to pray out loud.
Sandra waited until Mamm had left with Amos for the living room, and Mark and Clyde were on their feet before she moved.
Mark headed for the washroom, but Clyde hollered after him, “I think I’ll stay and help Sandra wash dishes.”
Mark turned around and chuckled. “Suit yourself,” he said. “I’ll be in the barn when you’re done.”
“You’re not—” Sandra protested, but Clyde interrupted with, “Oh, yah, I am. You can’t turn down help with the dishes.”
He wasn’t as brash as his daett, but Clyde would soon get there. She stared at him. “I didn’t ask for help.”
“That’s because you didn’t want to embarrass me, but I don’t mind helping.” Clyde grinned and picked up a few dirty dishes to place them on the counter. “I like being around you. And I know
how to wash dishes. We’re bachelors, remember.”
What if I don’t like being around you? Sandra almost snapped. She forced herself to smile instead. “Really, Clyde, I appreciate the offer, but I need some time alone this evening.”
“But you’re alone all the time in this big house with your mamm.” Clyde looked around as if that made his point. “It’s not goot for women to live alone. Of course, I know you have no choice right now, and this wasn’t planned, but still…”
“You’ve been here for supper. That’s goot enough for me.” Sandra gave Clyde a bright smile. “And you’ve seen for yourself. I’m still quite sane, don’t you think?”
Clyde laughed. “No argument from me on that, but still, I’d like to help.”
Sandra’s face fell. She wasn’t going to win. “Okay. You can dry the dishes, and I’ll have my time alone for the rest of the evening.”
Clyde leaned against the counter and watched as Sandra filled the sink basin with hot water. He finally offered, “You know, my daett will wed your mamm soon.”
“I suppose so,” Sandra allowed.
“Where are you going to live?”
“Maybe Mark will have his own place by then.”
He wouldn’t, but she wasn’t about to tell Clyde.
“Daett says we all could fit in our big house.” Clyde shrugged. “But I’ll have my own place by then…I hope.”
Sandra put on her most cheerful tone. “I guess we’ll have to cross that bridge once we get there.”
“You know, you’re wasting your time with Ezra Wagler,” Clyde deadpanned.
“What?” Sandra shot back, scarcely believing his boldness.
Clyde laughed. “Don’t act surprised. Your attentions toward Ezra are common knowledge in the community. Yours and your cousin’s too. Although lately Lydia seems to have…”
Sandra struggled to keep her voice steady. “I will have you know that none of this is any of your business, Clyde. And Ezra will make his mind up soon without your help.”
“I guess we’ll have to see about that.” Clyde smirked.
A chill ran up Sandra’s back as she dipped her hands in the hot water. Did Clyde know something that she didn’t?
Chapter Nine
By twelve thirty the next day, the three-hour Sunday morning service had ended and Sandra was hurrying toward the kitchen. Ezra had been sitting on the third bench with the other unmarried men and out of her view all day. That was how things had gone lately when it came to her attempt to catch Ezra’s eye. Somehow she had to turn the tide, Sandra told herself. She didn’t want to wait on the unmarried men’s table today, but she had little choice if she wanted to speak with Ezra. Unlike the men, the girls had limited options in their pursuit of attention. Sandra cringed at the thought as Lena tugged on her arm. “Did the cat get in the vinegar bottle this morning?”
Sandra forced herself to smile. “I guess I should have added a little honey.”
Lena chuckled. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t tease you. Your daett hasn’t been gone that long, and Sundays must remind you of him.”
“Yah, they do,” Sandra admitted.
“The Lord will be with you,” Lena said.
“Thanks for your concern,” Sandra whispered, then hurried on to the kitchen. The place was filled with women as usual. Sandra waited a moment until there was a chance to approach the kitchen counter. Deacon Schrock’s frau, Ruth Ann, was in charge.
“Um…I can take the unmarried men’s table,” Sandra offered.
“Thank the Lord!” Ruth Ann exclaimed. “Only Rosemary has offered so far. What’s wrong with the girls today? Have the unmarried men scared them all off?”
Sandra gave Ruth Ann a shy grin and lowered her head. “I don’t know, but I’m up for it.”
“Then here.” Ruth Ann handed Sandra a tray filled with bowls of peanut butter and red beets.
Rosemary? Sandra asked herself as she left the kitchen with the tray. Why would Rosemary offer to serve the unmarried men’s table? Rosemary usually ran in the opposite direction when there was a chance to be exposed to the attentions of men. Did Rosemary wish to try for Clyde’s attention again? That was a distinct possibility. Wouldn’t that be a relief if Rosemary succeeded? Rosemary fit Clyde much better than Sandra did, regardless of Clyde’s fears about Rosemary’s liberal leanings. How dare Clyde think she would take him over Ezra Wagler, a goot dishwasher though he was?
Sandra took a quick glance down the stairwell. The unmarried men’s table was set up in the basement, and the steps weren’t wide enough for her tray with another person on the way up. The steps were empty at the moment, and Sandra moved down carefully. The men’s light banter filled her ears even before Sandra stepped out onto the concrete floor. A quick glance around showed her Rosemary at the other end of the table, apparently the center of the men’s attention. The girl was indeed up to something. Sandra stilled the anxiety in her chest and planted a big smile on her face.
