The Hearts of Middlefield Collection

by Kathleen Fuller

  Deborah almost smiled. Considering they lived on a dirt road off the beaten path, there was no chance of that happening. But hearing her father say he would wait on the perfect buyer gave her hope.

  “Ya, I’ll need to find someone who will treat the land with respect. Someone like Stephen.” He nodded. “He’d make a fine farmer. Never seen a mann take to farming like him.”

  “But he’s a carpenter. He has his own business.”

  Her father tugged on his beard. “That he does. But maybe I could convince him otherwise.”

  Naomi’s accusation against Stephen rang in Deborah’s head. Surely her sister wasn’t right. It had to be a coincidence that her father brought Stephen up. She couldn’t imagine Stephen’s generosity was just an act to get in their good graces. Or was it?

  She stood up and kissed her father on the cheek, making sure not to reveal her thoughts. “You don’t have to think about that right now, okay? Naomi and I have everything under control. Promise me you’ll rest and not worry about anything.”

  “But—”

  “Promise?”

  “All right,” he huffed, leaning back. As he closed his eyes, Deborah picked up the tray of uneaten oatmeal and left the room, quietly closing the door behind her.

  She walked into the kitchen to see Naomi wiping down the countertop. The dishes Deborah used to make breakfast had disappeared. Naomi had probably washed, dried, and put them away already. She set the tray on the kitchen table and sat down. She rubbed her temples, not wanting to bring up the subject of the farm with her sister. But after the conversation with her father, she knew she had to. Better to get it over with now. “Daed really is thinking about selling the farm.”

  “What?” Naomi spun around and faced her. “When did he say that?”

  “Just now. I asked him.”

  Naomi threw the dishrag on the counter. “I knew it. I bet he’s planning to sell it to Stephen Byler. Did he say anything about that?”

  “He mentioned him—”

  “I told you.” She locked her furious gaze on Deborah. “He’s brainwashed Daed into selling to him.”

  She shook her head. “Nee. That can’t be right.” But even as she said the words, doubt slithered into her thoughts. Her judgment had always been bad when it came to men; trusting Chase was a prime example. And now she had trusted Stephen. After yesterday, her feelings toward him were clear. She cared about him, not out of loneliness or because her life was upside down, but because of the man he was. Or the man she thought he was. Her heart ached at the possibility of being betrayed by someone she cared about. “Daed hasn’t made the decision yet. We just have to make sure it doesn’t get to that point.”

  Naomi’s expression softened a tiny bit. “What do you mean?”

  “We can help him run the farm. It can’t be too hard, can it? It’s not like we haven’t helped him over the years.”

  “Some of us more than others.”

  Her sister was right. During her rumspringa, Deborah had rarely been home to lend a hand. She had been too busy working at Mary Yoder’s, hanging out with her friends, and having fun. She couldn’t dwell on the guilt that accompanied that thought, however. She could put up with Naomi’s digs if it meant she could get her sister’s cooperation and they could keep the farm. “The harvest is in. The canning is almost done. We just have a few jars of green beans to finish. All we’ll have to do after that is take care of the animals.”

  “And prepare the garden for the winter,” Naomi added. “And what about the woodstove? We’ll have to make sure there’s enough wood to keep it going throughout the winter.”

  “But that’s pretty much it.”

  “Ya, if you don’t count laundry, cooking, cleaning, preparing for church service, which we’ll be hosting in a month, plus anything else I can’t think of at the moment.”

  Defeat dragged at Deborah. Couldn’t her sister be positive for once? “Are you saying we can’t do this? That we should just let Daed sell the farm without even trying?”

  Naomi didn’t answer for a long moment. “Nee.”

  “Then we’ll have to work together to make sure that doesn’t happen. Can we do that?” She heard Will crying upstairs. She stood. “I have to geh get him.” She glanced at the tray behind her. “I’ll take care of that when I come back down.”

