by Sarah Price
Taking it to her mother, Bethany laid the blanket over her mother’s lap and gently repositioned her ankle on the footrest before covering it.
“Such a fuss,” Mary said, resisting Bethany’s attention.
But Bethany remained adamant. Her mother’s ankle was swollen and felt warm to the touch. “Mayhaps you should see a doctor, Maem.”
Mary dismissed her suggestion with a gentle wave of her hand. “Nee, Bethany. As I said, it’s probably just a sprain. A little ice and a day or two off of it will help, I’m sure.”
Bethany, however, wasn’t so certain.
“What happened?” she asked for the second time.
This time, it was John who responded. “Maem said that she used a stepladder to reach something in the pantry and fell.” He shook his head. “Seems the ladder’s hinge wasn’t locked properly.”
Mary gave a weak laugh. “Edna told me to wait. I should’ve listened.”
Kneeling down beside her, Bethany placed her hand on her mother’s ankle, noticing that she winced at the touch. “Ja, Maem, you should’ve listened,” she chastised in a soft voice. “Now you’re injured.”
“It’ll be just fine by next week, I’m sure.”
Bethany stood up, too aware that John was still watching her. His attention made her feel uncomfortable. She’d never been in a situation where someone scrutinized her so intensely. Her heart beat rapidly as she forced herself to look up at him.
“Danke for bringing my maem home,” she managed to say.
“Anytime,” he said at last, releasing her from the hypnotic spell she’d been under. His lips curved again, just a little at the corners. “Although I must confess that visiting under different circumstances would be preferable.”
“Of . . . of course.”
He took a step toward the doorway as if to leave. But he paused. “Mary, if you need anything, don’t hesitate to have someone call us.” His eyes flickered in Bethany’s direction. “I’m happy to stop by.”
While kindhearted, John’s offer caught Bethany off guard. What need would her mother have of his assistance?
But Mary merely nodded, a look of genuine gratitude on her face. “Danke, John. I appreciate that. And do tell your maem that I’m terribly sorry. I’ll leave her a message tomorrow, but I think she’s right that I won’t be able to help her on Friday.”
“Ja, I figured as much.”
He started to leave, hesitating just a moment longer to meet Bethany’s gaze one last time.
“Good day, Bethany Ropp.”
And with that, he left the house.
Chapter Ten
Thanksgiving was always a lively occasion.
Almost one hundred people crowded into the large kitchen of the Beachys’ farmhouse. Some of the younger couples stopped in just to say hello before traveling somewhere else for the meal. But four large tables were set up with almost fifty folding chairs to accommodate two shifts of eating.
Family gatherings were always Edna’s favorite. She loved seeing the children playing outside in the yard despite the cold air while the older men sat around the tables talking. They shared updates about friends and family who couldn’t attend, as well as stories from when they were younger. Edna also loved working alongside the other women. She didn’t even mind that Thanksgiving was never held at her house. While they had the space to accommodate large groups, Edna enjoyed not being the one in charge of entertaining so many people. For once, she did not have to oversee the cooking or the cleaning. Sometimes it was nice to be told what to do, that was for sure and certain.
“Henry told me that you’ve been booked solid through the holidays with feeding your tourist people,” said her other sister-in-law, Mabel.
Edna handed her some dried plates to put away. Both Ida and Mabel were older than she was, but they looked young and spry. She’d always gotten along with them, even though she didn’t see them as often as she would have liked. Life was too busy for visiting frequently. Plus, they lived in different church districts, which made Edna wonder how on earth Mabel’s husband would know about her business being so busy. Perhaps Elmer had run into him at a store and forgotten to tell her.
“Ja, I am.” She wiped at another plate. “I’ve been working with a tour company in Ohio that really has been keeping me occupied.”
“Ohio?” Mabel gave a little laugh. “Why, they have their own Amish there. Why would people want to come to Shipshewana?”
“For a change, I reckon.” Edna handed her the plate. “Good for me, though. It’s really helping us through a dry spell, if you know what I mean.”
