Read Love Inspired November 2013 #2 Online

Authors: Emma Miller,Renee Andrews,Virginia Carmichael

Love Inspired November 2013 #2 (10 page)

BOOK: Love Inspired November 2013 #2
12.87Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Someone had set up a tub of water, a bar of soap and towels on the porch. Charley and Eli were there cleaning up. Charley was laughing at some nonsense and shaking his wet hands, splattering a protesting Eli with soapy drops of water. As they stepped aside, still teasing each other, Caleb pushed up his sleeves and washed his hands thoroughly. When he reached for a towel, Martha's daughter, Dorcas, handed him a clean one.

“It's good of you to come and help us. Get in our corn,” Dorcas said. She was a tall, spare woman, plain in features, but with good skin. Unmarried, he remembered, and probably nearing thirty. He'd not exchanged more than a few words with her since her father's accident, and not many since he'd come to Delaware.

“I'm glad to help,” he answered.

She covered her mouth with her hand and offered what he thought might be a smile. Had he ever seen her smile? No matter, she was obviously a devout and modest young woman, and it would do no harm to consider her in his search for a prospective bride.

Dorcas's mother, Martha, appeared at his side and tugged at his sleeve. He turned toward her.
“Ya?”

“A word, if you would, Preacher Caleb.” She smiled, showing sparkling white, obviously artificial uppers.

Caleb glanced into the kitchen where the other men were taking seats at the long table. “Maybe after the meal? I think Samuel is about to—”

“Of course,” Martha agreed. “After you've eaten. Actually, Grace Hartman, my niece... She's Mennonite. My brother's daughter. Not raised among us. Offered a ride to the hospital. If you'd like to join Dorcas and me to visit Reuben. He's not to come home until tomorrow now. Nothing to worry about. Just a slight fever. Such a terrible accident, a man of his years. So glad you were there to come to his aid in his time of—”

“The grace,” Caleb reminded her. “The others are waiting.”

“After the meal,” Martha repeated, patting his arm. “You are more than welcome to—”

“It's kind of you to ask,” Caleb replied, glancing toward the kitchen door. “But we need to finish that field today. The weather forecast calls for rain tomorrow night, and—”

“Tomorrow being the Sabbath, there will be no work,” Martha finished for him. “
Ya,
you are right to remind me. My Reuben is such a devout member of the church, and we've tried to raise our Dorcas to be equally obedient to the rules of our community.” Creases crinkled in the corners of her eyes as she beamed at him. “She's quite accomplished, our Dorcas. You've noticed her, I'm sure. As you would, a single man, a widower with a young daughter in need of a mother.”

Caleb nodded. He could feel the impatient gazes of hungry men on him.

“No need to hold you back from your meal,” Martha said. “You've worked so long and hard in the field today. You've earned your rest and a full stomach. But I wondered, if we can't talk today, perhaps tomorrow evening. Supper. Bring your daughter, naturally. Reuben will be home. We would be honored to have you. Six o'clock?”

“Ya,”
Caleb agreed. “Six.” He saw his opportunity and nearly bolted for the door. “Tomorrow.” Three long strides and he was in the kitchen.

“About time,” Charley grumbled. “We're starving.”

Caleb slid into the only empty chair and closed his eyes.

“Let us give thanks,” Samuel intoned.

When their silent prayers ended and they opened their eyes, the serious eating began. Biscuits, potato dishes and creamed celery were passed around. Women slid more bowls of vegetables and meats onto the patched white tablecloth.

Dorcas placed a bowl of gravy down with a thump directly in front of Caleb's plate. “For the meatloaf,” she said. “My mother made it.” Again, she smiled behind her hand.

He nodded, wondering exactly what he'd committed to by agreeing to come to supper. He had been able to tell by the look in Martha's eyes that she had more on her mind than a simple thank-you supper. But maybe this was God's plan for him. Maybe finding a new wife wouldn't be that difficult. He didn't know anything about Dorcas, but that was what courtship was all about.

“Lord, help me,” he murmured silently. But as he glanced up, he saw Rebecca leaning over the table and pouring water into Eli's glass tumbler. And just for a second, he absently stroked the scar on his cheek and wished...

* * *

“Don't go far,” Rebecca called to Amelia. “I just need to get an armload of kindling for the wood box.”

The little girl and Fritzy were racing back and forth between the woodshed and the house. Amelia was throwing a leather ball Charley had sewn for her out of old scraps into the air. The dog would jump up and catch it in his mouth, and then the child would chase him. The big poodle ran in circles around her as she shrieked with laughter and tried to catch him to get the ball back. Only when Amelia stopped, breathless, would Fritzy drop the toy at her feet. Then the game would begin all over again.

