Authors: Jennifer Beckstrand
Tags: #Fiction, #Amish & Mennonite, #Christian, #Romance, #Clean & Wholesome, #Religious
Huckleberry Hill (10 page)
“We could separate curds.”
“Is it hard?”
“My ten-year-old cousin can do it.”
Rachel playfully twirled an errant lock of hair with her finger. “I want to know everything about you, and if I can be of service to you by learning to make cheese, then I would be so happy.”
They arrived just in time. Moses’s cousin, Adam, met them at the back door. “Good thing you come when you did, Moses. Lonnie went home sick, and we only just transferred the curds to the curd sink.”
Moses led Rachel to the small hand-washing station where they both scrubbed their hands thoroughly.
Adam, his wife Rose, and Moses’s cousin, Alfy, stood at the curd sink up to their elbows in curds and whey. All three eyed Rachel curiously, and Alfy couldn’t seem to take his eyes off her. Alfy, at eighteen, was the right age to be taken in by a pretty face.
They stirred and sifted the curds around and around, making certain that the fresh curds didn’t form into clumps and breaking up the curds that wanted to stick together. It took a good deal of arm strength, and Moses always felt as if he’d run a mile or two by the time all the curds were pressed into molds.
“Am I supposed to stick my hands in?” Rachel asked. “Without gloves?”
Adam motioned to the shelf. “In that box, if you want.”
Rachel went to the shelf and glanced doubtfully at Moses before pulling every glove out of the box on the top shelf.
“They’re all the same size,” Moses said.
“Smaller sizes on the next shelf down,” Adam added.
“Oh, I didn’t see those.” Rachel stuffed the gloves back into the box as best she could. Three or four gloves fell onto the floor.
She took five minutes trying on three different sizes of gloves before finding the perfect fit. After being properly equipped, she sidled next to Moses and eyed him doubtfully. “Should I put my hands in now?”
“Jah, move the curds around like this so they don’t clump.”
Rachel stuck her hands in an inch from the top of her gloves.
Moses plunged his hands and arms into the mix to show her how to do it. “You have to go deeper or you won’t get enough leverage to move the curds around.”
Rachel disregarded his advice and basically smoothed over the top of the curds like she was frosting a cake. Moses didn’t try to correct her again. He hadn’t planned on her being much help anyway.
Adam watched Rachel’s feeble attempts and raised an eyebrow to Moses before lowering his head and attending to his work.
After barely a minute, Rachel wiped her brow with her forearm. “My muscles feel like they are burning. How long does this take?”
“A few minutes. We have to mix in the salt and let the whey drain out before we put it into the hoops.”
After what must have been three grueling minutes, Rachel began breathing heavily. She rested one hand on the edge of the sink while working the other hand more and more slowly through the curds. “No wonder you have such big muscles, Moses. This is heavy work.”
Finally, with a sigh, she rested both elbows on the edge of the sink. “My arms are shaking. I can’t move them far enough to do it anymore.”
Moses pointed to a chair in the corner. “You can sit over there if you want.”
She smiled weakly and snapped her gloves off with haste. “I’m sorry I can’t help you finish, but you know how delicate I am.” She ambled to the chair, limping slightly. Moses gritted his teeth. Yesterday’s injury must be flaring up.
He forced his mind back to his work. It wasn’t Christian to think harshly of Rachel. As Lia’s sister, she deserved his kindness, not his judgment. But right or not, he sincerely dreaded having to drive her home.
Rachel perched expectantly on her chair looking out the window until the cheese sat in the molds and Moses felt comfortable leaving Adam and Alfy to press.
Moses rinsed his hands in the sink and got Rachel’s attention. “Cum. I will take you back to Mammi’s.”
Rachel walked toward him, smoothing her hand along the stainless steel sink as she came. “Will you show me the rest of your factory? We haven’t spent near enough time together.”
Nope. He’d put up with enough for one day. “Another time. I have to get Lia at noon.”
Wrong thing to say. “I’ll go with you. I’ll have to clean the toilet if I go back to Huckleberry Hill.”
Moses knew he would have to put his foot down or Rachel might arrange things so he’d be stuck with her the rest of the day. She was clever that way.
“What a nice surprise for Lia if the toilet was clean when she came home. I know how kindhearted you are to your sister.”