“And I also heard that Mary Ropp is helping you?”
She could only wonder how that news had spread so quickly. Mabel resided farther east, her house just over the border of Wilma’s church district. Aside from Thanksgiving and the occasional summer picnic for the family, Edna rarely saw her. But she knew that Mabel’s son Benjamin ran in the same group of friends as Wilma’s dochders. Edna could only presume there was a connection there. If there was one thing Edna knew, it was that the roots of the Amish grapevine ran far and wide, with little need of fertilizer to spread quickly.
“You heard correct, Mabel,” Edna said. “Although Mary fell yesterday and hurt her ankle. I doubt she’ll be coming tomorrow or Saturday.” And that certainly left Edna in a bind. She’d already made up her mind to ask John to help her. Being off for the week, he had the time. But she felt guilty because she knew how much he always looked forward to helping his father with farm work.
“She hurt herself?” Mabel caught her breath. “Oh help!”
“I do hope she’s okay,” Ida added. “That’s such a shame.”
“Ja, it sure was bad timing.” In more ways than one, she thought. Edna laid the dish towel over the edge of the counter. “With the holidays and all,” she added cautiously. “That will surely inconvenience her.”
“Well, I bet Wilma would love to have her twins help you.” As soon as Mabel said it, Ida snickered and turned away.
Edna knew that, even though they lived in different church districts, Ida and Mabel remained very close. Edna also suspected that they used the telephones in their barn for more than just business calls. Like many of the older Amish women, they enjoyed nothing more than sharing a little bit of gossip. And Wilma Schwartz definitely provided plenty of that.
“Oh, I bet she would, indeed.” Edna tried to keep a straight face. “I’m just not so certain I’m ready for that kind of help.”
Both of her sisters-in-law tittered, enjoying the fun banter that so often flew back and forth when families got together.
“And the boys? How are they?” Mabel scanned the room until she located Jonas and Jeremiah. “Have they calmed down at all?”
“If by ‘calmed down’ you mean started to think about courting,” Edna said, not particularly liking the way Mabel had phrased her question, “then the answer is no.”
“Such a shame.”
“Ja, and John is such a gut man. I’m surprised he’s not courting yet.”
Me, too, Edna thought. “When he’s ready, I suppose, it will happen. In God’s time, not mine.” But she sure did wish that His time would coincide a little closer to hers.
“Well, it’s probably a good thing,” Ida said. “After all, he’s working at the auction haus and would probably need to live closer to town. And I just heard that Manuel Eicher bought an Englische haus and it cost a small fortune!”
“I heard that, too!” Mabel shook her head. “Almost a hundred and fifty thousand, wasn’t it?”
Edna listened as her sisters-in-law shared information about the house, small with only one bathroom and not even enough land for a garden. But as terrible as that sounded to her, it dawned on her that John would probably have to move to a house like that one day. If he continued working in town, when he did finally settle down, it wouldn’t be on the farm. Not if Jonas and Jeremiah stayed on with their father.
It was unfortunate and, frankly, unfa
ir. But Edna knew that life wasn’t always fair. With John being more responsible than his younger brothers, it had only made sense that he find employment elsewhere. The good news was that they had a lot to be thankful for: their health, their farm, and their ability to survive even when the economy wasn’t in their favor. Still, as she glanced across the room and watched her eldest son, Edna knew that something needed to be done to help him find his way back to the farm.
If only she knew what that might be.
Chapter Eleven
Mary sat on the reclining chair at Verna’s house, her leg propped up with the white cast jutting out from beneath her navy blue dress. Everything ached and she wanted nothing more than to return home, take her pain medicine, and go to bed.
But it was Thanksgiving, after all.
“Such a shame,” Verna said, clucking her tongue as she handed Mary a teacup filled with black coffee. “I’m so glad Abram made you go to the hospital.”
Mary glanced across the room to where her husband sat at the table, enjoying his own coffee while catching up with some of the other men. He must’ve overheard Verna, for he turned around and looked at Mary.