Rosemary seemed oblivious to Sandra as her chatter continued. “There, that’s my last bowl!” Rosemary proclaimed. “You won’t starve until I get back.”
“Surely you’re not the only pretty face we’ll see today?” someone teased.
Rosemary blushed and hurried toward the basement stairs. When she looked up and caught sight of Sandra, Rosemary gasped. Guilt filled her face.
“What are you up to?” Sandra asked, in spite of herself.
Rosemary turned an even deeper red and rushed up the stairs without an answer.
Sandra’s thoughts were drowned out by a chorus from the men. “Oh, here we go. We’re getting something to eat after all.”
“Men!” Sandra muttered loud enough for the whole table to hear. “You are so spoiled!” But the warmth of their welcome flooded through her.
Clyde spoke above the noise. “And we are all such handsome dudes.”
Sandra glared at him and unloaded her bowls one at a time. Once she was near Ezra, Sandra paused until he looked up. Sandra gave him her sweetest smile and handed him the last bowl of peanut butter. “Here, this is especially for you.”
Ezra grinned. “My, I must be special.”
“Not fair!” several boys protested. “This is our table, too, and we get no personal service.”
Sandra kept on smiling. The men could tease all they wanted, but she had made her point and Ezra had gotten the message. She felt his gaze following her as she went back up the stairs. Why can’t Ezra just make up his mind? Sandra asked herself again. Her smile faded when Rosemary met her on the top of the steps with her tray full again, and Sandra held the door open for her. Rosemary still had a tinge of red on her cheeks, so Sandra stopped Rosemary with her free hand. “Just a second. What’s going on with you and the men down there?”
Rosemary tried to smile. “I don’t know. I just felt like serving today, and…”
Sandra gave Rosemary a steady gaze. “You know that’s not all the truth. You’re not yourself today. You’re…” Sandra let the sentence hang.
Rosemary sputtered. “You don’t have to—I mean—it’s my personal life, okay?”
“So why are you down there?” Sandra persisted.
Rosemary had blushed bright red again. “Look, I have to go, Sandra. They’re waiting.”
Sandra removed her hand, but she didn’t like this in the least. She watched Rosemary hurry down the steps. But what could Rosemary be up to? This was Rosemary, after all. Sandra knew she ought to be offering help instead of feeling these tinges of jealousy. Rosemary couldn’t be after Ezra. That wasn’t possible. Ezra had always been perfectly satisfied with the attentions she and Lydia had paid him. He had no other need in his life with two such offers dangling in front of his face.
So stop your worries, Sandra told herself. She refilled her tray and this time met Rosemary at the bottom of the basement steps. Rosemary had managed to compose herself and offered a smile. Behind them the men had quieted down, their mouths full of peanut-buttered bread.
“I t
hink with your tray they have all they need,” Rosemary said. “But I’ll check later.”
“Okay.” Sandra stepped aside. So Rosemary had now taken charge. That was something new. Fear niggled at her again. Suppose Ezra wasn’t safe? A lot had changed in the last few weeks—none of which had bettered her position or Lydia’s. But still…Rosemary and Ezra?
Sandra pasted on her brightest smile as she dropped off the bowls. “Coffee’s coming up,” she chirped. That was something Rosemary had forgotten, so she had the edge at the moment. But what a sorry state of affairs. Was she now competing with Rosemary? It didn’t seem possible.
“Hi, Ezra.” Sandra whispered near his ear. “I thought you might have gone to sleep.”
Ezra chuckled. “With this excellent peanut butter lunch, how can somebody sleep?”
“Just teasing.” Sandra moved on but gave Ezra another smile over her shoulder. He grinned back, just like in the days before Daett passed. Nothing had changed, Sandra assured herself. Nothing!
Rosemary was nowhere around when Sandra entered the kitchen again. She retrieved two coffeepots from the counter and made her way back downstairs. Most of the men wanted coffee, and Sandra teased them, “Don’t you know coffee is for old men?”
Light laugher went around the table.
One of the men asked, “Where did our other server go?”
“If you wouldn’t take so much coffee you would only need one,” Sandra shot back.
“Next she’ll be calling us spoiled again,” someone said.
Clyde raised his voice. “I’m sure Sandra can take care of everyone. So go easy on the woman.”
The man seated next to Clyde punched him in the ribs. “How come you’re going sweet on Sandra all of a sudden?”
Clyde nearly spilled his coffee as laughter filled the basement.
“I have to try my hand at love once in a while,” Clyde finally choked out. “And what prettier girl than Sandra Troyer?”
Hoots of laughter greeted the words.
“Men!” Sandra muttered again, glancing at Ezra. He now had a calm smile on his face. But why couldn’t the man stick up for her? Sandra moved closer to Ezra to whisper in his ear again. “Can’t you say something?”
A Heart Once Broken Page 6
