Breath of Spring (23 page)

“
Jah,
but it’s
your
stuff,” Adam whispered. “I’m sorry we happened over here when we did. Do you want to head back to Ben’s?”

Annie Mae sniffled loudly. Where could she possibly go to forget what she’d just witnessed? Was there to be no end to this crying, this upheaval? It was almost as though Dat had known she and Adam would be walking past here after church. Every time her father thought of some other way to make his presence known, she would be dragged across the emotional coals, scorched again. Dat knew just how and when to pull her strings, so his actions would have the nastiest impact on her.

“Annie Mae, I—maybe this isn’t the best time to talk about what’s on my mind.” Adam gazed up into her face, gently thumbing away her tears. “But I want you to know that even when it seems like your world’s getting loaded up and hauled away—like you’ll have nothing to fall back on—I . . . I deposited the money from sellin’ my bike into your account, honey-girl. So even if you keep thinking you won’t marry—or you won’t marry
me
—you’ll not have to work so hard to support your sibs.”

Annie Mae felt her mouth drop open and then close again. “What are ya sayin’, Adam? That makes no sense, that you’d put the money from sellin’ your cycle—”

“But
you
were the one who got me to the point I could get rid of it, along with all the guilt I was hanging on to,” he said earnestly. “That bike’s been in the barn for years, so it’s not like I’ll miss the money—not like I
need
the money. But if . . . if you change your mind about getting married, I want to be first in line to—”

“Adam Wagler!” As the full impact of his words sank in, Annie Mae backed out of his embrace. “You are
not
tellin’ me ya put thirty thousand dollars into my—”

“No, it was um . . . thirty-five thousand,” he murmured as he pulled a slip of paper from inside his vest. “The fella who bought it wanted to chip in on—when he heard you were keeping the kids and—”

“So ya made me out to be a charity case? To a total stranger?” Annie Mae cried. “This ranks right up there with gettin’ my hair whacked off! How am I supposed to—I feel like I’ve been bought and paid for, Adam. It’s like I’ll owe ya for the rest of my life, because I can’t possibly—”

“Annie Mae, it’s not like that,” Adam pleaded.

But when he gently grasped her arms, Annie Mae yanked away as though his hands were burning her through the sleeves of her dress. “I thought we had an agreement! I thought we weren’t gonna think about—and now you’ve gone and turned the tables on me, knowin’ I can never repay—”

“I don’t
want
to be repayed—”

“Leave! Just leave me alone,” she blurted as she walked backward, away from him. Then she turned, so she could jog out of range, out of sight of such a conniving, scheming man whom she’d believed was her friend.

This was no time to return to Ben and Miriam’s where everyone in town would quiz her about why she was upset—again. Annie Mae headed toward Bishop Tom’s house, on the other side of the Kanagy place. She just wanted to walk and walk, maybe until she walked off her legs. Eventually she had to return to the kids, to her reality, but right now she was wound too tight to be around anybody.

Annie Mae strode back through the orchard, oblivious to the apple blossoms this time, to cut through Rachel and Micah’s yard and then across the Brenneman place . . . along Bishop Tom’s back lot and past his dairy barn to the road. She turned left toward the county highway, on the far side of the Sweet Seasons where no one still at the Hooleys’ place would see her.

Up ahead stood the clinic that would soon open, with Andy Leitner’s medical wagon parked alongside it. For years the building had stood vacant, after housing a flower shop and then a hair salon. With the Brennemans’ and Adam’s remodeling work, it was now transformed for a new purpose that would truly serve their community. Not only would Andy see patients there, but his family now lived in half of the building. Rebecca had an office for her graphic design business upstairs, too, so she could work there when she wasn’t serving as Andy’s receptionist on the main floor.

Annie Mae stopped to admire the white window boxes, a homey touch Rhoda had requested. Cheerful purple and yellow pansies caught the afternoon sunshine . . . pansies that could withstand the chill of early spring yet bloom well into summer.

Didn’t everything about this clinic speak to
change?
To the possibilities that became reality when people allowed God’s love to transform them, the way this building had taken on a whole new purpose? Andy Leitner had risked
everything
—had sold his home and his car, and was shifting his kids out of public school. And he was taking instruction to join a church that had the power to veto his membership . . . all because he and his kids loved Rhoda so much.

