A Simple Autumn: A Seasons of Lancaster Novel (38 page)

Meanwhile, Jonah watched the rear to be sure the calf was in the right position. Just
about thirty minutes after the hooves had emerged, he caught sight of the head.

“I see the calf’s nose coming out … and its tongue.” He laughed. “A lot of very pink
tongue.”

“That’s good?”

“It’s in the right position. A few pushes and it’ll be out.”

“Good.” Annie clapped her hands together. “Okay, Buttercup. Your little one is coming.
Just keep pushing! That’s all you need to do.”

He grinned, enjoying Annie’s enthusiastic sermon for the cow.

The shiny black calf continued to emerge as Buttercup pushed. Within minutes Jonah
saw the full head, the curved body, the long, slick back. “Almost done,” he called
to Annie. “Only the rear hooves are left.”

With that, Buttercup lifted her big head, swung round to look behind her, and gave
one final push. The black calf was completely out, sprawled on its side in the hay.

Another miracle.

Although Jonah had witnessed this process before, sheer amazement still overcame him
at the sight of a new life coming awake in the hay.

Immediately, Buttercup got to her feet. Jonah stepped back as she came around and
vigorously licked the calf.

“Such a sweet little thing. And look at how she’s mothering it already,” Annie said,
touching his arm. He covered her hand with his, and together they watched as the mother
cow very thoroughly licked her newborn calf.

Within a minute or two, the calf was trying to stand on its spindly legs.

“It’s trying to walk,” Annie said.

“They’re quick learners. People, we take a year to learn what they do in three minutes.”
As Jonah spoke, the little calf walked and stumbled, moving dangerously close to the
edge of the creek.

“Oh, stop him!” Annie cried. “What if he falls over the side?”

“Hey, little one. You don’t want to go down there.” Jonah hustled
over to the edge of the ditch, making himself a barrier between the creek and the
calf. “That water must be freezing tonight.”

The calf came barreling his way, stumbling against his legs. He caught it firmly and
carried it away from the edge, back to its mother.

“It should start on the teat now,” he said, helping the calf find Buttercup’s udder.
“It’s good to get them going in the first hour when the sucking instinct is strong,
and the early milk is good for them.”

While he helped guide the calf to nurse, Annie fetched the iodine and slathered it
onto the cord. Then they both stood back and watched as the calf fed.

“It’s a miracle,” Annie said. “I’ve seen puppies and sheep born, and it’s always a
wonder.”

Jonah nodded. “The second miracle tonight.” He slipped an arm around Annie’s shoulders
and held her close. “You were the first one.”

“Not me.” She slid her arms around his waist and pressed her face to his chest. “Gott’s
love is the real miracle.”

She was right. With a deep breath, he held her close, thanking the Heavenly Father
with all his heart.

After a few minutes of contented feeding, the calf scampered away.

“We need to get this one in a pen before he takes a very cold swim,” Jonah said, lifting
the calf into his arms. “We can get them back to the calving shed now, out of the
wind. If we take the calf in the cart, Buttercup will follow.”

“How are we going to keep that little one from jumping right out of the cart?” Annie
asked.

“I’ll hold him.”

The calf was probably only seventy pounds or so, but the spindly thing was awkward,
as if it wasn’t sure if it should nuzzle Jonah or squirm to escape. He lifted the
creature into the back of the wagon,
climbed up, then cradled it in his arms, making sure the hooves were up so that it
couldn’t get traction.

As he sat in the back of the cart, the newborn calf trembling in his arms, Jonah took
in the farm and the night sky and the stars with a grateful sigh. The fields sparkled
in the moonlight, as if the angels had painted each chopped stubble of hay with glittering
silver paint. In this moment, with Annie driving them along the path and this baby
creature in his arms, he felt sure that he was the happiest man on Gott’s earth.

A Bible verse came to him, and it seemed a fitting prayer for the moment.
The Lord is my shepherd. I shall not want
.

Two miracles in one night.

Ya, he was a happy man. And with Annie by his side, he would never want again.

T
he whir of bike engines screamed along the country road as Gabe and Blake headed toward
a wooded area near the King farm. After weeks of riding on the course and the trails
near Blake’s house, Gabe was getting bored with that area.

“I’d like to try something different,” he’d told Blake earlier as they’d rolled two
motorcycles out of Blake’s garage.

“You are, man. That new bike you’re on has great tracking and improved linkage. I
think you’re going to like it.”

“Yeah, it looks good.” Gabe looked down at the new bike—a small motorcycle. With practice,
he had worked his way up from the smaller bikes, and now he could handle the real
thing. “But I was thinking of trying it out down the road, on a new trail.”

“I’m up for something new. What are you thinking of?” Blake had asked. When Gabe told
him about the wooded area in the back acres of his family’s farm, Blake had been game.

It was an off Sunday in November, and Gabe had been eager to get away from the farm,
where all the talk was about the preparation
for the big double wedding. Gabe didn’t mind doing his part, scrubbing down walls
or clearing out the barn. But he didn’t get too excited about all the fanfare … the
details of how many different types of cookies to bake or where all the horses and
carriages would be stored during the wedding.

Today, it was just Blake and him on the bikes. For the last few weeks, Ben had bowed
out because of plans with his new girl, Hannah Stoltzfus. Henpecked, that was what
Ben was, giving up motorbikes for a girl. Gabe understood the lure, but he was sticking
to his choice. He loved Emma, but he wasn’t about to let her make his decisions for
him.

