“I came to do some cleaning and organizing inside, so I won’t be in the way of your painting the outside of the building.”
“Will the inside walls need to be painted, too?” Jimmy asked.
She nodded. “Probably so. It’s been a few years since they’ve had a new coat of paint.”
“By the time we’re done, this old schoolhouse will look as good as new.” Jimmy grinned at Leona.
“Well, I’d best be gettin’ back to work,” she said, feeling kind of flustered. “Give a holler if either of you should need anything.”
“Danki,” Eli said, before Jimmy could comment.
Leona stepped inside the schoolhouse and quickly shut the door. Leaning her full weight against it, she released a quiet moan. I can’t figure out why I feel so jittery all of a sudden. Maybe it’s the heat, or maybe I had too much coffee this morning. Jah, that must be it.
As Jimmy’s paintbrush connected with each wooden board, he thought about the Amish world here in Lancaster County and wondered if he’d really been kidnapped when he was a baby. As farfetched as Dad’s story seemed, Jimmy couldn’t help but wonder if he had been born Amish what he might be doing at this very moment. Would he have become a farmer like some Amish men in the area, or might he have learned a trade the way Eli and the others who worked for Jacob had done?
I can’t believe I’m even considering this, he thought with a shake of his head. But if there’s any possibility that my dad’s crazy story about me being Amish is true, then maybe I need to keep looking for answers. I wonder if Eli would know anything about an Amish baby being kidnapped in Lancaster County twenty years ago.
Jimmy squinted against the hot sun and pulled the bill of his painter’s cap over his forehead. Probably not, since he would have been a baby himself back then. And the Amish schoolteacher doesn’t look much older than Eli or me, so she probably wouldn’t know anything, either. But if I start asking questions and discover there really was a kidnapping, then Dad might go to jail. He gripped the paintbrush a little tighter. Mom wouldn’t want that—I know she wouldn’t.
Forcing his thoughts back to the job at hand, Jimmy decided that the best thing to do was get better acquainted with the Amish, learn more of their ways, and ask questions only when he felt the time was right.
Abraham was about to leave Naomi and Caleb’s store when he bumped into his best friend, who was heading inside. “Gut daag, Jacob. How are things with you?”
“Good day to you, too, friend. Everything is fine and dandy as far as I’m concerned,” Jacob said with a grin. “I hired me a new painter last week, and things are workin’ out real good.”
“Does that mean you’ve got lots of work these days?”
“Jah, and I’m gettin’ more jobs all the time. Counting myself and Arthur, I’ve got a crew of seven men now, and two of ’em are English.”
Abraham stepped to one side. “Guess you’ve got to have some Englishers so they can haul your equipment around in their rigs.”
Jacob nodded. “That’s right. As you know, Richard Jamison has worked for me a good many years, and we’ve been using his van all that time. Jimmy Scott, the new fellow I hired, drives a small pickup, so that will also come in handy.”
Abraham was about to comment when Naomi called out to him. “Papa, Edna Yoder’s daughter is on the phone. She has a message for Fannie. I figured it would be best if you spoke to her since you’re about to head for home and will see Fannie sooner than I will.”
“Excuse me, Jacob,” Abraham said, giving his friend a quick nod.
“Go right ahead,” Jacob replied. “I’m gonna get what I came for and head out to the schoolhouse to see how things are goin’ with the paint job there.”
Abraham went around the other side of the counter and picked up the telephone. “Abraham Fisher here.”
He listened for several seconds to the distraught voice on the other end. “I’m sorry to hear that. I’ll be sure to let Fannie know. I’m certain you’ll be hearing from her soon.”
Abraham hung up the phone and turned to face Naomi, who stood on the other side of the counter with a worried expression on her face. “I don’t know how I’m gonna tell my dear wife this distressing news, but her cousin Edna passed away this morning, apparently from a heart attack.”
Naomi’s eyes filled with tears. “Oh, how sad. Edna was such a funloving person. She will surely be missed.”
