Autumn Winds (4 page)

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Authors: Charlotte Hubbard

Tags: #Fiction, #Religious, #Christian, #Romance, #Amish & Mennonite

BOOK: Autumn Winds
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“How’d ya know our window was broken?” Rhoda blurted. “And—and how’d ya know my
mamm
’s name?”
Oh, that wasn’t a
gut
way to impress this fella
, she chided herself.
You’re soundin’ as silly as a girl about twelve years old.
As he deftly popped the tacks out of the blue tarp with his claw hammer, he smiled as though he knew things he wasn’t telling. “Just happened by the right place at the right time, I suppose. I’m only doin’ what any fella would, after seein’ how a tree limb had crashed through the café’s window.”
“So that’s your tarp, too?
Denki
for helpin’ us, by the way.”
The fellow looked at her with another one of those friendly yet . . . secret smiles. If he were female, she’d think of it as a kitty-cat grin like Rachel was so good at hiding behind. But this was no girl she was standing beside.
“Your
mamm
told me where to find it. Stand aside now—and ya might want to tell anybody inside I’m about to break out the rest of this jagged glass.”
Rhoda stepped inside as he’d told her to and headed straight for the kitchen. “Well, Mamma, your little
secret
’s come back!” she announced, as much to Naomi and Rachel as to her mother. “And he called ya by name! He’s out front now, fixin’ that window! Takin’ down the tarp ya told him to fetch from Dat’s shop!”
She planted her hands on her hips, noting the way Mamma’s blush spread up her neck and all over her face—as well it should! “And just what were ya doin’ here alone with this fella, in the wee hours, while we were still sleepin’, Mamma?”
Chapter 4
Miriam’s heartbeat took off like a shot. Ben was back! And while she wanted to rush out front to see what he was doing and how he was feeling now, her daughter’s unspoken accusations rang in the kitchen. And it wasn’t as if Naomi or Rachel were going to stop staring at her until she answered.
Her lips twitched with a grin even though it was clear Rhoda wanted to whip up a scandalous situation. “Ben Hooley happened along in the thick of that storm—”
“Oh, it’s
Ben
, is it?” Rhoda interrupted. “He wasn’t sharin’ his name with me.”
“—and after his horse spooked and kicked him in the chest—”
“Probably so, considerin’ how it wasn’t fit weather for neither man nor beast!”
“—he was kind enough to put up that tarp from your
dat
’s shop, to keep more rain and broken glass from blowin’ in.” Miriam cleared her throat, determined not to let Rhoda’s tone upset her. “And this was after he hefted that tree limb out of the café. It was better than gettin’ Micah out of bed at that hour, ain’t so? And certainly better than tryin’ to do such things myself—not that I could reach the top of that window.
Now
,” Miriam said, mimicking Rhoda’s assertive stance, “what else do ya want to know?”
Rhoda’s face curdled, an expression Miriam recalled from when this daughter had been challenged as a child and didn’t much like it. “What I want to know,” she echoed in a rising voice, “is why you’re gettin’ so sticky-sweet on a fella who’s young enough to be your”—she threw up her arms in exasperation—“well, he’s
my
age, Mamma! Ya don’t know a thing about him, but he’s already got ya blushin’ like a bride!”
Rhoda had said a mouthful there, hadn’t she? Miriam felt a little stunned at how she must be wearing her heart on her sleeve, if Rhoda had picked up on so much from just talking with Ben for a few minutes. But there was a limit to how many questions a mother had to answer . . . and to how much sass she could take.
“Don’t be so sure about that age difference, missy,” Miriam replied in a tight voice. “Right now you’re actin’ about twelve. Readin’ wayyyy too much into a
gut
-hearted fella helpin’ us out—after he got himself kicked, no less.”
To see how this response was going over, Miriam glanced at Rachel and Naomi. Their eyes were wide, but they were staying out of it—and rightly so! Some of the regulars—like Naomi’s boys, Seth and Aaron, and her sister Leah’s sons, Nate and Bram—were coming in to eat, and they were bringing Ben Hooley with them, already chatting him up the way men did. So she relaxed. No sense in letting anyone else see the two of them going nose to nose.
“It’s time to load up the buffet table,” Miriam said, nodding toward the fellows coming inside. “We’ll take up this conversation later.”
Rhoda’s impatient sigh told her they
would
be having more of this talk, and that she’d better have her answers ready. Her girls knew to set aside the personal stuff when they waited tables, because the men settling into those chairs out front had no time to waste before they went to their day’s work. Naomi was filling a metal steam table pan with crispy bacon, so Miriam grabbed a big basket and filled it with fresh, warm pumpkin-blueberry muffins. There was nothing better than getting into the café’s routine to smooth over ruffled feathers.