Andy had also graciously, gratefully accepted the thousands of dollars folks at Ben and Miriam’s wedding had donated toward his new clinic—not to mention the money that had poured in from Plain folks across the country who’d seen Miriam’s note about his new venture in
The Budget
. The Amish helped their own....

Thirty-five thousand dollars.

Annie Mae let her shoulders relax. She unwadded the deposit slip she’d been clutching, gazing at the numbers in disbelief. Adam had not only received the full amount his motorcycle was worth, but the fellow who’d bought it had chipped in five thousand more . . . and the bank teller had been their accomplice, authorizing the deposit into her account.

They did it because they want you and the kids to be secure. Isn’t this the same sort of love
—
a gift from God through folks here on Earth
—
that Rhoda and Andy have accepted?

Annie Mae let out a ragged sigh. She’d been upset about the
FOR SALE
sign at the house . . . and seeing those men loading Mamm’s china hutch had ripped yet another hole in her heart. It wasn’t Adam’s fault she’d witnessed these unfortunate events when he was pouring his heart out to her . . .
even if you keep thinking you won’t marry
—
or you won’t marry
me—
you’ll not have to work so hard to support your sibs.

She sighed again. Had she been listening to Adam, she would have heard these words plainly . . . would have heard his no-strings-attached intentions. And while everyone in Willow Ridge had shown her extraordinary compassion, who else had made such a generous commitment to her future? He had risked giving all his cycle money to her, not knowing if she would ever marry him. The money was hers even if she eventually wed another man. Now
that
had taken some kind of faith! And something else neither of them was quite ready to name yet . . .

If you change your mind about getting married, I want to be first in line.

A little thrill went up Annie Mae’s spine. Here was a fellow who’d vowed never to marry—never to commit to such responsibility—yet now he was considering
her,
knowing five siblings came as part of the package.
That
took courage, and a sincere change of heart.

What’ll it take to change
your
heart?

With a last glance at the pansies shimmering in the breeze, Annie Mae began the walk back to Bishop Tom’s place . . . back to her reality, yes, but didn’t she now have the resources to remodel her reality anyway she chose to? Adam had left her options with him open, while he’d opened up a whole realm of new possibilities. The very least she owed him was an apology and her thanks.

Adam was hunting up a good excuse not to eat breakfast at the Sweet Seasons Monday morning, except—as usual—the pickings were slim at home. And Matthias would show him no mercy when it came to badgering him about avoiding Annie Mae. When his brother had returned from the Hooleys’ yesterday and found him home alone, there had been plenty of questions about the walk he’d taken with her. Saturday afternoon Matthias had quizzed him about selling his motorcycle . . . to whom and for how much, and what did he plan to do with the money? Maybe start a nest egg for when he got hitched?

Adam had hedged on most of those questions . . . hadn’t told his brother—or anyone else—about depositing his cycle money into Annie Mae’s account. Had that been a foolish thing to do? As he went downstairs in the soft shadows before dawn, he could see several ways to spend a chunk of that money on the poor old house that had been neglected since Mamm, Dat, and Sadie had passed.

What had he been thinking, to tell Annie Mae he was interested in marrying her? Why would she move into this sad bachelor home? Why would she want to look out the kitchen sink window and see the house where she’d spent several years of her life, where a stranger would soon be living? Far as he knew, no one from around Willow Ridge was hunting for a new home—not that any of them could afford it. When their former bishop had built that place for his new wife Linda, along with the huge barn for the Belgians he bred and sold, everyone had raised their eyebrows at what such a palatial place as Bishop’s Ridge must have cost him.

But what did that matter? Annie Mae had all but spat in his face yesterday. So now his most urgent decision was where to eat breakfast. Then maybe he could reconcile himself to giving thirty-five thousand dollars to a young woman who clearly didn’t want it. Or him.

After he and Matthias had done the horse chores, Adam climbed into his wagon and headed on down to the Sweet Seasons. Maybe he could engage the Kanagy boys or the Brenneman brothers in conversation so he wouldn’t have to deal with Annie Mae, other than ordering his breakfast.

