The Longing (23 page)
“Good to meet you, Christian.” He shook the English fellow’s hand.
“And, Chris, this is Reuben Fisher. . . .” Caleb’s voice drifted off. Reuben wondered if he’d been about to add
Nellie Mae’s father.
Christian studied him. “Fisher, you said?”
“That’s right.”
“You wouldn’t, by any chance, know of a bakery shop called Nellie’s Simple Sweets?” Christian asked, eyes fixed on him.
“Why, that’s my daughter’s little place—well, she does most of the bakin’, anyways.”
Christian’s face beamed, but he quickly became more subdued.
“Nice meetin’ ya,” Reuben said as Caleb pushed the wheelchair around the side of the house.
“Very nice to meet you!” Christian called over his shoulder.
Such enthusiasm.
“What the world?” Reuben muttered on the way back to his horse and wagon.
“You must’ve stopped in at Nellie’s shop,” Caleb said once they’d gotten Daed back inside and resting in his room. He handed his cousin a glass of lemonade.
“I’ve been a couple times, yeah. I bought some pies to surprise my family,” Chris said, taking a seat out near the woodpile. “The best I’ve ever tasted.”
Caleb wished to goodness Chris hadn’t brought up Nellie’s wonderful-good baking. Nobody’s compared, that he knew of. Not even his own mother’s tasty desserts held a candle to Nellie’s. “Ever have her peach pie?” he asked, making small talk.
Chris shook his head. “Not in season right now.”
“Jah . . . long out of season.” Caleb knew he shouldn’t have said it like that, as if he were trying to reveal more than he really cared to.
Chris rose, still holding the lemonade glass—empty now. “Well, I’d better let you get back to your family,” he said. “I need to return my dad’s van.”
“I sure appreciate it—and I know Daed does, ’specially.”
“Not a problem,” replied Chris. “Maybe sometime your dad and mine can get together again.”
“I think Daed might like that.” Caleb walked with him toward the large van.
“I wonder if Nellie’s bakery shop is still open—do you know?” Chris looked at his wristwatch.
Caleb used to know the minute Nellie closed her shop, but that was another time. Things might have changed. “Can’t say I do.”
“Well, maybe I’ll stop by and see.”
Caleb couldn’t help but notice the unfamiliar glint in Chris’s eye, and he wondered just how well his cousin knew Nellie Mae Fisher.
“Ach, why don’t you stay for supper?” Rosanna pleaded.
Nellie Mae didn’t want to overextend her welcome. “You sure I’m not imposing?”
Rosanna smiled sweetly. “Maybe we can get in another hour or so of quilting afterward. All right?”
She’d come to help Rosanna stitch up the three baby quilts meant for the expectant women in Bird-in-Hand. “I’ll stay if you want,” she said. “But only if you let me cook supper.”
“No, no . . . I’m not an invalid,” laughed Rosanna. “I can help.”
So they agreed to make supper together, and Rosanna chattered about how much better she was feeling. “I wish you could’ve heard Elias pray after I had such pain on the ride home Sunday afternoon.”
Nellie smiled. “I put your name and the baby’s at the top of my prayer list.”
Rosanna sliced four hard-boiled eggs to make deviled eggs, grinning. “Seems to me, with all of us prayin’, just maybe this time I’ll keep my baby.”
“The Lord knows how you long for a son for Elias.”
She removed the golden yellow yolks and began to mash them with some homemade salad dressing. “I honestly don’t have my hopes up much at all, Nellie,” she said softly.
“It’s normal to be cautious.”
“S’pose so . . . which is why Elias and I’ve decided to accept Lena Stoltzfus’s baby.” Rosanna looked up at her. “Well, that’s not the only reason.”
“What do you mean?”
“The main reason was the content of her letter. Elias pointed out to me that it was rather prophetic.” She mashed some mustard into the mixture and then added salt.
Nellie waited to hear more, stunned at her friend’s change of heart.
“Lena seemed to know—maybe the Lord showed her as she was writing—that the divine lot would fall on Elias last Sunday.”
Nellie Mae stopped peeling potatoes to look at her. “You don’t mean it!”
“She wrote about wanting her babe to be raised in ‘the House of the Lord.’ ”
“Well, how on earth did she know?”
Rosanna shook her head, shrugging slightly. “Would ya like to read the letter?”
“No, that’s all right.” A little shiver ran down her back. Truth be known, Nellie was stunned. Why was Elias hoping to raise Lena’s baby while praying so hard for Rosanna’s and his own child, asking God to help her carry it to term?
