“Sam tells me the girls are getting rounder by the day, looking forward to June babies,” Amos recounted. “We’d best use this gut weather to our advantage so their double house and the nursery buildings will be completed before those wee ones arrive. Wouldn’t be surprised if we have another burst of winter weather before March is out.”
Monroe smiled. It was good to see Amos anticipating the arrival of his grown children and his grandchildren—and it was even better that he’d fully recovered from his fall so he could work on all the structures that would soon be built. Aromas of sugar and spices told him Noah’s wife, Deborah, had been busy baking. When she and Christine carried in a big urn of coffee between them and Mary Kate placed a platter of cookies on the sideboard with the coffee, he smiled and called the meeting to order.
“Gut morning to all of you,” Monroe said above the chatter. “Spring has sprung—and more importantly, the ladies have brought out our goodies. Help yourselves, have a seat, and we’ll chat about these building plans.”
After he’d put a few cookies on a plate and filled a mug with coffee, Monroe stood at one end of the table where the blueprints and illustrations were displayed. “I’m pleased our friend Truman can be here, and that he’s willing for his crew to excavate and help pour concrete for the foundations we’ll need.”
Truman set his mug on the table and stood near Monroe. “From what I’ve seen on the TV and online weather stations I follow, these last couple weeks of February look ideal for the excavating and concrete work you folks need,” he announced as he held up a sketch he’d done on poster board. “Considering the location the Helmuths have chosen for their nursery, I also suggest a new fork in the road you’re using now, which will go from the camp entry over to the nursery parking lot. This will allow shoppers from the nursery to come farther into Promise Lodge and see your other businesses. Here’s my sketch of the nursery location and the new road—as well as where the Helmuths’ home will be.”
As Monroe stepped closer to study Truman’s poster, he immediately sensed a ripple of doubt passing through the other men.
“It’s all well and gut to give folks more access to our businesses,” Marlin spoke up, “but that also means we’ll have a lot more cars driving through—”
“And if I’m seeing your new road correctly,” Amos chimed in, “it’ll pass through one of Mattie’s biggest produce plots.”
“Seems mighty close to the cabins and the lodge, too,” Eli Peterscheim pointed out. “I don’t believe Rosetta and the other ladies will appreciate the traffic noise—nor do I think the young Helmuths will want another road running so close to their home, because their property is on the county highway.”
“Christine’s cows won’t think much of traffic running near their barn, either,” Roman said. “And before we know it, David will be up and running—maybe right into that road, before we can catch him. Thanks for your thoughts, Truman, but I say our businesses—and our families—will be better off without that new road.”
Monroe squeezed Roman’s shoulder, proud of the young father for speaking up. Rather than appearing put out, Truman was chuckling as he set aside his poster.
“I had a feeling you’d see it that way,” he admitted as he picked up a different layout sketch. “One of my crew members thought it would be easy to blade off the roadway while we had the big equipment here—and it would. But I fully understand your reasons for wanting to maintain more privacy with less traffic, so we’ll skip the road idea.”
The men nodded among themselves and leaned closer to look at the other plan Truman was proposing for the Helmuth place. “Any way we can start preparing the new plots today?” Preacher Eli asked. “It’s a little muddy underfoot, but if we get the foundations staked out, you and your crew can dig them whenever you have the time.”
“I was hoping we could do that, jah,” Truman replied eagerly. “We’ll have to clear several big trees from the Helmuth land, so if the foundations are marked we’ll know which trees should go and which we can preserve.”
“Lester Lehman called last night,” Monroe put in. “Now that he’s sold the siding and window business in Sugarcreek, he plans to move his family here by the middle of March—just a few weeks from now. I’m hoping we can stake out the foundations for my house and barns today, too.”
“Sounds like you’ll be bunking in one of the cabins once Lester returns,” Preacher Marlin remarked. “My family was awfully glad to have those places to stay in while our homes were being built.”
