Rachel's Garden (27 page)

“All right.” Her giving-in was hardly more than a whisper. “I won’t be.”

 

“I’m
here.” Rachel maneuvered the folded-up quilting frame through the back door at Leah and Daniel’s farmhouse. “Leah? I’ve brought the quilting frame.”

Leah came through from the living room, skirting carefully around the kitchen table. “I’ll help you with that.”

“No, you will not.” She pulled the frame away from Leah’s hands. “Tell me where to put this. And then tell me how you’re feeling. Are there any signs that this babe plans to arrive before tomorrow’s quilting?”

“I wish there were.” Leah crinkled her nose, half-laughing, half-serious. “Well, not really, I suppose. Everyone is looking forward to the quilting, and I wouldn’t want to disappoint them.”

“We’d all understand how that feels, having been through those last weeks of being pregnant ourselves.” Rachel followed her into the living room and set the frame where she indicated.

Leah grasped one side, helping her to snap the legs into place. “This is such a nice frame. I love how it folds up. If I actually did as much quilting as my mamm, I’d want one like it.”

“It is nice.” Rachel ran her hand along the side pole nearest her. “Ezra put it together from a kit, he did.” He’d been so pleased with how it turned out that she seemed to see his smile each time she used it. “I shortened the poles to sixty inches for the crib quilt.”

“Ser gut. Using two frames will be faster and easier, I think.” Leah lowered herself into a rocking chair. At nine months’ pregnant, she was ready to sit every chance she got.

Several feet away, another frame occupied one corner of the room. “I see you have your mamm’s frame up already, ja?”

Leah nodded, rocking a little. “Daniel and Daadi set it up last night. They’re willing enough to help get things ready for the quilting, but they’re both planning to make themselves scarce while the work is going on.”

“Gut. We don’t want them listening in on our conversation. They might blush.” Rachel brushed her hands together, not that there had been any dust on the quilt frame. “I’ll just go and bring in the food I brought for tomorrow.”

“I’ll help—”

“You’ll sit still.” Rachel bent to press her cheek against Leah’s. “You’re supposed to be staying off your feet, remember?”

Leah’s lips curled upward. “How can I forget, the way everyone keeps reminding me? Anyway, the midwife says it’s not so crucial, now that I’m about full-term.”

“Rest anyway. I’ll put things in the kitchen, and then we can set up the quilts and get ready for tomorrow.”

“Gut. We’ll have a chance to talk while we do that.”

The wistful note in Leah’s voice registered, and guilt trickled through Rachel. She hadn’t spent near enough time with Leah this past week. And even now, when she was here, her mind skittered off like a waterbug to all the other things she had to do.

“As much talk as you have energy for.” She gave Leah a quick hug. “I’ll be right back.”

Two more trips to the buggy, and she’d brought in everything she’d prepared for the quilting—the pieced tops for the baby quilts, several loaves of banana nut bread, a huge tin of jumble cookies that her mamm had made, and a couple jars of strawberry preserves.

Plenty more food would arrive tomorrow. Every woman who came would bring something, so there’d be lots left for Leah’s family to enjoy, for sure.

She carried the quilt tops, wrapped in clean sheets to protect them, into the living room and laid them on the table, then got out the backing pieces and her pincushion.

“You have to let me help with this, at least.” Leah levered herself out of the chair with her arms, sighing a little. “I feel as if I need a crane to get me up and down these days.”

“Give it a little time, and you’ll be feeling as if you need one to pry your eyes open.” Rachel spread the backing piece for one quilt carefully over the frame, stretching it firm, and then began to pin.

Leah took a handful of pins and started on the opposite side. “We’ve done a lot of things together over the years, but I never thought we’d be doing this for a babe of mine.”

Heart full, Rachel touched Leah’s hand. “It’s wonderful gut to share the excitement of the boppli coming along.”

“You never expected it to happen either.” Teasing filled Leah’s voice. “Admit it, now. You thought I was destined to be a maidal forever.”

“That’s not true.” Although it had seemed, at times, as if Leah had been almost too content with her single life. “I’m the one who pushed you toward Daniel, remember?”

