A Plain Love Song (4 page)

“And you’ll be working in the house.” Daed massaged his neck with one hand, a weary look on his face. “You’re not to be alone in the house with him. If Mrs. Hart isn’t there, you best come on home and clean the house another time. If that doesn’t suit her, you can find a new house to clean.”

“I’ll tell her.”

“Mind that you keep to yourself. Do your work. Get yourself home. On time.”

Mrs. Hart wouldn’t like this new rule. She went to town all the time, to shop, to visit, to get her hair fixed up and her fingernails painted. It couldn’t be helped. Adah didn’t want Daed to forbid her to go. She liked the Hart house the best of the three houses she cleaned. Because of the piano and the music playing on the radio and the books, lots of books, everywhere. She felt as if Daed’s gaze bored into her forehead. She only wanted to snatch up her papers and run up the stairs. He could have the iPod. She would hear the music in her head anyway. “I’ll talk to Mrs. Hart. I’ll tell her. I’m sure she won’t mind.”

She liked having her house clean and Plain girls did it a lot more cheaply than most. She’d agree. Leastways, Adah hoped so.

“See that you do.” Daed gathered up the papers and the iPod in one swoop of his big hands. “These go in the trash.”

“Nee—” Adah started forward.

Mudder put her hand on Adah’s arm. “Finish washing the dishes and wipe down the counters. The little ones are already in bed. I saved you a plate.”

Mudder always saved her a plate. No matter what, she watched out for Adah. But this was one thing with which she couldn’t help her daughter. Adah knew that. She nodded. Mudder’s grip tightened and then her hand fell away. “Go on.”

“Concentrate on the baptism classes.” Steel grated in Daed’s voice. “It’s time.”

Adah tried not to look back, but she couldn’t help herself. Daed dropped the iPod on the floor and crushed it under his thick-soled, dirty work boot, the sound of plastic breaking loud in the silent, country evening. He crushed the papers in his hands until they were a tight ball. Mudder crouched and swept the shattered pieces of electronics into her apron. She rose and together they walked out the front door. They were headed to the barrels out by the corral where Daed burned trash and grass clippings and such.

Adah bowed her head and trudged into the kitchen. No point in looking back. What was gone was gone. They were right. She needed to look forward. Her throat ached with tears she refused to shed. No Plain woman cried over a few words on a piece of paper. It was pure silliness.

Pure foolishness.

Time to put this foolishness aside.

Foolishness aside.

Couldn’t erase these feelings if she tried.

The words whirled in her head. Her fingers itched.

She couldn’t help it. She felt another song coming on.

Chapter 4

M
atthew Troyer tossed the last pitchfork of hay onto the platform from where he stood in the wagon and yelled for his daed to crank the pulley. He must’ve heard because the ropes creaked and groaned and the wooden platform began its ascent toward the barn loft. A quick glance upward told him Rueben stood at the edge of the loft, ready to take the load. He looked as beat as Matthew felt. Abraham and Alexander had been released earlier to fix a downed fence that was allowing the hogs to escape their pen. The twins were probably at the house already, chomping at the bit to eat supper. Matthew wiped at his face with the back of his sleeve and it came away drenched. The smell of his sweat mingled with the nicer scent of fresh cut hay. The sun flashed through the open door, its placement in the western sky telling him they were way past suppertime.

Daed had heard something in town about thunderstorms tonight and he wanted the hay in before it was drenched and had to dry again. So they’d worked long past the usual hour. Matthew didn’t mind, truth be told. It had been a good day. A decent haul. The wheat looked good and so did the corn. If the weather held they should have a good crop later this month, early July at the latest. The work they did today made time for other chores tomorrow. A farmer’s life. His life. He smiled to himself, liking the sound of those words rattling around in his head. His and Adah’s life if he had his way.

He was getting ahead of himself as usual. Baptism classes were underway. He hoped to be baptized at the end of September. Then more courting. He liked the courting part when it involved Adah. A lot. The road ahead might be long, but there was joy in the journey. Praise Gott for that blessing.

“That’s it. Time to call it a day.” Daed strode around the wagon, looking as chipper as he had at dawn. Matthew wiped the telltale smile off his face before Daed asked him what he was grinning about. Daed was sharp that way. “Your mudder’s squawking about having a good meal dry out because we don’t know when to stop what we’re doing and leave it for tomorrow.”

“Because
you
don’t know when to stop!” Matthew smiled to let Daed know he was joshing him. “She knows Rueben and I are ready to eat at the drop of a hat. I could eat an entire hog by myself right now.”

“You earned your keep today.” Daed clapped Matthew on the back with a hand big enough to palm a volleyball into the farm down the road. Now that they were caught up on the work, he wasn’t quite so cranky. “’Course you do most days.”

A rush of pleasure flowed through Matthew. Daed didn’t hand out compliments much. That made this rare occasion all the more pleasing and unexpected. He ducked his head so Daed couldn’t see the red that surely crept across his face. “I best unhitch the horses and get them fed and watered.”

“Let Rueben do that.” Daed shoved back the brim of his sweat-soaked straw hat, revealing a white band above his farmer’s tan and just below a gray hairline. “Walk up to the house with me. Got something I want to talk to you about.”

