After the driver-side doors of the trucks opened, a couple of burly fellows came up to join their circle. “This is our gut friend Tyler and his buddy Jeff,” one of the Helmuth twins said as he pointed to each man in turn. “They drive for us back home when we have major deliveries.”
Christine and Rosetta nodded at the two men, who wore plaid flannel shirts beneath their leather jackets. “You fellows are welcome to stay as long as you like,” Christine invited. “We’ve got more beds in those cabins—”
“And space heaters for you, too,” Rosetta put in. “Why don’t we all go inside? You can warm up with some coffee and cocoa and goodies before you start emptying those trucks—”
“And we can talk about where-all to store our furniture and stable the horses,” the other Helmuth twin said as they started toward the lodge.
Christine chuckled. “I’m thinking we might have to put name tags on you twin brothers until we figure out who’s Sam and who’s Simon,” she teased as she walked between the two redheads. “I’ve known your wives since they were born, and we’ve seen enough little differences to know Barbara from Bernice—”
“Maybe we’ll just keep you guessing,” the man on her left said with a laugh.
“That way, when one of us does something that irritates you, he can blame it on the other one!” his brother put in. “It’s a system that’s served us well all our lives.”
“Not that anyone ever finds fault with us,” the other twin joked.
As they went inside and showed their guests where to hang their wraps, Barbara and Bernice, both looking plump with upcoming motherhood, took Rosetta and Christine aside. “Here’s our secret,” Barbara whispered. “Sam’s name sort of rhymes with tan, so I sew his clothes mostly in tan and brown.”
“And because Simon’s name is more like lime,” Bernice said, “my husband is usually dressed in shades of green. We sisters decided to dress them this way because when they were courting us, Sam and Simon loved to fool us.”
Christine glanced at the slender redheaded men as they removed their coats. “So, unless they exchange clothes, we know that the one nearest the door is Simon—”
“And Sam is heading for the dining room,” Rosetta finished.
“They never miss a chance to eat—and how they stay so skinny, I’ll never know,” Bernice said, placing her hands on her rounded abdomen.
“They’ve been talking about the food you and the Kuhn sisters cooked ever since we left,” Barbara said with a chuckle. “It’s a real blessing, knowing you ladies can keep us all fed until we move into our house.”
Christine slung her arms around the two young women as they passed through the dining room toward the kitchen. “It’s a big move for you kids, coming all the way from Ohio to start up your nursery here with us. Takes a lot of bravery and faith, even if you’ll be close to your dat now.”
“It’ll be gut to see him and Mattie—and everyone else,” Bernice added as she smiled at the Kuhns. “We already have a bunch of friends here, like a big family to welcome us, and that makes everything easier. We’re really glad to be at Promise Lodge.”
“And we’re all happy to have you—even if I see a few extra fellows in the dining room we didn’t know about!” Beulah teased as she turned from the stove. “Not a problem. You young folks keep the rest of us from getting old.”
“Speak for yourself, sister,” Ruby said with a twinkle in her eye. “I’m barely out of my twenties—in my mind, at least!”
Christine and the twins laughed as they began carrying the coffee urn and plates of goodies to the dining room. Nothing was better than children returning to live near their parent—unless it was the excitement of awaiting Barbara and Bernice’s babies.
* * *
That evening at supper, Monroe enjoyed watching the folks around the two extra-long tables where all the residents of Promise Lodge—except for Maria and Truman—were talking and laughing as they ate. With the Helmuths’ drivers, he counted thirty-six adults and kids, plus little David, who gurgled in his basket on the floor between Mary Kate and Roman. The four Peterschiem kids sat at one end of a table with Fanny and Lowell Kurtz, fast friends already. Poor Floyd sat at the other end of that table in his wheelchair, with Frances and Gloria on either side of him, coaxing him to eat. It was good to see Amos and Mattie catching up with the two sets of Helmuth twins—
So maybe he’ll be happier now. Not as inclined to interrogate me about Leola.
With a quick prayer for forgiveness, because Amos’s attitude vexed him so, Monroe rose to get some dessert from the side table. “What can I bring you, sweetheart?” he asked.