With a final glance over her shoulder to see that dog and girl were where they were supposed to be, Rebecca entered the shed and began gathering small pieces of wood for the stove. She had almost all she could carry, then stooped to pick up one last piece. As she reached for it, she heard the door hinges squeak behind her.

She looked back and saw the tall silhouette of a man in the doorway. Startled by Caleb's sudden appearance, she stepped sideways onto a log and lost her balance. She quickly righted herself, but in the process lost control of the kindling, spilling half of it back onto the floor.

“I didn't mean to frighten you.” Caleb stepped forward to steady her. “I'm sorry.”


Ne,
it's nothing.” She could feel the blood rising in her face. “I just...” Clumsily, she began to gather up the wood. “You just surprised me.”

“Let me,” he insisted, taking the wood from her arms. “The fault is mine. I thought I left the wood box full.”

“I didn't realize it was so late.” Rebecca kept her face turned away as she picked up some bigger pieces of wood. Caleb must think she was flighty, to be so startled by his arrival in his own woodshed. “Supper is on the back of the stove,” she said.

Caleb carried his armload outside and she followed, carrying the additional logs she'd picked up. “I may be a little early,” he said. “I finished the trim work for that fireplace surround I was telling you about, the fancy one with the columns. They want me to come to Lewes and mount it on-site. They're even going to pay for my driver.”

“That's good,” Rebecca said. The town in Sussex County had an area where old houses were being moved in and restored. A contractor had contacted Caleb about doing specialty pieces for some of his projects. It was different than the way he usually worked, but Caleb seemed pleased. He said the pay was twice what he normally made. Rebecca was happy that the English people realized what a craftsman Caleb was. Secretly, she was sure that, preacher or not, he took pride in his woodwork.

“I wanted to tell you that I'll be going out for supper on Wednesday. You won't have to make anything for us that night,” Caleb said.

“Oh?”


Ya,
to Reuben and Martha's.”

Again? Rebecca tried not to let the surprise she felt show. “Oh.” Once was natural, after all that Caleb had done for her aunt and uncle, but he'd already had dinner with them on Sunday. Twice in one week? An uneasy thought rose in Rebecca's mind. “You and Aunt Martha and Uncle Reuben and...and Dorcas.” She heard Fritzy barking and Amelia's squeal of laughter. The game was still going on. But the two seemed a long way off. Supper twice in one week usually meant...

“Caleb, are you courting my cousin?” she blurted out, louder than she intended.

He stopped short, turned and fixed her with that intense, dark stare. He suddenly looked as uncomfortable as she felt. “We're not courting, Dorcas and I. At least, not yet.”

Rebecca was stunned. She gripped the wood, her fingers numb. “Not yet?” she repeated.

Only Saturday she had had the conversation with Miriam about the possibility of having Charley speak to Caleb about her. When Rebecca had said she wanted to pray about it first, Miriam had warned her not to wait too long, or someone else might snatch him up. But
Dorcas
?

Rebecca realized how uncharitable such a thought was. Why not Dorcas? She was the single daughter of a preacher. It was perfectly logical that she and Caleb would have much in common, wasn't it?

“We're trying to see if we're compatible,” Caleb explained. “To find out if we want to walk out with each other.” His eyes narrowed. “Why? Is there something wrong with Dorcas?”

“Ne, ne,”
she said quickly. She looked down at the frozen ground, feeling a sense of loss and not entirely sure why. She had prayed about Caleb, but she'd gotten no answer. Had Charley been standing here at this moment, ready to speak with Caleb about her, she wasn't sure she would have agreed to it. “She's a good girl, Dorcas. Very...”

Caleb cocked his head slightly. “Very what?”

Frantically, Rebecca searched her mind for something positive and truthful to say in her cousin's defense. “She's devout. And she's a dutiful daughter. Thoughtful and obedient to her parents.”

“Admirable in anyone.”

“Ya,”
Rebecca continued in a rush. “A hard worker, not lazy. And she makes good chowchow. The best. Everyone says so. She sells a lot of it to the Englishers at their stand at Spence's.”

He chuckled. “A handy skill to have, I suppose. A good thing I have always been fond of chowchow.”

Rebecca quickened her step, hurrying past him to the back porch and into the house. She dumped her load into the wood box beside the stove. Caleb came into the kitchen with Amelia and Fritzy on his heels. “Do you want me to stay and keep Amelia on Wednesday?” she asked him. “Or take her to Mam's?”