  Naomi picked up the oatmeal bowl from the tray and dumped it into the trash can without saying anything, keeping her back to Deborah.

  Deborah shook her head. Her sister would never change. Not only did she have an uphill battle taking care of the farm, she’d still be fighting Naomi. She moved to leave the kitchen when Naomi called her name.

  “What?” she said, turning around.

  Her sister paused, glancing down at the floor for a moment. Then she looked up, the tight lines around her lips relaxing. “What do you think Will wants for breakfast?”

  Chapter 19

  Zach pulled Maggie to a stop in front of the school, then tied her reins to the hitching post. He turned and looked at the familiar building in front of him. The students had already gone home for the day, and Ruth was inside, ready to give him his first reading lesson. But he was more nervous than a spooked horse. Ruth said she could teach him to read. Promised him. But he still wasn’t sure if she could. Not because he doubted her. He questioned whether he could learn. He spent eight years in this schulhaus and he still couldn’t read. What if he would never be able to?

  He continued to stare at the schoolhouse. A little more than a month had passed since he’d driven into the back of it, and so much had changed. His relationship with his father had begun to heal. He had a steady job he enjoyed and his boss’s respect. And his relationship with Ruth had grown into something beyond friendship. He cared for her more than he thought possible. Just thinking about her made him smile. Taking a deep breath, he walked toward the door. He let out a chuckle when he thought back to when he was a schoolboy. If someone had told him he would be spending this much time in a schoolhouse—without being forced to—he would have said they were crazy. But then again, he’d never had Ruth as a teacher.

  She was at the blackboard when he walked in. The weather had turned a little cool, and she wore a long-sleeved dark blue dress with a white apron. She turned and smiled, her blue eyes twinkling behind her glasses. So pretty. He went to her and stood by her side.

  Ruth looked at him. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Hope you can say that after our lesson.”

  She lifted her chin, still smiling, still filled with confidence. “I know I will.”

  “I better warn you, though. I’m not the best of students. Especially around a pretty teacher.” His comment made her blush, and he touched her heated cheek with his fingertip.

  She looked up at him, but didn’t move away. “I have a rule against buttering up the teacher.”

  “I’m not gut at following the rules, remember?” He chuckled as the color in her cheeks deepened.

  The door swung open, and Zach and Ruth both turned to see Jacob Kline rush into the classroom. He skidded to a stop in front of her desk. “I forgot mei hat . . .” A puzzled look crossed his face when he saw Zach. “What are you doing here?”

  Ruth glanced at Zach, then back at Jacob. “Zach’s checking on the window he replaced. I thought I felt a draft this morning.”

  Zach frowned. Why was she lying to him? Then he understood. She had no idea Jacob knew he couldn’t read. She was keeping his secret. He put his hand on her shoulder. “He already knows.”

  Her eyebrows arched. “He does?”

  “Ya.” He turned to Jacob. “Fraulein Byler is teaching me to read.”

  Jacob’s eyes widened. “She is?”

  He nodded. “You were right the other day, about not taking my own advice. So here I am. Ready to learn to read.”

  Jacob looked dumbfounded. “I can’t believe you listened to me.”

  “Why wouldn’t I?”

  He looked away. “I’m just a dumm kinn.
What do I know about anything?”

  “You know a lot.” Ruth came from the other side of the desk and stood in front of him. “You’re smart, Jacob. I’ve seen that in my classroom, and Zach has seen it too. I imagine your parents also know how intelligent you are. That’s why it frustrates all of us when you make bad decisions.”

  “Like skipping school,” Zach interjected.

  “And not doing your work.” She gave him a soft smile. “I’d like to see some changes in your behavior and work ethic, Jacob. I know you can do much better than you have been.”

  He looked doubtful, something Zach understood completely. “Hey, if I can change, anyone can. How about we make a deal? I’ll learn to read, you stay in school and do your best.”

  Jacob smirked. “What’s in it for me?”

  “An education,” Ruth said.

