Never Far From Home (The Miller Family 2) (29 page)

Leah laughed good-naturedly. “Was I? Sorry. My sinuses are stuffy from allergies.”

Emma lit the stove burner and then dumped bacon into a frying pan. “I’m sorry that I didn’t get things going down here. You’re always stuck with the lion’s share of the cooking.”

Leah set the griddle across two burners to make pancakes. “I don’t mind. The kitchen is my favorite place to be. But what was all the sorting-out about? Was it because you’re seeing an
Englischer
?” She whispered the word as though afraid to speak it aloud.

Because Leah was still a child, Emma chose not to take issue with the comment. “
Jah
, there’s plenty of thinking to be done once a girl starts courting.”

Leah clucked her tongue the way their mother often did. “I do want you to be happy, sister, but I hope you end up with an Amish fellow so things won’t change around here.”

“Life keeps changing, Leah, no matter what, but you’ll be happy to hear I won’t be seeing much of James for a while. He’s gone to the university and will stay on campus until his assignments are caught up. I’ll be lucky to see him before Thanksgiving. By then, a pretty college girl will probably have caught his eye.”

Leah wiped her hands on her apron and then hugged Emma. “I’m sorry to hear that. Truly I am, but I’m afraid we’ll both be so busy around here, Thanksgiving will be here before you know it.”

Emma stepped back from the embrace and flipped the sizzling bacon. “Why? What’s going on?” she asked, expecting news of sick livestock or a wallpapering project about to begin.

Leah glanced at the doorway to make sure they were alone. “It’s our
mamm
. Don’t get yourself worked up, but her legs and feet are worse—much worse.”

“Oh, no,” Emma breathed, feeling ashamed. She had spent so much time thinking about nonsense like Paris and California that she hadn’t bothered to ask how her mother was feeling. “The pain has become unbearable?” She held her breath while waiting for the answer.

“
Jah
. She can barely walk.
Daed
and Matthew will carry her downstairs when she wakes up, and she won’t be going back upstairs anymore.” Leah poured perfect circles of batter onto the heated griddle so that each pancake would be uniform. “Pa tried to talk her out of using those steps long ago, but you know how stubborn our mother can be.” Leah again glanced across the room, but the house remained eerily silent. “She would grip those banisters and drag herself up to their bedroom. She said she couldn’t bear the thought of sleeping apart from
daed
.”

Emma felt the sting of tears in her eyes, but she willed herself not to cry. “What’s to be?” she asked. With a shaking hand, she lifted the slices of bacon out to drain on paper towels.

“They are turning the front room into a bedroom for them.
Daed
says he’ll sleep downstairs with her. She is going ahead with the operation on both knees, and maybe her feet too.”

The two sisters exchanged anxious looks. These operations came with no guarantees. Their
mamm
might end up never walking again.

Emma took hold of Leah’s forearm. “You won’t get much help with
mamm
so bad off, so I promise to help more with the housework. Maybe Henry can tend my flock and see to my outside chores. I won’t run off and leave you alone inside again.”

Leah patted Emma’s hand as though comforting a younger sibling and then walked off to set the breakfast table. “
Danki
, sister, but what we really need is for you to earn money—as much as possible. Make as many grapevine wreaths as that gift shop will take, plus wool scarves and shawls and throws. Winter is coming—time for stores to stock up on woolens. How many skeins of yarn do you have ready to sell?”

Emma scratched her head. “I don’t rightly know, maybe a dozen or so.” She didn’t think Leah knew what went on in the barn loft because the dust and animal dander made her allergies worse.

“I think you should double your production. I’m going to bake pies to sell in town in my spare time. We’ll need extra money for
mamm’s
prescriptions. If I know her, she’ll insist on paying the other bills first and not take the proper dosage of medicine.”

“But Leah, you’re only thirteen years old. You can’t possibly do all the housework for this family.”

Leah gazed at her patiently. “Who do you think has been handling it lately?
Mamm
hasn’t been able to help for some time now. I will need you on laundry day, that’s for sure, but the canning and herb-drying is done for the season.” Leah slid the rest of the pancakes onto a platter. “When I need you, I will know where to find you, won’t I? Please, Emma, just make all the money you can. I’ll be fine in here.” She hurried to the refrigerator for milk and juice.

“I did notice a carpet and rug manufacturer when I was riding with James. They buy bulk wool. I’ve got plenty of wool that’s too stiff and scratchy to spin on my wheel. Nobody wants a sweater made from that next to their skin. I should never have let
daed
buy those Dorsets and Suffolks to build my flock. Merinos would’ve been a better choice.”

Leah set the plate of bacon on the table. “A rug sounds like the perfect use for that stiff wool. It’ll never wear out.” She cocked her head to the side. “I think I hear them on the steps bringing her down. Why don’t you go see if you can help. I’ve got things handled here.”

Emma took a long look at her sister before heading toward the stairwell. When had the child turned into a capable and generous-hearted young woman? It must have been while Emma had been busy daydreaming about a big, fancy English wedding.

October

G
et up there,” Seth called to his team of draft horses. Two of the four Percherons lifted their gray heads and shook their manes side to side. Although a human would interpret the action as a negative response, they nevertheless picked up their feet and started down the long row of corn. With a final wipe of his brow, Seth settled his hat back in place and tightened the reins. Breaktime was over. The team was pulling a motorized corn harvester that picked the corn and fed it into the wagon following alongside. His nephew Matthew drove the horses pulling the wagon.

When the bishop allowed the district to switch from ground-driven harvesters to motorized, speed and efficiency greatly improved. And it was a good thing too, because he needed to get the last of the corn picked. He had waited, hoping the ears would grow larger and fill out. But the rain he’d prayed for never came. A particularly dry September with near-drought conditions yielded a crop far less than his expectations. Since October so far had been equally dry, there was no sense in waiting longer.

