Amanda Weds a Good Man

by Naomi King

  At that moment, with her face mere inches from his and her lips slightly parted, James couldn’t think rationally about food or anything else. He leaned toward Abby and met her mouth with his, searching . . . tasting a deep sweetness that went beyond sugar and spices. “You, Abby,” he whispered. “You surely must be the best flavor there is, and I’m glad God’s brought us together in time for me to realize that.”

  Abby looked so pleasantly surprised that James knew he’d remember the expression on her face forever. “We have the rest of our lives to share, James,” she replied quietly. “And now that you’ve finally caught up to my feelings, it’s my mission to learn as much as I can about what you like and don’t—”

  “You can’t go wrong, Abby. As long as I’m with you, I’ll be a happy man.” James glanced at the road to ascertain their location, because Abby’s presence often made him lose track of where he was and what he intended to say. He gazed into her eyes again, hoping he got his words right. “Do . . . do you want to court for a while, then? What with so many folks tying the knot—”

  “With all these weddings in the next few weeks, I’m glad I don’t have to get ready for my own,” she insisted. “Mamm and Barbara are spending every spare moment baking bread. Or they’re updating Beulah Mae Nissley about more folks coming from out of state, so she can figure out how many chickens to roast for the two big dinners. It would almost make more sense if both weddings were on the same day.”

  Abby paused to inhale the fresh air. “But then, that would deprive each couple of their special celebration, wouldn’t it? I still have wedding dresses to make for Mamm and Phoebe, along with my usual sewing for other folks,” she went on. “If you and I are going to hitch up, James, I’d like it to be at a time when we’re not so busy.”

  Will that day ever come? While he felt relieved that Abby didn’t think other couples were getting a head start on happiness, James also realized that Abby’s Stitch in Time and Graber’s Custom Carriages weren’t going into a slack period anytime soon—or at least he hoped they weren’t.

  And then there was the matter of actually proposing to her. While he and Abby had reached an understanding that they intended to court and marry, it was only fitting to ask her properly. James wanted to leave nothing undone when it came to giving Abby everything she deserved, everything that could possibly make her as happy as she made him.

  But when the tall grain elevator buildings came into sight on the horizon, he filed away all thoughts of romance. Even though he and Abby both enjoyed Wyman’s kids, it would be more like a circus than a date once they got to the Brubaker farm. Sure enough, as they turned in at the long lane, James spotted a boy racing around in the yard, tossing a neon yellow tennis ball for his boisterous dog. Wags was part German shepherd and part something else, and even though he was still a pup, he was nearly as tall as Simon.

  “I vaguely recall having that much energy at one time,” James remarked.

  “Ah, but you still have plenty of energy, James. You’ve just learned how to focus it on the jobs that need doing.” Abby waved as a young woman stepped out of the Brubakers’ large white farmhouse with a toddler on her hip. “And someday when you’re a dat, you’ll figure out how to spend time with your kids, even when you think you couldn’t be any busier at your shop.”

  James considered what his woman had just said. It tickled him that she was thinking about starting a family, even if the Brubaker bunch would give any woman pause. Wyman had five nice-looking, well-intentioned kids, but it seemed they raised a ruckus everywhere they went—probably because their dat couldn’t keep after them the way Viola had. “Let’s hope Amanda can establish herself as the mamm of this big, blended family before they overwhelm her,” he said as they pulled up beside the house.

  “She’s got her work cut out for her,” Abby agreed.

  The huge gray dog bounded toward the rig with the tennis ball locked between his front teeth, managing to bark with his mouth full.

  “Wags—whoa, boy!” Simon hollered as he ran toward them. His straw hat had blown off, so when he stopped alongside the buggy, he gazed up at them with windblown hair and a grin full of mischief. “Whatcha doin’ out this way, James Graber? And whatcha got in that box, Abby? Treats for me?”

  James hopped down from the rig to assist Abby. “You’d best make your dog behave, son,” he said, “because if he knocks those whoopie pies out of Abby’s hand, there won’t be any left for you, ain’t so?”

