Never Far From Home (The Miller Family 2) (8 page)

The child spread a thick layer of jam on her bread and then used it to move oatmeal around in her bowl. “What are we doing,
mamm
?” she asked.

“We’ll be very busy. You will wish you were still in school. We’re planting peas, beans, and squash, setting tomato plants, and cutting spinach. Then we’ll seed two more rows of lettuce to eat later in the summer. And that’s just before lunch. Wait until you see how hard I work you this afternoon.” Hannah reached over to tug one of Phoebe’s braids.

“I’ll be a big help,” she said, pushing oatmeal over the rim of the bowl.

“Stop playing with your food,” Seth ordered. “Put your bowl in the sink and take your toast outside. Your ma will meet you in the garden.”

The child gazed at her father with wide-spaced, huge brown eyes. “Why can’t I wait for her right here?”

Seth lifted a brow. “I don’t need to give you a reason, daughter. But since the sun is shining and it’s a Tuesday, I will. I want to talk to your
mamm
, and I don’t want you to hear.” He leaned very close to the small child. “Do you have any more questions?”

Phoebe didn’t seem nearly as intimidated by her father as Hannah would have been at that age.

“Nope,” Phoebe said and scampered out the door with her toast.

“I was wondering why you were still hanging around,” Hannah said, refilling their coffee mugs.

“Does she always dawdle that much in the morning?”

“Pretty much. She’s a slow starter and doesn’t go strong till around dinnertime, when there’s precious little day left.” Hannah laughed, thinking how easily bugs, birds, and cloud formations distracted the child.

Seth shook his head. “I would amend your list of chores. With Phoebe along, you’ll be lucky to get one row of beans planted by lunch.”

Hannah studied Seth intently, trying to gauge his mood. “Maybe so, but it’s just the first day of vacation. Is that why you waited to speak to me—to make sure your girl isn’t sleeping on the job?” She sipped her coffee appreciatively.

Seth finished his in one gulp. “No, I wanted to tell you my reason for selling off your lambs yesterday.” He met her gaze over the rim of the cup.

This was one topic Hannah would have preferred never to speak about again, but she waited for him to continue.

“Now that the pasture grass has come in thick, I’m not growing another crop of hay. Or soybeans. And if I can harvest my Turkey Red winter wheat by the first of July, I’m thinking about taking over that field too.”

She stopped stacking the breakfast dishes to stare at him. “What are you planning to do? Dam up the creek and grow rice or maybe cranberries?”

One side of his mouth pulled into a grin. “Not this year. Maybe next if this doesn’t turn out well.” He laughed with a forced, hollow sound, while Hannah sat patiently waiting.

“I’m planting all corn this year, every acre other than my first hay crop.”

“Nothing else?” she asked. “You’ve always made money on alfalfa and with your soybeans.”

“Not that much once you subtract the costs and expenses. Not much profit to put toward taxes and equipment, let alone save for medical bills.” He rubbed the backs of his hands absently.

“Corn prices have never been higher,” he continued. “Other than my two pastures and woodlot, I’m putting every tillable acre into corn. We’ll finally be able to put money aside for a rainy day.” He scrambled awkwardly to his feet and then reached over to cup her chin with a calloused hand. “We don’t know what the future holds, Hannah. Simon said Julia could be facing major surgery on her knees and feet. And those operations don’t come cheap.” He ran a caressing finger along her jawbone.

Normally, Hannah savored his gentle touch, but now the gesture seemed distracting. “
Jah
, the district will have to pitch in as much as possible.”

“With the grain elevator buying up everything at great prices, we’ll be in a position to help them. I stand to make a good profit if corn is all I plant.”

Hannah got the distinct feeling he was trying to convince himself as much as her.

Unexpectedly, he leaned over and kissed her—in broad daylight, no less. “That’s why I had to sell off your additional livestock, to raise cash to invest in seed corn.” Seth left her to move to the stove to fill his insulated Thermos with the last of the coffee.

How far more benevolent “additional livestock” sounded instead of “newborn lambs” when describing taking animals to the market. Hannah’s temper simmered, but she held her tongue. What was done was done; bringing up a sore subject wouldn’t bring them back. Instead she asked, “What do you plan to feed your horses and cows come winter—buttered sweet corn? Cornbread with molasses? Popcorn with seasoned salt?”

Seth studied her expression before smiling tentatively, “Nah, I don’t want to spoil them,
fraa
. I’ll plant a late field of hay once the first crop of corn is in. I’ll still have time. If necessary, we can grind the last of the corn and stalks into extra silage. Or we’ll buy hay if we must—those prices are still pretty low.”

“Seth, don’t you think we should wait until—”

He didn’t let her finish. “That’s just it, Hannah. If I wait until everyone in the state is doing it, it’ll be too late. It’s about supply and demand. I want to get all I can harvested while the prices are high.” With that he tucked his Thermos under his arm and settled his hat on his head. “I think this will turn out to be one of our best decisions ever. Opportunities like this don’t come knocking every day.” He buzzed another kiss across the top of her head.

Hannah couldn’t kiss him back since she was too busy biting the inside of her cheek.
Opportunities like this? More like a chance to lose your shirt
. And why did he say “one of our best decisions ever” when she hadn’t had a chance to utter a word on the subject?

Her exhale was very close to a snort.

She wanted to at least suggest he discuss the matter with Simon, but Seth had already made up his mind.

Maybe he was right. Maybe this was a good chance to build up the rainy-day fund. Right now they couldn’t withstand more than a few days of drizzle, let alone a major calamity. Hannah had never questioned Seth’s judgment before, but now she’d done so three times in two weeks. He knew his business—several generations of Miller men had tilled this sweet, fertile Ohio land respectfully and successfully. She had no reason to doubt him.