  “And . . . a trip to my secret fishing hole.” Zach grinned as Jacob’s expression changed from doubt to curiosity. “I guarantee you’ll catch twenty fish in one day.”

  “Twenty fish?” His eyes lit up. “We need to geh there now!”

  He held up his hand. “Nope, not until you get your grades up, and I finish my lessons.” He looked at Ruth. “Then we’ll let Fraulein Byler decide if we deserve the fishing trip.”

  Stephen sat at the small picnic table outside the woodworking shop, his lunch spread out in front of him. His brothers sat with him, Tobias across and Lukas right beside. Most days they ate outside, except during winter. Stephen looked at his food—a club sandwich, potato chips, and three brownies. None of it appealed to him. As he had been since yesterday, he was preoccupied with Deborah and Moses.

  Tobias and Lukas started talking about one of their regular customers who was being extra particular about an order. She had wanted everything done to perfect specifications and complained about every little thing, including price. “I have half a mind to tell her to take her special order elsewhere,” Tobias said.

  “Ya, but we don’t want to lose her business.” Lukas stabbed a piece of cherry pie with his fork. “She’s bought a lot of pieces from us the past couple of years.”

  “But is it really worth the aggravation?” Tobias wiped a bit of mustard from his bologna sandwich off his mouth and sandy blond beard. “It’s not like she’s our only customer.”

  “But she’s a gut customer, one we want to keep. So we listen to her complain and do what she asks. If you don’t want to deal with her anymore, let Stephen do it. He’s always gut with the customers. Right, Stephen?” When Stephen didn’t answer, Lukas nudged him in the side.

  “What?” Stephen looked at his brother.

  “You’re not listening to us, are you?”

  Stephen had to admit he only caught parts of their conversation. “You’re talking about Mrs. Baxley?”

  “Ya.” Tobias grinned. “We decided you’ll handle the customer relations with her from now on.”

  Stephen rolled his eyes. “I’d rather chew razor blades for the next twenty years.”

  “Ouch,” Tobias said. He took another bite of sandwich as their father came out of the shop and joined them. He sat next to Tobias, and the three of them started talking about Mrs. Baxley again.

  Stephen tuned them out. He couldn’t think about a persnickety customer, not when his mind was back with the Coblentzes. He’d meant what he said to Deborah last night—he would come out twice a day if he had to. Knowing Moses, he’d ignore the doctor’s advice and start working as soon as he could get out of bed. Deborah and Naomi would have their hands full taking care of him. They didn’t need the added burden of trying to run the farm too.

  “Stephen?”

  Stephen looked into the face of his father. His beard, although liberally threaded with silver, was still mostly dark like the hair on his head, which was a little thinner than it used to be. There were creases beneath his eyes, and he wore bifocals, which he needed for close-up work. His father had been talking more and more about retiring, and Stephen knew the shop would eventually go to all three of them, with Lukas being in charge. Even though he would have an equal share in a thriving business, he wasn’t sure he could see himself spending the rest of his life being a carpenter. And he’d been thinking about that more and more lately.

  “Sohn, is there something wrong? You’ve been real quiet this afternoon. Like you’re a million miles away.”

  He looked around to see that his brothers had already finished their lunch and gone back to work. His sandwich was untouched. He picked it up and started eating, wolfing down the food.

  Joseph chuckled. “Slow down. You don’t have to be in such a hurry.”

  “I have to get back to work.” He picked up his glass of water and took a long swig.

  “You’ve been working a lot lately. Not only for me. I noticed you’ve been spending a lot of time with the Coblentzes.” He looked at Stephen. “You look tired.”

  Stephen felt tired. But it wasn’t just from the physical labor. His feelings for Deborah and worry about Moses were taking a toll. Now he had something else weighing heavily on his mind. “Can I talk to you about something?” Without his brothers around, this would be a good time to do it.

  Joseph folded his hands and placed them on the table. “Sure. What’s on your mind, sohn?”