What sort of attitude is that? What’s done is done, so man up, even if a fool and his money . . .

When he stepped inside the café, Adam saw that a vanload of folks from the Morning Star senior center were taking up several tables. Annie Mae was patiently writing down their orders, so she didn’t look up when the bell above the door jingled. It was Rebecca who breezed over to wait on him, so Adam relaxed . . . ordered the number four with hot tea, and then chatted with Bishop Tom when he returned from the buffet table.

“So, how’s married life treating you by now?” Adam asked. It seemed like a safe topic. Tom Hostetler was the happiest man on the planet, given the grin he wore these days.

“I highly recommend it.” The bishop cut into his ham steak. “Nazareth’s spendin’ every possible minute with Jerusalem before the wedding—she and Vernon are gettin’ hitched at our house, ya see—so there’s lots of plannin’ goin’ on. Oh!” he added as he leaned closer to Adam. “They’re also gettin’ up a surprise birthday party for Annie Mae this comin’ Thursday afternoon. Hope you and Matthias can join us. It’s not every day she’ll turn eighteen.”

Adam glanced over toward the tables of folks from the senior center, but instead found Annie Mae in the kitchen, conferring with Naomi at the big black cookstove. How many eighteen-year-olds had thirty-five thousand dollars in the bank?

Enough of the sour grapes. Time to man up, remember?

“And Nazareth believes that while I’m eatin’ breakfast here,” Bishop Tom continued blithely, “I’m tendin’ some of my church duties, keepin’ up with fellas in the district. So who am I to argue with that?”

Adam found a smile as Rebecca set a plate of pancakes and bacon in front of him. “Glad it’s working out so well for you, Bishop. Nobody nicer than Nazareth.”

“It could be the same for you, son.” Tom glanced over to where Annie Mae was bending over an English lady’s shoulder, describing the items on the menu. “I was real glad to see the two of ya go strollin’ yesterday.”

“
Jah,
well, don’t get your hopes up,” Adam muttered. “
I
did, and all I got for my trouble was a piece of her mind—and an eyeful of her walking away.”

“Ah.” Bishop Tom forked up a big bite of hash browns that dripped with melted cheese. “Maybe she was still upset from folks carryin’ on about her hair gettin’ cut off. Annie Mae’s not one who likes attention.”

Adam doused his cakes with syrup. “Didn’t help that she saw a moving van in the driveway at Bishop’s Ridge, either. Did you know Hiram’s got the place up for sale now?”

“No!”

Tom began firing questions at him, and Adam gave what details he knew, as well as speculating about the situation in general. By the time he’d finished his breakfast, he’d managed to pass the entire time without so much as making eye contact with Annie Mae. Even as Rebecca rang up his tab, it seemed Miss Knepp was busy in the kitchen, loading a tray with filled plates . . . perhaps evading him as much as he’d been avoiding her.

But when Adam got into his wagon, he found a warm lattice-top rhubarb pie on the seat. There was a note written on the inside of the bakery box lid: THANK YOU, ADAM. I’M SO SORRY. PLEASE FORGIVE ME.

Adam sucked in his breath. The heavenly scent of the pie wasn’t the only thing that seemed enticingly sweet right now.

He hopped down from the wagon, rushed through the café’s door, and spotted Annie Mae in the far corner, clearing away his dishes. Adam quickly made his way between the tables to where she stood chatting with Bishop Tom. Without a word he slipped his arm around her, stood on tiptoe, and loudly kissed her cheek.

Then he was off again, with the memory of Annie Mae’s very pink face and startled blue eyes to chuckle about for the rest of the day.

“
Gut
mornin’, Annie Mae!” Miriam called out from the counter of the Sweet Seasons kitchen. “And happy birthday to ya, too.”

Annie Mae closed the back door and leaned against it, her thoughts swirling. Bishop Tom now drove her to work at five, when he finished his milking, and this morning his secretive smile had suggested something was brewing at the Hostetler house.

“
Denki,
Miriam,” she replied. “I suppose it is a big day. When I was a kid, I couldn’t wait to turn eighteen, and yet . . . here it is. Another Thursday at the Sweet Seasons—but I
so
appreciate ya hirin’ me on,” she added quickly.

