A Wedding for Julia (6 page)

Slipping between the barn and the kitchen door, fall leaves crunching beneath her feet, Sharon didn’t want to even think about spending another winter on the remote farm in Indiana. She had to find a way to get to the city. It seemed James was willing to take her there.

“Wash up,” her mother said when she tried to quietly take her place at the table.

Eight sets of eyes stared at her—five younger brothers and her baby sister, plus her parents. Sharon bit back the retort she had washed her hands before coming in the house, which she had—in town. There was no sense in arguing, though. It was easier to do as her mother asked.

After she’d sat down again, they all bowed their head for grace. Sharon found herself thanking God for James and his 1972 Ford truck which might or might not make it to Indianapolis. She tried to think of something else to be grateful for, but she couldn’t. Was that bad?

Dishes rattled and she realized she was the only one still praying.

Her brothers ranged in age from seven to fifteen. Jonas, the oldest, was now working with her
dat
in the fields because he was finished with school. How did he stand it? Didn’t he want more? Obviously not, by the way he talked constantly about crops and animals and manure.

Sharon stole a glance at the phone in her pocket, which turned out to be her fatal error.

“That’s pretty,” Ruthie said. “Can I see, Sharon?” She dropped her spoon against her plate and attempted to reach for the phone.

Sharon’s mother sent her a warning look and the conversation between her
dat
and Jonas stopped.

“Sharon, what is that you’re fiddling with?”

Heat began to creep up her neck. She wouldn’t lie to her father, but she didn’t want a confrontation, either.

“Ruthie needs more milk.” Sharon’s mother was good at running interference. “I’ll get it.”

“I asked you a question.” Norman stared at Sharon, waiting for an answer. Silence fell on the table like a cloth they might use to cover it with if company were coming.

“It was my phone,
dat
. I’m sorry.”

Norman closed his eyes for a few seconds, a sure sign he was attempting to control his temper. “I have told you I will not abide those things in our home.”

“I know. I meant to leave it in the barn, but I forgot.”

“You forgot.”

“I was in a hurry because I was late, and—”

“Forgetting is not an excuse for disrespecting the rules of this house, the rules of our faith.”

“Those rules don’t even make any sense!”

“Do not raise your voice to me.” Norman’s palm came down and slapped the table.

When Sharon had been a young girl such a display of authority would have sent her scurrying. Now it made her sad. If he weren’t careful, he would break the old rickety table, and then they would need another.

“Hand me the phone.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Hand me the phone.”

“
Mamm
—”

“Do as your father says, Sharon.”

Sliding her hand into her pocket, she pulled out the small, sleek, blue mobile device—her one connection with the outside world. Standing, she walked around the table and placed it in her father’s outstretched hand.

“Tomorrow I will return this to the store where it belongs. You need to focus on other things,
dochder
. On the things that matter.” Pushing back from the table, Norman stood and trudged out of the room.

Would he take her phone back to town? Or would he leave it in the barn, tucked away on some bale of hay?

Either way, she was trapped.

Chapter 6

C
aleb stood beside Aaron, holding the board steady as David hammered it into place. He’d awakened the next morning to the sound of hammering and had been instantly caught up in the building project—one of the drawbacks of living on Aaron’s property.

Normally he was off on Sunday and Monday, but someone at the grocery had needed to change shifts. He was off today instead, and he usually spent his off days down by the creek.

Didn’t work out that way this morning.

Since Aaron and Lydia had taken over the cabins, they had become quite the success. When Caleb moved to Wisconsin, he’d planned on looking for a place to rent until he could decide where or if he wanted to purchase land. Aaron had admitted they could use a night watchman on the property.

“Watchman” was a loosely used term. Caleb didn’t watch much. He did a final walk around the cabins and office buildings before retiring each night. If the guests had a problem, a sign on the office door directed them to his room, which Aaron had built on to the back of the barn. It was snug enough in the winter with the stove they had added, and the summers were perfect.

The cabins had continued to increase in popularity until they were full nearly every night, except for Sunday and Monday evenings when they were closed. On Sundays Lydia and Aaron weren’t actually on the property, but guests were often still about from Saturday evening. Lydia made sure they had paid the night before and left them fresh bread, coffee, and juice in the main office. All Caleb had to do was unlock the door.

Today’s project involved the building where Aaron and Lydia sold goods from area families. The sign above the door said “Plain Shop.”

Aaron had added it to the property when he took over the cabins, but it had become something of a problem. Basically, it was too small and did too much business. It was always crowded, and there wasn’t enough room to keep the stock they needed to display.

“When we put this up a year ago, we had no idea so many people would want to sell their goods here.” Aaron stepped away and swiped at the sweat running down his face.

