by Jo Ann Brown
“Do you still hear from them?” he asked as they walked toward the kitchen door.
“Ja. We have a circle letter that was started when the first of us moved away. Now we live in three states and five districts.”
“You’ve got a miniature version of The Budget, ain’t so?”
She laughed at the comparison. “The circle letter keeps us up-to-date on what the rest of the family is doing. Between the six of us cousins, we connect to two hundred people.”
“You and your friends are cousins?”
“Ja. My daed had seven brothers and six sisters.”
“And your mamm?”
“Was an only kind.” She laughed at the memory of Mamm telling how much trouble she had learning all her future in-laws’ names.
“As I was.”
She stopped to pick up an early hazelnut that had fallen in the yard. Its husk tried to stick to her fingers, but she rolled it along her palm. “I can’t imagine that.” She tossed the nut into the bushes for a squirrel to find. “Or maybe I can because it’s just Benjamin, Menno and me now. I miss the rest of the family. Do you miss yours?”
“Not really. After our first move, we never lived near family again.”
“My brothers may be overbearing at times, but they’re family.” She paused as they reached the back door. “I’m sorry you missed out on having a chance to get to know your extended family.”
“I am, too.” His eyes widened. “Usually when people say things like that, I shrug it off. However, you’re right. After seeing what the Summerhays kids share, it makes me wish I could have had that, too.”
“You can have it now. Either with the kids, who think of you as a big brother, or in our community.”
“You know I’m only staying until I get the doktor’s okay to work, ain’t so?”
“Of course, but why not enjoy what’s here while you do?” She wasn’t sure if she’d have another chance to share these thoughts with him. Having the kinder with them most of the day, it wasn’t simple to discuss serious issues. “Natalie loves talking about horses with you.”
“Ja.”
“Alexander and Ethan need a man to talk to. I can help the girls with things unique to girls, but with the boys, it’s not as easy.” She smiled. “You were a boy. You know how they think and feel. Would you—while you’re here recovering—be that person they can turn to?”
“I’ll have to think about it. Being a mentor to a kind is a big responsibility, Sarah.”
“The biggest, but from what I’ve seen of you, you aren’t a man who avoids responsibility. If you were, you wouldn’t be miserable waiting to get back on a horse and continue training those three horses you brought from Texas.”
“And spending a day at the stables in Saratoga.”
Her smile returned. “Don’t worry. I haven’t forgotten. If you get the okay from the doktor, I’ll talk to Mr. Summerhays about taking you there.”
“In the meantime, I’ll come up with ways to spend more time with the boys.”
“Danki,” she said.
His gaze swept her face and held her eyes. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly as his fingers curved along her cheek. Startled by her powerful reaction to his questing touch, she recoiled. He lifted his hand away, but she edged toward him again.
He murmured her name. Or she thought he did. Her heart was thumping too hard for her to hear anything as his fingers cupped her chin. As he tilted her face toward his, she held her breath, wondering if his kiss would be as sweet as she hoped.
When his lips brushed her cheek, she bit her lower lip to keep her sigh of disappointment from escaping. She blinked as he opened the door to release the cacophony of four kinder talking at once. His “danki” remained behind when he entered, leaving her outside alone.
She turned away and wrapped her arms around herself, cold though the day remained hot and humid. How narrisch she’d been to think he’d kiss her! He’d been honest from the beginning. He couldn’t wait to leave for his life with its few obligations. He knew how he wanted his life to go. She’d been dumm to think anything—or anyone—could change that.
Especially Sarah Kuhns.
Chapter Eleven
Sarah’s brothers were quiet the next evening during supper. Instead of discussing, as they usually did, their day at the sawmill and what they would do the next morning, Menno and Benjamin were as silent as the clock she’d forgotten to wind before she left for the Summerhays house. They spoke only when they asked for food to be passed. As always, the evening meal was smaller than the midday meal. She’d prepared a casserole with ham leftover from earlier in the week along with cheese and pasta. A salad with vegetables she’d picked an hour ago in the garden and the bread she’d baked yesterday shared the table with pickles and apple butter and a bowl of chowchow.
Each attempt she made at starting a conversation failed while her brothers ate. Even when she asked how much longer it would take to fill the corncrib, they shrugged at the same time. That startled her because any other night, they would have given her a lecture about how, as a woman, she didn’t need to worry about the crops and that she should focus her concerns on her garden and the house.
She tightened her grip on her fork before setting it on her plate. Miriam and the Wagler twins didn’t have to endure such reprimands. Their families treated them like vital members, not a fragile piece of china that needed to be guarded from encountering the realities of life on a farm.
When they had first moved to the hollow along Harmony Creek, she’d assumed her brothers’ reluctance to be honest with her was because of their fears they couldn’t make the farm a success. They’d set up the sawmill, tilled the fields and planted apple trees. It would take three years before the trees bore fruit, but in the meantime, Menno and Benjamin could build their other businesses.