It seemed Miriam knew some secrets, too, judging from her kitty-cat grin. She’d already baked pastries and was now rolling out crusts for pie. “Some days start out normal and then, in the blink of an eye, they get a lot more interesting, ain’t so?”

“Like Monday, when Adam smooched me in front of God and everybody?” Annie Mae put on a clean white apron and joined Miriam at the counter, where fragrant steam rose from three pans of sticky buns. She got out the bin of frosting and thinned some of it with milk.

Miriam chuckled. “Ya could’ve knocked me over with a feather when he reached up to kiss ya. It was just so
cute
.”

“Um, there’s more to the story. When . . . when Adam sold his motorcycle?”

“Ben said Officer McClatchey’s friend was like a bee flyin’ to a red flower.”

“Adam put all that money in my bank account. Every dime of it.” Annie Mae’s fingers trembled as she drizzled frosting over a pan of rolls. “He—he wanted to be sure I could support the kids. Said it didn’t mean I had to marry him, or marry
anybody,
but—”

Miriam stopped rolling out piecrusts to gaze directly at Annie Mae. “I’ve thought Adam was sweet on ya for a while now, but this frosts the cake. Actions speak louder than words.”

“But I feel funny about takin’ it. Told him I felt bought and paid for,” she went on in a rising voice. “I apologized with a pie—which, the
pie
was the real reason he kissed me. But when I think about what Adam could be usin’ that thirty-five thousand dollars for—”

Miriam let out a little cry and dropped her rolling pin.

“—I wonder if his gesture was a little
too
generous. Ya know?”

Miriam considered this for a moment. “It takes me a
gut
long while to clear thirty-five thousand dollars,” she agreed quietly. “But other than givin’ ya the money and smoochin’ ya—right in front of the bishop, so it’s not like he was sneakin’ around—has Adam done anything ya felt was . . . improper?”

Annie Mae shook her head. “He’s been on a job out of town this week, puttin’ in longer days. He forgave me for spoutin’ off at him Sunday when I was upset about the
FOR SALE
sign and the movin’ van.”

“And how would ya feel about Adam if it was just you and him?” Miriam queried softly. “No kids to consider. No money involved.”

That was the
real
question, wasn’t it? Annie Mae drizzled frosting over the second pan of rolls. “We’ve been friends all our lives, but kinda blind to each other, ya know?” she murmured. “After my runnin’ around with Yonnie and Luke, and some of the things I’ve said to Adam—and then gettin’ my hair whacked off—why would he want a girl like
me?
I’m a magnet for trouble from Dat, and—”

Miriam gently grabbed her by the shoulders. “Silly goose,” she whispered. “You’ve
grown up,
and so has Adam. No need to feel unworthy, or not perty enough, or—well, any fella would be blessed to win your ever-lovin’ heart, Annie Mae. If I had sons, I’d want one of them to marry ya. Ya weren’t born my daughter, but I’m claimin’ ya right now.”

Annie Mae’s mouth dropped open. Miriam Hooley wasn’t a woman to mince words or to stretch the truth. The expression on her face left no room for doubt, either. “Oh my,” she murmured. She set down her bowl of frosting to keep from spilling it.

When Miriam hugged her close, Annie Mae wrapped her arms around the woman who’d become so much more than an employer and a lifelong friend. How many times had she longed to confide in her own mother these last few months? Whenever she’d felt low, Miriam had stepped in to listen, and to encourage her.

“I want ya to start right now, on your eighteenth birthday, believin’ that you’re one of God’s special rays of sunshine sent to Earth to bless us all with your light,” Miriam said firmly. “Will ya do that for me?”

How could she refuse such a heartfelt request? Annie Mae managed to nod as she remained in Miriam’s embrace. “
Jah
. I’ll try.”

“Work on it. That’s all I’m askin’, on account of how God’s not finished with any of us yet.” Miriam giggled softly. “He’s not finished with me, either. Can ya keep somethin’ under your
kapp?
”

Annie Mae’s eyes widened. What could Miriam possibly want to share with her alone?

“I’m gonna have a baby!
Me,
who for years thought that could never happen again!”

The two of them squealed and hugged again, laughing and crying at the same time. Annie Mae’s heart was thumping in her chest and suddenly her own concerns seemed so minor, in light of Miriam’s joy. “I’m so happy for you and Ben!”

