An Amish Harvest

by Patricia Davids

  Their aunt’s dried apple pie was one of Noah’s favorite treats. Samuel smiled. “You can have it.”

  “Danki. What were you and Rebecca talking about?”

  “Nothing special. She just stopped by to give this milk shake.”

  “That was kind of her. I’m glad the two of you are getting along so well.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “Just that you didn’t seem to like her when she first came, and now you do.”

  He did like her. More than he wanted to. “She’s bossy. I don’t care for bossy women. They should be humble and quiet-spoken.”

  Noah chuckled. “Like Mamm?”

  “Point taken. Mamm might be opinionated at home, but she is always demure in public.”

  “So is Rebecca.”

  “I guess I never noticed.”

  The sound of running feet approached and thudded to a stop in front of them. “We’re getting up a game of volleyball, Noah. Want to join us? I picked you for my team already.” The breathless female voice belonged to their neighbor’s daughter Fanny.

  “I can’t today.”

  Samuel took a sip of his drink to keep from laughing. Noah couldn’t have sounded more disappointed if he tried.

  “Oh. Okay. I’ll see you later. Are you staying for the singing tonight?”

  “I don’t know if I can. It all depends.”

  “Sarah Hochstetler is going to be there tonight. She turned sixteen last week and this will be her first one. She has her eye on you, but some fella might steal her away if you don’t make a move soon,” Fanny teased.

  “She does?”

  “She’s on my volleyball team. You could make a good impression if you came and played with us.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I have to stay here.”

  “All right. It was good to see you, Samuel. I hope you get better soon.”

  “Danki, Fanny.” Samuel heard the sound of her running away. Fanny seldom moved at half speed.

  Noah sighed, and Samuel took pity on his brother. “You don’t need to babysit me. Go have fun with your friends.”

  “Are you sure? Mamm said I was to stay here and watch out for you.”

  “I’m sure. Go on. Impress Sarah Hochstetler with your skill and charm.” Was his baby brother old enough to be chasing after a young maedel? It didn’t seem possible.

  “You’re the best.” Noah took off as if he was afraid Samuel would change his mind. Or maybe he was afraid their mother would catch wind of his desertion.

  Samuel sat back and waited for Rebecca. Was she watching?

  * * *

  Rebecca couldn’t believe it when she saw Noah take off after Fanny Erb, leaving Samuel all alone. She waited a full minute until she realized Noah had joined the volleyball game getting underway. He had no intention of keeping an eye on Samuel. She turned to her mother. “Excuse me. I must see if Samuel needs anything.”

  “Dear, you aren’t working today. Let his family look after him.”

  “I’m not doing it because it’s my job. I’m doing it out of Christian charity.” She knew her mother couldn’t argue against that.

  She crossed the strip of lawn just as a pair of rowdy boys chasing each other around the house barreled into Samuel.

  The two young boys apologized profusely and then took off. Samuel had one bandaged hand pressed to the side of his face. She rushed forward. “Samuel, are you hurt?”

  “I don’t think so. I wasn’t expecting to be blindsided. Who were they?”

  She sat down beside him in relief. “Fanny Erb’s two youngest brothers.”

  “The whole family runs faster than the horses they raise.”

  She chuckled. “I think the horses have more sense. Are you sure you aren’t hurt?”

  “Is there any blood?”

  She examined him closely. “Nee.”

  “Then I’m fine except for a few new bruises.”

  She heard the door of the house open and saw his father come out followed by the bishop. “Your father and the bishop are coming this way.”

  “Samuel, it is good to see you are well enough to attend the services,” the bishop said. Rebecca rose and stepped a few feet away, making room for the men to sit down beside Samuel on the steps.

  “God was merciful to me. My eyes are closed, but he left my ears open so that I might hear your good preaching.”

  Did she detect a note of sarcasm? Was he still angry at God? None of the others seemed to notice.

  Isaac wrapped his hands around his knee. “The bishop and I have decided on a day for the workshop raising. Everyone should be done with the harvest by next church day. We will hold it the following Thursday.”

  “That should give everyone enough time to finish their own work,” the bishop said. “Is that agreeable to you?”

  “If it is okay with my father, it’s fine with me.” Samuel’s lips flattened as a muscle twitched in his jaw.

  “Goot. We will have your wood shop open again in no time.” The bishop patted Samuel’s knee and rose to his feet. “Isaac, will you join me for a game of quoits?”

  “I was thinking you might want to play someone who doesn’t beat you so badly,” Isaac said with a twinkle in his eye.

  The bishop straightened and fisted his hands on his hips. “There’s a challenge I can’t refuse. Get ready to eat those words.”

  The two men walked away, and Rebecca sat down beside Samuel again. “You must have faith that you’ll be able to return to the work you love. All things are possible with God.”

  “That’s the day the dealer from Cincinnati was to come and look at my work. All he would find now is a pile of ashes.”

  “When your eyes and hands have healed you will show him your best work.”

