Wonderful Lonesome (43 page)

Willem shook Melton Wood’s hand on the wide porch of the Wood house. “I appreciate your seeing me so quickly.”

“No point in wasting time,” Melton said. “I need a hand. If you’re serious about wanting the work, I’m happy to take you on. You did a good job digging coal for us.”

“How soon would you want me to start?” Willem tilted his head and scratched behind his ear.

“Let’s see.” Melton looked up at the overhang shading them. “This is Thursday afternoon. I think Monday will be soon enough. How is that for you?”

Willem nodded. “That would work well. I have to confess I’ve never worked on a ranch before.”

“But you’re a farmer,” Melton said. “I need somebody to help me look after the fences.”

“I can fix fences,” Willem said.

“I have no doubt.” Melton’s tanned face scrunched as he narrowed his eyes. “I meant to do a lot of repairs over the summer that I never seemed to get to. Too many sick animals to tend to. Then last week a half-dozen head wandered off of my land through a break in the barbed wire, so the matter has become more urgent. It’s expensive to lose cattle just when you have them fattened up for market. I was lucky to recover them.”

“I’m only too happy to help with anything that needs doing.”

“You haven’t even asked what the job pays.” Melton’s mouth turned up.

Willem scratched behind his ear. “I trust you to be fair.”

“Most of the hands live on the ranch as a good part of their pay, but I’m sure we can come to an agreement that is fair to everyone. You can take your meals here if you like. My foreman will pay you in cash twice a month.”

“Do you mind if I ride around this afternoon and get a better idea of the layout of the ranch?”

“Not at all. It’s not a large property as ranches go, but you should still be careful not to wander so far that you can’t get home to look after your own animals.”

Willem extended his hand again. “I won’t disappoint you.”

“I wouldn’t take you on if I thought you might.” Melton shook Willem’s hand. “I’ll walk you back to your horse.”

As they walked down the steps and into the open yard, Willem glanced around in involuntary speculation about where Abbie spent her time when she was here.

I’
ll copy the letter over so it’s not so messy.” Abbie smoothed the corner of the page she had crumpled while she wrote at Rudy’s table on Monday morning. They had selected the minister in Ordway they thought would be most able to get away for a trip that was likely to take four days even if the minister did not stay for a visit with the Amish families. Abbie did not expect that he would, given that no one had come even to preach in such a long time.

“Why don’t you read it back just to be sure we’ve thought of everything?” Rudy straightened his chair up against the edge of the table.

Abbie cleared her throat.

We greet you in the faith that binds us together
.

We are Rudy Stutzman and Abigail Weaver of the Elbert County settlement. God’s will has become plain to us, and we rejoice that God leads our hearts to be wed. Our hope is to speak our vows before the end of November. We are writing to you because we could not see ourselves as truly married in the eyes of God if we could not be married in the Amish church we both love so dearly
.

Following the custom of our people, we know the harvest must be in before we turn to our celebration. As you know, the drought in our county has pressed our labors from every side
.

Our farms have yielded little to harvest, but we share your joy that Ordway’s crops have been abundant. We pray God blesses your family through His gracious provision in these busy weeks
.

May we ask you to pray about whether God might lead you to come to Elbert County to lead our wedding service? Being married here, among the families who share our settlement and our future congregation, is the desire of our hearts
.

We implore you in the name of Christ to consider this ministry to our shared people
.

Abbie looked up. “You don’t think it sounds too strong?”

Rudy twisted his lips in thought. “Maybe we should offer to travel to Ordway after all.”

“Are you having second thoughts?”

“Would it not be satisfying to be married in an established congregation?”

“But they would not be
our
congregation,” Abbie said. “Who would want to come if they don’t even know us? I don’t want our families here to think we are turning our backs on them at one of the most important moments of our lives.”

“Of course you are right.” Rudy’s volume dropped.

Abbie studied his face. “I don’t want to be right, Rudy. I want us to be of one mind.”

He patted her hand. “We are. We’ll send the letter just as it is.”

“It will only take me a few minutes to copy it fresh,” she said. “We should both sign it, don’t you think?”

“Yes, let’s do that. I’ll pour some more
kaffi
.”

Abbie watched his movements as he stood, turned to the stove, and reached for the pot. They had talked about these questions several times in the week since she accepted his proposal. Why had he chosen this moment, when they were writing such an important letter, to sound uncertain?

He was in one of his funks, she decided as she copied in a firm hand the words they had chosen carefully. One of his moods. It would pass. She would have to get used to them and learn to respond with patient words—or patient silence.

When she finished writing, she handed Rudy the pen. “I think the husband’s signature should come first.”

He scratched his name onto the paper and returned the pen. “Do you still plan to mail the letter yourself?”