However, her brothers were determined to farm. It’d been three generations since the Kuhns family had depended on fields for their livelihood. What once had been their farm in Indiana had been sold acre by acre until only a single one remained. The men had worked in the RV factories or in shops owned by Englischers.
Their first harvest was about to get underway, and they were concerned about the amount of corn they expected to get from the few arable fields attached to their farm. The old corncrib had been emptied and swept out. Slats to prevent animals from getting in had been replaced. She guessed the corn, when stripped from the stalks, would fill about half of it.
“More biscuits?” she asked, holding up the plate.
Benjamin took two and mumbled a “danki,” but Menno didn’t glance in her direction.
Her brothers couldn’t look less alike. Menno had hair as dark as a bear’s. In fact, his friends in Indiana had called him Big Brother Bear before he was baptized. Benjamin’s hair had red highlights but was otherwise a plain brown. Both men had work-worn hands with layers of calluses from the long hours they’d spent at the sawmill or in the fields. Though neither brother would admit it, she guessed they’d discovered they didn’t like farming as much as they’d hoped. As soon as they could make a go with the sawmill, she suspected the fields would be rented to a neighbor. Most likely to David Bowman, because she’d heard her brothers discuss having sheep near their house.
After a second silent prayer of thanks when their dessert of chocolate cake with maple frosting was gone, Sarah began to clear the table. She set the dishes in the sink and ran hot water. The dish detergent spit air, and she knew she needed to add another bottle to her shopping list for the next time she went into Salem to grocery shop with her friends. She turned to write it on the whiteboard hanging on the refrigerator.
“Sit for a minute,” Menno said before she could return to the sink. “We need to talk.”
“About what?” she asked as she wiped her hands on the dish towel. Hanging it on the oven door’s handle, she walked to the t
able.
Her brothers exchanged glances but remained silent while she pulled out her chair and sat.
She was tempted to tell them they’d explained everything to her with that single shared look. How many times had she seen it since Daed died and her brothers took his place as head of their household? More times than she cared to count.
Each time, she saw those expressions before they were ready to announce something she wasn’t going to like. They hadn’t liked the idea of her working out as a nanny. They weren’t sure she should spend so much time with her friends in the Harmony Creek Spinsters’ Club. Ach, she was grateful she hadn’t mentioned that name in front of them!
Worst of all was the look they aimed at each other—and at her—when she’d talked about becoming an EMT. They’d acted as if she’d announced she wanted to run off and join a Broadway show. Her brothers had refused to discuss it, even Benjamin, who could be more reasonable. They were so certain of their decision that they seemed to believe she was the one who couldn’t see the truth.
Sarah folded her hands on her lap and waited to discover what her brothers had to say.
As always, Menno, as the oldest, took the lead. “Our sawmill is doing better with each passing week. We’re gaining more customers. Many are our neighbors, who are fixing farmhouses in the hollow, but others are Englischers who wish to have custom work done for their homes or businesses.”
“That’s gut,” she said with a sincere smile. “You’ve worked hard to establish the sawmill as the go-to place for fresh lumber.”
“Go-to?” asked Benjamin.
“Something the Summerhays kinder say. It means—”
Menno interrupted her. “We know what it means. I didn’t know you did.”
“I hear the same things you do.”
“I’m sure you hear more at that Englisch house.”
She frowned. “Why are you acting distressed about my job? I’ve been there since the end of last year. You’ve been grateful for my wages and how I have time to take care of this house as well as be a nanny for the kinder.”
“Things change.” Menno raised his chin as if daring her to contest his statement.
“I agree.” She wasn’t going to quarrel with her brothers.
Benjamin surprised her when he said, “Get to the point, Menno.” He usually went along with whatever their older brother did.
When Menno refused to meet her eyes, she could contain her curiosity no longer. “Ja, Menno,” she said, “please say what you want to talk to me about. I’d like to get the dishes done in time to do mending before bed.”
Menno drew in a deep breath, then said in a rush, “James Streicher is interested in meeting you.”
She searched her mind. Three families had moved into the settlement along Harmony Creek in the past month, but she couldn’t recall anyone by that name. There had been a tall, thin man she didn’t recognize at the last church Sunday services. Was he James Streicher?
“I don’t think I know him,” she said.
Her brothers looked at each other again before turning to her.
Benjamin answered this time. “We met him yesterday. He’s sharing a house with the Frey family while he builds his own place next door.”
“Next door to the Freys?” She thought the Troyers lived there.
“No, next door to us.” He pointed to the east.
“There’s another farm between us and the Freys?”
“Not a farm. Just a couple of acres on the other side of the creek, but James doesn’t need much space. He’s a blacksmith. The last Englisch smith closed his forge a year or so ago. There’s a real need for a blacksmith in the area.”
She thought of Frank and the rumor he’d heard about a blacksmith coming to Harmony Creek. “It sounds as if James has seen a gut opportunity in our new settlement.”
“James’s got a gut head on his shoulders.” That was the finest compliment Menno could give. He had no use for emotion, only common sense and hard work.
