Never Far From Home (The Miller Family 2) (4 page)

But finally
mamm
had given her a day to herself, and she was on her way to Sugar Creek.

She’d bathed and dressed carefully, rubbing in as much hand cream as her skin would absorb. Because the day turned out sunny and mild, her fourteen-year-old brother, Matthew, had hitched the team of smaller Belgians to the open wagon. She would be able to deliver the sixteen grapevine wreaths, all the finished packets of dye, and the last of her wool—spun, carded, free of debris, and ready to be woven into cloth.

After a quick tally in her head, she estimated she would earn enough for half the portable loom she’d admired in Mrs. Dunn’s shop. It was perfect for her. It could do everything Aunt Hannah’s could, and yet it weighed far less and could be easily moved when she had a home of her own someday.

After all, she wasn’t a child anymore.

As Matthew tightly held the lead horse’s bridle, Emma stepped into the wagon, smoothing out a lap blanket to sit on.
“Danki, bruder,”
she said when he handed her the reins.

“Wait up there, daughter,” Simon hollered from the kitchen window.

Matthew snickered. “If you had been a bit quicker, you might have made a clean getaway.” He grabbed hold of the bridle to steady the horses.

Emma frowned. As much as she adored her father, she had no time for a dozen questions. Sugar Creek was more than two hours away with this slow team, plus she still had to pick up her aunt.

Simon hurried down the back steps with his napkin, dotted with maple syrup, still tucked into his collar. “Your
mamm
says you’re delivering the wreaths to Mrs. Dunn.”

“Jah,”
she answered, “my wreaths, dyes, and wool. I should earn a tidy sum when she pays me for this.” Her hand flourished over the wagon bed, where Matthew had covered the contents with a canvas tarp.

“I need your help today, son, to set soybeans. In fact, I could use both of you.” Simon grabbed the other horse’s leather lead.

“I’m not going anywhere, Pa,” Matthew said, tightening the ropes on the tarp.

Simon looked at Emma with eyes rounding like an owl’s. “You’re not going all that way by yourself. Not driving a wagon team.”

Emma smiled patiently at her father. “Of course not. Aunt Hannah is coming with me. She needs to deliver wool too. And I’ll be happy to help you plant beans tomorrow. This nice weather is supposed to hold.”

Simon’s brows knitted together, but he released the horses. “All right, but get your business done and come home. No dillydallying.”

Matthew walked the team in a half circle so that the wagon was pointed down the driveway. After Simon had returned to the porch, Matthew said with a grin, “Remember, absolutely no dillydallying.” He slapped the horse’s rump and the wagon lurched down the lane.

Excitement began to build in Emma’s blood. They had a glorious spring day for the outing, and who knew whom they might run into in town?

Aunt Hannah stood waiting in the yard with her bags lined up next to the driveway. Within ten minutes they had loaded her wool and were trotting down Highway 62, each woman lost in her own thoughts.

“How’s the weaning coming, Aunt?” Emma asked after a while, hoping not to sound too pushy. Although the lambs had been promised in return for farm-sitting, they weren’t hers until the payment was made.

“Good,” Hannah said. “Most are grazing a little, beside nursing from their mothers. Only a few have yet to acquire a taste for grass.” Hannah held the reins since she had more experience keeping the wagon on the side of the road. Emma was allowed to control the lead horse only when the road widened with a designated buggy lane.

“
Wunderbaar
. I’m ever so grateful for them. I’m eager to increase my flock. Maybe next year I’ll sell some of the male babies. I wonder what price they’re fetching this year.”

“I’m sure I wouldn’t know, child.” Her aunt slanted her an odd look and slapped the reins against the horses’ backs.

Emma then remembered that Hannah never sold her spring lambs to the meat processor. Once Emma had overheard Uncle Seth say, “If my wife had her way, each lamb would be named, groomed with a pink or blue ribbon round its neck, and live to a ripe old age in our pasture.”

Emma changed the subject to her recent attempts at dye extraction. She described boiling down various combinations of roots, bark, and berries to create some interesting shades of color. Before they knew it, their wagon had reached Sugar Creek and was rumbling down the alley behind the shop known as A Stitch in Time.