“
Jah,
well, you and Ben are the only ones who know,” Miriam quipped. “I—I was about ready to
pop
for not tellin’ somebody. But now that Andy Leitner’s confirmed it, I’ll be wearin’ everybody out with progress reports, and—”

“As well ya should!” Annie Mae chuckled. “It’s even sweeter, what with you and Rachel carryin’ at the same time.”

Miriam glanced through the back window and then straightened her apron. “Here come Naomi and Hannah, so let’s be workin’ at rolls and pies like nothin’ else is goin’ on. When I see my three girls together, they’ll hear the news before I let the cat out of the bag for everybody else.”

“My lips are zipped.” Annie Mae took up her bowl of frosting again. She greeted the two Brennemans as she always did of a morning, but it was difficult to act as though nothing exciting had just been revealed.

To
me, she mused as she fought a grin.
Miriam shared her miracle with
me
. . . and gave me a miracle, too. I see things much more clearly now. . . .

After Ben gave her a ride home from a busy shift at the Sweet Seasons, Annie Mae stepped through the back door of Bishop Tom’s house. The kitchen was mysteriously quiet and deserted, all scrubbed and tidied up. Why did she smell food, yet Jerusalem and Nazareth were nowhere to be seen? And where were the kids? As she walked cautiously past the big kitchen table and the cleared sideboard, did she dare to hope that someone had decided to throw her a—

“Surprise!”

“Happy Birthday!”

“Surprise, Annie Mae! Did we fool ya?”

The front room suddenly came alive. Joey and Josh leaped out from behind the upholstered armchairs, while Sara and Timmy rushed from behind the sofa, laughing. Bishop Tom, Nazareth, Jerusalem, and Nellie stepped out from the pantry, behind her.

“Happy birthday, Annie Mae!” they chorused.

“And it’s
gut
ya got here when ya did,” Jerusalem added. “We thought the kids might bust wide open with keepin’ quiet, once we saw Bennie’s buggy pullin’ in.”

Annie Mae’s heart swelled at the sight of the front room: the partitions were down as though they were preparing to host church. On the long table where Bishop Tom usually carved his Nativity sets, a big birthday cake with her name on it sat beside a glass bowl filled with rosy pink punch—and too many other goodies to count. “Ohhh,” was all she could manage as she saw the presents on a smaller table and clusters of balloons arranged around the room.

Then everyone she knew started arriving! Miriam and Naomi came straight over from the café, carrying platters of sandwiches, while Seth and Aaron Brenneman, joined by Micah and Rachel, also streamed in, with Ezra rolling behind them in his wheelchair. And here came Rhoda, with Brett and Taylor rushing in to greet the other kids, followed by Andy and Ben. As Annie Mae greeted her guests, the room rang with chatter. Folks began filling plates with food—for meanwhile, Nazareth, Jerusalem, and Nellie had been carrying out big bowls of fruit, her favorite macaroni salad, and coleslaw.

Leah and Dan Kanagy joined them, too, along with Nate and Bram and twin redheads, whom they introduced as their fiancées, Mary and Martha. Ira Hooley came in with Millie Glick, who hugged Annie Mae as they handed her birthday cards—and even Luke had a smile for her. Then Cyrus and Levi Zook burst in, followed by Katie and Jonah and even their parents, who must’ve closed the market so the whole family could celebrate with her. Mary, Priscilla, and Eva Schrock from the quilt shop congratulated her, too.

And wasn’t
that
something? It was like a wedding day, when the Willow Ridge storekeepers closed up to observe a big celebration. Annie Mae gazed around the crowded room, amazed that everyone had come here for
her
... despite the troubles her
dat
had caused among them. When someone behind her put a hand on her shoulder, Annie Mae turned to see Adam with a bouquet of sweet-smelling lilacs.

“Happy birthday, honey-girl,” he murmured as he gazed into her eyes.

For a moment, there was no one in the room but the two of them. Annie Mae accepted the Mason jar of lavender flowers and inhaled deeply. “Oh, but these are a breath of spring,” she whispered. “Those bushes out back of your house always did grow the sweetest-smellin’ lilacs, Adam.
Denki
for thinkin’ of me today.”