“How are ya this mornin’, boys?” Miriam asked her nephews, Nate and Bram Kanagy. “Will your
mamm
have a wagonload of veggies for us later?”
“
Jah
—yams and acorn squash,” Bram replied. “She’s been diggin’ lots of potatoes, too.”
“And pickin’ apples!” his younger brother, Nate, crowed as he removed his hat. “Between your apple trees and ours, the orchard’s puttin’ out the most fruit we’ve seen in a long while.”
“And they’re nice and firm, too,” Miriam said as she picked up a carafe of coffee. “I made apple crisp for the lunch buffet, and we’ll no doubt have some apple walnut coffee cake for tomorrow mornin’.”
“No pies?” Micah had settled at his usual table with his two brothers, and had invited Ben Hooley to sit with them.
“When have ya ever come here and not had pie?” Miriam teased. Then she smiled at Ben, who looked right at home amongst these younger locals. “These boys belong to my cookin’ partner, Naomi. Their
mamm
’s here workin’ early every mornin’, so we feed Seth and Micah and Aaron before they open their cabinet shop.”
“And ya still turn a profit?” Ben’s eyes glimmered . . . an interesting shade of golden-brown they were, now that it was daylight. “Looks to me like this bunch could clean ya out before anybody else had a chance to eat and pay ya for it!”
“We do our best!” young Aaron said with a laugh. “I’m gonna be the first to load up on that casserole. It’s the kind with bacon and sausage and cheese stacked up and baked in eggs, ain’t so?”
“Better get movin’, runt,” Seth Brenneman threatened as he scooted his chair back. “You’ll get trampled on your way to the trough if ya stand here jawin’ about it.”
The bell above the door jingled and Tom Hostetler, the local dairy farmer, came in with Reuben Reihl, his neighbor to the south. Both wore muddy trousers, from clearing away storm damage on their farms, no doubt.
“Say, who belongs to that blacksmithin’ wagon out front?” Reuben asked as he looked around the crowd. “I’ve got some horses needin’ shoes and no time to take them clear to Morning Star, what with the harvest still goin’ on.”
Ben turned to wave at him. “I’m the fellow you’re lookin’ for. Ben Hooley. I can head to your place as soon as I eat breakfast—or whenever ya want me to come.”
“Appreciate it,” the bulky, redheaded farmer replied. “The name’s Reuben Reihl, and I’m on the gravel road just east of here, past the Brenneman boys’ carpentry shop.”
“I’ve got some milkin’ machines that need repair, too,” Tom said as he stepped up to shake Ben’s hand. “Do ya do that kind of weldin’?”
“For sure I do. I’ll load the smaller pieces into my trailer for later, and work on the bigger stuff in your barn while I’m there,” Ben replied. “We’ll do whatever it takes to keep ya up and runnin’. This afternoon be all right?”
Tom chuckled. “Can’t ask for better service than that! I’m Tom Hostetler, just on the other side of Reuben’s place.”
Again the bell jingled, and this time it was the bishop. Several English travelers had taken seats and were ordering their breakfast, but Hiram Knepp spotted Ben right off, as the only Plain fellow he didn’t know. “That farrier wagon’s an answered prayer,” he said as he approached Ben’s table. “Welcome to Willow Ridge. I’m Hiram Knepp, the district’s bishop—and I breed Belgians. I’ve got a whole stable of fine horses, some of them going to auction in a week or so. It’ll probably take you the better part of a day to shoe them all.”
Ben rose to shake the older man’s hand. Was it Miriam’s imagination, or did Ben Hooley look Hiram over pretty close, as though considering whether he’d take the job he’d just been offered? She moved around the room then, filling coffee mugs and taking a few orders from the menu. Thank goodness Rhoda had been waiting on another table of two English couples, passing through on vacation by the looks of their big RV out front. The last thing they needed was any silliness from Rhoda while Hiram Knepp was here.
“Need a couple cheese omelets with ham and hash browns,” Miriam called over to Naomi as she returned to the kitchen. “Everybody’s showin’ up at once this mornin’. They’ve probably done a day’s work already, lookin’ after their livestock and fences since the storm blew through.”
“Looks like that Hooley fella’s linin’ up his work for a
gut
long while.” Her best friend’s brown eyes sparkled as she plopped butter into two omelet pans. “No question in my mind about the sort of man he is, either, if he fixed up the window without ya havin’ to ask him.”
“
Jah
. And I have no idea how he got his horse back, or how he fetched his wagon or got that pane of glass here so quick, either,” Miriam said. “Closest place to get glass cut is over in New Haven, at the hardware store.” She took two more long metal pans out of the warming oven, knowing their breakfast casserole would be mostly gone by the time the Brenneman boys and her nephews ate their fill. “Some fellas just have a way of makin’ things work out right, and he impresses me as one of them.”
