by Jo Ann Brown
“We all have parts of our pasts we don’t want to talk about.” She selected each word with care, not wanting to turn his curiosity from Becky Sue to her. “She came to you.”
“She said she didn’t know this was the settlement I’d worked to build.”
Annie grimaced as she picked up her roller and ran it in the tray. “You believe that thin tale? I might have believed it if she’d showed up on our doorstep or on the Troyers’, but she looked for sanctuary in your bakery. Anyone in the area could have told her what this building was and who owned it.”
“I didn’t think of that.”
“Neither did I. Not at first, but once my shock at her arrival wore off, I started to notice how she seems to know more about our settlement than she would have if she wandered into it by chance.” She began to run the roller along the wall. “Have you heard anything from her parents?”
“Nothing.”
“That’s odd.”
He wrestled the cabinet into place in an empty spot between the stove and refrigerator before he answered. “I think it’s strange, too. Maybe I’d understand it if she’d be honest with me, but I’m getting nowhere with her.”
“I knew that before you told me about your conversation with her this morning.”
His brows pinched the skin over his nose as he frowned. “You did?”
“Of course. I’d have to be as unobservant as an infant not to notice how often you’ve tried to turn the conversation to the boppli’s daed and how every time Becky Sue has deflected your questions.”
“Will you talk to her?”
“Me?” Her voice came out in a squeak as she paused with the roller against the wall. “But she barely knows me.” Feeling paint trickle onto her hand, she moved the roller over the stream before setting it in the tray.
“She knows you better than she knows me. Will you help?”
“All right.”
“All right?” He leaned against the cupboard as he faced her.
Breathing seemed as difficult as if she were under the clear, cool waters of a pond. His strong shoulders and narrow hips were emphasized by his long legs stretching toward her. There was an aura of strength surrounding him, but his heart, which made him determined to help his cousin, was gentle. A faint smile curved his lips and shimmered in his remarkable grass-green eyes.
“What?” she whispered, unable to speak louder.
“It’s not like Annie Wagler to acquiesce so fast. I guess I don’t know you any better than I know my cousin, ain’t so?”
Ready to say she’d be happy to tell him anything he wanted to know, she halted herself. How could she tell him she treasured moments like this when the two of them were alone and spoke of important matters? Of how she sensed a sweet intimacy that urged her to abolish the walls around her heart and allow her to tell him how important he’d become to her in the past year?
She couldn’t. She’d come to the bakery this morning, resolved to do what she must to help him discover how Leanna would make him a gut wife. Why hadn’t he taken her joking suggestion to invite Leanna to do chores with him instead of insisting he’d persuade Annie to like working in the barn? There had to be a way to get her sister and Caleb to spend some time together.
Lowering her eyes, she said, “I’ll talk with Becky Sue, but you have to be part of the conversation, too.”
“Won’t that defeat the purpose of having you talk to her?”
She shook her head. “If I speak with her alone, she might reveal something I won’t recognize as a clue to the truth because, other than Miriam, I don’t know much about your family.”
“That’s sensible. We’ll have to work out where and when.”
“Let’s think about it. If she thinks we’re conspiring against her, she’ll refuse to talk to us.” She bent to collect the roller again. She stared at the wall in front of her as she asked, “Now that’s settled, will you do me a favor?”
He didn’t falter. “Sure. I owe you big-time. What can I do for you?”
Chapter Eight
Annie was taken aback by Caleb’s question. She hadn’t expected him to agree so quickly. She’d figured he would ask what the favor was first.
Or maybe she shouldn’t be surprised. He was a man of integrity. His steady, fair way of listening to everyone had smoothed rough edges as a diverse group from several different districts and states had merged into one.
Now he’d agreed to do her a favor. Without a single quibble. All she had to do was ask.
But it wasn’t easy.
The words weren’t difficult. Words had never been a problem for her.
Yet she hesitated. Once she told him what she’d practiced for hours last night when she should have been sleeping, and he agreed to do her the favor, her heart would take a sharp blow. She couldn’t put her own happiness above her sister’s. Dear Leanna had been so sad for too long, pretending to accept the fact that the man she loved had married another without bothering to tell her.
Taking a deep breath, she said, “The Salem Volunteer Fire Department is having a mud sale, which is coming up.”
“I know. In about three weeks.” He gave her a cheeky grin, and her heart skidded for a moment before regaining its beat. “I don’t want to brag, but it was my idea to have the auction to raise money as they do in Lancaster County.”
“So you’re going.”
He glanced around the kitchen. Boxes had been shoved into any possible space to allow room to work. As if he’d spoken his thoughts aloud, she guessed he was wondering if he could afford to take the day of the mud sale off because there was so much to be done in order for the bakery to open its doors in May.
“I don’t think I should miss what was my idea, ain’t so?” he asked.
“Probably not.”
“Are you planning to go?”
“Ja. I mean... I assume I’ll stop by at least part of the day.”
She was making a mess of this. It should be simple. Ask for what she wanted. He’d already said he’d agree without finding out what she wanted.
How hard could it be?
Harder than she’d guessed.