Rachel bit her bottom lip, and Moses could see the wheels turning in her head. “Thank you for noticing. I would never sing my own praises.”
What a blessing that Huckleberry Hill was only fifteen minutes from the cheese factory! By the time he turned the buggy up the hill, Moses swore he would never let Mammi talk him into such an outing again. Rachel loved to hear the sound of her own voice, and she seemed intent on listing every one of her good qualities in case they weren’t evident to Moses. He didn’t want to hear it anymore.
When the buggy finally crested the hill and the house came in sight, Moses didn’t unhitch the horse. Jumping out of the buggy, he motioned for Rachel to slide out. Her hands lingered on his arms as he helped her down. They walked to the porch with Rachel nearly glued to his side.
Moses stood on the welcome mat that Mammi had knitted out of double-thickness yarn. “Rachel, I must tell you something.”
Rachel’s eyes sparkled in anticipation as she stepped close enough to be kissed. She lifted her face to his and smiled shyly.
He took a giant step backward and found himself up against the door. “I’ve already told Lia. I am not looking to marry.”
To his surprise, Rachel widened her smile and took a step closer. He was trapped between her and the front door. Luckily, she wouldn’t be able to kiss him unless he bent over. He squared his shoulders so he stood taller.
“I know what you told Lia,” Rachel said. “We can let her go on believing whatever you want her to believe, but there is no point sparing her feelings. She’s already accepted the fact that she won’t marry.”
Moses tried not to let his eyes pop out of his head in surprise. “You misunderstand me. I am not ready to get married—”
“I’ll be patient.” She clasped her hands together behind her back. “But remember, I’ll only be here until September, and there is plenty of competition back home. You will want to make your intentions known sooner than later. And Lia won’t mind at all. Dat gave her specific instructions about her responsibilities while we are here on Huckleberry Hill.”
Moses slid to his left, scooted away from the door, and put some space between them. He didn’t want to be rude, or he would have come right out and told her that the thought of marrying her sent him into a full panic. “Rachel, I do not want to marry you.”
Surprise flashed in her eyes only to be replaced by amusement. “You can keep me guessing if you want. I do that with boys all the time.” She got on her tiptoes as if trying to be as close as possible to him. “But don’t make me wait too long, or I might get bored and refuse to have you.”
“I don’t want to marry you.”
Rachel grinned, raised her eyebrows, and slipped into the house before Moses could say another word. He stood looking stupidly at the door. And Lia thought
he
was arrogant?
he
was arrogant?
Lia followed Sarah into the small cabin. The knobbly wooden floor creaked under her feet. To her right, a water pump stuck right up through the floor and drained into a white plastic basin that served as a sink. Shelves against the wall were lined with cans and bottles of every kind of food. A cookstove stood in the corner with a pot of water bubbling on top.
A double bed covered with a gray blanket stood at the other end of the room. The girl in the bed, with her lips pressed together in pain, looked younger than Rachel. Another woman, probably the girl’s mother, pressed her fists into the girl’s back as the girl panted feverishly.
Sarah held Lia’s gaze for a second before grabbing her arm and pulling her forward. “This is Lia. She has come to help with the baby.”
Expressionless, the mother eyed Lia while keeping up her pressure on the girl’s back.
Sarah gave Lia another pointed look. Lia knew without having to be told that she must appear completely comfortable and confident in front of these women. Any hesitation or uncertainty she showed would make both mother and daughter uneasy.
The girl’s face slowly relaxed and her mother stopped massaging her back. “They are closer together now,” the mother said.
Sarah pointed to the girl in the bed. The girl wore a fleecy cream nightgown that seemed to swallow her up in its folds. “This is Mary, and this is her mamm, Eva.”
Mary, still panting from the last contraction, managed a smile. “Denki for coming, Lia.”
An assortment of towels and blankets was draped over a chair, and another empty chair at the foot of the bed waited for Sarah.
Sarah stood at the side of the bed opposite Eva and rubbed her hand up and down Mary’s arm. “The baby is posterior,” she told Lia.
Lia nodded. She had read that section at least three times.
“So, we put her on her side to see if the baby won’t turn before delivery,” Sarah said.
“Will he be okay?” Mary asked.
