Chapter Four
When the sleigh turned in at Coblentz Lane, Martha sat straighter and watched Nate’s
face for his reactions. How did her home place compare to his in Willow Ridge? Was
his house larger or newer than hers? Did the outbuildings appear well-kept to him,
or was Nate making unfavorable comparisons as he took in the barnyard . . . the cluster
of deep red barns with stone foundations . . . the silos rising behind them? She had
lived on this land, in these buildings, every day of her life, yet now she looked
at them with a more critical eye.
“Real pretty place,” he murmured as he gazed out over the pastures. “It’s hillier
here than where we live. More trees and rocks breaking up the tillable land. I’ve
noticed how the homes and barns look to be older in Cedar Creek, with a lot of stonework.
Our town’s not been on the map as long.”
“
Jah
, this farm’s been in Dat’s family for several generations,” Martha replied. “What
with him and Owen both being carpenters, hay for the livestock is our only crop—and
we have a big garden, of course.”
Nate slowed the sleigh, watching ahead to see where Bram was going to park the buggy.
“Whoa, Clyde,” he crooned in a low voice. Then he gave her a smile that seemed almost
shy. “Hope your folks won’t feel like my brother and I are intruding on your family’s
Christmas. Mighty nice of you, asking us to stay in town for longer than we’d figured
on. If your
mamm
seems put out, we can always stay with the aunt and—”
“We’re pretty
gut
at talking her into things, Mary and I,” Martha assured him as they got out of the
sleigh. But now that they were mere steps away from introducing their two surprise
guests, she realized what a challenge she and her twin had set themselves up for.
Not only would her
mamm
and
dat
wonder what was really going on with these out-of-town boys, but there would be plenty
of remarks from their brothers and little sister, as well.
“Are you going to tell Mamma, or shall I?” Mary murmured as the four of them stepped
onto the wide porch. “She’ll already figure something’s up, after the way I took out
of here with those brownies a while ago.”
“Should Nate and I wait out here until you girls break the news?” Bram placed his
hand on Mary’s back, looking sincerely concerned about making the right impression.
He also looks ready to kiss her. And she wouldn’t turn him away!
Martha reached for the doorknob, thinking she might be the better one—the less distracted
one—to break their news. “You might as well make your entrance, fellows. We’ve got
nothing to hide, after all,” she pointed out.
The sweet scents of orange cake and cherries greeted them as they all entered the
kitchen. Her mother was taking a pan of orange date bars from the oven while Joanna
drizzled white frosting over a batch of cherry pie bars. Mamma straightened to her
full height, her gaze running quickly from Nate to Bram as they removed their hats.
“Well, now! What’s this we have going on?”
Martha jumped in feet first, hoping all the words came out right. “This is Nate and
Bram Kanagy, from over to Willow Ridge,” she said, gesturing to each fellow in turn.
“The more Mary and I talked to them, the more we wanted to spend our birthday getting
better acquainted—”
“So we invited them to stay over for a few days,” Mary chimed in. “They’re nephews
of the Nissleys, and—”
“They came to pick up the new sleigh and courting buggy James has built for them,”
Martha added.
Silence rang in the kitchen, until Joanna began to giggle. “Oh, but Dat’s gonna love
this! Wasn’t but a couple days ago he was saying you girls should be gettin’ hitched,
so—”
“Let’s not rush things, missy. These young men don’t need anyone giving them ideas.”
Mamma set her pan of hot bars on a cast iron trivet and then shut the oven door. She
found her smile. “It’s nice to meet you. Nate and Bram Kanagy, is it?”
“
Jah
,” Nate replied. “Our
dat
Daniel keeps sheep and our
mamm
Leah has a truck garden—”
“And we run our own businesses,” Bram cut in with a winsome grin. “I’m an auctioneer,
and my brother’s been trainin’ horses for a
gut
long while. We were hopin’ to test out our new rigs with Mary and Martha before we
head back.”
“Were you, now?” Her mother didn’t look angry, but she wasn’t one to be told what
to do, either. “You’ve no doubt figured out that my girls never lack for ideas and
that between the two of them they can cook up some mischief. And what are your intentions,
far as joining the church, boys? I don’t want to see my daughters jumping the fence,
understand.”