Taking a deep breath, she put the paint roller into its tray. She stood straight and faced him. “Will you give Leanna a ride with you to the mud sale?” The words burst out of her in a rush.
He looked surprised. “Why? I’d assumed your family would be going together. Didn’t you say something about Leanna donating a quilt?”
“I did, and I know she’d like to be there when it’s auctioned off. With my grossmammi taking longer and longer to get ready to go anywhere, we might not be able to get to the firehouse before her quilt is sold.”
“You don’t have to worry. The quilts won’t be sold until around noon. We want the biggest crowd possible for the quilt auction and for lunch itself.”
Annie didn’t want to say she’d known that. Why was it difficult to do what should be easy? She desperately wanted to see her sister happy. Just say it!
Before she could, Caleb’s brow knit with concern. “Is Inez failing fast?”
“She has gut days and not-so-gut ones,” Annie hedged. Why hadn’t she devised some other excuse to persuade Caleb? “I don’t want to take the chance Leanna will miss seeing who buys the quilt she made. Will you pick her up that morning?”
Puzzlement pulled at his face. “Ja, if that’s what you want in exchange for helping me with Becky Sue.”
“It’s not a trade-off.” Her voice sounded distant in her ears. Almost unrecognizable. Were those calm tones hers? How could they be when her stomach roiled and her heart, threatening to tear apart the weak patches she’d put on it, hammered like a cloudburst on a metal roof? “I was going to ask you anyhow.”
“I made it easier for you by asking you to help me first.”
“Ja, you did.” She prayed God woul
d forgive her for that half-truth. Everything about setting up this day between her twin and Caleb was tough because each word she spoke might be the very one that turned his thoughts to her sister forever. It was what she wanted. All of her except her heart.
But you can be friends with him when he’s your brother-in-law, she tried to remind herself, but it was to no avail.
Then she told her to stop being selfish. If there was a chance—any chance at all—her sister could set aside her long months of grief and be happy again, it was well worth doing a bit of damage to her own heart.
It was, wasn’t it?
* * *
The house was quiet because everyone else was either in bed or in their rooms preparing for the night. Annie was alone in the kitchen, and she was using the time to make some cookies for everyone to enjoy the next day. She’d doubled the recipe, planning to take a few extra to the bakery to share with Caleb when they had their midday break. For the first time since she’d got home, she felt as if she could draw a full breath. Spending time with her twin while preparing supper had made her so uncomfortable she’d thought everyone would notice.
Nobody had because Joey had been fussy. The boppli now had two teeth trying to break through, and he was miserable. Even the hard teething biscuits Annie had made for him, using an old family recipe, had failed to give him any comfort. They’d passed the little boy from one set of Wagler arms to the next. Each time, he would stop whining and crying for a few minutes as he patted each of them on the face, put his nose to theirs and gurgled his boppli talk to them. He had a name of sorts for each of them. “Wa-wa” for Juanita, “Lee” for Leanna and “Na-nee” for Annie. For Kenny, he said, “Ken.” That delighted her brother, and Kenny and Joey laughed each time the kind said it.
Grossmammi Inez had made a concoction from herbs, lemon and sugar to put on his swollen gums. Rocking him to sleep, she’d given him to his mamm to take upstairs along with the rest of the paste to lather on if Joey woke in the night.
Annie sat at the kitchen table while the cookies baked. She enjoyed the aroma of the rich chocolate chips in the cookies while she let the quiet slip over her like a warm shawl. She read the circle letter that had been delivered in the morning’s mail. Her momentary sense of peace had vanished by the time she read the five letters enclosed with the one she’d sent the last time the letter had come to her. She was supposed to pull that one out, throw it away and put in a new letter before posting the whole packet again to her cousin in Central Pennsylvania.
And she tried. In between putting trays in the oven and ten minutes later taking out the finished cookies, she’d pulled out a sheet of clean paper. While the latest batch cooked, her pen hovered over the paper. Each of the letters spread out on her table mentioned the writers’ curiosity about whether anything had happened between Leanna and Caleb. Somehow, each of her friends had read between the lines to discern Annie believed her twin and the settlement’s founder were attracted to each other.
She had news she could share, but she hesitated. Writing the words that Caleb was escorting her twin to the upcoming mud sale would make it too real.
“But you want it to be real,” she murmured.
“Talking to yourself can be a sign of losing your mind.”
At Grossmammi Inez’s jesting voice, Annie half turned in her chair, astonished because she’d thought her grossmammi had retired for the night. The old woman had her hair braided and hidden beneath a black kerchief. When Grossmammi Inez reached for one of the letters on the table, Annie wanted to snatch it from her hands. Instead she got up and took out a cookie sheet before putting the last one in to bake.
Scanning the letter she held, Grossmammi Inez sat at the table. Her breathing seemed more strained than yesterday.
“Did you make an appointment with the doktor?” Annie asked as she came to the table.
“Ja.” Inez gestured toward the calendar hanging by the refrigerator. “For the first week in May.”
“He didn’t have anything sooner?”
“You know the doktors are at the clinic in Salem only a couple of days a week.”
