Allison's Journey (3 page)

“Sure, that’ll be fine.” Gabe moved away from the desk. “Guess I should get on home. Melinda and I are planning to go to Seymour later today. We want to see if the owner of the bed-and-breakfast needs more of her drawings or some of my handcrafted wooden items for his gift shop.”

“See you Sunday morning at church, then. It’s to be held at the Kings’ place, right?”

“Jah.” Gabe started for the door. “Maybe we can get a game of baseball going after the common meal,” he called over his shoulder.

Aaron nodded. “Sounds like fun.”

The door clicked shut behind Gabe, and Aaron headed to the back room to dye some leather strips. After that, he had a saddle to clean. Maybe if he finished up early, he’d have time to get in a little fishing. At least that was something to look forward to—that and a good game of baseball on Sunday afternoon.

A
llison stared vacantly out the window at the passing scenery as the bus took her farther from home and all that was familiar. She would be gone three whole months, living with relatives she didn’t really know, in a part of the country she’d never seen before—all because Papa thought she needed to learn to be more feminine while she learned domestic chores.

Allison glanced at the canvas bag by her feet. Inside was the book Sally had given her, as well as some of Aunt Catherine’s peanut brittle, which she planned to give Aunt Mary and her family. Allison’s faceless doll was also in the bag. She’d had it since she was a little girl. Papa said Mama had made it, but Allison didn’t remember receiving the doll. All her memories of Mama were vague. She’d been only seven when Mama died. Papa said a car had hit Mama’s buggy when she’d pulled out of their driveway one morning. Allison had supposedly witnessed
the accident, but she had no memory of it. All these years, she’d clung to the bedraggled, faceless doll, knowing it was her only link to the mother she’d barely known. Allison had named the doll Martha, after Mama.

Allison reached down and plucked the cloth doll from the canvas satchel. Its arms had come loose long ago and had been pinned in place. Its legs hung by a couple of threads. Its blue dress and small white kapp were worn and faded. “Mama,” she murmured against the doll’s head. “Why did you have to leave me? If only I could remember your face.”

Allison was sure if her mother were still alive, she would have mended the faceless doll. Whenever Allison had mentioned the doll to Aunt Catherine, the crotchety woman had said she was too busy to be bothered with something as unimportant as an old doll. But even if Aunt Catherine had been willing to fix the doll, she’d admitted the other day that she couldn’t sew well.

As Allison continued to study her doll, she noticed a spot of dirt on its faceless face and realized that she felt as faceless and neglected as tattered old Martha. Tears blurred Allison’s vision and trickled down her hot cheeks.
My life has no real purpose. I have no goals or plans for the future. I’m just drifting along like a boat with no oars. I have no mother, and Aunt Catherine doesn’t love me. She doesn’t care about anyone but herself
.

Allison had spent most of her life trying to stay out of Aunt Catherine’s way rather than trying to learn how to run a home. Maybe a few months of separation would be good for both of them. Aunt Catherine would probably be happier with Allison gone.

More tears dribbled down Allison’s cheeks.
I’ve never been to Missouri before. What will Aunt Mary and her family be like? Will
I make any new friends there? Oh, Sally, I miss you already
.

Allison returned her doll to the satchel and reached for the book Sally had given her. If she kept her mind busy reading, maybe she wouldn’t feel so sad.

“Did you get Allison put on the bus okay?” Catherine asked Herman as he stepped onto the porch. She was shelling a batch of peas from the garden.

He nodded and took a seat beside her. “It was sure hard to see her go.”

“Then why’d you buy that bus ticket for her birthday?”

“You know why, Catherine. I want Allison to have the chance to know her aunt Mary better and to learn to cook, sew, and keep house.”

“Humph! She could have learned those things from me if she’d been willing to listen.”
Plink. Plinkety-plink
. Catherine dropped several more peas into the bowl braced between her knees.

“You don’t sew very well; you said so yourself.” Herman pulled at a loose thread on his shirt. “Let’s face facts, Catherine. You and Allison have never hit it off. I believe that’s why she hasn’t learned as much as she should have under your teaching.”

“And you think she’ll take to her aunt Mary better than me?”

“I’m hoping she does.” Herman gave his beard a quick pull. “I’m also hoping Mary relates so well to Allison that she’ll want to give up her tomboy ways and become a woman.”

“Jah, well, I could have related better to the girl if she hadn’t been so set on doing things her own way.” Catherine gave an
undignified grunt. “Never did understand why Allison preferred to be outside doing chores with the boys when she should have been in the house learning to cook and clean.”

“It might have helped if you’d been willing to let Allison try her hand at cooking more.”

“I didn’t like the messes she made.” Catherine shrugged. “Besides, it’s quicker and neater if I do the cooking myself.”