Even without Ben, Gabe enjoyed riding with Blake. Sometimes he got a laugh when he
passed Amish buggies on the road … like the one up ahead. The couple in the front
seat and the little children in the back turned and stared at him. They were probably
surprised to see a young man dressed Plain on a bike. And with the red helmet covering
his entire head, Gabe was pretty sure they didn’t recognize him.

That made him grin—speeding past the carriage with ease as the folks in the carriage
wondered who that Amish wild man was.

It was sort of strange, being on the road but so low to the ground. Still, he loved
the speed of the motorbikes. Amish folk just didn’t understand the powerful feeling
of having a wailing engine between your legs. Gabe revved the engine and grinned as
the bike shot forward.

This was how a man should get around.

When they got to the access road that led to the woods on his family’s property, Gabe
signaled to turn right and Blake followed. As they shifted gears, the two bikes let
out dual whines that must have cut straight across the open fields to the Kings’ farmhouse.
It made Gabe feel like a real daredevil, riding so close to home. He wouldn’t
have dared to do this weeks ago, but back then it had been a thrill just to learn
to ride the bikes.

Gabe rolled to a stop and pointed out the entrance to two different trails. Blake
decided to take the one on the right, and Gabe decided to take the one on the left,
knowing both trails met at the edge of the woods in one of the back fields. With a
burst of the throttle, he was on his way.

The bright colors that had painted the trees when he had begun riding the motorbikes
had given way to bare gray bones. Gray and brown were now the main colors of the woods.

Kind of glum.

Or maybe that was just his mood since Emma had chased him away from her house last
weekend without even trying the motorbike. He hadn’t been sure she would go for a
ride, but he had expected her to be happy to see him.

He’d been wrong. Emma had been so furious about him bringing the motorbike, he wasn’t
sure she’d actually gotten a look at him at all.

All the rain had softened the hard-packed trail, and as Gabe hit a wet patch the rear
wheel spun, sending mud splattering behind him. His pants would be pretty dirty by
the time the afternoon was over.

Trying to keep out of the soft mud, he kept to the edges of the path, thinking that
he probably hadn’t been out in these woods in the last year.

He saw the dark figure coming before he heard it: a tall draft horse with a rider
dressed in black. Gabe pulled off the path and waited behind a tree as the horse and
rider approached.

An Amish man on a huge horse.

As it galloped closer, he recognized the rider—his brother Adam.

Thunder’s hooves pounded the moist earth, sending dirt spraying in his wake. Adam
was a seasoned rider, and he moved as if one with the horse.

Like one iron muscle.

Gabe felt like a small woodland creature as he looked up at the towering horse, the
earth vibrating beneath his boots. The horse roared past.

Now, that was true power and strength.

Gabe looked down at the shiny motorcycle, then burst out laughing.

Really? Did he really think a small, whining bike made him look like a strong man?
He had started riding bikes because he wanted to feel like a man. He wanted power
and speed. The bikes gave him that, along with a sense that he was escaping from his
life, tearing away from the strict, orderly rules of the Amish.

But today he had seen his brother moving down the trail with more speed and power
than any of these little bikes could summon. There was no match for real horsepower.

He squeezed the handlebar grips, suddenly missing the feel of reins in his hands.
His horse was waiting for him, along with his buggy.

This motorcycle, with its bright red paint and shiny silver pipes … this was not what
Gott intended for a man. Why hadn’t he seen that before? Still laughing, he turned
the bike around on the trail and headed off to meet Blake.

And as he motored down the trail, he remembered the first time Dat had let him drive
a buggy. He had been only five or six, coming home from a horse auction. Gabe remembered
the excitement that fluttered in his belly when Dat let him hold the reins all by
himself.

“Not too tight now. Give him a little slack. There you go.” Dat’s words had eased
him through the moment, scary and exciting all at the same time. And Gabe had felt
a new awareness of the movement of the buggy, the tug of the horse in front of him,
the curve of the road ahead. Lots of things to think about, but he could do it. He
wanted to learn to handle the horse like a man.

So many years ago, Dat had started him in the right direction. A knot of emotion grew
in Gabe’s throat at the memory of Dat’s patient voice. He wondered how he could have
forgotten his first lesson from Dat with a buggy. It worried him that Mamm and Dat
were fading from their lives—gone before half the kids in the family had even gotten
baptized.

But we’re on the right path
, Gabe thought. Mamm and Dat had made sure of that.

By the time he met Blake, Gabe was grateful for the tinted visor, glad to have something
to mask the tears in his eyes.

T
here was a chill in the night air, November’s warning that autumn would end soon.
Jonah took one last look at the barn and imagined all the folks who would come through
here tomorrow. Hundreds of people would pass through these doors, all here to celebrate
the weddings of Adam and Remy, Five and Mary.

Reassured that all was ready, he took the kerosene lamp down from its hook and closed
the door. A silvery ring glistened around the moon. Up on the road, twin white lights
moved slowly. When the car turned down their lane, he was curious for a second, then
smiled.

It was probably sister Sadie, back for the wedding.

He quickened his pace, wanting to greet her before she walked into the dark house.
The word was that she wouldn’t arrive until morning, so everyone else was asleep.

As the car pulled up on the side of the house, Jonah hurried down the path from the
barn. The passenger door opened, and two people stepped out. As the trunk of the little
car popped open, Jonah recognized Sadie and her boyfriend, Mike Trueherz.

He held up the lantern. “Hello? Is that my long-lost sister?” he called.

Sadie whirled around, her loose brown hair swinging around her shoulders. “Jonah?”
She dropped her satchel and came running to give him a hug.