“Right nice to look at, too. Not that ya would’ve noticed that, Miriam.”
Miriam glanced up quickly to see how her partner had meant that—and then they giggled together like a couple of girls. “So ya picked up on that part, Naomi?”
“I’ve got eyes, don’t I?”
“Eyes like a potato and ears like corn. Ya don’t miss much.” Miriam glanced out into the dining room, where her twins were clearing away plates while Naomi’s boys went to the steam table for seconds. “So tell me straight-out honest,” she said in a lower voice. “Was I out of line, puttin’ Rhoda in her place awhile ago? It never dawned on me she’d be gettin’ her nose outta joint over—”
“Ben’s gonna cause a stir amongst all the single women. That’s just the way of it in a little town like Willow Ridge.” Naomi tipped the skillets to allow her egg mixture to spread around the edges of the pan so the omelets would cook faster. “No doubt in my mind Rhoda’s set her cap for him, but Ben Hooley might be just the kind of sugar you’re wantin’ in
your
tea, Miriam. I don’t know one thing about him, but he’ll make ya happier in a heartbeat than Hiram Knepp could dream of doin’ in a lifetime.”
Miriam blinked. It wasn’t Naomi’s way to say things she didn’t truly believe. “I hope ya don’t think I was crossin’ the line, actin’ interested in Ben so soon—”
“You’ve got eyes, too. And a heart needin’ the love of a
gut
man, after two years without your Jesse.” With an expert flip of her wrist, Naomi slid one folded omelet onto a plate, and then the other. “A daughter Rhoda’s age won’t understand that, even if she knows, in her mind, that you’re awful young to be a widow for the rest of your life.”
“It’s no secret, either, that Rhoda wonders what she’s gonna do with herself once Rachel and Micah get hitched,” Miriam said quietly. “She and I’ve got that little apartment above the smithy, but things’ll change fast for both girls when Rachel’s keepin’ a house and a husband, startin’ up a family.”
“
Jah
, they’re close, even for twins. Does Rhoda have her eye on anybody that ya know of?”
“Who can say? She talks a bit about Jonas Zook, but he’s not the type I see her settlin’ down with.”
“I can’t see that match strikin’, either,” Naomi agreed. “The older boys have teased Aaron when he’s paired up with Rhoda after singin’s, but I think he mostly drives her home so he won’t be the only man without a date.”
Naomi arranged thick slices of ham and helpings of hash browns alongside the omelets and then took them to the window. “Here ya go, Rachel,” she called above the chatter in the dining room. “How’s that buffet table holdin’ up?”
“We’re
gut
for a few minutes yet.” The slender girl rolled her eyes and chuckled. “Or at least we’re
gut
until my sister trips over her own feet from gawkin’ at that Hooley fella.”
“
Jah
, there’s that!” Naomi agreed with a laugh.
“Rhoda’s already asked him over to shoe our four horses.”
Miriam’s eyebrows rose. “That’s probably a
gut
idea,” she said after a moment’s consideration. “It’s been a while since their hooves were tended, and winter will slick up the roads before ya know it.”
“The men seem to like him. Every fella in the room’s got him doin’ some work these next several days.” Rachel lifted the steaming plates of food and hurried back to the table of English travelers.
“Ya can’t argue with that. Word’ll get around quick, about how he handles horses and whether he works for a fair price,” Naomi remarked.
Miriam smiled. “Not that either of those things matters to Rhoda.”
“So what’ll ya cook him for dinner that night after he shoes your horses, dearie?”
Once again laughter bubbled up from deep inside Miriam and she slung her arm around her best friend’s shoulders. “What would I do without ya, Naomi? Always makin’ me laugh and see things from a different angle, even when life leaves me a little out of kilter.”
The blond cook in the brown dress smiled as only a longtime friend could. “I can’t tell ya how I liked watchin’ the roses bloom in your cheeks when you were givin’ Rhoda what for about Ben Hooley. I’m happy for ya, Miriam. It’s
gut
to see ya grinnin’ again. Livin’ again.”
While Miriam basked in her friend’s encouraging words, it seemed a little . . .
early
to be talking as though she and the handsome blacksmith would get together. She sighed and then looked toward the countertop, where the cornmeal rolls she’d shaped earlier had risen in their large metal pans. “I’d better tend to my bakin’ instead of moonin’ over Mr. Hooley. He’s got his work, and I’ve got mine. We’ll just see what happens next, ain’t so?”
And meanwhile, Lord, I’m askin’ ya to guide my heart and my head—and my mouth—when it comes to Rhoda. Ya know how we love each other, so help us remember that part if things get prickly between us.

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