Adam’s lips quirked. “Oh, it’s gotten to be more than just today,” he admitted. Then he gestured toward two young women coming in through the kitchen. “Rebecca’s brought somebody I think you’ll want to meet. I’ll put your posies on the table.”

Annie Mae returned Rebecca’s sunny smile and wave, making her way through the crowd. The young woman at Rebecca’s side was a Plain girl who looked to be Nellie’s age, and seemed understandably shy in this roomful of strangers.

“Annie Mae, this is Louisa Kuhns,” Rebecca began. “I’m so glad she could come to your birthday party because, well”—she gently put her arm around the girl’s shoulders—“Louisa’s just gotten her new wig. And it was made from your hair, Annie Mae.”

Was it her imagination, or did the whole room go quiet? Annie Mae gaped, taking in Louisa’s pleated white
kapp,
which covered her ears but revealed a section of black hair on either side of her face, pulled down from a center part. On closer inspection, she realized the girl had no eyebrows or lashes, but when Louisa’s smile came out, like the sun from behind a cloud, Annie Mae couldn’t help but love her. “I don’t mean to stare—don’t know what to say,” she whispered around the lump in her throat.

Louisa grabbed her hands. “Well, I’m here to say
denki,
Annie Mae,” she replied in a soft, sweet voice. “My cancer’s in remission now, and it means so much to have hair again. Even though donors aren’t supposed to find out who received their hair, I just had to meet you when I found out how you . . . lost your braid,” she continued as she glanced ruefully at Annie Mae’s tied
kapp
strings. “Knowing another Plain girl provided it is truly a touch of grace. I’m really sorry about the circumstances, though.”

Annie Mae gripped Louisa’s thin fingers. “Puh!” she murmured. “My hair’ll grow back, and I’m healthy as a horse. That’s two blessings ya just reminded me of, and—and now ya need to meet all the folks here in Willow Ridge who’ve been lookin’ after me and my sibs.”

As word got around the crowded room about who Louisa was, the women came over to meet her, the kids brought her a plate of goodies, and happy chatter filled the big room again. Then Sara called out, “Annie Mae! Come and blow out your candles! I’m ready for cake and ice cream!”

When her little sister and Timmy grabbed her hands, Annie Mae had no choice but to make her way to where Nazareth was lighting all eighteen candles spaced around her large, rectangular cake. Miriam was behind the table stacking plates and arranging forks, while Bishop Tom was coming from the kitchen with big bins of his homemade ice cream.

“Hope ya like strawberry
and
chocolate
and
cherry vanilla,” he teased. “We didn’t know which flavor was your favorite, so I made some of each!”

Overwhelmed by so many wonderful surprises, Annie Mae threw her arms around the bishop. “How am I supposed to thank ya for all you’ve done for me?” she asked. “My word, this is the biggest, best birthday party—”

“And hearin’ ya say that is all the thanks I need,” Tom said as he returned her hug. “You’ve come a long, long way, and I’m proud of ya, Annie Mae. I wish ya all the happiness your heart can hold.”

“Took me awhile, but all eighteen candles are lit, honey-girl,” Nazareth crowed.

“Say, folks!” Jerusalem clapped her hands as she spoke above the noise of the crowd. “It’s time to sing to our Annie Mae while she blows out
all these candles in one breath!
”

As lighthearted laughter rang around her, Annie Mae positioned herself before the glowing cake, smiling at the deep pink lettering on the white frosting . . . the strawberry punch . . .
three
kinds of ice cream. What a celebration! How could she possibly deserve so much fuss?

Miriam caught her eye and winked. “When ya make your wish, aim high,” she advised quietly. “God’s listenin’. And you’re only eighteen once.”

As the room filled with voices singing “Happy Birthday,” Annie Mae leaned down, took a deep breath—and then saw Adam gazing at her with the look of a lovestruck puppy. His clear baritone rose above the other voices, as though he were singing straight from his heart to hers.

I wish . . . I wish to accept all the love in this room—and to live up to Your expectations, Lord,
she prayed. Then she blew as hard as she could. About half the candles went out, and before anyone could tease her, Annie Mae inhaled again.