A Home for Lydia (The Pebble Creek Amish Series) (4 page)

BOOK: A Home for Lydia (The Pebble Creek Amish Series)
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A
s soon as the two men walked into the barn, Aaron started harnessing the black gelding. Gabe stood back and watched him work. Apparently, he needed to spend some of his pent up energy, not to mention some of his frustration.

“Debris up to the porch steps.” Aaron pulled the gelding out of his stall.

“Shutters falling off the windows.” He worked the collar over the horse’s ears, not bothering to speak to him or show him any affection.

“Cabins look as if they haven’t seen any paint in years.” He straightened the horse’s mane, but wasn’t too gentle about it. He did, however, check the collar pad and unhook the lead rope properly before rehooking it to the halter.

“And did you see how the trees need trimming?” Aaron turned to Gabe, waving his hands toward the direction of the cabins and the offending trees. “They look as if they’re taking over the cabins in places.”

The black gelding had been trying to catch Aaron’s attention, obviously searching for a treat. When Aaron didn’t respond, and when he moved toward the front to check the harness, the gelding gave him a slight nip.

“What was that for?” Aaron jumped back, shaking his hand up and down and checking for blood.

“I believe the horse would have appreciated a little more attention, rather like you’re saying the cabins need.” Gabe stepped forward as he searched in his jacket pocket. He came up with a few sugar cubes, which he kept for Chance. The gelding sniffed them twice before gently taking them in his teeth and crunching them contentedly.

Aaron sank back against the door of the horse stall.

“How bad did he get you?”

“Not that bad.” He stuck his hands in his pockets. “The way this day is going, I should have expected it.”

“So let me see if I have this right. You’re upset about the river flooding, the shutters falling off, the buildings needing paint, and the trees wanting trimming.”


Ya
.” Aaron’s voice sank even lower. “Among other things.”

“And which of those things did you expect a young woman like Lydia to have the resources to take care of?”

He waited for Aaron to answer, but the young man continued to stare at the horse’s hooves. Lydia’s horse finally reached forward and nudged his arm.

Gabe dug a few more sugar cubes out of his pocket and dropped them into Aaron’s hand. When Aaron held the cubes out to the horse, the treat immediately disappeared.

“Horses are spoiled here, same as at home.”


Ya
, that’s true.”

Gabe followed Aaron as he pulled the horse out into the last of the afternoon light. They both turned and faced the cabins. The setting sun cast light on the group of buildings, hiding most of the scars and leaving them in a charming glow.

The river continued to rush past, still pushing at its banks. As they watched, a crane flew down and plucked a fish from the steel-blue water. Gabe thought that this was a picture Grace would like to draw. Grace would see the beauty in it, but the young man beside
him could only see the work waiting beside the river and all that was lacking in the group of cabins.

What could he say to change his mind?

Perhaps that wasn’t his job.

It had taken Gabe some time to recognize the beauty in his own place, and yes, it had needed quite a lot of repair when he’d first bought it. Grace had described their place as the sad barn and the droopy house. He still had the pictures she’d drawn, which depicted the buildings quite accurately. Though she’d labeled them “sad” and “droopy,” her drawings had also highlighted the good aspects of their new home. She had that gift—of seeing the best in things and sharing it with others through her drawing.

It had taken him longer to be able to see past the despair.

After seventeen months most things had been repaired, but he was learning that Wisconsin winters were hard and springs unpredictable. The summers and falls, though? They were things of beauty.

Whether Aaron would stay long enough to learn those secrets was up to the young man and God.

The women joined them as Aaron hooked the horse up to the buggy and accepted the keys Lydia offered him without another word.

“This one is for the office. A pantry there has some food. It’s minimal as I had no reservations for the night and didn’t know you would be here.” Aaron nodded without commenting, so she continued. “The other key is for cabin four. Before your
onkel
bought the place, it was the manager’s cabin.” Without another word, she climbed into the buggy and called out to her gelding.

They stood and watched as she turned onto the two-lane blacktop.

Gabe offered to stay until Aaron was sure he had what he needed.

“No need.
Danki
for your help.”

“It was nice meeting you,” Miriam said.

“Same.”

“If you need anything, Lydia will know how to contact the bishop. His name is Atlee.” Gabe leaned in to the buggy where Miriam was
tending to the baby. After talking with her for a few moments, he ducked back out and spoke again to Aaron. “Miriam’s
bruder
lives on this section of Pebble Creek. His name is David King. Have Lydia contact him if you run into any unexpected problems.”

He thought the man wouldn’t speak, but then his hands came out of his pockets, and he pointed at the cabins as if Gabe should be able to see what he saw. “This…is all unexpected.”


Ya
. I suppose it is. Good night, then.”

They had barely begun moving when Grace opened up her bag of supplies and began sketching in the backseat of the buggy. Gabe glanced back at the cabins and saw Aaron once again shoulder his duffel bag.

Once they were home, Grace had no time to spend with her new drawing supplies. They had a quick dinner, and then she took care of her chores—which included caring for her mouse, Stanley, who now had a small family of his own. That being the case, he’d been moved to the barn.

She couldn’t blame Miriam. Most people wouldn’t want a family of mice living in the mudroom.