Christine smiled from the chair next to his. “You can’t go wrong, Monroe. Choose two or three different ones and we can share them.”
His heart thumped as he anticipated sharing much more than cake and pie with the beautiful woman who held his gaze. He had an idea about who would serve as the off ici-ating bishop at their wedding, but he wanted the house to be finished before they married—and of course, he had to return Leola to Macomb, as well. Leola was seated between Rosetta and Phoebe, and he was grateful that those two had befriended her.
At the dessert table, Monroe chose a piece of custard pie, lifted a large square of apple slab pie from its cookie sheet, and then gave in to a slice of dark chocolate layer cake with walnuts pressed into the mocha frosting. When he was happy, chocolate called his name.
“Eating for three, Bishop?” Lavern Peterscheim teased him.
“Say, I hope you saved enough for us newcomers,” Allen said as he looked at the array of sweets. “A fellow could just waste away here, from what I’ve seen.”
Monroe laughed. “Not a chance,” he said. “But you’re right—we’re blessed with a lot of women who know their way around the kitchen.”
Gloria Lehman sidled up to the dessert table, widening her brown eyes at Amos’s son. “Jah, I love to cook,” she murmured. “What’s your favorite, Allen? I’ve been baking treats for the men while they work on the new houses, so I’d be happy to make what you really, really like.”
Monroe bit back a smile as he returned to his seat with his desserts. It was obvious that Allen wasn’t nearly as smitten with Gloria as she was with him, so things might get interesting when she brought her baked goods to their work breaks—especially if Allen preferred what Phoebe brought, or if he took a liking to Maria. Monroe looked down the table from where Christine awaited him, just in time to see Jonathan and Cyrus sneaking glances across the table at her daughters.
“Well, dear,” he murmured as he set the three small plates on the table, “Phoebe and Laura have some fellows checking them out. With the Helmuth cousins joining us, that brings the count to four young ladies—if we include Maria—and three young men of an age to marry.”
Christine’s eyes widened before she glanced at her girls. “Don’t even think such a thing,” she muttered. “Laura’s not yet eighteen, and Phoebe won’t be twenty-one for a couple months yet.”
Monroe smiled at her protective tone of voice. “If my math is correct, you were about Phoebe’s age when you hitched up with Willis,” he said as he cut off the tip of the custard pie. “I was about that age myself when—”
“This has nothing to do with math,” Christine insisted as she grabbed the plate of chocolate cake. “Laura’s been to Singings but never on a date, and Phoebe’s only been out with a couple of boys from Coldstream who were so tongue-tied she lost all interest in them.”
“That’s because she’s pretty and capable, like her mother, so she intimidated them,” Monroe murmured. As his fiancée attacked the chocolate cake he’d craved, he inched his fork toward it to claim a big bite. “Like it or not, my dear, your chicks will leave the nest—maybe sooner than later. At least they won’t go far, what with Jonathan and Cyrus coming here to help run the new nursery.”
Christine leveled her green-eyed gaze at him. “How about if you keep track of your Clydesdales and I’ll manage my girls?”
>
Monroe held her gaze, aiming his fork at the chocolate cake again. The smile teasing at Christine’s lips told him she wasn’t really irritated with him—she was just a conscientious single parent with two attractive daughters.
Without shifting her eyes, she clamped down on his wrist. “Get your own cake, too,” she teased him in a whisper. “Better hurry, before Sam and Simon inhale what’s left of it.”
Monroe placed his hand on top of hers. “You said we were going to share,” he reminded her. “I had plans for some of this chocolate—”
“I’m a woman. I just changed your plans.”
Monroe adored Christine’s spunk, yet he sensed it was time to draw a line. Someday they’d be sparring over issues more serious than chocolate cake. “And I’m a man,” he said firmly. “Sometimes I get to be right.”
Christine cleared her throat. She glanced away, fighting a smile. “Jah, you’re quite a man and I’m lucky to have you—lucky you’ll have me,” she murmured. “Why don’t you bring us another piece of Ruby’s fabulous chocolate cake, and we’ll practice this sharing thing? After all, we’ll be sharing everything someday soon.”