But something niggled at the back of her mind. Something didn’t feel right.

Didn’t their
Ordnung
have plenty to say about subsistence and not planting more than your family and community needed? But how could they possibly know what their needs might be six months from now?

One thing was certain—trusting in the Lord had always served them before. Didn’t Hebrews 11:6 say, “It is impossible to please God without faith. Anyone who wants to come to him must believe that God exists and that he rewards those who sincerely seek him”?

But wasn’t it also said that “God helps those who help themselves”? Hannah felt confused. Seth might be the head of the household, but allowing her some say-so only seemed fair in a marriage.

Right now, she yearned to put yesterday’s foot-stomping bad temper and today’s doubtfulness behind her. She loved her husband with her whole heart. Tonight she would pray for guidance and for understanding regarding his new plan. That way, just in case Seth decided to ask for her opinion, she would be ready.

Julia gazed out the window at the steady downpour. How the weather mimicked her spirits. Although the rain would be good for the new seedlings, she could use a little sunshine to lift the tension in her house.

All because Emma had announced her
Rumschpringe
! Some boys and most girls sailed through these years between childhood and baptism without choosing to “run around.” But not her Emma.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t much she or Simon could do. This period of trial and testing-the-water was her right prior to joining the church and agreeing to accept the district’s
Ordnung
without question. After that, there would be no turning back. It would be different if she were a boy. A mother always worried that a girl would stray too far during this time and damage her reputation beyond repair.

Hadn’t they raised her to love God and live by His Word? If so, Julia needed to trust Him and trust that all things would be made right. But that wasn’t easy to do when your little girl grew more secretive by the day.

When Julia asked her why she had cut into the cake before it was frosted, Emma had shrugged her shoulders and grown sullen. Julia knew that a girl didn’t keep secrets about things that didn’t matter, but she was also smart enough to know that asking too many questions would only drive the child away.

And Simon? Ever since Emma announced she wished a full
Rumschpringe
, he seemed to leave the matter entirely up to his wife. But Julia witnessed him shaking his head and mumbling under his breath even more than usual.

This had to be harder on Simon than on her. After all, he was a district deacon; people turned to him for guidance with household problems. Emma’s decision to run around had put Simon in a quandary—and every other family member seemed to be scratching their heads as well. When she’d made her announcement, seven mouths dropped open wide enough to catch sparrows. Only Phoebe hadn’t looked shocked but had simply asked, “What’s a rump-spring?”

Matthew and Henry had then giggled, Leah looked worried, and Hannah had murmured to Phoebe, “I’ll explain tonight before bed. Now hush.” After that, everyone either went home or outside to his final evening chores. Julia had climbed the steps to her room and read several chapters from the book of Psalms. Psalm 34:19: “The righteous person faces many troubles, but the Lord comes to the rescue each time,” remained with her still, offering comfort and hopefully patience in dealing with her elder daughter—the latter even more necessary when Emma arrived downstairs to help with breakfast.

Her blue cape dress and white apron were neat and tidy. The white prayer
kapp
was in place, while her long wheat-colored hair had been bound into a tight bun. But across her forehead was a fringe of bangs, longer on the sides, shorter between her eyes. Overall, they were spiky and uneven.

“Emma! You’ve cut your hair!” Julia said, unable to keep from stating the obvious.

“
Jah
, do you like my bangs? I think they keep my forehead from looking so high.” Her blue eyes sparkled with delight. “Do they look straight? I found it hard to cut my own hair. I couldn’t figure out how to properly hold the scissors.”

Julia didn’t know where to begin. “No, I don’t much like them. And there’s not a thing wrong with your forehead. It’s no higher than anyone else’s.” Julia found herself gripping the chair back tightly as her knuckles turned white. “You know what the
Ordnung
says about a woman cutting her hair.” Julia knew what the response to that would be as soon as she spoke the words.

Emma poured a glass of milk. “I only cut a few bangs, not all my hair, Mother.” She set out the bowl of eggs and reached for the frying pan. “And after my baptism, when I join the church, I shall follow the
Ordnung
. This is my
Rumschpringe
, remember?” She glanced at Julia over the refrigerator door.

How could Julia forget? Now she would see a choppy reminder each time she looked at her daughter. “
Jah
, I remember, but I wish you would’ve discussed this with us first. We are still your parents,
Rumschpringe
or not.”

Emma shrugged her shoulders. The bodice of her dress wasn’t quite as loose as it had been when the dress had been made. “It’s only hair. It’ll grow out. Should I scramble the eggs? We’ve got mushrooms turning black; I could chop them and use them up.”

“
Jah
, scrambled then. Melt the last piece of cheddar over the top.” Julia walked to the stove to begin frying bacon. She caught the sweet scent of peaches on Emma. “What’s that I smell?” she asked. “It reminds me of peaches, but we don’t have any this early.”

“Peach body lotion and spray mist,” Emma answered without meeting her mother’s eye. “I got them at the dollar store for two dollars each. Don’t they smell nice?”

“Nothing wrong with the clean smell of Ivory soap,” Julia muttered. “I hope the hens appreciate all the trouble you’ve gone to this morning, because after breakfast I want you and Leah to scrub out the chicken cages and wash down the henhouse walls with bleach. Pour the bleach water over the floor when you’re done. Shoo the hens outside and put up a gate so they can’t go back in until you’re done and everything has dried. Have Matthew haul over a couple fresh straw bales. That building is starting to smell bad.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Emma stirred the chopped mushrooms into her eggs and milk.

Yes, ma’am?
Emma hated this particular chore and usually pleaded or bargained zealously to get out of it.

When Emma had poured the mixture into the pan, she washed her hands and sat down at the table. “
Mamm
, I’d like to ask you and
daed
for something.” Her tone was as sweet as honey dripping down buttermilk biscuits.