The Way to a Man's Heart (The Miller Family 3) (41 page)

One or two of the rescues from the kill pen stood out from the rest. Although he’d been pleased with the progress he and Henry had made with the lot, a haflinger filly had captured his heart. She’d been weak and emaciated when he’d bought her, with more than one digestive woe. Dr. Longo had saved her life and accepted no compensation for his hard work. She’d been steadily gaining weight and thriving ever since. Matthew fed her a handful of dandelion heads every day as a digestive aid. His Aunt Hannah called dandelions antacids for horses, and she’d picked several burlap bagfuls before the first frost killed the plants to the roots. She’d spread them out to dry on her worktable and then presented them bow-tied as though a special gift. Aunt Hannah had taken a shine to Sam. As did her son, Ben, and just about everyone else who laid eyes on her. Several had offered to purchase her when rehabilitation was complete, but this was one horse Matthew would be hard pressed to part with.

When he reached the paddock and whistled through his teeth, Sam came running. With her dark eyes flashing and silky blond mane flying in the breeze she looked impressive, if still on the lean side. He reached through the rails to scratch her nose and received a soft whinny for his efforts.

“Matthew Miller, I hope you’re not doing any training over there, this being the Lord’s day and all.”

The cherished voice of Martha Hostetler rang in his ears, causing the hairs on his neck to stand straight up. He wheeled around and almost knocked her down in the tall grass. How she’d crept up without his knowledge was a mystery. “No, ma’am. I was just having a private conversation with my favorite student, no work involved.”

Martha leaned up against the paddock rails to stroke the horse’s flank. Surprisingly, Sam didn’t shy away from the unfamiliar hand. “Well, I must say you picked a beauty to chitchat with. I guess I can’t blame you for running out the moment the service was over. What’s her name?”

“Miss Hostetler, this is Sam. Sam, I’d like you to meet Miss Martha Hostetler.”

Both species of females peered at him oddly. Martha ducked her head low to assess the animal’s underbelly. “I do believe this is a
girl
horse.”

“Sam is short for Samantha.”

“Have you lost your mind?” she asked, fighting back a smile. She reached up to scratch an ear.

Matthew blushed nearly to the color of his hair. “It’s possible. I guess I spend too much time with horses since you took up with John Yoder.”

She stopped stroking the beast and turned to face him. “Took up with John Yoder? Is that what you think?” She squinted in the sunlight.

“Jah,
I saw him taking you home from a singing a couple months ago.” Matthew steeled his resolve and met her gaze. “I assumed you two were courting.”

She clucked her tongue. “That was some very serious jumping to conclusions, I’d say. He took me home,
jah,
but I nearly dozed off along the way. All he talked about was baseball. Since he began
Rumschpringe
he listens to Cleveland Indians games on a transistor radio. I can’t see the big deal about hitting a ball with a stick and then running around a bunch of sandbags.”

He smirked. “I’m not much of a fan either. So…you two aren’t courting?”

“No, and you would know that if you bothered to come to a social outing now and then.”

He scuffed his shiny black Sunday shoes in the dirt. “That’s very interesting,” he mumbled, feeling like an idiot.

Martha turned her attention back to Sam. “Say, is this one of the horses you and Henry rescued?” she asked. “I need to stop by on a day other than the Sabbath to take one off your hands. I appreciate what you did, and I’d like to buy one for my open buggy, if any are suitable.” Her smile revealed perfectly straight teeth and her generous heart.

“This one is the best of the lot. Her problems were strictly medical. Once Dr. Longo cleared up bad digestion, she’s been the easiest horse to train. She responds to verbal commands, besides the reins. She would make a great buggy horse.”

Martha patted Sam’s neck. “I don’t recognize the breed.”

“She’s a haflinger from Austria, bred originally to work in the mountains for farming and as a pack horse. They’re good for light draft work, harness, driving, even saddle riding, if you want to follow in Rachel’s footsteps.” He clamped his jaw closed before he landed in the same category as John Yoder with baseball.

“I have no intention of climbing onto her back, but she is a beauty.”

“She’s not the only one.” Matthew spoke the words so softly they may not have been heard.

But Martha’s blushing cheeks indicated otherwise. “Don’t change the subject. I believe I want this horse when you’re done training…if, of course, you set a fair price.” She winked at him without an ounce of shyness. “But right now my stomach is growling for food. Do you think there’ll be anything left for us?”

“I’m sure there will be, and you’ll find my price for the horse quite reasonable,” he said, deciding to make Sam a Christmas gift if things went well between them. He stuck out his arm. “Why not grab hold on our way to lunch? You never know when a gopher hole lurks beneath the leaves to trip you.”

She rolled her eyes but took his elbow just the same. “I brought my lemon bars for the dessert table. If memory serves correctly, you were fond of them.”

Matthew couldn’t stop grinning, and it had nothing to do with lemon bars. Martha was walking by his side, and she actually seemed to like him.

He would probably be smiling up until New Year’s.

“Git up there, Bo,” Emma called. She grabbed at the reins in Jamie’s hands. “Can’t you make this former
race horse
go any faster?” She tugged the wool blanket up to her chin.

“Easy,
fraa.
It’s a long way to Winesburg with plenty of hills in between. Let’s not tire him. We’ll get there by and by.” Just the same, Jamie clucked his tongue and Bo marginally picked up the pace.