“
Ya
, if we’d known that we would have built it bigger to begin with.” David slipped his hammer into his tool belt. “I thought you were a little
narrisch
, building a store on the property when you couldn’t even attract an overnight guest.”

All three men turned and looked at the full parking lot and guests spilling from the cabins.

“
Gotte
is
gut
,” Aaron declared, picking up another board.

“That He is.” David walked over to the jug of water Lydia had left and poured himself a glass. Downing it in one long drink, he ran the back of his hand across his mouth.

Seeing Lydia walk toward the shop, Caleb hollered out, “Sorry I was late with the groceries last night.”

“No problem.”

“Explain to me why you would be late,” David said. “You’re always on time, much like the
Englisch
trains.”

Aaron laughed. “It’s a woman’s fault.”

“It’s always a woman’s fault,” Caleb muttered.

“I heard that.” Lydia waddled into the front door of the shop and turned the sign from “Closed” to “Open.” Aaron’s wife was far along in her pregnancy, and Caleb was surprised she still insisted on coming to work each day at the cabins. “What is our fault this time?”

Caleb closed his mouth and studied the board they had just finished nailing into place.

“We were saying it’s your fault the cabins are doing so well.” Aaron’s grin widened as he lifted another board. The room they were adding to the shop would more than double the size.

“‘Fault’ would be an unusual choice of words in that case.” Lydia walked back out on the porch and crossed her arms as she surveyed their work. “You’re all doing a nice job, so I’ll forgive any intended insult. And as I have no customers yet, I believe I’ll go help my
schweschder
serve breakfast to our guests.”

When she was out of earshot, David said, “Before she returns, catch me up. It’s obvious you’re too shy to talk around her.”

“It’s not that,” Caleb said. “There’s nothing to tell, is all.”

“Nothing to tell? When have you ever been late returning home? Usually you’re here early so you can put a line in the creek before dark.” Aaron’s laughter was as clear as the ring of David’s hammer against the nail.

“You were late because of…”

“Julia.” Aaron nudged Caleb with another board. “Julia Beechy.”

David let out a low whistle. “She’s a nice-looking woman and available for sure, but I wasn’t aware she was dating. In fact, it’s been a very long time since Julia has shared a buggy ride for the purpose of courting.”

“It wasn’t Julia who caused me to be late. Not exactly. It was the conversation we had, which made me stay longer than normal. Plus I was distracted, so I drove past the cabins a few miles before I realized I needed to turn around.”

“Must have been some conversation.”

“Wait until you hear the details.” Aaron’s grin grew even broader.

Caleb couldn’t fault him. He’d known Aaron since he was a young boy, tagging along behind as Caleb and Aaron’s older cousin had gone fishing and hunting. Aaron was too good-natured to hold a grudge against, though he did seem to be enjoying Caleb’s misery this morning.

He proceeded to fill in David as they worked, though Caleb corrected him once or twice on minor details.

“So Ada is going to sell the place?” David shook his head. “I guess I should say the rest of the place. Most of it already went to the Elliotts. Real shame. Julia grew up here. We went to school together. Moving will be hard, I suspect.”

“
Ya
, and all because she isn’t married.” Caleb had picked up a hammer and drove the nail a little harder than necessary.

“I told Caleb he should pop the question.”

“That’s not funny, Aaron.”

“I wasn’t being funny, my
freind
. I was serious.”

“Which isn’t funny.”

David held up his hands to stop the two. “If I didn’t know you were friends from your youth, I would think you were
bruders
the way you argue sometimes.”

“Actually, I was closer to Aaron’s older cousin. Matthew was two years younger than me. Our parents’ farms shared a property line, so we spent a lot of time together. Aaron was a little guy who visited often and insisted on following us around all the time.” Caleb climbed the ladder and began working on the roof of the addition.

“I thought you were the oldest cousin.” David passed materials up to Caleb as he spoke to Aaron. “You told me that’s why you had to come to Indiana to help with the cabins, because you were the oldest.”

“I might have said that, but I meant the oldest
unmarried
cousin.”

“And look who’s married now,” Caleb said, laughing.

“Yes, I am, and I’m telling you that married life is pretty nice. You should consider it.”

“I don’t even know her.”

They all paused at that. Aaron picking up a board, David with his hammer back and nail in place, and Caleb perched on the roof.

David was the one who broke the silence.

“That’s probably true of most married people. You don’t truly know someone until you share your mornings and your nights with them.” He shook his head and began hammering again. “I thought I knew Anna when we married, but I didn’t. I’m not saying marriage is something you should rush into. Aaron’s idea is radical and a thing you would need to pray about, but the truth? No one can completely know another person until they’ve shared their life.”