  “How did you know you wanted to be a carpenter?”

  Joseph’s bushy eyebrows lifted. He took off his glasses and set them on the table. “I suppose I’ve always known. My daed taught me how to build furniture. It was a hobby for him, but I loved it. Any spare time I had I was out in the barn, making something or trying to teach myself a new technique. I’d check books out from the library, or sometimes I’d just experiment with some scrap wood. I think I was younger than you when I decided I wanted my own shop.”

  “And you never had any doubts?”

  Joseph shook his head. “Doubts about my profession? Nee. Doubts about my skills as a carpenter and a businessman? Of course, especially in the early years. But I trusted that God wouldn’t have planted the passion in my heart or given me the skills unless He had wanted me to be a carpenter. The first years of the business were hard, but we have been blessed. Not only with a steady stream of work, but also with you, Tobias, and Lukas. I consider myself a lucky mann to have three sons following in my footsteps.”

  Stephen stared down at his half-eaten sandwich. A fly landed on the edge of the bread, and he swatted it away. His heart sank at the sound of his father’s words. He didn’t want to disappoint his daed, which would happen if he told him about his desire to become a farmer.

  “Why do you ask?” Joseph leaned forward.

  Stephen shrugged. “Just wondering.”

  “Oh, I think it’s more than that. If there’s something you want to tell me, go ahead. I’d like to think I raised my kinner, especially my buwe, to be able to tell me anything.”

  Pressing his lips together, Stephen took a deep breath. There was nothing else to do but tell his daed and hope he would understand. “I’m not sure I’m meant to be a carpenter.”

  Joseph looked surprised. “What makes you say that?”

  “I feel I’m meant to do something else. I want to do something else.” He picked at the crust on his bread, summoning the courage to say the words. He took a deep breath. “I want to be a farmer. Working with Moses these past couple weeks has proven it to me.” He looked at his daed, willing him to understand. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate the opportunity I have here, that you’ve given me all my life. I’ve never wanted for anything, and I have to thank you for that. I don’t think I ever told you how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”

  His father swallowed and looked away for a moment, then faced Stephen again. “Danki, sohn, for saying that.”

  “That’s why telling you this is so hard. I don’t want you to think I’m turning my back on you or my bruders. That’s not it at all.”

  Joseph looked at him squarely. “If you feel God is telling you to do something else, Stephen,
then you need to follow the Lord’s lead. The shop will be fine.”

  “But what about Tobias and Lukas? They’ll think I’m ab im kopp, and that their little bruder doesn’t know what he’s doing.”

  “Oh, I think you’d be surprised. And even if they do have that reaction, you can’t let them dictate what you’re meant to do. If God’s leading you in a different direction, then nothing any mann can say should keep you from the Lord’s path.”

  Stephen nodded, appreciating his father’s wise counsel. “I’m glad you understand.”

  “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. When you were yung, you always liked going to your grandparents’ farm and helping out my brothers and uncles. I remember how I’d have to track you down at night and drag you inside. You were always in the barn or out in the field somewhere.” He smiled. “You know, I was once in your position.”

  “You were?”

  “Ya. Only it was just the opposite. I had to tell my daed that I didn’t want to be a farmer. I come from a long line of farmers, and I think that’s where you got your love for it. We all know how important farming is to the Amish, and turning my back on that legacy was hard. But farming wasn’t where my heart was. My daed understood at that time. It would be hypocritical of me not to understand you.”

  Stephen’s jaw dropped. “I never knew that.”

  “Telling your mudder was almost as difficult. We had already decided to get married, but I knew I couldn’t marry her until I told her the truth and my plans for the future. I explained that not only did I want to set up my own carpentry business, but I wanted to move to Middlefield to do it. There were already a glut of carpenters in Holmes, and I thought the competition would be less here. Turned out it was.” He looked down at his rough hands and laughed. “I was so scared the day I told your mother. I thought she was going to tell me I was crazy, or worse, break up with me.”