“It’s a simple lifestyle,” his son Harley said with a laugh. “Minerva enjoyed it because she only had one room and the bathroom to clean—and we got to eat our meals with the ladies in the lodge.”
Truman smiled. “I have stakes and string in the back of my truck,” he said. “If you fellows all hop in the back, we’ll head up the hill and mark Monroe’s house and barns first. We’ll probably be done staking out the Helmuths’ four structures by noon, if we hustle.”
The men grabbed more cookies before heading to the front room to put on their coats. Monroe was placing their coffee mugs on the sideboard beside the nearly empty cookie tray when Christine came out of the kitchen.
“You fellows made short work of the cookies,” she said, reaching for the tray.
Monroe glanced toward the front room, where the other men were heading outside, and turned his broad back toward the kitchen. He lifted Christine’s chin with his finger. “Just another little taste of sugar,” he murmured before he kissed her. “I hope to have some time alone with you later this week. A little bird told me that Saturday’s your birthday.”
Her blush—and her response to a second kiss—gratified him. “I’d like that,” she murmured. “A lot.”
Monroe sighed. “Denki for helping with the refreshments over here, as I was concerned that Leola would cause a stir if we met in the lodge,” he said softly. “But I don’t intend to let her interfere with our lives . . . our courtship.”
“I like the sound of that,” Christine whispered. “Any word from her folks?”
Monroe shook his head. “Last I heard from Polly, Leola’s mamm has had some complications. She was in a rehab center, but had to go back to the hospital,” he replied.
“Sorry to hear that.” Her face, so composed and pretty, turned pink as she met his gaze with her deep green eyes. “I’ve missed you, Monroe,” she whispered. “I understand that you feel responsible for Leola, but I won’t wait forever.”
Something in his gut twisted at the finality of her statement. “I won’t keep you waiting, sweetheart. Let’s talk about it Saturday, all right?”
Her smile was the send-off he needed. Monroe grabbed his coat and hurried outside, where the other men waited in the back of Truman’s big white pickup.
“One last cookie, Bishop?” Harley teased.
“Something like that,” Monroe said as he clambered into the truck. As they rode up the hill to his property, his thoughts whirled. Should he propose to Christine on Saturday? If he didn’t, would she really drop him like a hot potato?
Or a cold one, more likely, he mused as they passed the two Lehman homes. Christine’s insistent response had taken him by surprise, yet she had reason to be frustrated with him. Keeping his distance from Leola and the lodge these past few weeks hadn’t made for a very fulfilling romance for either of them.
When the truck stopped at the crest of the hill, Monroe hopped down from the back along with the other men and grabbed some stakes and string. It felt like a positive step forward to be preparing his property for his three buildings, because it meant he would soon return to Macomb for his furniture and his Clydesdales.
Please, Lord, place Your healing hand on Edna Duff, he prayed. Leola needs her mamm and her meds even more than I need Christine. But Your will be done.
* * *
That afternoon Rosetta turned toward the mudroom door when somebody outside knocked. “Jah, who is it?” she called out. “I’m up to my elbows in soap—
”
“Engaged in clean living, eh? Maybe I can distract you for a bit, honey-girl.”
Rosetta’s heart thumped harder as Truman’s teasing remark gave her some hopeful ideas. The Kuhns, Phoebe, and Laura were in Christine’s apartment with Leola, sewing her some new dresses, and Maria was at her bakery in Cloverdale, so it was a rare time of solitude as she mixed up a batch of goat’s milk soap with citrus oils and cornmeal. “Come on in, Truman. It’s open.”
When he stepped inside and removed his muddy boots, Rosetta couldn’t help smiling. “Looks like you men were up to your ankles while you staked out those foundations,” she remarked. “Denki for not tracking that mud through the lobby.”
“I saw you through the window when I drove down the hill. It’s been way too long, Rosetta,” he said, wiggling his toes in his socks. “All work and no play is making Truman a dull boy. And lonely, too.”