Herman leaned heavily against the chair and closed his eyes. The morning sun felt warm and helped soothe his jangled nerves. He hadn’t wanted to send Allison away. It had nearly broken his heart to see his only daughter board that bus, knowing she would be gone for three whole months and might even decide to stay in Missouri if she liked it there. But watching Allison turn into a tomboy and realizing that if she didn’t learn some womanly things she would never find a man to marry had made Herman decide it was time for a change. If Allison stayed in Pennsylvania under the tutelage of his sister, she would never learn the skills of a good homemaker.

Herman grasped the arms of the chair and clenched his fingers. That was another reason he’d sent Allison to Missouri. She needed some time away from Catherine. He’d seen how frustrated she’d become the last few years, having to deal with his cantankerous sister. He’d even thought about asking Catherine to leave, but she’d been with them so long and really had no place else to go. His and Catherine’s folks had been dead a good many years, and their siblings, who used to live in Ohio near Catherine, had moved to a newly established community in Wisconsin. Since Catherine had never married, Herman felt responsible for her. After his wife’s death, he figured Catherine felt responsible for him and the children, too.

“Are you sleeping?”

Herman’s eyes snapped open. “Uh. . .no. Just thinking, is all.”

Catherine lifted the bowl of peas into her arms and stood. “Jah, well, you can sit out here and think all you like. I need to get inside and start fixing our meal.”

Herman nodded. “Call me when it’s ready.”

With a weary sigh, Allison reached for her canvas tote and stood. It had taken a day and a half to get from Lancaster, Pennsylvania, to Springfield, Missouri. From Springfield, the bus had headed to the small town of Seymour, where someone was supposed to pick her up at Lazy Lee’s Gas Station. Allison had slept some on the bus, but the seats weren’t comfortable, and there wasn’t much leg room. She hadn’t rested nearly as well as she would have in her own bed.

Allison glanced down at her dark blue dress. It was wrinkled and in need of washing. She knew she must look a mess. Unfortunately, there was nothing she could do about that now, for the bus had just pulled into Lazy Lee’s parking lot.

Allison gathered up her satchel and stepped off the bus. She spotted a young Amish man with red hair standing beside an open buggy on the other side of the building. When he started toward her, she noticed his deeply set blue eyes and face full of freckles.

“You must be Allison,” he said with a lopsided grin.

She nodded. “Jah, I am.”

“I’m your cousin, Harvey King.” He motioned to the suitcases being taken from the luggage compartment in the side of
the bus. “Show me which one is yours, and I’ll put it in the buggy for you.”

Allison pointed to a black canvas suitcase, and Harvey hoisted it and her small satchel into the back of his open buggy. Then he helped Allison into the passenger’s side, took his own place, and gathered up the reins.

“My mamm will sure be glad to see you,” he said as they pulled out of the parking lot. “Ever since your daed phoned and said you were coming, she’s been bustling around the house doing all sorts of things to get ready for your arrival. She hasn’t seen you since you were a little girl. I’ll bet she’ll be surprised to see how much you’ve grown.”

Allison smiled. “Is your telephone outside in a shed?”

Harvey shook his head. “No, but they have one at the harness shop. From what I was told, your daed and Paul Hilty know each other from when Paul worked in his cousin’s harness shop in Pennsylvania. Since Uncle Herman knew Paul had put a phone in at the shop, he called there and asked Paul to get the message to us that you were coming to visit for the summer.”

“Ah, I see.”

“I hope you don’t mind a little detour, but I need to stop by the harness shop before we go home,” Harvey said. “I would have done it on my way to Seymour, but I got a late start and didn’t want to miss your bus.”

“I don’t mind stopping,” Allison assured him. “I’ve been sitting on that bus so long, it will feel good to get out and move around.”

“I figured you’d probably just want to wait in the buggy while I ran in and picked up my daed’s new harness. But if you’d like to go into the shop or walk around outside the place,
that’s fine by me.”

She nodded. “I like the smell of leather, so I think I’ll go inside with you.”

Harvey cast her a sidelong glance but made no comment. He probably figured she was strange for liking the smell of leather. He’d probably think she was even stranger if he knew all the tomboy things she liked to do.

“Are you finished pressing those rivets into that harness yet, Aaron?” Paul called from the front of the shop. “Ben King said his son would be over sometime today to pick it up, and it should have been ready this morning.”

Aaron frowned. Why did his stepfather always have to check up on him? Did Paul think he was incapable of getting the job done on time? He clenched his teeth to keep from offering an unkind retort. Truth was, when Paul first came to Webster County for his brother’s funeral and had stayed to help Mom in the harness shop, Aaron had resented Paul. He’d been worried that Paul wanted to marry his mother and take over the harness shop. Then when Paul had rescued Aaron from the top rung of the silo ladder, he and Paul had established a pretty good relationship. Paul had eventually married Aaron’s mother, and things had remained fine between them—until recently, that is. For some reason, ever since Aaron had become a man, Paul had become kind of bossy, and for the last few months, he’d started talking to Aaron like he was a child again.

“Aaron, did you hear what I said?” Paul called, pulling Aaron’s thoughts aside.

“I heard. The harness is almost done.”

“Good, because I see Harvey pulling up outside.”