“How’re you doing over there?” he asked.
Mary forced a smile. “Fine. Just fine.”
His eyes moved to Verna. “And she thought it was just a sprain.” He pressed his lips together and shook his head. “Wanted to wait and see.”
“Well, you did the right thing, Abram.”
Mary hated being the topic of discussion. She felt conspicuous enough sitting in the chair while the other women worked in the kitchen.
Verna must have cooked enough food for well over a hundred people, but only sixty had showed up. Mary suspected that her cousin was disappointed that more family members hadn’t come. Two of Simon’s family had canceled at the last minute due to illness, and Verna’s brother begged off when his horse went lame. With its being a holiday, they couldn’t hire a driver at the last minute.
“So much food.” Verna shook her head. “You’ll just have to take some home with you.”
“Oh, there’s no need for that.”
“Nonsense.” She took a few steps toward the kitchen. “Bethany, you make certain to set aside several plastic bags filled with turkey, mashed potatoes, carrots, and cranberry sauce. Whatever you need. And Myrna, you make certain she’s not being bashful about the amounts.”
Myrna nodded. “Will do, Maem.”
Verna sat down in a chair next to Mary. “With you being injured and all, you’ll need the food so you don’t have to cook.”
Mary stared at the leftovers that Myrna began piling up. “Land’s sake, Verna! That’s too much.” With her small family of three, they’d never eat so much food before it went bad. Besides, Abram wasn’t one to appreciate leftovers the way some other men did. “I wouldn’t even know what to do with so much food!”
Myrna looked up as she finished filling a plastic storage bag with stuffing. “Make a few shepherd’s pies and freeze them. That’s what I intend to do.”
“Of course! What a wunderbarr idea,” Mary exclaimed. Why hadn’t she thought of that?
Verna beamed as if the compliment had been intended for her and not her daughter.
Thirty minutes later, with all of the dishes cleaned and the extra tables put away, it was time for the other women to relax and catch up. Mary couldn’t help but notice how differently Myrna carried herself. She was less abrasive and definitely calmer than she’d once been. Married life certainly suited her well.
“You’re helping Edna, I hear?”
Mary hesitated. “I was, anyway.” She gestured toward her leg. “Reckon I won’t be able to help her anymore. I feel just awful about not being able to fulfill my promise.”
Verna sighed. “I wonder what Edna will do now to cope with her Christmas rush and all.”
Myrna scoffed. “Well, Wilma is always volunteering her girls. I’m sure they’ll be able to fill in.”
Verna stifled a laugh and quickly covered her mouth. “Myrna!”
“Well, it’s true! It’s a wonder Wilma didn’t shove Rachel and Ella Mae on poor Edna in the first place.”
Mary sighed. “Oh, she tried. Twice.”
Verna leaned forward. “Three times if you count last spring. Remember? When we were baking?”
“Oh ja! I forgot about that.”
“You mark my words,” Verna said, jabbing at the air with her finger, “she’ll get those two girls there one of these days.”
Myrna made a noise deep within her throat as she sipped a cup of tea.
Setting down her teacup, the porcelain clattering lightly against the saucer, Myrna pursed her lips, clearly studying Bethany for a few long, drawn-out seconds. Mary couldn’t help but wonder what her cousin’s daughter was thinking. She’d always been very perceptive. It was a strength that, in the past, had masked itself as a character defect at times.
“Edna still has all three sons living at home, ja?” Myrna asked casually.
Mary sensed Bethany stiffen.
“Ja, she does,” Mary admitted.
“The oldest is—what?—twenty-five or -six?”
“I believe so.”
Myrna narrowed her eyes. “And the youngest isn’t much more than twenty-one?”
Again, Mary concurred.
“Uh-huh.” Myrna raised an eyebrow.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Verna asked.
“Nothing,” Myrna answered, a light tone in her voice. The mischievous glow in Myrna’s eyes told Mary that the young woman wasn’t exactly telling the truth. In fact, from the looks of it, Myrna was up to no good.