Annie bit her lower lip before she asked if her grossmammi had let the office know how much difficulty she was having breathing. Why ask? She already knew Grossmammi Inez would never complain like that, not even to medical staff.
“Maybe,” Annie said, “we should go to Glens Falls or Bennington to one of the hospitals so you can be seen by a doktor there.”
“I’d need to have an appointment with my doktor here first before they would see me.”
Unless you went to the emergency room. Annie didn’t want to say that aloud, because the suggestion would distress her grossmammi.
Grossmammi Inez patted Annie’s hand. “You worry too much, Annie. Don’t forget what was written in the eighth chapter of Romans. And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to His purpose. Have faith everything will turn out right.”
“I have faith, but...”
“You like to help things move a bit faster?” Inez tapped the letter she held.
Annie gave her grossmammi an ironic smile and hoped her cheeks weren’t flushing. “You see me clearly.”
“Eyes looking through love have a way of being clear-sighted.”
“I wish that were true.”
Grossmammi Inez put down the letter and folded her arms on the table. “So it’s true.”
“What’s true?”
“You’re matchmaking for your sister.”
Annie was surprised the older woman didn’t make it a question. “I want her to be happy.”
“We all do.” Her grossmammi sighed, her uneven breath breaking into it. “Who have you decided is the best match for your twin?”
Annie’s gaze slipped toward the cookies cooling on the counter, then to the letters in front of her. A mistake, she knew, the instant her grossmammi’s followed.
“It’s Caleb Hartz, ain’t so?” Grossmammi Inez wagged a finger at her. “Don’t look at me in shock, kins-kind. If you want to keep a secret, don’t give yourself away by letting your eyes focus on these letters filled with such interesting questions about your twin sister and Caleb.”
“I never could fool you, Grossmammi.”
“True.” Inez clasped her hands together as if in prayer. “But why Caleb, Annie? If anyone had asked me, I’d have said you’re the one who likes Caleb Hartz.”
“I do like him. He’s a gut man.” Annie pushed back her chair and went to open the oven door before the final batch of cookies burned. “After what happened to Leanna with Gabriel, she deserves a gut man in her life.”
“Be that as it may, you’re leaving out one important detail. The heart wants what it wants. I think that was written by an Englisch poet.”
“Emily Dickinson,” Annie said as she used a spatula to put the new cookies next to the others on the aluminum foil. “You’re quoting many different sources tonight, Grossmammi.”
“I didn’t know who wrote those words. I saw them on a plaque in a store one time, and they’ve stayed with me.”
“And I saw it in a gift shop when I was looking for a birthday card for Juanita.” Annie smiled, hoping the time was right to change the subject. “Who would have guessed shopping was educational?”
“Educational? What did you learn from the quote, Annie?”
“That my heart wants my sister’s heart to know happiness again.”
“You can’t choose how your sister feels, Annie. She has decided to mourn for what she couldn’t have. Ja, the heart may want what it wants, but we can’t be ruled by our hearts. The gut Lord gave us brains so we might remember His love flows through us. To turn our backs on it is what brings unhappiness. Once your sister recalls God loves her, no matter what happens, she can regain her joy with life and with Him.”
Annie wished she could have her grossmammi’s strong faith. Maybe then she’d know what she was supposed to do.
Grossmammi Inez sighed again. “But you’ve already put your plans into motion, ain’t so?”
“Ja.”
“I’ll pray God is using you as His tool, Annie, and it’s not your impatience guiding you. And I’ll pray it’ll turn out as it should.”
“I will, too.” Annie wondered if she’d ever meant three words more seriously in her whole life.
Lyndon Wagler was washing the barn floor when Caleb walked in after dawn the following week. Annie’s big brother was whistling tunelessly in time with his sweeping motions as he sent the water spraying across the concrete. Rivers flowed from under the stainless steel tank toward the drain beneath the sink hooked to the far wall.
“Gute mariye,” Caleb called.
Lifting his thumb off the sprayer control, Lyndon turned to face him. “I didn’t expect to see you so early, Caleb. Figured you’d be milking at this hour, too.”
“Just finished, so I thought I’d come and talk to you.”
“Sounds important.” Lyndon draped the end of the hose over the reel on the wall and bent to turn off the water. “Is it something with finalizing our Ordnung?”
“You’re asking the wrong guy. You’d have to ask Eli.”
Lyndon gave a snort. “Just because you aren’t married and you couldn’t have your name in the lot doesn’t mean you’re not involved any longer.”
Caleb nodded. Everyone in the new settlement had had a voice—directly or indirectly—in the establishment of the rules under which they would live. That was the way a plain community was run.
“So what brings you over here before breakfast?”
“I wanted to let you know my plans before they went any further,” he said.
“Plans? For the bakery?” Lyndon laughed. “Now you are talking to the wrong person. I can warm up soup and make toast, but that’s the extent of my culinary skills.”
“No, this has to do with the mud sale.”
“Ah, looking for donations? Rhoda has been experimenting with some cheese she thought she might offer for the auction. We plan to be there to work. Anything else you need from us?”