  Without missing a beat, Simon snatched the ball from between his dog’s teeth and lobbed it as far across the yard as he could. When Wags ran after it, the boy stood before them with a hopeful expression on his face. “Whoopie pies? Those are my favorite! Are they chocolate ones with marshmallow filling, or—”

  “Simon! Mind your manners!” Vera stepped down from the porch, balancing Alice Ann on her hip. “Matter of fact, you’ll sit in the swing until Abby offers you a goody.”

  Simon’s face fell. He turned and made quite a display of walking toward the house to wait.

  “We’re working on him,” Vera went on in a lower voice, “but he’s been kind of wild since Mamm passed.”

  “He couldn’t have been much older than this little punkin when that happened,” Abby said as she patted Alice Ann’s bottom. “And are you excited about getting a new mamm, sweetie?”

  Alice Ann slipped her thumb into her mouth, gazing wide-eyed at Abby.

  “I’m thinking Amanda will be gut for all of us,” Vera replied as she shifted her little sister onto her other hip. She looked at James. “If it’s Dat you need to see, he’ll be at the elevator a while longer, by the looks of those wagons lined up to unload their corn.”

  “No need to bother him.” James took the two repaired wheels and a toolbox from the back of his buggy. “If you’ll point me toward the rigs these go on, I can have them remounted in just a few.”

  “I know where they go! I can help!” Simon, who hadn’t yet reached the porch swing, jogged toward James again. His face glowed with the need to be useful.

  “And you’re just the sort of helper I’m looking for, too,” James replied. “No need for the girls to stand around while we do the work, ain’t so?”

  “Jah! You and me, we can do it, James.”

  James’s pulse sped up with an unexpected thrill. It wasn’t often he got to spend time with kids, as his older sisters and their families lived a couple hours away. He’d forgotten how much fun it was when a five-year-old got excited about being his right-hand man. “How about if you carry the toolbox and lead the way, Simon. I’ll handle these heavy wheels.”

  When the boy grabbed the box’s metal handle, he flinched at its weight, but then he hurried ahead to the nearest outbuilding.

  “You folks have a lot of rigs,” James remarked when they’d stepped inside.

  “Jah, this one’s Eddie and Pete’s,” the boy pointed out as they walked the length of the narrow building. “And this is the big one we take to church or—”

  “And let’s put one of these wheels on that back axle that’s sticking out. We’ll use your dat’s jack,” James said as he took it from a peg on the wall. When the back end of the buggy was raised and steady, he smiled at Simon. “Can you slip this wheel onto the axle while I find us a linchpin?”

  Simon grabbed the wooden wheel, which was nearly as tall as he, by its spokes and carefully lined up the hole in the center. “Got it!” he crowed.

  “Gut job, Simon. You’re a mighty strong young fellow.”

  “So now what’re ya doin’?”

  James smiled at the boy’s enthusiasm. “I’m lining up the holes just right and then you can steady the wheel while I drop the linchpin in place. Hold it for me riiight . . . there.”

  Simon put his whole body into this task as James slipped the metal pin into its slot. “Are you ready to have three new sisters move into your house?” he asked
as he tested the spin of the repaired wheel.

  Two brown eyes studied him intently. “You mean Cora and Dora? And Lizzie?”

  “Jah. Along with their mamm and their mammi Jemima.” James pumped the jack until the buggy was sitting on the ground again. “That’s a few weeks away, though.”

  Simon’s brows knit. “Does that mean Cora and Dora’ll be sharin’ my room?” he whispered doubtfully. “Playin’ with my wagons and trains?”

  James laughed and rumpled the boy’s thick brown hair. “The twins are more likely to room with Alice Ann, but it’s whatever your dat and your new mamm decide. There’ll be a lot of changes after they get married, but you’ll help them out just like you’re helping me, ain’t so?”

  Simon looked around to be sure no one else was listening. “Does that mean Wags won’t get to sleep with me no more?” he whispered near James’s ear. “He’s not s’posed to be there, ya know, but I let him in at night so he don’t get lonely. You won’t tell nobody, will ya?”

  “Cross my heart,” James replied as he drew an X on his chest with a fingertip. “Now where’s this other wheel go? We’ll be finished here before two shakes of your best friend’s tail.”