Rosetta finished pouring wet soap into the section of plastic pipe she used as a mold. Truman’s smile made her heart flip-flop as he came to stand beside her. “You’ve been busy, then?” she asked. “What with spring coming, you’re probably looking toward landscaping jobs—”
“Looks like I’ll have so many jobs I may need to hire more help,” he said. “In the past couple of weeks I’ve been bidding on three new townhome complexes east of Forest Grove—and I got all of those jobs. We’ll be planting the bushes and trees, and laying sod around big three- and four-family buildings once their exteriors are finished.”
“Wow, congratulations! We’re lucky you’ll have time to dig foundations for Monroe and Amos’s kids.” Rosetta held her breath as Truman stepped close to her and slipped his arm around her waist. It seemed like a good time to forget about Maria . . .
“I also landed some decorative metalwork for Noah,” he continued in a low voice. “And now that I’ve figured up what tree removal and four foundations will cost the Helmuth twins, I’m going to call them with my price—and then order as many bushes and young trees as I can for those townhomes. I’m hoping Sam and Simon can bring that nursery stock with them when they come in March.”
“That should lower their bill by quite a bit, jah?”
Truman nuzzled her nose with his. “It will. But landscaping’s on my back burner right now, because the front burner’s going full blast,” he murmured, his breath tickling her cheek. “If I said you make me feel smokin’ hot, would you douse me with cold water?”
Rosetta’s eyes widened before he kissed her, which was good reason to close them again. She was still wearing rubber gloves with liquid soap smeared on them, still holding the length of plastic pipe, but she reveled in the feel of Truman’s lips pressing hers. “No,” she whispered when they came up for air.
Truman eased away, frowning. “That kiss didn’t feel like no to—”
“I won’t throw cold water on you,” Rosetta clarified with a giggle. She suddenly felt better than she had for weeks—since before Maria had shown up with her basket of goodies, asking to live at Promise Lodge. Rosetta stood on tiptoe to kiss Truman again.
“Ah. Language.” He rested his forehead against hers. “For a moment I forgot my own question. You do that to me, Rosetta,” he whispered. “I hope you don’t think I’ve forgotten you lately.”
Rosetta placed a plastic cap on the upper end of the pipe, her expression playful. “Well, it’s been different without you,” she said plaintively.
“You’ve been on my mind night and day,” he said, holding her gaze with his warm hazel eyes. “Let’s figure on going out Saturday night, jah? We can set our wedding date before my calendar fills up with landscaping work. Spring’s going to come early and fly by, I suspect.”
Rosetta’s heart pounded so loudly, she wondered if Truman could hear it. “That’s the best idea I’ve heard for a long while. I don’t even care where we go, long as I’m with you.”
“That’s what I like to hear, honey-girl.” Truman kissed her again and then eased away. “I’ll leave before I sling you over my shoulder and carry you up to your apartment.”
Rosetta laughed and set the pipe on her worktable so the soap would set up. As she washed the soap sludge from her gloves, she had never felt more in love with this dear, affectionate man. “We’d have some ladies peeking in at us as soon as you closed my door,” she said, “because they’re all on the other side of the wall, in Christine’s apartment, sewing dresses for Leola. Some are cutting the fabric, some are pinning pieces together, and Christine’s at her machine stitching them up.”
“Why am I not surprised they have such an organized system of sewing?” he asked as he walked back toward his muddy boots. “And why am I even less surprised that they’re doing Leola such a favor? You ladies have the biggest hearts I’ve ever seen—which is just one of the reasons I love being around you all . . . and why I’ve hitched my wagon to your star, Rosetta.”
She beamed at him, too overcome with emotion to say anything.
Truman pulled on his second boot and stood up straight, blowing her a kiss. “See you Saturday, sweet Rosetta.”
“Jah, you will,” she murmured. “I can’t wait.”