Which made Sarah wonder why he didn’t offer her more respect. She worked hard every day at the Summerhays house while making a home for her brothers. When they had to stay late at the sawmill or while doing other chores around the farm, she never once complained. She kept their meals ready for them whenever they wanted to eat.
“He’s come from Milverton in Ontario,” Menno added. “In Canada.”
Not wanting to tell him she knew geography, too, she replied in the same steady tone, “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone from those districts.” She smiled at her brothers, wondering why they were making such a big deal about a new neighbor. “I’ll make sure I greet James after our next church service and welcome him to our settlement.”
“Make sure you talk to him,” Menno said. “It’ll be better if you do before he brings you home from the singing.”
Sarah sat straighter, her eyes widening. She must have heard her brother wrong. He expected her to accept an invitation for a ride home with a stranger from a youth event that she hadn’t planned to attend?
Impossible.
As she started to say that, Menno waved her to silence. “You didn’t hear me wrong, Sarah. James will be bringing you home from the singing.”
“You told him I’d let him do that? Without mentioning it to me first?”
“You’ve been running around with your friends long enough, Sarah. Benjamin and I agree it’s time for you to marry. As your brothers, we want to see you settled.”
“Whether or not I’m happy to be settled with someone I’ve never met is irrelevant, ain’t so?”
“We don’t want you to be miserable,” Benjamin said, shooting a frantic look at their older brother.
“But,” Menno continued, as if they’d practiced the conversation—and she wouldn’t have been shocked to learn that they had, “if you’re going to argue you need to fall in love first, you know many marriages have been successful though the couple weren’t in love when they married.”
“I didn’t realize either of you was an expert on either love or marriage.”
Sarah should have wanted to take back the words as soon as she spoke them because she saw how Benjamin cringed, but she was too angry. She’d heard whispers about Benjamin and a young woman walking out together in Indiana, but even if it’d been true, the young woman had married someone else.
Was her brother the victim of a broken heart? Had he waited too long as Leanna had to share the truth with the one he loved?
Her sympathy for Benjamin was swept aside when Menno stood and pointed at her. “You will agree to this, little sister. We know it’s time for you to be done with your work as a nanny and for you to start a family of your own. James has seen you, and he’s willing to walk out with you in spite of your bizarre ideas.”
“Like learning to help others as an EMT?” She rose, too, though she knew she was throwing oil on the fire of her brother’s fury.
“He knows—as I do...I mean, as we do—that a plain woman’s place is taking care of her family, not Englisch ones.”
“But—”
“I won’t argue about it. Our minds are made up.” Menno whirled on his heel and stamped away.
She looked at Benjamin. Again, he wouldn’t meet her eyes as he stood and followed their older brother into the front room.
Frustration sent her toward the back door. This time, her well-meaning brothers had gone way too far. She grabbed her bonnet off the peg and tied it beneath her chin. Going out, she prayed a walk would give her enough time to cool down.
She wondered if it was possible to walk that long.
* * *
Toby was standing by the pasture fence and watching Bay Boy go through his exercises with Mick, the most skilled groom at Summerhays Stables. Bay Boy wasn’t as skittish with the other man as he’d been when Mick first started working with him. The horse was
confused why Toby remained on the other side of the fence.
“Don’t let him turn so slowly!” Toby called. “He needs to lean into the turn if he’s going to keep up with the field.”
Mick motioned he’d heard as he continued to work with the horse.
“He’s stubborn, isn’t he?” Natalie asked as she came to stand beside Toby.
He stared at the kind in astonishment. There wasn’t an inch of her not covered with mud. Had she been rolling in puddles?
As if he’d asked aloud, she said, “We’ve been building a castle behind the house.”
“Where they’ve been taking down the trees?”
Ethan bounded to join them. “It’s the best, Toby! You need to come and see our castle.” The boy and the other two who appeared on his heels were as filthy as Natalie.
“It looks as if you’ve been having a gut time,” Toby said with a laugh. Odd how easily laughter came now that he no longer tried to dam it inside him.
He listened as they told him how they’d dug around the disturbed ground and how Alexander had the big idea to link the holes to form a moat. When they finished their tale, he sent them off to the stable to wash off before going into the house. He doubted Mrs. Hancock would appreciate four mud-covered youngsters on the fancy floors and carpets.
When they scurried away, Toby turned to watch Bay Boy finish his session. His eyes focused on a familiar form that appeared from among the trees at the far side of the pasture. Sarah was coming across the meadow. He waved to her and smiled when she changed direction to come toward where he stood.
His smile faded as she strode past him and inside the house. She hadn’t acknowledged him.
Turning, he hobbled into the smaller living room with its large fieldstone fireplace and beamed ceiling. He ignored the fancy overstuffed furniture and elegant wooden tables, his gaze focused on Sarah. He was amazed she didn’t pound her feet right through the floor. He jammed the crutches under his arms and moved so he was in her path as she turned to storm across the room.
She stared at him. “What are you doing, Toby?”
