An Amish Harvest

by Patricia Davids

  “I’ve got something for you to drink before we get started. It’s warm ginger tea. It should be cool enough to sip through a straw. Open.”

  He pulled his head back. “Why?”

  “It will settle your stomach.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with my stomach.”

  “Please, it will keep you from getting sick on the ride.”

  “I won’t get sick, and I don’t want your tea.”

  “Oh, very well. Here is your hat.” She slapped it on his head.

  He tried to adjust it, but his bandaged hands were too clumsy. “It’s not straight.”

  She pushed up, pulled down and twisted it back and forth. “Now is it straight?”

  “I doubt it, but I reckon it will have to do.” He couldn’t accomplish the simplest task by himself. Depending on her was galling.

  She led the way outside. A fresh breeze was blowing. He could smell the scent of newly cut corn and hear the sounds of the grain binder in the distance. His brothers must be working in the cornfield along the river. He should be there to oversee the work. Luke didn’t care how things got done, and Noah spent as much time trying to get out of work as he did working. Timothy could do the job, but he was slow and methodical. “What’s the forecast for the next three days?”

  “The newspaper said sunny and warm today with a chance of rain in the late afternoon.”

  “How much of the field do they have cut already?”

  “I can’t be sure. It looks like about a quarter of it.”

  “They’d better step it up or they won’t get finished before it rains.”

  “I’m sure they know that. Here is the buggy. Do you want to drive or shall I?”

  Did she have to make a joke of everything? “Very funny. You’re always laughing at me.”

  “Nee, Samuel. I’m simply trying to lighten your mood.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with my mood.”

  “From where I’m standing, there is.”

  “Feel free to go home.”

  “That’s a good idea. I’m sure your father won’t mind if I borrow his buggy. Have a nice day, Samuel. The house is behind you. I’m sure you can find your way back.”

  “You won’t leave me here alone without anyone to look after me.” Sweat broke out on his brow at the thought.

  “Wouldn’t I? It wouldn’t be any harder than pouring water on your sheets.”

  She was a heartless woman. “All right.”

  “All right, what?”

  “I believe you. You’re just nuts enough to do it. Lead me to the buggy.”

  “You should stop insulting me. I’m here to help. You should be thanking me for taking you to the doctor.”

  Samuel pressed his lips tightly together. When she didn’t lead him forward, he knew what she was waiting for. He loosened his lips enough to mutter, “I’m grateful for your help, Rebecca.”

  “There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Her chipper tone rubbed him the wrong way, but he refrained from commenting. At this rate, they would never reach the doctor’s office.

  And maybe that wasn’t a bad thing. Would the doctor tell him today he would be permanently blind? If he didn’t go, he could hold on to the slender hope that he might see again one day. If the doctor told him there was no hope, what would he do? Pray for a miracle? Accept his fate as God’s will?

  No matter what he was told, he knew the dressing changes would be unbearably painful. He had experienced them three times a day when he was in the hospital and each time was as painful as the last. Knowing he would only have to endure them twice a week was the best part of getting out of the hospital.

  “The buggy is in front of you. Raise your foot and feel for the floorboard.” Rebecca took his arm. In spite of the way she irritated him, there was something comforting in her touch. Her hands were small and soft. A tingle of awareness lingered on his skin where her fingers gripped him. He tried to ignore the sensation as he climbed in, being careful not to jar his hands. When he was settled, she produced a pillow for him to rest them on.

  He felt the dip of the buggy as she climbed in. “Are you okay?”

  “Peachy.”

  She clicked her tongue to get the horse moving. “If you start to feel ill, let me know and I will stop.”

  “I’ll be fine. Just get me there.”

  The heavy odor of charred wood hung in the air, and he knew they passed the wood shop on their way to the end of the lane. The burned remains of his father’s business were one thing he was glad he couldn’t see.

  If only he hadn’t been in such a rush that day. If only he’d taken the time to let the machine cool down. If only he hadn’t convinced his father to invest the last of the family’s savings in the venture. They were on the brink of ruin and all because of him. When the harvest was done, his brothers would have to look for work elsewhere.

  All Samuel had ever wanted in life was to keep the family together. Instead, he would be responsible for sending them away.

  Rebecca turned out onto the highway and before long he could tell they had entered the covered bridge over the river. The sounds of the horse’s hooves echoed inside the massive timbered structure that had been built at the turn of the century. It was two lanes wide and spanned the river above the place where his ancestors had run a ferry service that had given the community the name of Bowmans Crossing. A covered pedestrian walkway had been added to the west side of the bridge when he was a child after a car struck and killed two of his classmates on their way to school. It was one of the few covered bridges with a walkway for those on foot, and his father had been instrumental in getting the community to add it.

  Someone called a cheerful greeting, and Rebecca answered.

  “Who was that?” he asked.

  “The bishop’s wife. How are you doing?”

  “I said I’ll be fine. Stop fussing.”

  “As you wish.” Her smug tone made him determined to enjoy the trip.

