by Beth Wiseman
On her first day, Moses showed her the sewing room. An old treadle machine was pushed against the wall next to rolls of fabric. Plastic containers lined a shelf and were filled with needles, thread, quilting squares, ribbons, and various odds and ends. Moses told her to set up the room however she wanted, and he’d pointed her to a box of office supplies that resembled artifacts from the fifties.
She found a few old rubber stamps with ink pads, instead of the more recent pre-inked kind. The stapler was a cumbersome and slightly rusty blue gadget that required a significant slam of Cecelia’s hand to staple anything. There were ledger books, pencils, and several small sharpeners, along with an old Remington typewriter and a hand crank adding machine. A desk stood by a window with a view of the pond. Two horses lingered near it, nibbling on the new growth that had pushed its way up through the previously frozen grass.
After Moses showed her to the sewing room and explained a few details about his finances, he announced that he was heading to Indianapolis via bus to attend a relative’s funeral and two horse auctions, and that he’d be back Friday evening. When she asked for a key to get in the house, he said he never locked the door.
She’d begun to familiarize herself with Moses’s unique bookkeeping system when she started the new job on Tuesday, and it had taken her three days to feel comfortable with his way of doing things, which seemed bizarre. He had four different accounts and all handwritten ledgers.
Cecelia glanced out the window as she piled the ledgers on the corner of the desk. She’d been disappointed that Moses had to go out of town on her first day, but she was proud of the work she’d accomplished and hoped he would be too. She grabbed a piece of paper and wrote him a note.
I hope your travels went well. I left a chicken casserole in the refrigerator and added more ice in the icebox. See you on Monday.
Cecelia
She didn’t know where Moses got the big ice blocks to use in the vintage refrigerator, but she’d picked up two bags of ice on her way to his house this morning. Hopefully, the casserole would be a nice surprise when he returned home. It felt good to cook for someone again.
Taking a deep breath of satisfaction, she left the note on the desk, picked up her purse, and headed to the front door, which she’d left open so the nice breeze could blow through the screen. The weather had warmed up some after the last, hopefully, cold spell of the season. A woman raised her hand to knock when Cecelia rounded the corner of the den. It took a few moments to place the woman’s face, then she recognized her as Lucas’s mother, Helen, the woman she’d met briefly at Levi and Mary’s house.
“Hello. If you’re looking for Moses, I’m afraid he’s out of town, but scheduled to be back this evening.” Cecelia pushed the screen door open and stood out of the way so Helen could come in. “I’m just on my way out,” she added in case Helen was planning to stay longer than a few minutes.
Helen stepped over the threshold, the screen door snapping closed behind her. She lifted the loaf of bread she carried. “I will just leave this in the kitchen for him, if that’s all right. He’s so kind to allow our boys to keep their horses at his place.”
Cecelia started to tell Helen that the bread would go nicely with the casserole she’d left for Moses, but then thought better of it. Cecelia cooking for Moses might sound a little too cozy for Helen’s liking. The woman already had a disapproving scowl on her face.
“Yes, one of your sons came by earlier to say they’d be getting their horses later today.” Cecelia waited for Helen to take the bread to the kitchen, but she set it on the wooden coffee table that was in front of a worn tan couch.
“What does Moses have you doing?” Helen raised an eyebrow, the slightest hint of a grin in her expression.
Cecelia smirked and pulled the strap of her purse up on her shoulder. “His bookkeeping.”
Helen nodded before lifting her chin. “I see.”
“Do you?” Cecelia tipped her head to one side. “Because it almost seems that you’re implying there is more than an employee and employer relationship.” She laughed. “I assure you that would never happen.” She’d been disappointed that Moses asked her to dinner to discuss the job and not because he found her interesting and attractive—but only because she’d been starved for male attention.
“I’m happy to hear that. Moses is a gut man. Even though we encourage widows and widowers to remarry quickly, I’d hate for him to fall for someone as pretty as you, but who wouldn’t be happy with us.”