  “And then we can have one of Abby’s whoopie pies?”

  “Sounds like the perfect pay for a job well done,” James replied.

  About ten minutes later, James had replaced the wheel on one of the smaller buggies. As he and Simon reached the shed’s doorway again, the boy let out a whoop and raced toward the porch. Vera and Abby had settled on the swing to enjoy the last rays of afternoon sunshine, with Alice Ann on Abby’s lap, but they were ready for Simon: as soon as he stopped and asked politely, his older sister offered him the pan of treats.

  Again Simon’s excitement touched James. The boy spun in circles in the yard as he ate, barely keeping his treat away from his eager dog. When James focused on Abby, however, his heart stilled.

  It was rare to see her sitting, for she usually bustled about helping with whatever tasks needed doing. Such a pleasure it was, to watch Abby cuddle a little girl on her lap, sharing her shawl. As the swing went forward and back in a lazy rhythm, the two women talked. Abby was focused on Alice Ann, smoothing the blond wisps that had escaped her braids.

  She’ll look this beautiful holding your children, too.

  James inhaled deeply, watching from a distance until Abby caught his eye and waved. He really, really needed to ask this woman for her hand. Soon.

  Chapter Four

  The following Thursday, Abby felt so giddy she could have skipped across the road to her mamm’s greenhouse like a schoolgirl. What a wonderful wedding she’d witnessed! Her nephew, Matt Lambright, had just married Rosemary Yutzy in a traditional yet touching Old Order service. Rosemary had radiated with love as she repeated her vows, completing her transformation from being a young widow to becoming Matt’s bride. Her toddler, Katie, hadn’t made a peep, sitting in her mammi’s lap, and Sam had preached his first sermon so well that the guests were now clapping him on the back as heartily as they were congratulating the newlyweds.

  As one of Rosemary’s sidesitters, Abby had been seated on the front row of the women’s side—directly across from James, who had served in the same capacity for Matt. James’s flirtatious gazes had distracted her often, making her believe that soon she would be a bride, at long last. As much as she loved weddings, however, Abby was eager to help Mamm and Sam’s wife, Barbara, with the feast and to visit with friends and family for the rest of the day.

  And what a fine September day it was for these festivities! The pasture, dotted with Matt’s sheep, shone a radiant green in the sunlight. The sumac bushes blushed with their first hint of autumn color. The garden alongside Sam’s white farmhouse still had some ripe tomatoes on the vines and several acorn and butternut squash were nearly ready to pick. The glass walls of her mother’s greenhouse sparkled from their recent cleaning. When Abby stepped inside, the aroma of the traditional “roast,” made with chicken and stuffing, filled her soul.

  The long white-draped tables looked dreamlike, set off by small potted mums and plants from her mamm’s store. On the eck—the raised corner table where the wedding party would be seated—a white tiered cake gave the entire room a festive air. Because Treva’s Greenhouse had no cooking facilities, they were blessed that neighbor ladies had prepared a lot of the wedding feast in Beulah Mae Nissley’s café, while Lois Yutzy and others had baked the pies and bread in her bakery.

  Abby’s sister-in-law, Barbara, her mamm, Treva, and other women were setting the catering pans on the serving table, but when Abby saw Emma Graber cutting pies, she hurried over to help. “We have quite a variety here,” she said as she picked up a clean knife.

  “Jah, I’ve seen peach and rhubarb and apple, along with cherry and blackberry,” Emma replied as she slipped cut pieces onto serving plates. “With Beth Ann Yutzy and Ruthie setting them on the tables, it’s all I can do to keep up!”

  Abby laughed. “Those two remind me of us when we were that age, Emma. Never able to sit still—”

  “Always together, laughing and chattering, too.” Emma emptied another pie pan, her expression more serious. “It was so gut to see you and my brother sitting up front for the wedding. Nice of Matt to ask his aunt and his best friend to witness for him.”

  “Well, since Matt has no brothers—” When Abby noticed Emma’s quivering chin, she slipped her arm around her best friend’s shoulders. “I’m sorry, Emma. It’s probably been a tough day, watching Matt marry somebody else after all the years you had your heart set on him,” she murmured.