“I considered taking her. It's important to me that Amelia be comfortable with any young woman I care to...to consider as a wife.”

“Naturally,” Rebecca dusted her hands off on her skirts. She was trying not to be upset. What right did she have to be? If she'd been interested in Caleb, she should have spoken up sooner.

“But maybe I should wait. Courting is a big step.” He dumped his own load into the box. “It isn't one I would take lightly. But I think it is time. Amelia should have a mother.” He paused, and then his gaze met hers again. “And maybe it's time I stopped mourning Dinah and took a new wife.”

Rebecca forced herself to smile and nod. “It is only right,” she agreed. “A preacher should...” She took a breath. “Amelia does need a mother. Every child does.” Her voice softened and she looked away. “You'll do what is right for her, Caleb. You always do.”

Chapter Ten

T
he following Saturday, Rebecca, Ruth and Miriam went to Fifer's Orchard in the nearby town of Wyoming to get apples. They were picking from the seconds bins by the side of the building and chatted while they worked. It was the last chance they'd have to spend with Miriam for a while as she and Charley were headed to Brazil to spend time with Leah and Daniel that week, and would be gone almost a month.

Mam's orchard hadn't produced many sound apples this year, and despite the quarts and quarts of applesauce they'd put up, Mam wanted more fruit for apple pies and cakes and apple butter. They would purchase baskets of the best apples to store in the cellar for winter, but the slightly bruised or odd-shaped seconds would be fine for cooking.

“So I heard Caleb's courting Dorcas.” Miriam propped her hands on her hips. “
Our cousin,
Dorcas? How did that happen?”

Rebecca glanced at Ruth and Miriam. She didn't want to talk about this with her sisters, and she certainly didn't want to talk about it in public. It had not been a good week. When Caleb had told her he was having supper with Uncle Reuben's family with the intention of trying to find out if he and Dorcas might be a suitable match, she'd been taken by surprise. Then, as the week had passed, she'd found herself growing more and more upset by the idea. And more certain she
did
have feelings for Caleb. Miriam had warned her she had to act fast, but it had never occurred to her that she'd have to act
that
fast. Even before she'd had the opportunity to consider what she felt, everything changed.

Ruth placed two apples into her brown paper bag. “I heard he went to supper at Aunt Martha's Sunday evening and again on Wednesday. Wearing his good coat. Sounds like courting to me.”

“If Dorcas can land the new preacher, it will be a triumph for Aunt Martha,” Miriam said. “She told Mam that she was afraid she'd have Dorcas on her hands forever.”

“Mmm.” Ruth picked up an apple, examined it and then rejected the apple. “Maybe it's the new tooth.”

“Getting that broken tooth repaired certainly didn't hurt Dorcas's appearance,” Miriam agreed. “You know I hate it when a woman's looks are more important than how beautiful she is inside, but Dorcas can use all the help she can get.”

“That's not very charitable,” Ruth admonished.

“I didn't mean it unkindly.” Miriam looked up at her. “But the truth is, Dorcas is plain, and the way Aunt Martha insists she dress doesn't help. Amish men aren't all that different from any other. Most of the time, they'll pick the pretty girls first.”

Ruth frowned. “It didn't stop our Anna from making a good match with Samuel. Her size didn't mean a thing to him.”


Ya,
but who wouldn't want Anna? She has the biggest heart of any of us. She's a wonderful mother to Samuel's children—and she makes him happy. Not to mention that she's a better cook than even Mam.”

“I think Dorcas could have married long ago if she took a page from Anna's book. It's no secret that Dorcas isn't always pleasant to be around. She can be...” Ruth nibbled at her lower lip “...critical, and...”

“Aunt Martha-ish?” Miriam suggested. “Maybe that's what Caleb is looking for. No one can fault Dorcas's devotion to the church. It could be that she's exactly the kind of wife Caleb is looking for.”

Rebecca continued to sort apples and tried not to listen to her sisters. Then she tried to pretend that she didn't care whom Caleb was walking out with. If he chose her cousin, though... She swallowed, trying to dissolve the knot in her throat. Over the years, she and Dorcas hadn't always been the best of friends, but Dorcas was family and she was a member of their church. If Caleb asked Dorcas to marry him, Rebecca would have to find a way to be happy for them.

Ruth lowered her voice and moved closer to Rebecca. “You see Caleb every day. Did he say something to you about being interested in Dorcas?”