He nodded. “I’d best be on my way. I know Fannie will fall apart when she hears about Edna, and she’ll no doubt need a shoulder to cry on.” Abraham hurried out the door, whispering a prayer for all of Edna Yoder’s family.
“Hello, Papa,” Leona said, when her daed entered the schoolhouse shortly before four o’clock. “Did you come to check on the painters?”
He nodded solemnly. “I’ll be going by the Fishers’ place when I’m done here.”
“How come? Are they needing some painting done?”
He shook his head. “When I dropped by Hoffmeirs’ General Store a bit ago, I learned that Fannie’s cousin Edna died this morning.”
Leona gasped. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“I wonder how Gerald and Rachel are taking the news. First they lose their son, and now Gerald’s mamm.”
A vision of Ezra flashed into Leona’s mind, and she winced. If he were still alive, he’d be at his grandma’s funeral service, and I’d be there to offer him support and comfort.
“Fannie and her cousin Edna were so close,” Papa went on to say. “So I’m sure Fannie will take this pretty hard.”
“You’re probably right.” A stab of remorse shot through Leona as she thought about Ezra’s funeral. It had taken all her willpower not to break down in front of everyone. Ezra’s mamm had been so distraught, and Leona had kept her emotions in check that day to keep from causing Rachel further pain.
“Abraham left the store soon after I arrived, and he was planning to tell Fannie right away,” Papa continued. He combed his fingers through the ends of his long beard as he slowly shook his head. “I’ll need to go by and see her as well as those in Edna’s immediate family. So whenever you decide to go home, would you mind tellin’ your mamm what’s up?”
“Sure, Papa. Should we hold supper for you?”
He shook his head. “Tell your mamm to keep something warm, but the two of you should go ahead and eat without me. I don’t know how long I’ll be.”
“Okay.” Leona pondered the idea of volunteering to go along with her daed, but the thought of trying to offer comfort to the Yoders was too much to bear right now. She figured it would probably bring back a flood of painful memories for her, and even though she knew she would have to work through it on the day of Edna’s funeral, she just couldn’t deal with that today.
Papa’s eyes narrowed as he studied the room. “Looks like these walls are gonna need a good coat of paint after the outside gets done.”
“I’ve been thinking that, too.” Leona’s gaze went to the front window, where she caught a glimpse of Jimmy taking two cans of paint from the back of his pickup. “Will the same painters you have doing the outside work do the inside, as well, or should we let some of my students’ parents do that painting?”
“I’ll probably ask Jimmy and Eli to do it, and the parents can do some of the cleaning and repairs you still need to have done.” He grinned. “I’m real happy with that new English fellow. He says his daed owns his own painting business out in Washington. Evidently, Jimmy started workin’ for his father when he was a teenager. ’Course, the young fellow ain’t much more than that now.”
“He does look young,” Leona agreed, “but he seems to know a lot about painting.”
“That’s what I thought, too.”
“What else do you know about Jimmy Scott?” she questioned. “I mean—other than he comes from the state of Washington.”
Papa shrugged and leaned against one of her pupil’s desks. “That’s about all.”
Leona glanced out the window again,
but Jimmy was now out of view.
“Guess I’d best be going.” Papa leaned over and kissed Leona’s forehead. “See you later this evening.”
She nodded. “And don’t worry about any of your chores in the barn. I’ll see that all the animals are fed and watered if you’re not back in time.”
“Danki, Leona. You’re a real good dochder.” He headed for the door, calling over his shoulder, “And you’re gonna make some lucky fellow a mighty good wife some day.”
Leona’s gaze went to the ceiling. I’m glad he thinks I’m a good daughter, but I sure hope he gives up soon on that idea of me being any kind of a wife—good or otherwise.
Sweat beaded on Jimmy’s forehead and trickled onto his cheeks. This hot, sticky weather was a lot harder to deal with than the milder climate he was used to on the West Coast. Even during the warmest days of summer, they never had to endure humidity and heat such as this. He wondered if the people who lived here ever got used to this kind of weather.