While she was in the barn she spent a little time with their new puppy, Hunter, brushing him and being sure he had fresh water and food in his bowl. He was a German shorthaired pointer. Hunter was the prettiest thing Grace had ever seen, next to her sister, Rachel. His floppy ears and snout were a warm chocolate brown. His tummy was chocolate too, but his body was sprinkled with black, brown, and white.

He was born from a litter that Pepper had fathered. Pepper was Miriam’s dog, and he had saved Grace’s life once, back when her voice was broken. She’d gone outside and managed to get lost in the worst snowstorm of the year, maybe of the century. Stanley had
escaped from his box, and somehow she’d caught the little mouse, which was a real miracle, but she couldn’t find her way back home. All she could do was hide under a tree in what became a snow cave. Petting Hunter, Grace thought about that snow cave and goose bumps popped out on her arms. She might have died in there, frozen with Stanley in her pocket, but she hadn’t. God had watched over her and sent Pepper. The hunting dog had found her, buried under the trees in the snow cave and barked and barked until the men he was guiding had dug her out and carried her home. It seemed to her that Pepper was pure angel, so probably Hunter was part angel.

Part angel and part puppy.

The part of Hunter that was angel was precious.

The part of him that was puppy was a mess. He would pounce on something and fall over. He’d try to eat from his bowl and step in it. He’d chase his tail until he was dizzy before falling into a heap on the ground. Puppies didn’t make much sense, but they were adorable.

She also had a kitten named Stormy. He wasn’t much of a kitten anymore. He had grown into a big tomcat who liked to chase things, especially Stanley if he had the chance.

Grace thought she was all done with her chores in the barn when she heard Gus knocking around in his stall. Gus loved Belle, Miriam’s horse, and Chance, her dad’s horse, but what Gus didn’t love was being alone in his stall. He was dark brown with a white muzzle and stood about as tall as Grace. She couldn’t help loving the little guy. He would be perfect for pulling a cart, and she was almost old enough to drive one. She ran her hand down his mane and scratched behind the tips of his ears, hoping that would settle him down.

Her dad had been right about Gus. Gabe hadn’t wanted the donkey at all. He’d warned her that donkeys were a lot of trouble, but their little donkey was still as cute as the day she’d first seen him at the benefit auction—the day she had begged her dad to enter the woodchopping contest. He’d won too, which still surprised her. After all, he was somewhat old, but he’d chopped wood faster than the younger men. He had been determined that day.

All for a donkey he didn’t want. She would probably never understand grown-ups.

By the time she was finished in the barn, she was more than ready to crawl into bed, but then she heard her little sister making baby noises in the sitting room. How could she ignore that?

“It seems as if she’s growing every day,” Grace whispered as she leaned over the cradle and kissed Rachel good night.

The baby stretched, tiny arms reaching over her head. She gazed at Grace and popped the corner of her small right fist in her mouth.

“You used to suck on your fist,” Gabe said.

“I did?”

“Don’t you remember?”


Dat
. I can’t remember that long ago.”

“Oh. I thought you remembered everything.”

Grace rolled her eyes, walked around the cradle, and gave her dad a big hug anyway. He might be the silliest person she knew, but he also smelled just right and his arms around her felt
wunderbaar
.

“Want me to come and tuck you in?”

“I’m nine,
dat
. I don’t need tucking in.”

“Oh.” Gabe tugged at his beard, looking confused.

“Miriam can come, though.”

Miriam smiled as she set aside the quilt top she was working on. “Gabe Miller, it sounds to me like you have
boppli
duty.”

“Oh.”

Grace had noticed he said “oh” a lot lately, as if it was the one word that came to mind.

“Can you handle it?” Miriam asked.


Ya
. Is her diaper clean?”

“It was last time I checked. You’ll smell it if conditions change.”

Gabe groaned, which made Grace giggle. When Rachel soiled a diaper, the smell was worse than a dirty stall.

“Grace and I are going to have a little girl time.” Miriam picked up one of the gas lanterns sitting on the side table.

“Good night,
dat
.”

“Good night, Gracie.”

Grace sighed as she slid her hand into Miriam’s and they headed toward her bedroom. She’d been worried when Rachel was born that Miriam might not have time for her anymore. When Miriam was her teacher, she used to dream about one day having a new mother. Dreaming was all she did, because praying for it seemed like asking God for too much.

Then Miriam and her dad married, and for a while Grace felt as though she were walking an inch off the ground. She had a whole family again, complete with another set of grandparents here in Wisconsin.

The hitch was she didn’t know if she should call Miriam her
mamm
or not. After all, she had a
mamm
in heaven. When she’d confessed her worries to her dad and Miriam, they had both told her a name didn’t matter as much as a person’s heart. And they both knew she loved Miriam as much as her dad loved her.

As much as Miriam loved them.

What mattered was that they were a family.

So Grace still called her Miriam, though sometimes lately in her head she said
mamm
, and in her heart she was starting to feel okay about using that word.

“Did you have a
gut
day?” Miriam asked as she pulled back the bedcovers.


Ya
.”

“You found the supplies you wanted at the store.”

“They’re perfect.” Grace climbed into her bed and pulled the covers up to her chin. It wasn’t cold, but the covers made her feel nice and sleepy.

BOOK: A Home for Lydia (The Pebble Creek Amish Series)
7.56Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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