“Look, Mrs. Dunn is out on the loading dock. What perfect timing for us.”

“I’d say it is,” Hannah agreed, slowing the team. She squinted her eyes, trying to focus. “And isn’t that the same green pickup that rolled up my driveway last week?” Hannah’s tone sounded a touch frosty.

Emma craned her neck, even though she had spotted the truck long before her aunt. “I think it is. James did mention he might be delivering today. I thought we could spare Mrs. Dunn extra work if a large supply arrived on the same day.”

“How very thoughtful of you,” Hannah said, with a hint of a smile. “Please hold the reins and stay with the wagon. There’s nowhere to park. We’ll just wait here until it’s our turn to unload.” Hannah stepped down and tied the ribbons of her heavy black bonnet.

Emma noticed her aunt had started wearing the conservative head covering after her marriage instead of her usual white cotton
kapp
. Now she must turn her head fully left or right to see, since the bonnet blocked any side vision. Her aunt’s pretty face was all but hidden, but she didn’t seem to mind.
Perhaps wedding Uncle Seth has been worth the trade-off
, Emma mused, her face blushing from the thought.

Emma curiously watched Hannah start to approach Mrs. Dunn and then hang back shyly until the
Englischer
spotted her. Handshakes, embraces, even a buzz to the cheek followed in rapid succession amid laughter from both women. One woman Plain, the other fancy, yet it didn’t seem to affect their friendship. Hannah waved from the loading dock and held up one index finger to signal a wait before disappearing into the back office. In a little while, the truck blocking the loading zone pulled away but no vehicle moved up to take its place.

Emma leaned from side to side, trying to get a better view.

“Good afternoon, Miss Miller.” A voice spoke from behind her. Emma might have fallen out of the wagon if not for some quick action. James Davis grabbed her arm, pushing her back from the edge.

“Good grief, you scared the wits out of me!” Emma exclaimed as color flushed up her neck. “The last I saw you, you were standing in the doorway. Did you purposely sneak up on me?”

James put a foot up on the wagon rail and one hand on the back of the bench. “I did. I read in a magazine in the dentist’s office that women like surprises.”

Emma scooted back from his close proximity. She could smell his cinnamon chewing gum. “I believe startling and surprising are two completely different things.” She tried unsuccessfully to sound cross as she smoothed down the folds in her skirt.

“Mrs. Dunn said I should pull your wagon up and start to unload. She and your aunt are going to have coffee and talk women-talk.” He stepped onto the rail. “Scoot over, little missy.”

“Little missy?” she asked. Now Emma did sound cross as she moved to the far end. “That’s a silly thing to call a grown woman.”

“Beggin’ your pardon, ma’am.” He tipped the brim of his ball cap. “I heard that in an old movie once, and I’ve been waiting to try it out.”

“Neither your choice of magazines nor movies is serving you well today.”

James swung up onto the seat, grabbed the reins, and clucked to the usually slow-to-react horses. They began stomping toward the delivery area immediately.

What is it with men and horses? Those two Belgians are usually stubborn mules for me.

As soon as he set the brake, she got down as ladylike as she could and began removing the tarp. Her grapevine wreaths, decorated with every type of nut, dried fruit, wildflower, and seedpod growing in the county, had weathered the trip nicely.

James leaned in for a look. “Wow,” he enthused. “Did you make all these yourself?” He lifted out a particularly bright red one, loaded with holly berries, dried bittersweet, and interspersed with red oak leaves. “They are really nice. I might just buy one for my ma. Her birthday is coming up.”

“I did.” Emma grinned with pleasure, lining up four on her arm to carry in. “If you help me take them in, I’ll give you a discount on your favorite.”

“Looks like you’re a smart business woman besides a pretty gal.” James didn’t wait for her reaction to the compliment but marched up the concrete steps with his arms full of wreaths.

It was a good thing, because Emma’s cheeks had turned as bright as the red ribbons. She knew she shouldn’t encourage such meaningless flattery, but so far she hadn’t been able to put her foot down.