“You seem awfully calm for a man who yesterday was jumping up and down and shouting to the hills at the top of his lungs.” Emma snuggled close to his side.

Jamie put an arm around her shoulders. “The news that you’re pregnant did make my day, and I thought the people living in Canton might like to hear about it”

“It is a blessing,
jah,
but don’t use that term for me—say ‘with child’ or ‘expecting a
bopplin.’
My old-fashioned
daed
thinks only horses, cows, or hogs should be described as pregnant.”

James laughed. “How do you think your parents will react? Has Simon finally accepted the fact I’m not going to shave off my beard and run off with a pack of English motorcycle riders?”

Emma tried to pinch his arm, but too many layers of wool made it impossible.
“Daed
likes you just fine. He grunts and groans a lot around everybody.”

“We’ll have to see if his reaction can match that of my parents. Dad just stared dumbfounded for a while, and then he blushed and hugged me, something he never does. And my mom? She crossed her arms and said, ‘Right after moving into your new house? I would’ve gotten this project going sooner if I’d known that’s all it would take.’ ”

Emma giggled. “Mom Davis sounds happy to no longer have me underfoot in her kitchen.”

“Nope. She’s just happy to finally become a grandma. She’s been jealous of some of her friends. You might see her at our new house so often, it’ll seem like we never moved.”

“Danki,
Jamie,” she murmured.

“For what, dear one?”

“For taking me home today to tell my family. I just couldn’t wait for Christmas. My
mamm’s
eager for grandchildren too. And I can’t wait to find out how things are between Leah and Jonah. It’s not too late for them to take the classes and get baptized this winter.”

“Whoa. Settle down, Emma. If they are courting, you don’t want to scare the guy off, do you? Let him get to know the unusual Miller girls at a snail’s pace.”

Emma glared from beneath her lashes. “If I didn’t know you better, James Davis, I’d say you were trying to rile me. But it’s not going to work. I’ve made up my mind to be joyous today…and tomorrow and for many days to come.” Emma filled her lungs with the crisp cold air and decided to count houses until they reached her parents’ home. Before she reached triple digits, James pulled up the long Miller driveway, still lined on both sides with buggies. Many had stayed for an afternoon of socializing after church.

“We’re here and it’s still daylight,” he announced.

“Oh, Jamie, look!” Emma exclaimed, pointing at two people under a tree.

Beneath the bare branches of a huge oak stood Leah and a tall, dark-haired man that had to be Jonah Byler. And if the way they were looking at each other was any indication, Emma’s
other
prayer had just been answered.

“You have to talk to me some time, Leah,” Jonah said. “I’m not going home until you do. And it will look mighty suspicious to your
daed
come Tuesday when I’m still hanging around the backyard.”

Leah stopped in her tracks and turned around. “I’m not avoiding you, Jonah, but when you’re the hosting family you’re expected to do the lion’s share of running back and forth from house to barn. I can’t very well let my
mamm
overdo.” Carrying a tray of bowls and platters to be washed, she walked back to where he stood.

“Looks like you’ve been chatting up a storm with everybody but me. I’m starting to think you don’t like me.” He cocked his head and winked, not looking at all as though his feelings were hurt.

“I’m trying to make sure no one harbors ill will from the problems at the diner.”

“Why don’t you let me help? Then you’ll get done faster and we can spend some time together. Just tell me what to do.”

“Carry these to the house and I’ll get another load. As soon as they are washed, I can take a break.” She handed him her tray and hurried back to the barn. The buffet table had been picked down to broken cookies, dried out casseroles, and wilted salads.

Jonah delivered the dirty dishes and was shoed out of the kitchen by the women. Leah found him rocking in the porch swing when she climbed the steps with another armload. “I’ll wait for you right here,” he said. “And look, there’s room for one more.” He patted the seat beside him and winked again boldly.

She blushed to her hair roots. “Let me wash these and then I’ll be back.”

But inside the overheated kitchen, Julia had other ideas. When Leah set the stack of bowls in the sink and reached for the scrubbing pad, Julia said, “Go back outside, daughter. You have someone waiting for you.”

“No, I won’t have you doing my work.” Leah gently nudged her mother aside so she could reach the dishwashing liquid.

Julia bumped Leah with her hip so hard that Leah had to grab the counter for balance. She stared at her mother gape mouthed as the other women giggled like schoolgirls.

“Can’t you see I already have plenty of helpers?” Julia asked. “Do as I say before I go cut a switch.”

“You’ve never switched me in my life,” Leah muttered, drying her hands on a towel.

“It’s not too late to start.” Julia’s eyes twinkled with more mischief than anger as she pointed at the back door. “Now go.”

Leah tossed the towel on the counter and walked out to meet her fate. She
had
been avoiding Jonah. She had secretly dreaded asking some questions—ones she’d steered clear of on the drive home from the courthouse. But she needed answers before her heart became hopelessly entangled again.

Jonah jumped up the moment she appeared in the doorway. “My goodness, you’re fast. Must have been all that practice at the diner.”

“Let’s take a walk instead of swinging,” she said, glancing back toward the kitchen window. Someone had parted the curtains just a tad.

“Do you miss it?” he asked as they started down the steps.

“Miss the diner?
Jah,
I guess so, but I’ve been so busy I don’t know how I managed working four days a week, plus one day of baking.” She turned to face him. “Where are we headed? I don’t want to wander too far. I still have plenty of cleaning up yet to do.”