He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a rag. He wiped his damp face with it and groaned. “Guess I’d better head for that water pump out behind the schoolhouse,” he told Eli, who kept right on painting. Apparently, the man didn’t mind the heat at all. “I drank my last bottle of water when I ate lunch. Sure wish I’d thought to bring a few more along.”
“The water from the pump will have to do then,” Eli said, moving past Jimmy to grab another bucket of paint. “I can’t believe we’re on our second coat already. These old boards sure have soaked up the paint.”
Jimmy was about to head around back when Leona showed up carrying a thermos, two paper cups, and a few cookies. “You two have been working hard all day, and I thought you might want to take a break,” she said.
Jimmy nodded appreciatively, noticing the way her green eyes sparkled when she smiled. Apparently, she didn’t mind the heat, either. “Thanks.”
“Danki, Leona,” Eli said with a nod.
“You’re welcome.” She took a seat on the top porch step, opened the thermos, and poured them each a cup of cold tea. Then she removed the plastic wrap from the cookies and offered those to the men. “If I’d known anyone was coming to paint the schoolhouse today, I’d have brought more treats. These cookies were supposed to be my snack, but I’ve had all I can eat.”
Jimmy took two cookies and popped one into his mouth. “Umm. . . they’re really good. Peanut butter is my favorite kind.” He took a seat beside Leona, but Eli remained standing as he gulped down his iced tea.
“This tea is real gut,” the Amish man said.
“The word gut means ‘good,’ right?” Jimmy asked.
“Yes, it does,” Leona replied before Eli could answer.
“I took a year of German in high school, so I know a few words.” Jimmy grinned. “Of course, I’m not very fluent in the German language, and I don’t understand most of the Pennsylvania Dutch that you Amish speak.”
“I think it’s best learned by listening,” Eli said. “Hang around me awhile, and by the end of summer, you’ll have learned a lot more of our Deitsch.”
When Abraham entered the house, he found Fannie and the twins sitting at the kitchen table eating pieces of apple crumb pie with tall glasses of milk. It was a happy scene. He hated to interrupt, but the news he had to share couldn’t wait.
He cleared his throat twice, and Fannie glanced over her shoulder. “I didn’t expect you’d be back so soon, Abraham. Figured you and Naomi might get to gabbing or that you’d want to spend a little time with those kinskinner of yours.”
Abraham moved over to the table and pulled out a chair. “Sarah and Susan were helping their mamm in the store, but I don’t know where Naomi’s other four kinner were today.”
“Nate and Josh were probably out behind the store playing,” Titus spoke up. “They like to hang out there and pretend like they’re carin’ for the buggy horse they keep in the small corral.”
“That’s so they don’t have to do any work in the store,” Timothy put in. “I’d like to see those two follow us around in the fields all day. A couple of hours out there in the hot sun, and they’d understand what hard work’s all about.”
“Josh is only eleven, and Nate just turned nine,” Fannie said with a shake of her head. “They should be allowed to play once in a while. Besides, their daed owns the general store. He doesn’t farm for a living.”
“Looks like you two are pretty good at finding ways to take a break.” Abraham leaned over and poked Titus on the back. “For a couple of strong teenagers, you can sure figure out ways to get out of doin’ a full day’s work.”
“Ah, Papa, we ain’t sloughing off,” Timothy said with a grunt. “We got hot out there in the fields and decided to come up to the house to get somethin’ cold to drink.”
“Jah, and when Mama saw us standin’ out back at the pump, she invited us inside for pie and milk,” his twin brother added.
Abraham smiled despite the sad news he had to share. “I think you’ve had enough of a break for now. If you eat more of your mamm’s pie, you won’t want supper.”
“I’ll be able to eat again by supper time,” Timothy announced.
“Even so, I want you to get back to work, because there’s a lot to be done in the fields yet today.”
Titus slid his chair back and stood. “You comin’, Papa?”
Abraham shook his head. “I’ve got something I need to say to your mamm first.”