Monroe wondered if the four Helmuth cousins could hear his heart banging against his rib cage as he joined them at the dessert table. No matter what sort of mood Christine was in, she enticed him. “Dibs on the last of this cake,” he said as he picked up the entire cake plate. “You men know how it is when your woman has to have what she wants.”
Sam and Simon laughed out loud. “You’ve got that right,” one of them said.
“Jah, now that they’re carrying,” his brother put in, “nothing in the kitchen’s safe if they get a craving for it. We’ve seen Barb and Bernice hold a half-gallon container of ice cream between them and polish it off without even offering us any.”
“But they’re happy and healthy, and that’s what counts,” Monroe said. For just a moment he mourned Linda and the babies she hadn’t been able to carry to term. Then he gazed at Christine, relishing the way her face lit up when she saw him carrying the cake platter to their table.
This is what counts, he thought as he returned her smile. Making Christine happy.
Chapter Seventeen
On Thursday morning, Rosetta threw herself into helping the Helmuths and Allen get the rest of their belongings unloaded. By the time Jeff and Tyler pulled their big empty trucks onto the county highway, returning to Ohio, Barbara and Sam were settled into the cabin nearest the lodge and Bernice and Simon had made their temporary home in the one next to their siblings’. Jonathan and Cyrus were sharing the third cabin. Rosetta wasn’t surprised that Allen had chosen a small cabin farther down the line rather than bunking in the spare bedroom at Amos and Mattie’s place. He’d lived alone ever since he’d left his home in Coldstream, and it didn’t bother him a bit that he only had the minimal furnishings Rosetta and her sisters provided for him.
“As long as I don’t have to use an outdoor toilet and I eat home-cooked meals, I’m a happy man,” Allen said as he walked to the lodge with her. “I’ll pay you whatever rent you want. I just hope Gloria leaves me alone, you know? She’s pretty, but sheesh—she’s pretty obvious, too.”
Rosetta laughed and let him open the mudroom door for her. “I suspect she’s a little more anxious to find a man now that her younger sister’s married,” she mused aloud. “And it can’t be much fun seeing her dat in a wheelchair, so quiet and slumped over. Floyd certainly wasn’t that way when he came here.”
Allen nodded as he looked around the mudroom shelves, where bars of goat’s milk soap were drying. “Wow, do you make this stuff? And the Kuhn sisters are making cheese, and we’ll soon have Maria’s bakery open,” he said. “This place is really hopping.”
Rosetta hung up her coat and then reached for some bars of soap. “Take these square bars to your sisters when you go back. You and the other fellows might like this citrus soap with the cornmeal in it for scrubbing up after a day’s work.”
Allen inhaled the aroma of the round bars she gave him. He was such a handsome young man, and Rosetta suspected that Amos had looked the same when he was Allen’s age. “This’ll be great, Rosetta. I figure to start installing some plumbing at the twins’ house today—”
The ringing of the phone made Allen jump. “I’m still amazed that you’ve got an indoor phone,” he said with a laugh. “Even though all you ladies in the lodge use it for your businesses, most bishops would tell you to have a phone shanty.” He preceded Rosetta into the kitchen, eyeing the coffee cake on the worktable.
“We’re a persuasive bunch, when it comes to getting things the way we want them,” Rosetta teased as she lifted the receiver. “Hello? You’ve reached Promise Lodge, and this is Rosetta. How can I help you?”
The caller sighed heavily. “Rosetta, it’s Lester. I’ve got gut news . . . and not-so-gut news.”
Rosetta’s eyes widened. Lester Lehman sounded as though he’d aged fifty years since she’d last talked to him. “Uh-oh,” she said softly. “What’s happened, Lester?”
“Well, my two girls got hitched last week,” he replied in a more cheerful voice. “So, even though I was hoping they’d come to Missouri with me, at least they’ve found husbands to take care of them. They married a couple of brothers, like Amos’s girls did.”