Cecelia felt herself blushing and softening toward Helen. “Thank you for the compliment. He does seem like a good man, but I’m just working part-time doing his books. However, I don’t think a person can have too many friends.”
Helen pressed her lips together for a few awkward seconds. “Nee, of course not. But . . . a friendship can unexpectedly turn into romance, and”—she stammered, then cleared her throat—“when it’s two people who don’t fit into each other’s worlds, heartache is sure to follow.”
Cecelia eased the strap of her purse down her arm and placed her bag on the coffee table by the bread. “Are we talking about Moses and me or my daughter and your son?”
Helen flinched as she shifted her weight. “May I?” She pointed to the couch as she placed a hand on her hip, and Cecelia recalled the way she’d limped at Mary and Levi’s house. “I’d like to talk to you.”
“I don’t see why not. I just work here.” Cecelia grinned, then shrugged before she took a seat in one of two high-back rocking chairs facing the couch.
“And, ya, I suppose I was working up to a conversation about Lucas and your dochder.” Helen cringed again as she placed a hand on her hip. “I’m sorry. I’ve been battling this arthritis for several years, and the herbal remedies seem to be failing me.”
“You look awfully young to have arthritis.” Cecelia figured she could repay the earlier compliment even though Helen had dark circles underneath her eyes, sun splotches on her cheeks, and chapped lips. Despite all of that and her graying hair, her features indicated that she wasn’t much older than Cecelia. “Do your people not believe in modern medicine?” She didn’t intend for the statement to sound as clipped as it did. “I mean, surely that’s allowed, right?”
Helen straightened as she lifted her chin again, which was beginning to irritate Cecelia. “Ya, we accept traditional medicines, but I’ve relied mostly on herbal treatments.” A pained expression filled her face as a trail of sweat slid down from her temple, even though the temperature seemed comfortable inside Moses’s house. It was warmer than usual for the middle of March. But then, Cecelia wore a pair of white capri pants and a lightweight tan blouse, not a heavy blue dress, black apron, black socks, and black shoes. Not to mention the head covering with Helen’s hair tucked inside. No wonder the woman looked like she was having a heatstroke.
“So, what do you want to talk to me about concerning Natalie and Lucas?” Cecelia crossed one leg over the other as she folded her hands atop her knees. “I’m guessing you’re also worried about their friendship growing into something of a more romantic nature?”
Helen folded her hands in her lap and nodded. “Ya, I am. I once had a dream that Lucas would become our bishop someday.” She shrugged. “It was only a dream, but I’d hate for anything to prevent him from pursuing the Lord’s plan for him.”
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, there is no way I see a relationship working out between Natalie and your son.” She chuckled as she shook her head. “I can’t picture my daughter as a bishop’s wife or giving up her dream of becoming a veterinarian.”
“You make light of it, but I see the way they look at each other.” Helen paused, pressed her lips together again, then sighed. “It would crush our family if Lucas were to leave our district and choose to live a life we don’t approve of.”
Cecelia felt a little pinpricked at the remark. “I assure you, neither Natalie nor I approve of the primitive way you people live. It’s not natural. God would want us to em
brace technology.”
Helen narrowed her eyebrows at Cecelia. “Are you an expert on what Gott wants? Do you even go to church, Cecelia? Was Natalie raised in a church?”
Cecelia stiffened. Helen had hit a nerve. “We believe in God.”
Helen’s smug expression might as well have said, Score one for the Amish. “Within our district and according to the teachings of the Ordnung, we do not question each other’s faith. Ya, some feel the Lord more deeply, but we are all believers and we live by the code set forth generations ago.” She took a deep breath. “And we are not in the habit of ministering to outsiders. It isn’t our way, but Lucas has been teaching Natalie about Gott.”
“Forgive me, Helen, but you act as though your people are better than the rest of the world.” Cecelia uncrossed her legs and folded her arms across her chest. “I’m sure there are some sinners among you.”
Helen stared into Cecelia’s eyes. “I could say the same to you—that you portray yourself as better than us—but we are all sinners.” She looked briefly at her lap. “But I didn’t come here to have a debate about our beliefs. I am worried that our children are crossing over from friendship into something more serious, and I don’t think you want that any more than I do.”