Chapter Twelve
As the week of warm weather went by, Christine and the other women watched in amazement as Truman’s men felled huge old trees and dug the foundation holes for the nursery buildings, a barn, and the double home where Bernice, Barbara, Sam, and Simon would start their families. On the three days it took to finish their work on the Helmuths’ property and at Monroe’s place, Truman and his men ate their noon meal in the lodge dining room—along with Monroe and Amos, who were keen to hear about their progress.
“I’m sure glad you fellows didn’t take down those evergreens and cedars alongside the road,” Christine remarked as she placed a platter of ham steaks on the table. “I think we’d feel really exposed if we could see the state highway—and the folks driving on it could see us.”
Truman smiled. “Those trees are still healthy—and a gut windbreak for you folks,” he said. “We only cleared away trees that were standing where the greenhouses, nursery plots, and the Helmuth house will be.”
After everyone was seated, they prayed silently for a moment.
“I think that intersection will be an ideal place for a nursery,” Monroe said as he spooned up a helping of hash brown casserole. “Folks driving along the highway and the county road will be able to see all the nursery plots and the greenhouse and pull in from either side.”
“And from there, they’ll also be able to see the rest of Promise Lodge,” Amos pointed out as he stabbed a ham steak. “I’m glad we agreed not to put an extra road through our property, but maybe we could post signs at the nursery directing folks to the produce stand, the cheese factory, and the new bakery—and even to Marlin’s barrel factory.”
“A slatted sign like the one Noah painted for the entry would work,” Mattie said as she passed a bowl of steaming green beans to Truman. “Maybe it could be one big sign with all of our shops listed, pointing down from the intersection.”
“This is really exciting,” Rosetta said as she smiled at Edgar, Truman, and the other workmen. “We’re so glad you fellows are here, accomplishing in days what it would take our men weeks to do with hand tools and horse-drawn equipment.”
“I’m pleased the Helmuths are starting up a nursery,” Truman remarked. “When I called Sam last night to tell him what sort of trees and bushes I’ll be wanting for our new townhome projects, he was delighted that he could barter his plants for most of the expense of our excavating and tree removal. And he’ll provide us with heat-resistant varieties that’ll grow well here in Missouri.”
Truman smiled at Preacher Amos. “I think your girls hitched up with some smart businessmen,” he said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they eventually latch on to some additional land for other nursery plots to keep up with the demand for their plants. They might also take over the orchard and sell the apples as a part of their business. That would be a good fi
t with your other enterprises.”
Amos chuckled. “I can recall when Allen made fun of Sam and Simon because of their fiery red hair, but he’s changed his tune—and he left me a phone message this morning to tell me he’s passed all of his licensing exams.”
Mattie clapped her hands. “I knew he could do it! So now he’s a certified plumber and electrician?”
Amos nodded proudly as he buttered a hot biscuit. “I called him back to congratulate him—and to encourage him to come soon so he can help with these new houses and buildings. He was a pretty fair carpenter even before he went to trade school.”
“The apple didn’t fall far from the tree, eh?” Truman teased. His eyebrows rose when he saw Ruby and Beulah carrying in casserole pans that filled the room with their sweet, fruity fragrance. “And if my nose is working right, I’m guessing we’ve got apple crisp for dessert.”
Beulah nodded as she set the big glass pan in front of him. “And peach cobbler, too. I know how you fellows like your sweets, and we’re happy to bake them for you. Folks who come to the new nursery—and Maria’s new bakery—will most likely visit our cheese factory.”
“And the nursery will be another great place for my bees to get their nectar,” Ruby put in as she placed the cobbler between Monroe and Amos. “I might need to start up another hive or two this summer.”
“We’ve made so much progress,” Christine said as she slung her arms around her sisters. “Last year at this time, Mattie and Rosetta and I were just getting up the nerve to buy this abandoned church camp, and look how far we’ve come.”
When the front door banged in the lobby, everyone looked up to see Maria hurrying into the dining room. Her face glowed with happiness as she found Truman among the other men. “Is that staked rectangle in front of the barn where my bakery will be?” she asked eagerly.
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