  “Jah, well . . . I thought I’d gotten over it. Rosemary’s a gut match for him, and he’s crazy about her little Katie.”

  “God’s got somebody special in mind for you. I believe that with all my heart,” Abby insisted. “But the waiting’s never easy when we can’t see into the future like He does.”

  Emma sighed. “You’re probably right. And now’s not the time to be sniffling. Folks will pester me about being down in the dumps while everyone else is celebrating.”

  “Better to put on a smile,” Abby agreed. “Maybe as the day goes along, you’ll feel better. No doubt the food’s going to be gut! And there’ll be singing later, and out-of-town folks we don’t often get to visit with.”

  “And if I keep myself too busy to fret about being the only gal hereabouts without a beau, the time’ll go faster.”

  As Abby ran her knife through a few more pies, she realized that today’s groom wasn’t the only source of her friend’s heartache. Emma was also feeling left out because James was with Abby every chance he got—and even the best of friendships changed when one girl was courting and the other wasn’t. Not that long ago Abby had agonized as other girls in her buddy bunch got hitched, and she’d been thankful to have Emma as a steadfast—and single—friend. Abby had gotten past that disappointment, though, when she’d started her Stitch in Time business and built her own home.

  As her niece Ruthie raced Beth Ann Yutzy to their cutting table, however, it was impossible to remain downhearted. “I’m gonna finish my side of the table before you do!” Ruthie challenged as she picked up a tray filled with sliced pie.

  “Puh! I might just eat some pieces from your side so you’ll have to put more out,” Beth Ann countered.

  “Jah, I’m ready for dinner, too,” Abby chimed in as she cut another pie. “It’s a gut thing folks are crossing the lane to take their places for the first sitting.”

  “And once Rosemary and Matt get here, you and James will be sitting up front where all of us can watch how moony-eyed you get,” Ruthie teased.

  As the two girls hurried to set out more pie, Abby wondered about that. Were she and James really moony-eyed? Were they too affectionate in public? Or was her youngest niece playing things up?

  A little while later, as Abby savored her plateful of chicken roa
st, creamed celery, mashed potatoes, green beans, and several kinds of salads, she shared an occasional glance with James while making sure to sit so they weren’t touching. Neither of them had ever been seated on the eck as a member of a wedding party, and it seemed a lot like being on a stage.

  “Feels kind of funny eating with an audience, ain’t so?” he murmured.

  “We can hope everyone’s watching Rosemary and Matt—especially with little Katie sitting between them as though she’s the reason for all this celebrating.”

  James glanced toward the center of the table and chuckled: Katie had sprung up with her fork in one hand and her spoon in the other, as though she was about to lead everyone in singing. “It is her celebration, when you think about it. It’s not every day a girl gets a new dat, and another family to go with him,” he said in a thoughtful tone. “That’s a gift she’ll appreciate more as she grows up, I’m thinking.”

  “It makes me grateful that Dat lived to see me grown up . . . helped me build my house a couple years ago,” Abby replied quietly. “I feel him with us in spirit today, sharing our happiness for Matt.”

  “I miss your father.” James looked deeply into Abby’s eyes. “While my dat and I are close, and he’s ecstatic that I’m courting you, I looked up to Leroy Lambright as a fellow I wanted to be just like when I grew up.”

  Abby gripped her napkin, caught up in a poignant moment . . . and in this handsome man’s undeniable admiration. “That’s a fine tribute to him, James,” she whispered. “Your dat has always been one of my favorite fellows, too. He seems especially dear now that his memory’s not so gut.”

  James flashed her a grateful smile. “With Dat, every day’s a new day because he’s forgotten things he messed up—along with the sharp remarks Mamm probably made about it. Not a bad way to live, really. Forgiving comes easier when you’ve already forgotten what the problem was.”

  And wasn’t that an interesting insight? “I think you just gave me the idea for a Budget column,” Abby murmured. She glanced at the long, crowded table in front of them and forked up another bite of her potatoes. “My word, most folks are already eating their pie! I’ll need to help clear the tables soon.”