Cecelia wanted to believe that Natalie wouldn’t give up her dreams and fall into a life like Helen’s. But Lucas was a good-looking young man. “No, I do not want my daughter giving up her life plan to live like an Amish person.”
Helen scowled. “Live like an Amish person? You’re either Amish or you’re not.”
Cecelia leaned forward and tried to choose her words carefully, even though the time she took to do so left a silence that loomed between them like a heavy mist. She reminded herself that she and Helen were on the same page. “We don’t want our children to fall in love and alter the plans they’ve laid out for themselves. We are in agreement. But I don’t know what we can do about it.”
“The plans Gott has for them.” Helen struggled to get to her feet, the lines on her forehead deepening. “I have already caught them alone together once. It worries me that temptation will get the better of them.”
Cecelia reached for her purse, dug around for a few seconds, and pulled out a bottle of ibuprofen. She stood and offered it to Cecelia. “God wouldn’t want you suffering when there are medicines available to help you. Just keep the bottle. I have more at home”
Helen hesitated but eventually took the ibuprofen. “Danki.”
Cecelia draped her purse over her shoulder and followed Helen to the door. They were barely on the porch when a blue van pulled in the driveway. Moses stepped out a minute later, retrieved a red suitcase from the back, and closed the space between them.
“Wie bischt, Moses?” Helen nodded over her shoulder. “I left you a loaf of bread on the coffee table. The boys will be by later to take the horses up to the catwalk to fish.”
Moses walked up the porch steps and set his luggage beside him. “Danki, Helen, but you don’t have to bring me bread every time the boys come get the horses.” He winked at her, and Cecelia felt silly again for having thought Moses was flirting with her.
Helen blushed as she smiled. “It’s no bother.” Then she started gingerly down the steps, grasping the wooden handrail, looking over her shoulder to tell Cecelia goodbye.
Cecelia gave a quick wave and forced a smile. She didn’t think she could ever be friends with the woman, but a level of civility might come in handy should Natalie and Lucas venture into new territory, although Cecelia doubted they would. Her daughter might be tempted by Lucas’s good looks, but surely Natalie wouldn’t allow it to turn into a full-blown relationship. Cecelia waited until Helen was out of earshot before she turned to Moses.
“Welcome back. I left you a casserole in the refrigerator, and I also brought two bags of ice.” She shrugged, sighing. “Although, I don’t know how you’ll heat up the food.”
“In the wood oven, of course.” He smiled and winked at her. “I appreciate the meal very much. It’s been a long day.”
“Do you do that with all women—that winking thing?” Frowning, she could feel her face warming.
He took a step closer to her, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “Does it bother you?”
Cecelia scowled. “I’m used to men winking at me . . .” That was a lie, but she wasn’t going to let Moses get the best of her. “But it seems inappropriate for your kind to do it.”
“Then I won’t do it again.” He picked up the suitcase, eased around Cecelia, and opened the screen door. “Come in. Have supper with me.”
Cecelia knew the Amish ate supper around four or five, but she shook her head. “No, I’m fine. Really.” The thought of not eating alone was appealing, but Moses was her employer. They shouldn’t be socializing outside of work hours.
“Then don’t eat and come tell me how you like the job so far.” He continued holding the door open until Cecelia finally walked inside, and then he followed her in and set down his suitcase.
Cecelia dropped her purse on the coffee table again and shrugged. “I’m hungry, so I’ll eat.” It was only three thirty, but she’d had a light lunch. Although, she hadn’t a clue how long it would take to heat the casserole in a wood oven.
“Gut.” Moses smiled as he motioned for her to follow him to the kitchen. Cecelia felt like she was in an old western movie. She’d been in the kitchen several times since she started the job, and it was hard for her to imagine how people could live this way in this day and time. She’d been in plenty of Amish homes over the years, and a lot of the houses were much nicer than her home, which she considered to be upper middle class. The “fancy Amish,” as she had dubbed them, might not have electricity, but their use of solar panels and propane at least kept them in this century. But in this area, near Orleans, these people were stuck in another era. She glanced again at the woodstove and lack of common appliances, like a toaster, can opener, and electrical outlets. And, of course, there were no lights, just a lantern on the counter.