“You and the rest of the church.” Leah ran her hand down over her belly in a caressing movement. “I don’t regret it now, but there were certainly times when I wished everyone would mind their own business instead of mine.”

“I know just what you mean.” The words had brought Rachel’s concerns about Gideon and Johnny back to the fore, not that they were ever far from her mind. “There’s something—”

She hesitated. But if she couldn’t talk to Leah about this or anything else, then the world had turned upside-down already.

“Something that’s worrying you?” Leah caught her mood instantly. “Tell me.”

“I’m maybe being foolish about it.”

She unfolded the batting piece and spread it over the backing. Was she? She just couldn’t decide. She’d told Gideon she wouldn’t argue with him about it, but it seemed she couldn’t stop arguing with herself.

“You’ll feel the better for talking, then.” Leah slid a pin through the batting. “Out with it.”

Rachel nodded, concentrating on lining the batting edge up perfectly. “You know about Bishop Mose lending me the money to pay Gideon for the new windmill, already. Well, for one thing, I got Gideon to admit that he’s not charging me full price for it.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything else.” Leah’s voice was firm. “Rachel Brand, if that’s what’s bothering you, you’re foolish indeed. Gideon was Ezra’s closest friend. Naturally he wouldn’t expect the same amount from you as he would someone he doesn’t even know.”

“That’s what he said.”

“Well, he’s right.”

“But he told me something else—” She sent Leah a troubled look. “You must agree not to say anything of this to anyone.”

The laughter faded from Leah’s face. “Of course.”

“Somehow Gideon got together with Johnny. I don’t know how, exactly. And they hatched a ... a plot, that’s what it was. And Bishop Mose went in on it.” She still found that hard to believe. “Gideon says that Johnny’s clinic is throwing extra work to the harness shop. It’s all a way of letting Johnny help out, even though they won’t admit that.”

“What did Gideon say when you told him that?”

“That he didn’t know what the arrangements were, and that if Bishop Mose was satisfied, then I should be, as well.”

Leah was quiet for a moment, as if absorbing it all. “Gideon gave you gut advice. I think you should take it.”

“But—”

Leah shook her head, lines crinkling around her green eyes. “Rachel, no buts about it. Bishop Mose would not do anything wrong. And besides, we both know that’s not what you’re fussed about anyway.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you’re annoyed at all of them for going behind your back and trying to help you. That you’re so bent on providing for the children yourself that you think no one else can do anything.”

“If it was you—”

“If it was me, I’d maybe make the same mistake. But I hope I could count on a gut friend who’d point it out to me.”

Rachel was still for a moment, absorbing Leah’s words. Was she being prideful, holding back from accepting the love and help others wanted to share?

“You should accept all the support you’re offered,” Leah said. “All of it.”

Something—some note in Leah’s familiar voice—sounded an alarm in her. She knew Leah so well. She knew when something was being left unsaid.

“What, Leah?” She reached across the frame to catch Leah’s hand and hold it tightly. “You’re thinking of something beyond this. I can tell.”

Leah’s lips pressed together tightly, as if she’d hold the words back. “I wasn’t sure whether I’d tell you this or not. It’s just gossip, when it comes right down to it, and maybe nothing behind it at all except someone’s imagination embroidering what was said.”

A cold compress seemed to press against the back of Rachel’s neck, dripping its chill down her spine. “I’d still rather hear it, whatever it is.”

“Daniel heard it when he went to the farrier’s to have the horses reshod this morning. Some of the men were talking. You know how they linger there and gossip, even though they insist that it’s only women who do that.”

Rachel could picture the scene well enough, the men leaning against wagons, watching the shoeing, exchanging all the news of the day. She’d never expected that she’d be the subject of their talk.

“Just tell me, Leah.”

“It maybe means nothing at all.” Reluctance dragged at Leah’s words. “But they were saying that Isaac is furious about the idea that you might be leasing the farm to an Englischer, instead of selling it to him for Caleb.”