“Well, congratulations!” Rosetta said, although Lester didn’t sound convinced that his new sons-in-law met his expectations. “It’ll just be you and your wife and your son coming to live here then?”
Lester cleared his throat. “My boy . . . well, the day after the double wedding, he was driving Delores into Sugarcreek. A truck popped over the hill while it was passing a car, and it came straight at their rig—”
“Oh no,” Rosetta whispered.
“—and, um, there wasn’t a whole lot of them left to bury,” Lester finished with a sob.
Rosetta leaned against the wall, covering her eyes with her hand. She hadn’t met the members of Lester’s immediate family, but she’d come to know them while talking with him and Floyd and Frances. “Lester, I’m so sorry,” she mumbled, aware of how inadequate her words sounded. “What can I do to help you? Have you called Frances yet?”
Lester blew his nose loudly. “Should’ve done that right after the accident, but I couldn’t bring myself to leave such a message on their machine,” he said softly. “Delores and Frances were close friends, and with Floyd being incapacitated, I hated to burden her with this news—knowing she’d probably not be able to come anyway.”
“Don’t worry about a thing, Lester. I’ll take care of it for you,” Rosetta suggested.
“I appreciate it. You sisters are so gut at looking after everyone, I just know my family would’ve felt right at home there,” he continued in a weary voice. “The girls are telling me I should stay in Sugarcreek, near them, but—well, I had my hopes set on running the siding and window business we’ve set up in Missouri. Especially since Floyd’s unable to carry on with it.”
Rosetta sighed. This wasn’t the time to tell Lester that his brother appeared weaker by the day. “Maybe you need some time to figure out what you’ll do next,” she suggested. She glanced up the back stairway as Christine and her girls were coming down to the kitchen. “You’ll be pleased to know that Amos’s kids have just arrived, and that their nursery buildings, barn, and house are enclosed now—along with Bishop Monroe’s buildings. They’ll all understand if you need to take more time before you come here . . . or if you decide not to.”
Christine’s eyes widened. “Who is that?” she whispered.
Rosetta covered the receiver with her hand. “Lester’s in a bad way,” she replied quickly.
“Glad to hear everything’s going well there,” Lester continued. “You might tell Roman and Noah to go ahead and finish those new places, because they helped me enough last fall that they know how to install the siding and the windows just fine. And they know who to order supplies from.”
“I’ll pass that along,�
� she assured him. “Amos’s son and Harley Kurtz can probably help, as well.”
Lester was silent for a moment. He chuckled ruefully. “You know, just hearing you talk about the progress that’s been made lately has convinced me that Promise Lodge is where I need to be,” he said softly. “I’ve got a nice house there, I’ve got Floyd and Frances, who could use my help—and I’ll be surrounded by folks who look forward instead of dwelling in the past. There’s no sense in me hanging around here, being a burden to my girls—especially because I’ve sold the siding business here in Ohio. I’ll see you in a week or two.”
Rosetta brightened. “You’ve got it right,” she said. “We’ll all be glad to have you here again. Everyone who visits remarks about how Promise Lodge looks so nicely put together—and that’s because of your siding and windows, Lester. Travel safely. We’ll keep you in our prayers—and I’ll go speak with Frances right now.”
“God bless you, Rosetta,” he murmured. “You’re a gut woman.”
She hung up and looked at Christine, her nieces, and Allen. “Lester’s wife and son were killed in a bad buggy accident last week,” she said sadly. “His two daughters got married the day before, and they want him to stay in Sugarcreek—but he’s decided to come here and be a part of our progress. I suspect he figures hard work amongst gut friends will get him through his grief.”
“That’s the way Lester would see it, jah,” Christine remarked. She wrapped her arms around Laura and Phoebe, hugging them hard. “We should take this as a reminder that family is everything—and that everyone is family. Let’s go get Mattie and the bishop, and we’ll all be there to share Lester’s message with Frances and her family.”
“Let’s take one of those coffee cakes Ruby baked this morning,” Rosetta suggested as she reached for her coat. “We can see how Floyd’s doing while we’re there, too.”
Weddings at Promise Lodge Page 15