“How do you like the job so far?” Moses lit the oven with practiced ease. Then he walked to the antique fridge and took out the casserole, which seemed lonely as it resided in a refrigerator that held only butter, milk, and a couple eggs. Maybe she’d bring a few items to stock it after she got a paycheck.
“I’ve carried down all the numbers on your ledgers, and your bills are sorted by due dates.” Sweat beads began to pool at her temples as the heat from the woodstove warmed the kitchen. She supposed it would be nice during the fall and winter months, but it wasn’t cold enough to enjoy right now. She dabbed at her temples with her finger.
Moses took the casserole, which Cecelia had put in a foil container, and placed it in the oven. “Let’s head back to the den, ya? I can tell you’re not used to this heat.”
“What are you going to do during the summer months?” she asked as she followed him into the other room.
“Cook outside,” he said as he lowered himself onto the couch.
Cecelia nodded before she took a seat in one of the rockers.
“That’s gut that you’ve got the bills ready. Did you have any problems?” He kicked off his shoes and lifted his socked feet onto the coffee table.
“There weren’t any bank statements, so I just carried down the numbers in your ledger. I didn’t have any problems, but you have a lot of bills due. I just need to know how you want to proceed. I can write out the checks, then you can sign them, but which account do you want me to use?” Cecelia had been shocked at the balances in two of the accounts—over thirty thousand each. Breaking horses and buying and selling the animals must be a lucrative business. The other two accounts had a few hundred dollars but looked mostly inactive.
Moses took off his straw hat, set it on the couch beside him, and ran a hand through his dark hair, which was flat on top. “I’ll add your name to the two larger accounts, and you can just sign the checks. I’d like to have everything paid before the due dates.” He grinned. “That’s the
part I’ve been failing at. I forget what’s due when, and I’ve been late more than a few times.”
Cecelia recalled a late notice from a feed store in town. She watched and listened to him with a growing curiosity. Moses wasn’t just a different kind of Amish man, he was also too trusting. He left his doors unlocked, and he was about to trust a woman he didn’t know with his money.
“Marianne used to run the household with the smaller accounts.” Moses’s gaze drifted past Cecelia as a somber expression settled over him. “I probably don’t need those anymore.” He recovered with a slow smile that echoed the warmth in his voice. “There isn’t much to run around here for a widower. I mostly eat out or open a can of something I can heat up easily, as I mentioned before.” He rubbed his stomach. “So, I’m especially grateful for the meal tonight.”
Cecelia knew how lonely it was to eat alone night after night.
“Just let me know when the accounts run low, and I’ll make a deposit.” Moses yawned. “Sorry. Long day of travel. One of the auctions was this afternoon in a town on the other side of Indianapolis, and then the driver hit traffic coming through the city on the way home. And there was the funeral and the other auction the past couple days. Neither auction had horses I wanted to bid on.” He shrugged, then winked at her, grinning. “I’m happy to be home.” Holding up a palm, he chuckled. “Sorry. No more winking.”
Cecelia wished she could control the blush creeping up her neck. And, good grief, how many accounts did this Amish man have if he was going to make deposits from yet another one? She was aware some of the Amish were quite wealthy. They grew most of their own food, butchered their own meat, and canned fruits and vegetables. They had no expenses for cars or insurance, electricity, or even propane in this district.
Many lived in houses that had been passed down for generations, thus no mortgage either. They didn’t watch TV or use the internet, and those who lived in this ultraconservative area also had no phone bills. Cecelia was grateful Moses had indoor plumbing. She’d noticed a few outhouses on her way here, and she’d shuddered, hoping her new boss wasn’t still using some sort of outdoor contraption. To her relief, Moses’s bathroom was quite nice, complete with a lovely, oversized claw-foot tub.