Rachel’s tension eased. If that was all it was—“I already knew Isaac was angry about that, but I haven’t made a decision yet. I’m thinking on what Mr. Carver said, that’s all.”

“The talk is that Isaac isn’t willing to wait for your decision.” Leah took a breath, seeming to push the words out. “They’re saying that he’s going to the bishop and the ministers with a complaint about your conduct.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

R
achel
worried at it all the way back to her parents’ place to pick up Mary. Leah had continued to reassure her, repeating that it was rumor, nothing more. And even if Isaac had said that in a fit of temper, he might easily have changed his mind once he’d calmed down. And even if he did complain about her ...

Rachel’s mind refused to go there. Leah could say that she should present her own argument to the elders. That they would understand if she explained it to them.

Leah was braver than she was, for sure. Leah, with her years of teaching behind her, had a self-possession and ability to express herself that Rachel would never achieve, no matter how she tried.

If it came to an open conflict, Rachel knew perfectly well what would happen. She’d give in, restoring peace and harmony to the church.

The English world wouldn’t understand that. It seemed to be built on competition, and even Johnny had been influenced by that, talking about doing better than a colleague to compete for a position.

Things were not like that among the Leit, the Amish people. Cooperation was valued, not competition. She would give up what she wanted rather than cause a rift in the family that was the church.

She turned into the lane and slowed the horse to a walk as they approached the house. Daadi was at the edge of the garden, in conversation with Jacob Esh, the son of his second cousin. Jacob, just a year out of school, was working the farm with Daad, learning as he earned a bit of money. At the moment he was plowing the garden, and he looked as if Daad was giving him a bit more advice than he thought he needed.

Fortunately for Jacob, Daadi saw her. He waved and headed across the lawn toward her.

He reached her as she mounted the porch steps.

“You’re putting the garden in already, I see.”

“Ja.” He sent a glance toward Jacob, toiling across the length of the garden. “Jacob thought we should wait another week for the soil to dry more, but I’m ready to get peas and spinach in the ground.”

“How is Jacob shaping up?” She’d be happy to keep the conversation on someone other than herself for as long as possible.

Daadi gave a snort, but his eyes held a twinkle. “Like most young folks. Thinks he knows more than his elders. He’s a gut boy, though, and does what I ask, I will say that.”

“He’ll learn a lot from you.” She studied her father’s face as she spoke. She’d have said that he never seemed to age, but something—worry or tension, maybe—was exaggerating the lines around his eyes.

“Ja, well, he’ll turn into a gut farmer, I have no doubt. Maybe he’ll be taking this place over one day.” He gazed across the field toward the orchard, shielding his eyes with his hand.

Her breath caught. That was the first time her father had spoken of the future he envisioned for the farm, now that Johnny was gone.

She didn’t know what to say to that, so maybe it was best to say nothing. “I’d best get Mary ready to go home.”

Before she could reach for the door, Daad stopped her with a quick gesture. “She’s still napping, I think, judging by the quiet. Walk down to the pond with me, ja? Komm.”

He turned, not waiting for an answer, and she fell into step with him.

He didn’t speak as they walked side by side across the lawn. When she was young, she’d trailed him everywhere around the farm. Most of the time he’d been silent, but that hadn’t bothered her. It had been a comfortable, accepting kind of silence, and she’d learned much even from the things he didn’t say.

She waved at Jacob as they passed the garden. Both hands gripping the plow, he couldn’t wave back, but he gave her a nod and a smile.

The day was warming, even though the grass dampened her shoes as they started through the grove of trees to the pond. She and Johnny had come this way together more times than she could count, on their way to catch tadpoles in the pond, most likely, or to grasp at fireflies in the dusk.

A pang of longing pierced her heart. If she had those days back again, she would cherish her moments with him, knowing that the time would come when they’d be few and far between.

Daadi stopped at the bench he’d built on the edge of the pond, so Mamm could enjoy sitting there in the evenings. He sat down, patting the space next to him.

Rachel sat, too, bracing herself. A private conversation with Daad would undoubtedly be on the subject of her stubbornness.