“I took my vows last year, Mrs. Coblentz,” Nate assured her. “And while my brother
looks anything but Plain in his red plaid shirt and English haircut, our folks are
set on having all of us kids follow the Old Ways, as well.”
“That’s why I’ve called to let them know we’ve been invited to a home with the same
strong faith,” Bram said with a decisive nod. “If we’ll be interrupting your plans
for Christmas, we’ll head back home tomorrow like we’d originally figured on.”
Their mother considered this as she studied the boys for a moment. Then she looked
at Martha and Mary straight-on. “And where did you think these boys would be sleeping?”
she asked quietly. “They’ll not be in
your
room—no matter what some Plain families allow, far as courting practices like bundling
in their daughters’ beds.”
“We thought Jacob might move in with Owen and Noah for a couple nights, so these fellows
can sleep in the spare beds in his room,” Mary suggested. “Like we do when the cousins
come to stay.”
“And have you asked Jacob about this?”
As Martha glanced at Mary, their youngest brother replied from the front room. “You’re
gonna have to do me somethin’ special for this big favor you’re askin’,” he declared.
“Who
are
these guys, anyway?”
“And you’ll have to set up the beds and get their towels and sheets, too,” Mamma added
with a sly smile. “And since your sister and brother could use some help learning
their recitation pieces for the scholars’ program tomorrow night, the four of you
are to get them
gut
and ready. The sleigh and the new buggy’ll have to bide their time in the yard until
all those things are ticked off my list.”
“Bram and I will see to our horses,” Nate said. “Then we’ll be in to help with what
you’ve asked, Mrs. Coblentz.”
“And we’ve told Aunt Beulah Mae and Uncle Abe we’ll eat supper with them tonight,”
Bram added. The dimples flickered in his cheeks. “So you can see we’ve got all manner
of
gut
, honorable things to do and places to be, ain’t so?”
Their mother’s chuckle made Martha relax. Nate’s sense of responsibility and Bram’s
teasing good nature had won her over—for now. “
Jah
, I reckon we can put up with you boys’ company for a few days, long as Amos agrees.
He’ll have the final word.”
“Only right.” Nate smiled at the tousle-haired boy who had come to the kitchen doorway.
“Jacob, I could use some help with my Clydesdale and sleigh, if you’ve got a minute.
I bet you know right where to stable him, too. Along with Bram’s bay.”
Jacob rushed to the window and his eyes widened. “That’s
your
horse? Why, he’s the tallest one I’ve ever seen!”
“Want to drive him for a bit? Clyde’s an easygoing fellow—”
“And you can park my buggy, too, if you like,” Bram said as he put his fedora on again.
“I don’t let just anybody drive my new rig, you know.”
The three fellows were out the door quicker than Jacob could get his coat on. Martha’s
heartbeat had returned to normal, but the look on Mamma’s face told her they weren’t
finished with a little business best tended while their guests were out of earshot.
“And what possessed you to invite boys you don’t even know into our home?” she asked
quietly. “Lord love us all if you start taking up with just anybody who passes through
town.”
“Oh, but
please
, Mamma! The Kanagy boys aren’t just anybody!” Mary pleaded. She pressed the dough
she’d abandoned earlier into a clean nine-by-thirteen pan and stuck it in the oven.
“Bram’s only eighteen, but he’s been working livestock sales—going to auctioneer school—so
he can make himself a real
gut
living—”
“And a lot of men hereabouts rely on Nate to train their horses,” Martha insisted.
“Dat will know of him, for sure and for certain.”
“But mostly you just thought they were the cutest things you’ve ever seen,” Joanna
piped up from her place at the counter. “I might only be ten, but I’ve got eyes, ya
know.”
Martha looked at Mary and burst into a giggling fit. “Well,
jah
, there’s that. Not to mention the fact that they had James Graber make their new
rigs,” she added. “Their folks gave them the sleigh and the courting buggy for Christmas,
because the boys promised they’d not get cars or driver’s licenses. So does
that
make you feel any better about it, Mamma?”
Their mother began melting the butterscotch chips for the cashew bars Mary was making,
a grin twitching at her lips. “Your little sister and I had it figured the same way.
I might be your mother, but I’ve got eyes, too, you know. Keep that in mind these
next few days while your guests are here.”