  “If I worked for six months, I wouldn’t be able to build all the furniture that was lost in the fire. Without money to buy new lumber and new machinery, I couldn’t do it, anyway. Besides, when Timothy spoke to Mr. Clark on the phone after the fire, the man mentioned he had other woodworkers he intended to visit that week. He will place his contracts elsewhere. He has a business to run.”

  “Then you will find another dealer who will buy your furniture at a fair price, and you will not need Mr. Clark’s money. When God closes a door, He opens a window.”

  “And sometimes He’s telling us we can’t have what we want,” he said bitterly.

  “Sometimes, He asks us to pay attention to His plan and not our own,” she added softly.

  “If His plan is to scatter my brothers by sending them elsewhere to find work, then I don’t think much of it. I have to accept that my risk resulted in failure. Would you get Luke or Timothy for me? I’d like to go home now.”

  He stood and moved back to lean against the house with his arms folded protectively across his chest. She had little choice but to do as he asked. She found his brothers by the barn talking with a group of young men their age. A few of them had short beards indicating they were recently married. Most, like the Bowman brothers were clean-shaven. She paused beside them. “Samuel would like to go home now. Could one of you arrange to take him?”

  A young man beside Luke spoke up. “I brought my open buggy today. I can take him.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Luke said. “He can’t be left alone for long.”

  “Danki.” Rebecca smiled at the group. As they left to hitch up the buggy, she started back toward the house.

  Timothy followed her. “Is Samuel feeling poorly?”

  She stopped walking. “Your father and the bishop chose the day for the wood shop raising. It will be on the same day Samuel had planned for Mr. Clark to visit.”

  “And it reminded him he has nothing left to show for all his months of hard work.” Timothy’s eyes filled w
ith understanding as he gazed toward Samuel standing alone.

  “It was your work that went up in smoke, too.” She didn’t sense any bitterness in Timothy. Was it only Samuel who struggled to come to grips with the loss?

  “My brother believes he’s the only one who can hold the family together. He doesn’t realize each of us must make that decision for ourselves.”

  “Would his plan have worked if not for the fire?”

  “Probably. Samuel is a fine craftsman, but he can’t run a big business alone. Until he accepts that, he’s going to drive us away even if there is work to keep us here.”

  She thought of her beautiful table at home and the lovely Bible cabinet where her great-great-grandfather’s Bible was displayed. There were examples of the Bowman’s fine craftsmanship all across the county. It was a shame the Cincinnati dealer couldn’t see them.

  A sudden thought occurred to her. Why couldn’t he see them? “Timothy, would you stay if the workshop reopened?”

  “If I could earn enough to support a family, ja.”

  She looked over the community gathered in groups, chatting and enjoying their day of rest amid the stunning fall colors of the hills around them. She smiled and rubbed her chin. “Timothy, I have an idea.”

  “Okay, do I get to hear it?”

  Luke was leading Samuel toward his friend’s waiting buggy. “Let’s share it with Samuel and Luke. It will take everyone’s cooperation.”

  She reached Samuel’s side just as he climbed in and sat down. She grabbed the door before Luke could close it. “Samuel, I have an idea how we can show your furniture dealer the kind of work you can do.”

  “Rebecca, stop. That dream is over. It’s gone. I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Luke, get me home.”

  She touched his arm. “But you haven’t heard what I have to say.”

  He pulled away. “Don’t you know when to stop talking? It’s over. What are you waiting for, Luke? Take me home!”

  Defeated, she stepped back and allowed the carriage to roll away. He wouldn’t even listen to her.

  Chapter Eight

  Samuel regretted his rudeness to Rebecca before he had gone half a mile. His failure was no fault of hers. She deserved to be treated with respect.

  The following morning, his brothers and his father had all gone out to the fields before she arrived. He was seated at the kitchen table listening with half an ear as his mother read the morning paper to him.

  “Good morning, Anna. Samuel.” The flat way she said his name was his first clue that he was still in trouble.

  His mother turned the page of the newspaper. “Hello, Rebecca. Would you finish reading to Samuel while I start my laundry?”

  “I’ll do the laundry. You keep reading, Anna.” He heard the door to the basement bang shut. Was she avoiding him?

  After his mother finished the paper, Samuel fumbled his way to the washroom downstairs. “Rebecca, may I talk to you?”

  “I’m busy.” She brushed past him and dashed up the stairs.

  He found out it was easy for her to play hide-and-seek with a blind man. After following her several places only to be left standing alone, he gave in.

  “I’ll be going to my room now,” he announced in the kitchen. He wasn’t sure anyone heard him until his mother replied.

  “That’s fine.”

  He left the room feeling like a fool. How hard was it to apologize to one woman? And why was he trying so hard?

  He settled in upstairs, but couldn’t find a comfortable spot in bed. He wasn’t tired. He was bored and he was getting angry. Rebecca had been hired to take care of him, not avoid him.

  Time dragged by. Being idle chafed. His entire life had been taken up with work, with doing more and doing it better so that the family could reap the benefits of his labors. It felt as if it had all been for nothing.

  Rising, he paced the small confines of his room for a while, and then fell back into bed with his arm over his face.