  Within ten minutes, he realized he wasn’t going to be fine. The trip to the physician’s office would take a little over an hour depending on which horse was in harness. If it was Noah’s high-stepping Standardbred mare, they could make the trip in forty minutes. If it was his father’s slow and steady horse, it could take well over an hour. To him, it seemed as if they were crawling along. Rebecca was good enough to warn him when the occasional car approached. The sound of them rushing past was less unnerving if he knew they were coming.

  The carriage rocked and swayed as they traveled along the highway. Unable to see, he had nothing to distract him as a queasy sensation began to build in his midsection. He started taking deep breaths.

  Rebecca pulled the buggy to a stop. “Would you like some of that tea now?”

  He nodded. “I think I would.”

  She produced it in an amazingly short amount of time. He took a sip from the straw she held, and his stomach immediately felt better. He finished the drink. “I should have listened to you.”

  “Did I just hear you right?” The undercurrent of laughter in her voice drew a smile from him.

  “When I’m wrong, I admit it.”

  “As we all should. I have a few gingersnap cookies if you would like them.”

  “I think I’ll be fine, now. Save them for the trip home. How much longer?”

  “A few more miles. Are you up to it? We can wait as long as you need.”

  “I’m ready.

  He heard the slap of the reins against the horse’s rump and the buggy jerked forward. He tried to concentrate on anything other than his stomach. “Which horse are you driving?”

  “A brown fellow with a white star on his forehead. No one told me his name.”

  “Father’s horse, Gunther. He’s not very fast, but he’s got stamina.”
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  “Noah offered to let me use his horse, but she looked like a handful.”

  “She is. My little brother likes the flashy spirited ones.”

  “Most boys his age do. Is he courting someone?”

  “I don’t think so. Why?”

  “I saw him talking to a young woman this morning out by the road.”

  “A redhead?”

  “She had auburn hair.”

  “That’s just Fannie Erb. She’s the daughter of a neighbor. She and Noah have been friends for years. They’re both nuts for horses. Her father raises them.”

  “Is that what Noah wants to do? Raise horses?”

  Samuel’s queasiness continued to subside. “He wants to drive fast horses and make a fool of himself.”

  “He strikes me as a serious young fellow.”

  “Noah? Serious? You’ve mistaken him for someone else.”

  “You, perhaps. You’re the serious one among the boys.”

  Was she able to gauge that from her limited contact with him or had she been talking to someone else about him. “I’m the one who sees that things get done.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

  “Too bad not everyone feels that way.”

  “Who feels differently?”

  “Luke for one.” Samuel normally didn’t care to discuss his differences with his brothers, but talking to Rebecca was better than concentrating on his unsettled stomach.

  “Luke respects you.”

  “You’re confusing him with someone else now. Luke doesn’t respect anyone.”

  “You’re his big brother. He looks up to you. Before you say anything, I can assure you I’ve seen the way he longs for your approval.”

  “My approval? You’re mistaken.”

  “I’m not. A word of praise from you would go a long way in helping Luke deal with his troubles. When a person doesn’t feel appreciated or respected by the family, they can lose their sense of belonging and start looking for other ways to fill that void.”

  Was she right? Maybe he hadn’t given Luke enough credit for the difficulties he had overcome.

  “Oh, no.”

  The dismay in her voice caught him by surprise. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” Her quick reply didn’t ring true. Why was she upset? She slowed the buggy and stopped. He heard the sound of another buggy pull alongside.

  Chapter Five

  “Guder mariye, Rebecca.”

  Samuel tried to place the jovial man’s voice. Who was he?

  “Good morning, John.” Rebecca’s reply was anything but lighthearted. It was more like long-suffering, but at least Samuel realized who the other person was. It was John Miller, her late husband’s brother.

  “Good day, Samuel Bowman!” John shouted.

  Why was he yelling? “Guder mariye, John.”

  “I was sorry to hear about your injury!”

  “I’m blind, not deaf, John. I can hear you just fine.”

  “Oh. Right. How are you?” John’s embarrassed tone said he got the point.

  “Fine. And you?”

  “As right as rain. I’m glad I ran into you, Rebecca. Your mother and I miss seeing you.”

  “Nonsense. I haven’t been gone that long. You can hardly miss someone who has only been gone a day.”

  Something in Rebecca’s voice surprised Samuel. He leaned back slightly. Was she flustered by this chance meeting with her brother-in-law? It sure sounded that way. What did that mean? Had there been bad blood between the brothers? Samuel didn’t recall anyone mentioning it. John was a widower. Could it be that he was courting Rebecca? If that was the case, why was she so reluctant to return to her own home? Was it because she truly wanted to help Samuel and his family or was there another reason?

  “I don’t think there’s a restriction on missing someone whose company you enjoy.” John sounded disappointed with her response.

  “I agree,” Samuel added. “I have known my mamm to say she sometimes misses my daed the moment he walks out the door.”

  “Your parents have been married a long time,” she said with an edge in her tone. She wasn’t happy with his interference.