Rebecca didn't look up at her. “He said that he was
visiting to see if he and Dorcas suit each other
.”

“Catch.” Miriam tossed Rebecca an oversize green apple. “There's still time, little sister. I think you should let Charley speak to Caleb for you.”

Rebecca felt tears sting the backs of her eyelids.

Ruth squeezed Rebecca's arm and looked at her. “You do care for him, don't you?”

Rebecca opened her mouth to answer, but before she could say anything, Susanna trotted down the wooden ramp toward them, waving a vegetable peeler.

“Look what I bought!” Susanna exclaimed. “With my own money. A peel-er. Now I can help peel apples. I won't cut myself.” She thrust the green-handled utensil in Ruth's face. “Isn't it pretty?”

“It is.” Ruth smiled back at her. “Where did you find such a good one?”

“By the reg-i-ter. King David's Mam. I saw her. Inside.” Susanna was so excited that she was practically bouncing from one black athletic shoe to the other. “She helped me count my money.”

“Great,” Rebecca agreed, glad for a reason to change the subject. “Mam will be proud of you.”

“Good job,” Miriam said, admiring Susanna's purchase. “You didn't forget about wanting to peel apples, did you?”


Ne.
I didn't forget. I want to help,” Susanna said. “Not just play with
kinner.
Help like you.”

“We can always use another pair of hands,” Ruth said.

Susanna nodded vigorously. “And...and when King David and me get married—” she took a deep breath “—I can make applesauce for him!”

Rebecca met Miriam's gaze, and suddenly their little sister's happy moment became a sad one for the older sisters. No matter how many peelers she bought, they all knew Susanna would never be able to marry and leave home. She would always live with Mam or one of them, and in some ways, she would always remain a child.

I should be ashamed of myself,
Rebecca thought. Instead of being upset by Caleb's attention to her cousin, she should be thanking God that she wasn't born with Susanna's burden. Her sister was a precious and innocent soul, but she could never be a wife or a mother.
Someone, somewhere will surely ask me to be his wife.

“Hi!” Grace joined them at the apple bins. “I didn't know you were coming here today. I could have picked you up in my car. I'm so glad I got to see you again before you and Charley set off on your adventure.” She kissed Miriam on the cheek and continued greeting each of her sisters affectionately. Because Grace was Mennonite, she didn't wear Amish clothing, but she was dressed in a long denim skirt, a modest blouse and a lace prayer cap.

“How's school?” Rebecca asked. Grace was attending a college program for veterinary technicians and would soon be working beside her husband John at his animal hospital.

“Tough, but I love it.” Grace flashed her a grin. “This one teacher I have is a real bear, but I can always count on John to help me study for her tests. I don't know what I'd do without him.”

“You couldn't have found a better partner,” Miriam said.

Miriam and John had been good friends for years, and she'd come close to marrying him. But he wasn't Amish, and in the end, Miriam had chosen Charley and remained true to her faith.
It was funny how things turned out,
Rebecca mused. Who would have believed that John was destined to be her brother-in-law, not by wedding Miriam as everyone expected, but by becoming the husband of a beloved half sister who'd recently come into their family? Proof that God truly had a plan for each of them.

She wondered what His plan was for her.

I thought it might have been Caleb,
she thought with a pang of sadness. She'd been so certain that there was no hurry, no reason to rush the awakening feelings that stirred in her heart. Now, selfishly, she didn't want Caleb to become her cousin by marriage. She wanted more....

“So what's new at home?” Grace asked. “I kept thinking about all of you on Thanksgiving. Uncle Albert ordered a whole turkey dinner from a restaurant, and we all sat around and stuffed ourselves. Grandpa Hartman ate most of a sweet-potato pie all by himself.”

“We missed you, too,” Ruth said. “It was a quiet day of prayer and fasting for us.”

“But we'll expect you all for Christmas dinner.” Rebecca added one last apple to the bag. “Uncle Albert and his father, too.”

“We wouldn't miss it. You know how 'Kota loves to play with his cousins.” Grace picked up a bag of apples. “Let me help you load these in the buggy.”

Ruth and Susanna went inside to pay while Rebecca, Miriam and Grace walked across the parking lot to the hitching rail.

“What's this I hear about Caleb Wittner and Dorcas?” Grace asked as they approached the buggy. “Is he really courting her? I thought that you...” Grace gave Rebecca a meaningful look. “You know. So I was surprised when John said that Noodle Troyer said—”

“Caleb isn't walking out with Dorcas.” Rebecca shoved her bag of apples into the back of the buggy so hard that the brown paper split and apples spilled out and rolled across the floorboards.