  Sometime later, Rebecca spoke from his doorway. “Your mother has asked that I take the lunches out to the men. I thought you might like to walk along with me. It’s a crisp morning.”

  So she was finally speaking to him. “Why not? There’s certainly nothing to do in here.”

  She led the way outdoors. She waited until he made it down the porch steps. “Your mother told me they were cutting corn by the old railroad. I’m not familiar with where that is.”

  Her cool tone said more than her words. She was still upset. Their merry chase had erased his desire to apologize. He could be cool, too. “The old section of railroad tracks runs along the river behind the barn. I can hear the corn binder from here.”

  “Then your hearing is better than mine. Will you be comfortable walking with your hand on my shoulder? I’m afraid I need both my hands to carry these lunch pails.”

  He couldn’t maintain this indifference if he was touching her. “Maybe I should stay here.”

  “Now that you’ve made an effort to get outside, I think you should enjoy a little of this glorious weather.” Her softened tone held a hint of an overture.

  He really didn’t want to go back in the house.

  “I know it’s frightening to think of walking so far. I promise to go slow so you won’t trip over anything, but I would like to deliver these meals before they get cold.”

  The corner of his mouth ticked up. “I’m not frightened. I trust you.”

  He did. Implicitly.

  She placed his hand on her shoulder. “I’d be scared if I were in your shoes. Then again, if I were in your shoes I would be tripping over everything because they would be miles too big for me.”

  “Do you make a joke out of everything?”

  “Not everything. It’s just better to laugh than it is to cry.”

  They walked in silence for a while. He had to adjust his stride to her short steps, but they soon reached the cornfield where his family was working. He didn’t need his eyes to tell him what was going on. It was a task he had helped with since he was a child.

  His father would be driving the corn binder. A small gasoline-powered engine mounted on the side of the cutter operated the blades while a team of horses pulled the machine along as it sliced the cornstalks off at the base. A special belt lifted bundles of stalks up to a second flatbed wagon. One of his brothers would be driving a team alongside the cutter while the other brother had the dirty job of gathering the cornstalks and piling them at the back of the wagon. Many an argument had been started about who got to drive and whose turn it was to catch.

  When the catch wagon was overflowing with cornstalks, the driver would turn the team away and head for the silo. A second wagon would move up and take its place. Only one person was needed to drive the loaded wagon back to the silo, so one of the brothers would hop off and race to jump on the new wagon. Once there, he took over the reins or began catching. The process would be repeated flawlessly each time the wagon was full. The corn cutter never had to stop as long as the wagons were emptied and returned in a timely fashion.

  Rebecca came to a halt. “I think the corn stubble is too rough for you to walk through. I’ll have you stay here.”

  “Not a problem.” He squatted on his heels to wait for her return. At least they were speaking to each other again.

  “Will your father stop for me?”

  Samuel nodded. “He’ll stop the corn binder for a brief lunch as long as the weather looks favorable. If there is a threat of rain, my daed will eat standing up and driving the team until he gets his crop in or it’s too dark to see.”

  “My father used to say rain is the friend of the plants and the enemy of the harvest.”

  “It’s true. If the corn stored in the silos is too damp, it will mold and rot. The moisture content of the plants has to
be just right to maximize the nutrition the cows will get from their feed over the long cold winter months.”

  “He’s waving for me to come out. I’ll be back as quick as I can.”

  “Rebecca, I’m sorry I was abrupt with you yesterday.” He waited tensely for her reply.

  “You are forgiven, Samuel. I can be pushy sometimes.”

  “I appreciate that you want to help, but I know what needs to be done. I’ll take care of it as soon as I’m healed.”

  “I know you will.”

  Her voice carried more confidence in him than he felt. She believed in him. Somehow, he would find a way to make things right.

  * * *

  Rebecca was pleased with Samuel’s steady improvement over the next few days. He rarely spent time in his room, preferring instead to be out of doors. Although the tasks he could perform were limited, he did manage to help his mother by waiting on customers at the gift shop. He even devised a way to sweep the floor by having Rebecca tie towels to his shoes so he could slide his feet across the wide planks while she dusted the shelves. He still refused to eat with the family. Timothy and his father were the only ones he allowed to help him with that since he still had to be fed.

  On Wednesday evening, she went home to do her own housekeeping. Bright and early the next morning, she returned to the Bowman farm. As her horse trotted through the covered bridge, a growing sense of joy enveloped her. She was happy to be a part of this family, even for a short time. Being with Samuel was the reason her spirits soared higher each day.

  Anna was busy in the kitchen washing glass canning jars and barely glanced Rebecca’s way when she came in. Samuel normally sat at the kitchen table this time of day while his mother read the morning paper to him, but he wasn’t around.

  “Guder mariye, Anna. Where is Samuel?”

  “He hasn’t come down.”

  That was odd. “What can I do to help this morning?”

  “I have a bucket of fresh dug potatoes on the back porch. If you would wash them and leave them to dry, that would be great. I’ll pack them into paper bags later and take them down to the store when I go.”