“Just seems like an interesting setup for a young Amish woman to work in, don’t you think?”
Mary was willing to let the remark pass without further comment, but Verna was not so inclined.
“Myrna Riehl!”
A forced look of innocence replaced the mischievousness on Myrna’s face.
“What are you thinking?”
She faced her mother and smiled. “Nothing. Nothing at all.” The old Myrna would have spoken her mind, not caring if she embarrassed someone. The new Myrna, however, remained silent.
It didn’t matter, though. Mary didn’t need any explanation. As soon as Myrna had mentioned Edna’s sons, Mary understood exactly what thoughts had popped into Myrna’s mind.
Truth be told, she’d had the same thoughts already, but she hadn’t shared them with anyone. Perhaps it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to see if someone could step in to help Edna, someone who wasn’t one or even both of Wilma’s daughters.
Her eyes traveled to where Bethany sat, her finger tracing the rim of her own teacup, apparently ignoring the conversation or, perhaps, too deep in her own thoughts to be listening. With three young, unmarried men living at Edna’s, it would be an interesting scenario to get Bethany over there. Surely one of them might show some interest in Bethany. After all, according to Edna, not one of them was currently courting—at least not that she knew of. And they were all of marrying age.
But Mary hadn’t wanted to share her thoughts. Not with her friends, not with Abram, and most certainly not with Bethany. Not yet anyway.
The last thing Mary wanted was to introduce hope when it might lead nowhere. She had no idea if Bethany would be willing to help out Edna, and even if she did, who knew if she would favor one of the Esh boys? Sometimes, Mary thought, it was better to let God lead the way without holding any preconceived expectations of specific outcomes. That way, if things didn’t quite work out, there were less chances of feeling disappointed.
Still, as the conversation drifted away from Edna and onto other topics, Mary couldn’t help but pray that maybe—just maybe!—God might find a way to put Bethany into Edna’s path, not only because she’d be helping the woman but because it might just bring her into the sphere of a possible future husband.
Chapter Twelve
After the Thanksgiving meal, Bethany couldn’t wait until they retu
rned home from Verna’s house. It wasn’t that she didn’t care for Verna and her family. No, that wasn’t it at all. But Bethany hadn’t particularly liked Myrna acting like the matchmaker.
Oh, she’d overheard them all right. She’d just been too stunned to respond to the suggestion that she should help at Edna’s, not because her mother was injured, but because Edna had three eligible sons.
Bethany had always gotten along with Myrna, even though other people did not particularly care for her overbearing personality. Myrna had always been kind to her, especially about her shyness. As a child, other people had teased Bethany about not wanting to attend youth gatherings. Myrna had always stuck up for her.
When Myrna had found a good match with Ezekiel, Bethany had been delighted for her cousin. Myrna certainly deserved her own happiness. But now that she was married it appeared that she was back to her domineering ways.
Well, Bethany was more than happy staying at home. And she certainly didn’t need Myrna to plant seeds in her mother’s head. It was unfortunate that her mother had injured her ankle and could no longer help Edna. However, that only meant her mother needed her more than ever at home. How would her mother get around without Bethany’s help? And all of the responsibilities for the household chores would fall squarely on her shoulders.
“That was a nice Thanksgiving, wasn’t it?” her mother said after Bethany helped her settle into one of the recliners. “So much food! And that turkey was just about the freshest I’ve tasted in I don’t know how long.” She glanced up at her daughter. “Did you know Ezekiel shot it himself?”
“Ja, you told me that twice.”
“Did I?”
“Need anything, Maem?” Bethany took a blanket and covered her mother’s legs so that she didn’t catch a chill. “Tea, perhaps?”
Her mother reached up and patted Bethany’s hand. “Nee, Dochder. I’m just fine. Besides, we’re out of tea.”
With her mother settled into her chair, Bethany unwrapped her black shawl from her own shoulders and hung it, along with her mother’s, on the hooks by the door.