It was prayer-meeting night at the Beachy church in Honey Brook. But Rhoda sat in Ken’s comfortable living room in Strasburg, her feet up on the plush ottoman as she sipped a thick vanilla milkshake she’d made for herself, against her better judgment.
“You prefer that shake to, say, some dessert wine?” Ken teased, winking at her. He placed his wine glass on the coffee table and slid over next to her on the sofa.
She pouted. “I’ve all but busted my calorie count for today, so I might as well stick with what I’ve got here.” She’d already indulged in a juicy steak, grilled out on the balcony by none other than “the chef,” as Ken playfully referred to himself.
“Aw, honey, you’ll get back on the wagon again.”
She didn’t ask what that meant. Truth was, she was miserable, and when she was this blue, she ate. Not healthy fare, but fatty foods like this thick milkshake made with loads of ice cream, extra sugar, and topped with oodles of real whipped cream. Not to mention the two cherries.
He slipped his arm around her. “Why the sad face?”
Dare she tell him? He was altogether thoughtful and wonderful tonight.
Even so . . .
Taking a deep breath, she knew this was not the time to talk about her desire for a family.
“I’ll be all right,” she whispered, her face close to his.
When we’re married and planning our first baby . . .
He kissed the back of her hand. “Are you worried about moving away from your brother’s? Because the room I showed you will be vacant by Friday. Just say the word and it’s yours.”
She wanted far more
than to be Ken’s tenant.
“We’d see each other every day.” He smiled.
Sitting up straighter, she pulled away gently. “Ken . . . please, can we talk this over?”
“What’s to talk about? You need a place to live. How hard is this?”
She nodded but inside she felt tense.
What would my family think?
“I’m falling in love with you, Rhoda. We’ll have more time together . . . to get to know each other.”
I’m already in love with you.
She faced him, letting him kiss her gently. “I don’t want to do anything that would look . . . well, questionable,” she said.
“How can it be wrong to rent a room from your soon-to-be fiancé?”
Her heart beat faster. Was he nearly ready to propose? She couldn’t help but smile up at him.
He’ll change his mind about a family once we’re married,
she thought, wrapped up in his arms.
His cousin seemed restless when Chris arrived after school Friday with Billy Zercher in tow. Billy had been rather quiet on the first part of the drive, as he usually was in the junior boys’ class, but as soon as the Amish farms came into view and the road opened up, Billy became more talkative. Then if he didn’t hit it off surprisingly well with Caleb, who seemed to brighten as he took Billy on a tour of the place. In no time, Billy was calling him Cousin Caleb.
Rebekah caught up with Chris in the barn once Caleb took Billy over to the milk house to show him where the milk was cooled and stored. “I hoped I’d have a chance to talk with you again.” She wiped her hands on her long, black work apron, her hands still dirty from her work in the vegetable garden. “I wanna say how glad I am for Caleb that he has you to talk to.”
Chris smiled. “I enjoy talking to him, too.”
She seemed to study him. “You know, back when we were little kids, I always thought you and Caleb could pass for brothers. And I still think that sometimes when I see you two workin’ together.” She tilted her head, her eyes thoughtful. “You’ve prob’ly heard about our church split. It’s been hard on all of us, but on Caleb more than most.” She paused, looking down. “I guess I shouldn’t be sayin’ anything, ’tis such a private subject, but Caleb and his girl got caught in the middle of that. It really hurt to see him end up, well, single again . . . even though I understand why they broke up.”
He didn’t know how to respond, or even if he should. Fact was, he’d only heard bits and pieces from Caleb, who was guarded about church talk . . . and his former girlfriend.
“She is the most hardworking, pleasant girl I think I know,” Rebekah was saying. “I was lookin’ forward to having her as my sister-in-law.”
Just then Caleb returned with Billy, who was holding a glass of fresh cow’s milk. “Look what Cousin Caleb gave me,” Billy said, eyes shining.
Chris couldn’t keep from grinning at this usually forlorn boy. “Did you get to see how the lines carry the milk to the big tank?” he asked Billy, who nodded his head, still smiling bigger than Chris had ever seen him.
He’s definitely out of his shell!
Chris suddenly wondered if Billy might like one of Nellie’s delicious cookies to go with his milk—he hoped she would be at her shop this time. Chris could feel his own smile widen at the thought.