Once she had carried the boxes of dye packets inside, James wouldn’t allow Emma to help unload the wool. He insisted she join the other ladies having coffee.

How nice to be treated like an adult for a change!
Emma poured a cup from the carafe while Mrs. Dunn inspected her handiwork lined up on the counter. She proved to be as equally impressed as James. Mrs. Dunn took on consignment everything Emma had made during the last six months, plus she paid her outright for the packets of dye. Emma was pleased beyond measure once the wool was inspected and weighed. Her share of the profits far surpassed the estimate that had been bouncing around in her mind.

“That’s wonderful, Mrs. Dunn,” she said. “Thank you.” Emma jotted the sum into her little notebook under the profits earned for the dyes. After a quick calculation, she said, “I’m halfway to the price of the portable loom right now. Once all the wreaths sell, I’ll have more than enough, including the tax.” Emma glanced between the shopkeeper and her aunt, arching up on tiptoes with excitement.

“I’m so proud of you, Emma. You’re making real progress,” Aunt Hannah said, patting her arm.

Mrs. Dunn clapped her hands enthusiastically. “Oh, Emma. Good for you. And I see no reason to wait until the wreaths sell since I’m certain they will. Why not pay for half the loom as a down payment? We can go six-months-same-as-cash for the balance, like that big furniture store in Canton. With the summer tourist season ahead of us, I’m sure the wreaths will be a hit. We’ll just change some of the bows to blues and greens.”

“Do you mean it, Mrs. Dunn? That would be ever so nice of you.” Now it was Emma’s turn to clap her hands.

“I’ll ask James to load the loom into your wagon. I can use that space for a new knitting display I’ve been anxious to set up.”

“Hold up here a minute.” Hannah raised a hand as though stopping traffic. “I think we’re getting a little ahead of ourselves. We shouldn’t take anything home until it’s fully paid for.”

“But I promise to work very hard to pay every dime I owe as soon as possible,” Emma said.

“I’m sure you will, dear, but I also know how your
daed
feels about buying on credit. We shouldn’t make this transaction without checking with him first.”

Emma wanted to argue—to point out it would save them an unnecessary trip back as well as free up valuable shop space, but after one look at her aunt’s face, she bit the inside of her cheek instead. Besides, she didn’t want to appear argumentative with James Davis lurking in the open doorway to the dock.

“Yes, ma’am,” she murmured to Hannah. To Mrs. Dunn she said, “Please keep my profits for the wool on an account here—like layaway in the big furniture store. I’ll send a note with my father’s decision.”

“Splendid!” Mrs. Dunn said. “Shall we have another cup of coffee and a slice of pecan streusel before you head for home? I’m longing for a piece but I never allow myself to indulge alone.”

“Excuse me,” James interrupted. He pulled a sheet of paper from his shirt pocket. “My mom gave me a list of stuff to buy at the bulk food store.” He scratched his head while reciting the items, “Stone-ground buckwheat pancake batter, dried yellow currents, Havarti cheese, apricot chutney salsa…I don’t even know what these things are, let alone where to find them. They’re not like a gallon of milk and box of corn flakes.”

The three women laughed while James slicked a hand through his hair.

“Emma, do you think you could help me find them?” he asked. “The store is just one block from here.”

“No,” said one voice.

“
Jah
, sure,” answered another.

Hannah and Emma had spoken simultaneously, but Hannah continued, “I need to stop at that store too. We’ll both help you with your mother’s list.” She turned to face the shopkeeper. “We appreciate the streusel offer, and it sounds delicious, but we had better be on our way before it starts getting dark. Goodbye for now and thank you, Audrey.”

Hannah tugged Emma’s sleeve all the way to the door, calling to James along the way. “We’ll meet you inside Blanchey’s Bulk Foods, Mr. Davis. I want to move our wagon out of the loading zone.”

Emma stole a glance over her shoulder, but James had already gone out the side door. Drawing in a deep breath, she tried to calm her fluttery nerves. It would not do if anyone knew how excited she was about going shopping in a grocery store!