“When I go to work I’ll be halfway to the post office in Limon,” she said. “But if you would rather take it—”

“No. Your suggestion is sensible. You take it.”

Abbie gave Fin Wood a stern look. “You heard your mother. It’s time for your rest.”

“All I do is rest.” Fin slumped in his chair and crossed his arms. “We didn’t do anything.”

“We played four games of checkers, cleaned the bottom of the bird cage, and read thirty-six pages in
The Wonderful Wizard of Oz
. I’d hardly say that’s nothing.” Abbie wondered what Levi was finding to complain about these days. “If you don’t rest in the afternoons, the doctor might send you back to bed.”

“I can’t make myself be tired when I’m not.” Fin scowled.

“You might find you are tired if you just close your eyes for a while.”

“I want to feed the new calf.”

She wagged a finger at him. “You know your parents don’t want you to leave the house yet.”

“When?”

Abbie softened. “As soon as your parents give permission, I promise our first outing will be to the barn.”

“When are you coming back?”

“Tomorrow, first thing.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” Abbie stood up and gathered her things. The letter to the Ordway minister lay in the folds of her shawl. She had not been willing to leave it in the buggy out of her sight. “I’ll tuck you in before I go.”

Despite his protests, a few minutes later Fin dropped off, and Abbie padded out of his room. She stopped in the kitchen to let Louise know she was leaving and then went out the front door.

The stallion tied up outside the barn caused her to look twice. Yes, the ears were right, and the spot on the left flank. It was Willem’s horse. Abbie did not know what his business was on the Wood ranch, but she scanned the open area around the house and hoped to get her buggy turned around before stallion and rider were paired again. She whistled for her horse in a nearby pen—and then slammed a hand over her mouth in regret.

Abbie dashed to the mare and tried to urge it through the gate.

Too late.

Willem came around the corner of an outbuilding. “I thought I recognized that whistle.”

“Hello, Willem.” Abbie slowed her pace. It would seem rude to hurry now. “I’m surprised to see you here.”

“I’m working for Mr. Wood today.”

“I thought you finished digging his lignite long ago.” Abbie patted her horse’s neck to keep her hands busy.

“I did. I’m going to fix fences for a while, and then we’ll see what else needs to be done.”

“I see.” He was after money, no doubt so he could buy the Weaver farm.

“I was hoping I would run into you,” Willem said.

“Willem, I’m going to marry Rudy. There’s nothing to talk about.” She picked at the harness.

“Abbie, listen. I have something to tell you.”

She said nothing and did not look at him.

“The Yutzys have decided to leave,” he said.

Her eyes shot up at him. “What?”

“I only heard about it on Saturday. The bank is about to repossess their land. They have no hope of catching up on their loan.”

Pain sliced through Abbie’s middle like a blacksmith’s fired chisel. Willem caught her elbow.

“I knew how you would feel,” he said. “I wanted you to hear it from me before the rumors start flying.”

“I suppose you’re going to try to buy their farm, too.” She shook off his touch. “Don’t think I can’t figure out why you want to work here.”

His face fell.

“I’m sorry.” Abbie composed herself. “That was an awful thing to say, especially after you found this position for me when I needed it. Please forgive me.”

“Of course I forgive you. I’m sure the news about the Yutzys is upsetting.”

“It’s no excuse. Let me make amends. Do you need anything from Limon? Since I’m halfway there I’m going in to mail a letter.” And then she would be up half the night baking the bread she would deliver to Willem, Rudy, and Martin Samuels on Wednesday as usual. She could not give a whole day to baking now. Two evenings would have to suffice.

“Thank you, no,” Willem said. “If you’re writing your parents, perhaps it is not too late to send my greetings along with yours.”

“Rudy and I wrote to Ordway,” she said, looking away again. “To the bishop.”

While the loaves were rising and the oven warmed, Abbie spread out the quilt on the floor of the front room. Her father had not left much furniture, so she had plenty of space. With a pair of scissors in one hand and a lamp in another, Abbie crawled around the edges of the quilt to be sure the binding was securely stitched and to trim off excess threads that caught her eye. When she had been around the entire perimeter, she sat back on her heels. Considering that she had made the entire quilt without benefit of a frame, she was pleased with the result.

Other than its physical appearance, the quilt was nothing Abbie had expected it to be. It had twelve blocks because the settlement had begun with twelve households. With the imminent departure of the Yutzys, and including Willem’s departure to the Mennonites, five of the twelve would be gone. Every household had contributed at least a few patches of fabric to this quilt, and as she stitched the triangles together she prayed for God’s clear blessing. She had chosen a tree of life pattern because she wanted each family to blossom and grow in faith and prosperity. Instead, one by one, the families felt the weight of discouragement that reshaped their vision. Branches bent and broke.