As April gave way to May, the lengthening days became ever busier. With the help of James and Benjamin, Dat prepared the cornfield for planting, and Nellie and Nan took turns helping Mamma with early morning weeding in the family vegetable garden and the charity garden pledged to Preacher Elias. Keeping up with the necessary baking was a challenge without the help of either Suzy or Rhoda, but somehow the three Fisher women managed. Life was a flurry of action since spring had sprung, yet with warmer days finally enticing them outdoors, Nellie made time for after-supper walks with Nan. The plentiful wild flowers reminded them of Suzy.
Nellie wondered how Rhoda was getting along over in Strasburg. Martha had said she’d moved last month into a big house owned by her beau, a real estate agent.
“I hope this worldly man doesn’t break her heart,”
Martha had whispered to Mamma. Nellie also was concerned. She knew all too well how difficult breaking up could be.
As for Nan, her face literally shone whenever Nellie Mae looked her way. Even right this minute, all smudged with dirt from the garden, Nan was glowing.
“We could be in for a hot day.” Nellie stopped to catch her breath and observe the blazing gold of the sunrise beyond the potato field.
Nan paused, too, staring down at the long rows of celery before them. “Why do ya think Mamma insisted on planting so much celery?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Nellie smiled.
“She must guess I’m serious about a beau.”
“Well, aren’t you?”
Nan blushed. “Oh, Nellie . . . Ezekiel’s just the best ever. I love him so.”
“You wear your happiness on your face,” Nellie said. “I daresay you’ve been through the mill and back.”
“Well, and so have you.” Nan started to hoe again. “But I think there’s someone who’s more than just a little interested in you these days.”
Nellie was afraid of this—worried, really. Christian Yoder had become a regular customer of the bakery shop, a fact not lost on Nan or Mamma.
“You’d think Chris Yoder’s mother doesn’t know how to bake at all.” Nan looked at her askance.
She had to respond. Truth was, she’d felt Chris’s interested gaze more than once. She’d also contemplated the time he’d driven her home, when Jacob King’s buggy broke down. “As nice as he seems, he’s surely got himself a girlfriend,” Nellie said casually.
“Jah, I would say so.” Nan was grinning to beat the band. “If only in his imagination.”
“Oh, now, I hope you don’t mean what I’m thinkin’.”
“Well, what
do
you think, Nellie Mae?”
She didn’t honestly know, and the more she tried to dismiss his weekly visits, the more peculiar they seemed. To compound things, Dat had mentioned some time ago that he’d met up with Chris over at the Yoders’. Word had it he was working in the barn and milking with Caleb, for goodness’ sake.
“You ignoring me?” Nan asked.
She laughed nervously. “I think Chris is just a friendly fella. And he knows good bakin’ when he sees it . . . well,
tastes
it.”
That brought more laughter from Nan, and they finished weeding the celery and then headed for the lettuce rows, knowing Mamma was keeping an eye on the baking pies. Nellie was thankful the awkward conversation was over.
Nellie sat on her bed that evening, all wrapped up in her bathrobe and wishing she’d taken Rosanna up on reading Lena Stoltzfus’s letter. She simply could not understand why Elias and Rosanna were willing to take another such risk, accepting Lena’s baby as their own.
If Rosanna were thinking clearly, she wouldn’t. Not after the nightmare with her own cousin.
But Nellie had no choice but to trust her friends’ judgment, and since Elias had evidently said the letter was discerning, she shouldn’t question that. Especially now that Elias had been ordained by God for the new congregation. Still, she would keep praying for protection over Rosanna’s fragile heart.
She opened her Bible to find the picture of Suzy she’d slipped between the pages of John, in chapter three—the chapter that had been the turning point for Dat and Mamma last fall. Looking now at Suzy’s face, she sighed, wishing she knew what her sister had known
about Christian and Zachary Yoder.
What a strange thing, Chris’s visit to the bakery shop each week. Every Thursday afternoon now he came happily to purchase a pie or two—“for my family,” he would say, looking right at Nellie Mae with his endearing grin. She couldn’t help but wonder when Mamma might make something of it like Nan had today.
Surely Suzy would have felt uneasy at first about going with a boy outside the Amish community. Yet according to her diary, she had been drawn to the Yoders. Quite strongly, in fact. Perhaps because she was fed up with worldly Jay Hess. Nellie remembered having read the final section enough times to know that Chris and Zach were honorable and good
. As fine as any young men I’ve ever known,
Suzy had written.