The boys gave him a questioning look, but neither one said a word. They gulped down the last of their milk, grabbed their straw hats from the pegs by the back door, and rushed out of the house.
Fannie turned to Abraham and smiled. “What’d you need to speak to me about?”
Abraham took hold of her hand. “I’m afraid I’ve got bad news.”
Fannie’s face registered alarm. “What is it, husband?”
“While I was at the store, I received word that Edna had passed away this morning. They think she had a heart attack.”
Fannie covered her mouth and gasped. “Nee, nee, she can’t be dead. I saw Edna last week at a quilting bee, and she looked just fine.”
Abraham sat there a few minutes waiting for his announcement to register fully. He knew his wife well enough to realize that she needed more time to process this distressing news.
After a few minutes, Fannie spoke again. “Ever since I moved to Pennsylvania, Edna and I have been best friends. How can I go on without my dear cousin?” Her chin trembled as tears gathered in the corners of her eyes.
Abraham quickly wrapped his arms around her. “You’ve been through worse in years past, and you’ll get through this, too. With God’s help, we can survive any of life’s tragedies.”
“I appreciate you goin’ to the Fishers’ place with me,” Leona’s daed said as the two of them headed down the road in his buggy the following day.
“Since Mom’s coming down with a cold and wasn’t feeling well enough to accompany you, she asked me to come along in her place.”
Papa glanced over at her and smiled. “I know I’ve said this before, but you’re gonna make some man a real good wife someday.”
Leona’s face heated, and she quickly changed the subject. “When you went over to see Fannie yesterday, did you feel that she had accepted her cousin’s death?”
“Afraid not,” Papa said with a shake of his head. “Fannie was so distraught, and nothing either Abraham or I said seemed to offer much comfort, so I thought I’d try again today. We need to get her feeling as if she can cope better before Edna’s funeral service.”
“Now that she’s had a few days to mourn, maybe she’s calmed down some.”
He nodded. “I’m eager to know if that’s the case.”
“How are Ezra’s folks coping with Edna’s death?” she asked.
“As well as can be expected. I spoke with Gerald’s sister, Gretchen, too, and she’s holding up pretty well.”
They pulled into the Fishers’ yard then, and Papa p
arked the buggy near the barn. Leona reached behind the seat and retrieved the wicker basket she’d brought. Then she climbed down from the passenger’s side. As soon as Papa had the horse tied to the hitching rail, they strode toward the house, arm in arm.
Mary Ann greeted them at the back door. “I’m glad you’ve come,” she whispered, glancing over her shoulder. “Mama Fannie’s not been herself since she heard about Edna, and I’m worried about her.”
“Where is she now, and where’s Abraham?” Leona’s daed asked.
“Papa’s out in the fields with my brothers. Mama Fannie’s in there huddled on the sofa.” Mary Ann motioned to the door that led to the living room. “I found her that way when I got home from the quilt shop awhile ago.”
“Maybe she’s tired and needed a nap,” Leona suggested.
Mary Ann shook her head. “She’s heartsick over losing Edna.”
“I’ll have a word with her.” Papa turned to Leona. “Why don’t you stay in the kitchen with Mary Ann? You two can visit while I speak to Fannie.”
“That might be best.” Mary Ann pulled out a chair at the table. “I’ll pour us some lemonade.”
Papa left the room, and Leona took a seat. “How are things at the quilt shop?”
“Busy as usual for this time of the year. Abby says she’s glad she hired me to help out because there’s just too much work for her and Stella to do by themselves. Besides, once the school year begins, Stella will be back in school and won’t be able to help Abby at all.” Mary Ann went to the refrigerator and took out a pitcher of lemonade, which she placed on the table. Bringing two glasses with her, she sat in the chair across from Leona. “I’m sorry you haven’t made it to any of the young people’s functions so far this summer. I think it would be good for you and help take your mind off—”
“Edna’s funeral will be hard for many to get through,” Leona interrupted. She didn’t want to talk about her going to any young people’s functions.
The Bishop's Daughter Page 12