Miriam chuckled. “Bad subject, Grace. I was just telling Rebecca last weekend that if she thought she might be interested in Preacher Caleb, I should have Charley speak to him before someone else beat her to him.”

Rebecca whirled around. “If Caleb and Dorcas are suited to each other, I'd be the last person to—” She bit down on her lower lip.

Grace's eyes clouded with compassion. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to...” She sighed. “It's just that...” She shrugged. “I don't understand. I'm a Yoder, and I should have learned all this stuff by now, but how the Amish choose a husband is just...just...”

“It must sound strange to you, being raised among the English,” Miriam offered, “but it isn't odd to us. It's just the way things have always been done. What is it that you aren't clear about?”

“When John and I started to be interested in each other, we...we dated, sort of. He asked me out.” She looked from Miriam to Rebecca. “John said that Amish boys don't ask girls to go out with them—they have someone else ask.”

Rebecca nodded. “There's often a go-between. Amish boys are shy.”

“Usually more so than the girls,” Miriam put in. “And since our church is one of the more conservative, we like to see couples who are walking out be with other people, not alone.”

“Chaperoned?” Grace said. “Even at Dorcas's age? Really?”

Miriam slid her bag in and began to gather the apples that had spilled out of Rebecca's bag before raising her gaze to meet Rebecca's. “I wanted to have Charley talk to Caleb to see how he felt about Rebecca. When there's a friend or relative asking, it's less embarrassing if the other person isn't interested.”

“So Caleb had a go-between to ask Dorcas—” Grace began.

Rebecca shook her head. “
Ne.
Not exactly. Aunt Martha invited him to supper. What they are doing is visiting to see how they get along, if they want to court.”

“And if they do like each other in that way, will they start going to singings and work frolics together?” Grace asked.

Miriam shrugged. “I doubt it. Both of them are older, and Caleb's been married before. I suppose the first thing people will notice is him driving her home from church services. And Caleb will keep visiting her at home.”

“When Samuel was courting Anna,” Rebecca said, “they went to a taffy pulling she wanted to go to, so he took her. What a disaster. Of course, the age difference isn't so great between Caleb and Dorcas. But neither of them seem the kind to want to go to young people's frolics.”

Grace wrinkled her nose. “It doesn't seem very romantic.”

“It's complicated.” Miriam knotted the loosening ties of her blue wool scarf under her chin. “Respect, devotion to the faith and an ability to help the partner. That's what's important.” She smiled. “As Grossmama always says, ‘Kissing don't last. Cooking do.'”

“Maybe it's best I didn't become Amish,” Grace said thoughtfully. “I married John because I loved him—because I couldn't live without him. Respect and friendship alone wouldn't be enough for me.”

And maybe not for me, either,
Rebecca thought
. I think I'd rather stay an old maid than settle for a man I couldn't love with my whole heart.

* * *

“Are you almost done?” Amelia pleaded from the bale of hay where Caleb had placed her a half hour ago.

Caleb shook his head. “Just a little while yet. Stay where you are and play with your baby.”

They'd been on the way to Dover to the hardware store, but he'd stopped at Reuben's farm long enough to see if the volunteers had come by for morning milking and chores. They had, but Martha had seen him and asked if he'd clean out the horse stall. By the time he finished, he'd be in no shape to be seen in public. He couldn't help wondering when Reuben had last cleaned it.

Caleb looked down at his shoes. They'd need a good polish before tomorrow's worship. Had he known he'd be pressed into service, he'd have brought along his muck boots.

“Dat, I'm hungry.”

“You're not hungry. You had soup and a chicken sandwich before we left home.” Rebecca never left on Friday afternoon without leaving food for the weekend. He didn't know how he and Amelia had managed without her. She didn't just cook and clean and look after Amelia, she was tackling bigger projects, too. She was working her way through the moving boxes that had been scattered throughout the house, unpacking his life and putting it in order.

“Dat, I want to go. I'm tired of sitting here. And I need you to tie Baby's bonnet strings.”

BOOK: Love Inspired November 2013 #2
12.87Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Paying Her Debt by Emma Shortt
Alice-Miranda Shines Bright 8 by Jacqueline Harvey
Her Marine Bodyguard by Heather Long
The Scarlet Letter Scandal by Mary T. McCarthy
Count on a Cowboy by Patricia Thayer
Misconduct by Penelope Douglas
The Folded Man by Matt Hill
Sisters of Misery by Megan Kelley Hall