Sitting on the corn harvester for hours at a time gave a man opportunity to think. And the thoughts Seth dwelled on this autumn afternoon were filled with recrimination. He’d been farming long enough that he didn’t need a scale to know this crop was light. A meager harvest with poorly formed ears meant a lower price. This delivery wouldn’t compare with the earlier one, but he had no choice but to keep going. He still had to bundle stalks and shred into silage before a heavy frost. If cold weather hit before he filled his silos, the feed would mold and become unusable.

With great joy Seth spotted Simon and his nephew Henry along with their wagon and team of Belgians. They entered the field from the opposite end with Simon’s corn harvester. Despite his
bruder
’s position against the corn alliance, he’d come over with his son and team to help. Seth sent up a prayer of thanks for his family. And he also asked for forgiveness for his stubbornness and pride. Why hadn’t he listened to Simon’s wise counsel? If he’d stuck to the tried-and-true Amish ways, he would be cutting hay for the last time and facing the long winter with full silos. Instead, he was playing a game of beat-the-clock—a game he was fairly certain he would lose.

When his horses needed rest, he provided feed and water and headed to the house for lunch. Hannah greeted him at the door with a warm smile and cool drink. “How goes it, Seth? How much longer?”

He entered the kitchen, fragrant with the rich smell of simmering soup. “The picking goes well, but the quality of the harvest leaves much to be desired.”

Hannah murmured words of consolation as she ladled soup into three bowls. Phoebe was already at the table with spoon in hand. Her faceless doll had been propped up in the opposite chair with a toy bowl before it. “Don’t forget my dolly,
mamm
,” Phoebe said.

Hannah pretended to fill the small bowl with her ladle. “I saw from the window that Simon came with Henry and their team. That should speed things up.”

“
Jah
, it will. I invited him for lunch but Simon won’t stop yet. He brought sandwiches in a sack for when they get hungry. Matthew will be in soon.” Seth tried not to convey his downheartedness. It wasn’t his family’s fault he had made a bad decision.

They bowed their heads in silent prayer and then Seth stared into his bowl. “There’s more corn in my soup than on the ears I’ve been picking,” he said wryly.

No one laughed at his joke. Luckily, Matthew walked in with his hair wet and plastered to his head. “Sorry I’m late, Aunt Hannah. I took a quick dip in the pond to wash off. It might be October, but that sun is still hot.”

Hannah handed him a towel. “Not to worry. We’re grateful for your help. How is Julia today?” She filled her nephew’s bowl to the brim.

“The same, I guess.” He slurped his first spoonful noisily. “She’s not happy we turned our front room into a sick room. That’s what she called it. She says it’s disgraceful to have grown adults sleeping in a room with eight windows.” The boy ate his soup faster than Hannah had ever seen done before.

Hannah and Seth exchanged amused glances. “After she gets her new knees she might be able to move back upstairs, maybe in the spring,” Hannah said, refilling his bowl again.

“
Jah
, maybe, but she’s making Pa close in the back porch and turn it into a bedroom. That will be his wintertime project. Leah’s excited about getting her own room upstairs.”

Seth took another helping too, not to be outdone by a fourteen-year-old boy. “Tell your
daed
I’ll help him with the room addition. And thank him for sending you over. You’re a big help, Matty.”

The boy grinned with delight. “I like helping, Uncle Seth. Are you taking a wagonload to the elevator this afternoon?”

Seth nodded. “I’ll be back as soon as possible. If it’s all right with Simon, you can deliver the corn tomorrow.”

Matthew looked ecstatic. “
Danki
, Uncle Seth. I’ll check with Pa tonight. Now I’d best get back out there.” He stood, carried his bowl to the sink, and headed for the door. “
Danki
for lunch, Aunt Hannah.”

“You’re welcome,” she called. He had wolfed down two bowls while she was still eating her first.

Seth poured a cup of coffee and spent a full minute studying the dark liquid.

His preoccupation didn’t escape Hannah’s notice. “Something wrong, Seth? Or is something curious swimming around in your cup?” She leaned over to look.

“I’m only delaying the inevitable,
fraa
. And I won’t allow anymore self-indulgence. I’m heading for Mount Eaton.” Seth rose, patted his daughter’s head, and kissed his wife. No peck on the cheek or buzz across the forehead—this kiss expressed his love and respect for a patient woman. Hopefully, her patience would still remain after he returned from the corn buyer. Although he certainly deserved it, he prayed he wouldn’t hear “I told you so” from his cherished bride.

By the time he reached Mount Eaton with his fully loaded wagon, a flock of crows was trailing behind, ready to devour any ears that fell out. The crisp fall air heightened every sensory nerve in his body. With long sunny days and without the humidity of summer, October was his favorite month. Turkey vultures wheeled high in the wind currents, apparently not ready for southern migration. Seth settled back and enjoyed the ride with little traffic and beautiful scenery.

But his peace of mind was short lived. The grain elevator in town buzzed with activity; long rows of horse-drawn wagons waited their turn to deliver corn. Men congregated on the loading dock, talking animatedly in tight knots. No one was smiling. Seth parked around the corner and entered the building from the front. He recognized a few familiar faces from his district and walked over to join them. They were speaking in German so fast he could barely keep up. One friend pointed at the grain buyer standing in the office doorway. Another wildly gestured at the chalkboard hanging on the wall. Seth squinted his eyes to read the scribbled numbers.

His jaw dropped open when he saw the current price being paid per bushel of corn. It was bad enough his crop had been inferior to expectations, but this price was a fraction of what the alliance had counted on.

“What…how?” he croaked in a raspy voice.