“We will, Mamma.” Mary removed her crust from the oven and sprinkled cashews all over
it. Then she poured on the melted butterscotch chips without spilling a drop. Ever
the neat and tidy Amish cook, Mary was.
“For sure and for certain, Mamma,” Martha agreed as she gathered the dirty bowls and
measuring cups. “And
denki
for letting us celebrate an extra-special eighteenth birthday. We won’t cause you
a lick of trouble.”
Joanna laughed out loud. “I’ve gotta see how
that
will work. You two were causin’ trouble long before I was born.”
Martha met her twin’s gaze from across the kitchen. Though they had gotten their way,
plenty of folks would be watching them with the Kanagy boys. And they had an afternoon
of listening to Jacob and Joanna practice their recitations before they would have
to endure supper with Preacher Abe and Beulah Mae. It might well be eight or nine
o’clock tonight before she joined Nate in his sleigh . . .
Patience is a virtue
, Martha reminded herself.
Too bad it’s not one of mine.
“Better be helping yourself to more of these mashed potatoes and the chicken with
noodles,” Beulah Mae insisted as she passed the bowls to Bram. “Why, I figured you
young fellows would eat a whole lot more than this, or I wouldn’t have cooked so much!”
Bram groaned inwardly. His plate was still covered with second helpings of creamed
succotash, fried apples, baked chicken, and green bean casserole and they hadn’t even
looked at the desserts lined up on the counter yet. While his aunt was renowned for
her cooking and had a successful restaurant, a fellow could only find room for so
many big, fluffy dinner rolls while doing justice to the chickens and apples his aunt
and uncle raised here on their farm.
“
Jah
, I can remember how your
dat
would eat us out of house and home at your age,” Uncle Abe said with a chuckle. “Your
mamm
probably cooks a lot of lamb, what with him raising them, ain’t so?”
“Oh, not so much,” Nate replied. The glance he sent to Bram felt as heavy as the meal
they were eating. “He sells off everything he raises, as there’s a lot of call for
mutton amongst foreign folks in the big cities.”
“And it’s not like lamb’s a big favorite at our house,” Bram added. “Mamm turns up
her nose at the smell of it—”
“Well then, your mother’s never learned to eat what the
gut
Lord has provided.” Beulah Mae rose stiffly from her chair, achy from spending so
many hours on her feet, no doubt. “I recall some years when I was a girl and the cows
and hogs died of infections, so we couldn’t butcher them. Went months without fresh
meat, we did.”
Oh, but this conversation was going nowhere . . . just like the four of them. Had
his aunt really been so young and fresh and exciting that Abe had slipped away from
their families’ Christmas rituals to court her? Martha had laid down her fork, as
though looking ready for an excuse to leave, while Mary still picked at her food as
she stole glances at him from across the table.
Mary, Mary, quite contrary . . . oh, what I’d rather be doing with you right now,
perty girl . . .
“Maybe we’d best hold off on dessert until after our supper settles,” Beulah Mae said
as she clucked over the four golden-crusted pies. “We can have some coffee in the
front room, maybe play a game of—”
“But I’ve been looking forward to your pie all day, Aunt,” Nate cut in. “Your rhubarb
has always been my favorite.”
“Did you bake a cherry one, or a peach?” Bram said in a rising voice. “Of course,
no matter what kinds you made they’ll be like none we get at home. Mamm’s not the
baker you are—but don’t tell her I said so!” he teased as he looked at his uncle.
Abe chortled, making his white beard shimmy across the front of his deep green shirt.
“You boys have something other than pie on your minds, and I can’t say as I blame
you. Not every day a fellow gets a fine new rig— or a girl to ride it with. Let’s
have that pie now, Beulah Mae. Blackberry for me, please.”
The twins rose together to scrape the plates, as eager to move this evening forward
as he and Nate were. His aunt planted a fist against her hip, glaring at the way Uncle
Abe had overridden her idea, but she took a pie cutter from its peg on the wall. She
was probably peeved because while she and Abe had cleared their plates, their four
younger guests had stalled out over the second and third helpings she’d pressed upon
them. Bram had been taught not to waste food, of course—but then, his parents didn’t
insist that he reload his plate, either.