“Jah, do not worry yourself one bit. They come out a might bit easier when they are facedown, so I like to see if they will turn. But he’ll come out fine either way.”
Mary began panting furiously. “Another one is coming.”
Her mother dug her fists into Mary’s back as Mary groaned.
“Remember your breathing,” Sarah said. “Think of it as the path through the contraction. Follow that path until the pain fades.”
Mary immediately relaxed her shoulders and slowed down her breathing. Sarah pulled the covers up to the bottom of Mary’s abdomen and gently lifted her nightgown. She put the stethoscope that hung around her neck to her ears and touched the listening end on Mary’s stomach. “The heartbeat is strong. You’re doing well.”
Sarah directed Lia to warm up two receiving blankets by putting them into a specially shaped pan with tiny holes in the bottom on the cookstove over another pan that contained boiling water. The blankets were steamy warm in less than half an hour.
Even though it was warm inside the cabin, Lia kept the fire in the stove burning with the blanket warmer and two additional pans of boiling water on the surface. She opened the windows in the cabin to keep the fresh air circulating and took turns rubbing Mary’s back.
After an hour, Sarah checked Mary’s progress. “The head is an inch away. You might have this baby by dinnertime, Lord willing.”
“Is it turned?” Mary asked.
“Still faceup. Even if he turns, the baby will have a cone-shaped head from being squeezed into the birth canal that long. But don’t be alarmed. The baby’s head will turn out nice and round in a day or two.”
Lia loved Sarah’s no-nonsense way of reporting the facts without causing Mary anxiety or concern. Sarah’s talent of making things sound routine and matter-of-fact surely comforted worried mothers. Mary knew exactly what to expect without thinking anything was dire or out of the ordinary. Could Lia ever develop that sort of calm in serious situations?
After another hour of endless waiting and helping Mary get through her contractions, everything seemed to happen at once.
“I’ve got to push!” Mary moaned.
Sarah slid her quickly into position to the foot of the bed. “Lia, hold her leg like this.”
Lia saw a little crown of dark hair as Mary pushed with all her might. Seven agonizing contractions, seven gut-splitting pushes, and the baby seemed to leap from his mother’s womb.
“It’s a boy!” Sarah announced as Mary sighed in blessed relief.
The baby screamed as if his feelings had been hurt beyond repair. His dark hair was matted with moisture and he did indeed appear with a cone head, but he also had a chubby round face and perfectly formed fingers. Tears sprang to Lia’s eyes. There was nothing sweeter than a newborn
buplie
.
buplie
.
She took a towel from the back of the chair and quickly rubbed the moisture from the wailing baby as Sarah tied a piece of twine around the cord and cut it. Lia retrieved one of the warm blankets from the cookstove, took the baby from Sarah, and laid him on his mother’s chest. As soon as she covered his little body with the warm blanket, he cuddled up against his mother and fell asleep.
“Oh, look at him,” Lia cooed. “He is the most beautiful thing in the whole world.”
Mary moved her arms around his tiny body. “Is he all right? He’s not crying. Is he okay?”
Lia tried to copy Sarah’s calm reassurances. “He is wonderful gute. He’s had a long trip, and he is just happy to fall asleep in his mama’s arms.”
Mary rubbed her finger up and down the baby’s cheek. “Luke Matthew,” she said.
“Only a little tearing,” Sarah said as she opened a sterile plastic bag and took out a special needle and thread.
Mary and Eva fussed over the baby while Lia helped Sarah clean up. Sarah periodically checked Mary and the baby while Lia gathered laundry and wiped down the floor.
“I will give the baby a sponge bath,” Sarah said, “while Lia changes the sheets. Once we’re all cleaned up, the new papa can come see his baby.”
Mary moved to a chair while Lia changed her bedclothes and then helped her change into a clean nightgown. Mary returned to bed, and Sarah placed baby Luke, swaddled tightly, in his mother’s arms. Lia’s heart swelled to fill the cabin.
Although Mary had dark circles under her eyes and looked too exhausted to raise her head, she didn’t stop smiling as she tucked her finger into Luke’s tiny fist. “Could we fetch Matthew now?”
“I’ll go,” said Eva. “He’s been outside all morning, like as not hoeing the garden to pieces so’s there ain’t one clod of dirt.”
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