  Good. Let her be the one to be annoyed for a change. “I don’t think it has to do with time. I think it has to do with how much they enjoy each other’s company.”

  “That’s exactly what I was saying. I enjoy your company, Rebecca,” John added happily.

  “And I’m sure she enjoys your company, John. Don’t you, Rebecca?” Samuel said.

  “Of course I do. My husband’s brother is always welcome in my home. However, I have a job to do, and that job is to get you to your doctor on time, Samuel. Please, excuse us, John. We need to get going.”

  “Surely a minute or two won’t make a difference. Besides, I was to pass on a message from your mother if I saw you.”

  John was determined to spend a few more minutes in her company. Samuel caught the edge of desperation in his voice and wondered at it.

  “And what is the message?” Rebecca asked with reluctance.

  Samuel grew more amused by the minute. The woman who had an answer for everything seemed to be struggling today. There was something simmering beneath the surface between John and Rebecca, but he couldn’t figure out what it was.

  John said, “Your mother wants to know if you are coming home on Sunday. She thought we could all go to the preaching together.”

  “I can’t,” Rebecca said quickly.

  Too quickly. Samuel smothered a smile. “You don’t need to stay with me. I’m sure my family can look after me for one day. You should go home on Sundays.”

  “Your father and I didn’t agree to that.” Her terse tone told him to mind his own business, but this was too much fun.

  “John, I can assure you that my father will give Rebecca the time off.”

  “Goot! It’s settled. I will pick you and your mother up at seven Sunday morning. Good day to you, Samuel. I pray God heals you quickly.”

  Samuel heard the sound of John’s buggy moving away. “Nice fellow.”

  “Ja.” She slapped the reins against the horse and the buggy jolted ahead.

  Her clipped tone implied she was done with the subject, but he wasn’t. He sensed that John was somehow a raw nerve for Rebecca. He wished he could see her face. Unable to resist needling her, he pressed ahead, “He’s been a widower for a while now, hasn’t he?”

  “Ja.”

  “A man can get lonely after a time. Maybe he’s looking to marry again.”

  “You would have to ask him about that.”

  “He was recently chosen to be a minister in the church. He could be a deacon or even a bishop one day.”

  “I reckon that’s true. If God wills it.”

  “He’s a farrier. That’s a goot job with a steady income. He could support a family easy enough.”

  “You sound like you’ve been talking to my mother.”

  So the subject had come up at home. Samuel chuckled. “It’s hard to be on the receiving end, isn’t it?”

  “I don’t know what you mean,” she answered primly.

  “Ja, you do. I’m going to take a stab in the dark here and say that your mother thinks John would make a good husband for you.”

  “Poke fun all you like. You won’t get a rise out of me.”

  “I’m not looking to get a rise out of you, but meeting John has put me in mind of some work he can do for us. Be sure to tell him that on Sunday. He’s welcome to come by any day he is free.”

  “You don’t have work for him.”

  “But we do. Timothy was saying just the other day that the ponies need new shoes. Noah normally does the shoeing, but we could have John do it since my broth
ers are all busy. I’ll let Daed know. Mamm might ask John to supper afterward.”

  “Don’t invite him on my account.”

  “Why not? Do you have something against the man?”

  She was silent for so long that Samuel thought he’d pushed his teasing too far. Then she said, “I don’t have anything against John. He’s a fine man. He was a great help to my husband and me when Walter was sick. John has helped when I needed repairs to the house, and he does little things for my mother. I’m grateful for his kindness.”

  “But what?” He sensed there was more to her meaning than she was saying.

  “But nothing. He’s a fine man. We are almost to town. I can’t remember if the doctor’s office is right or left at the traffic light.”

  “Left.” Samuel decided to let her drop the subject of her brother-in-law, but that didn’t keep him from wondering about the relationship between them. He wished he could see her face. He had always considered himself good at reading people. If a man’s words were jovial but his smile wasn’t reflected in his eyes, Samuel knew the fellow was putting on a front.

  He was handicapped in more ways than one when it came to understanding Rebecca. Was it shyness that caused the tension in her voice when she spoke to John? Did she dislike the man for some reason? Or was she playing it cool, hoping her feigned disinterest would capture John’s attention?

  Samuel had a hard time believing Rebecca could be coy, but no man understood the workings of a woman’s mind. Besides, when the heart ruled, good sense often went out the window. He’d seen that often enough with his friends. He intended to avoid the pitfalls of romance himself. The family needed him to manage the woodworking business and expand it. He couldn’t be distracted by marriage and a family. Not now. Not until he had the family business up and running again. If he couldn’t see or if his hands didn’t heal properly, that would never happen. He would become a burden on his family and that was the last thing he wanted.

  He had to get better. He would promise God anything if only the Lord would heal him. Imagining a lifetime of darkness sent chills down his spine. He couldn’t live that way.

  “We’re here.”

  He had been so engrossed in his fear that he hadn’t realized the buggy had stopped. Now he was about to face that fear head-on. He dreaded hearing the doctor’s words. He dreaded the pain. “Why don’t you take me home, instead?”