Surprise mingled with a generous dose of trepidation—had he forgotten a chore or left some remnant of his ongoing rumspringa in a place where it drew Daed’s attention to its overt clash with their ways? His stomach clenched, taking with it the hunger that had made him ravenous only a minute earlier. His heart cranked up in his chest, he waited while Daed gave Rueben some last instructions and then fell in step next to him as they trudged up the dirt and gravel road that led to the house.

Daed didn’t say anything at first. The only sound was the crunch of the gravel under their boots and the wind rustling leaves on the tree branches that provided a bit of shade now and again. Daed cleared his throat. “Your mudder and I have been talking.”

“Jah.”

“We’ve been blessed since moving to New Hope from Bliss Creek. This farm…it’s more than enough for our needs.”

“It is.”

Where was this going? Matthew knew better than to ask. Daed would get to where he was going in his own way and at his own speed. Which couldn’t really be called speed. His
groossmammi
got to the point faster and she was nearing seventy.

“You’re of age now.” Daed did a two-step around a gray and white kitten who had strayed from its momma and planted itself in the middle of the road, where it seemed intent on giving itself a bath with a tiny pink tongue. “Won’t be long before you’ll be making some decisions about what you’ll do next.”

So that was it. Matthew hid his smile. Daed’s judicious choice of words meant he was trying not to meddle, trying not to ask. It wasn’t done. Rumspringa lasted however long it lasted. Young folks in this community were expected to make the decision to be baptized without prodding by their elders. That’s how the bishop would know it was genuine. That regret wouldn’t surface later, coupled with a desire to change the outcome.

Matthew’s had gone on long enough. He had started his baptism classes and he meant to finish them and be baptized in September. Gott willing, Adah would too. She’d seemed reluctant to start the classes and her attendance was spotty, but she’d come around. Gott willing.

Daed’s long strides slowed. “I’ve decided it’s best to give you the forty acres west of the creek.”

Matthew stopped walking. His mouth dropped open but he couldn’t seem to shut it. Daed took a few more steps, apparently not realizing at first that Matthew no longer strode at his side. He slowed, stopped, and turned. “Well? I thought you wanted to eat a whole hog. A man could starve to death waiting on you.”

“Are you sure you want to carve up the land in parcels like that?”

“Just two parcels. When it’s Rueben’s time, we’ll see. He may decide he wants to ply a trade in town to earn his keep. The twins will share my piece when I’m gone.”

Which, Gott willing, would be a long time from now.

Matthew pulled his hat down on his forehead, hoping to cover the tumult on his face. “I wasn’t expecting this.”

“You’re a farmer. I have no doubt of that. I see it in your work every day.” Daed’s sunburned face turned a darker shade of red. “It gives me…it pleases me that Gott has provided for us in a way that allows this to happen.”

Daed always gave all the glory to Gott. Always. Matthew nodded. “Me too.”

Daed resumed walking. Matthew stood rooted to the ground, his mind racing, thinking of the lay of the land, how it might be cultivated, where they—he and Adah, Gott willing—would build the house.

Daed glanced back, his expression perturbed now. “Are you coming? If we’re any later, your mudder will feed our supper to the hogs sure as the sun sets in the west.”

“I’m coming.”

“There’s something else.” Daed shoved his hat back on his head, giving Matthew a clear view of his expression. It could be described as surly at best. Whatever was coming didn’t please him as much as the earlier discussion. “You remember the Gringriches?”

“I do.” The ones who moved to Walnut Creek when the other Bliss Creek families decided to move to Missouri. Why, Matthew couldn’t imagine. They hadn’t been in Bliss Creek long when they decided to uproot and move again. Land was scarce up north and what did become available was much more expensive than in Missouri.

“The move to Walnut Creek didn’t work out for them.”

What was Daed getting at? More than one family had struck out in new directions only to find land too expensive, the Englisch rules too onerous, and farming no longer sustainable. Their way of life felt
threatened more often than not. “It’s a shame, but I’m sure Gott has a plan for them.”

“Apparently that plan involves them staying with us for a spell.”

“Oh.” Now Matthew understood Daed’s concern. They were squeezed into the house as it was. The Englischers who built it must’ve had few
kinner
. Bedrooms were scarce. They planned to add more rooms in the fall after the crops were in. “Molly won’t mind sharing.”

“They’ve got four daughters.”

And no sons. Part of Enoch Gringrich’s problem, no doubt. “We’ll make it work.”

“Jah, we will. Your mudder has her heart set on having Clara here. She’s missed her friendship something fierce.”

Matthew slowed again. First Daed announced the gift of the land. Then he proceeded to announce that six more people would be living in their house. Was he prodding Matthew to move quickly to marry Adah? To free up space for visitors?

Surely not. Daed wouldn’t do that.

“We need to start on a
dawdi haus
.”

Another statement out of the blue. “You’re still young.” Matthew blurted his response without thinking of how it sounded. “I mean, if you’ve decided—”

“Nee, don’t be daft, son. I’m not ready for the rocking chair.” Daed guffawed for a full thirty seconds. He wiped at his face with the back of his shirt sleeve, his expression somber once again. “Your
Aenti
Josie sent me a letter. My daed and mudder have become…feeble. She’s doing her best to care for them, but Daed has become stubborn as an old mule. Mudder thinks he’ll do better with us. Josie agrees.”

Groossdaadi
being stubborn Matthew could imagine, but feeble? The man didn’t have a weak or lazy bone in his body. Matthew didn’t realize how much he’d missed having his grandfather around until this very moment. He missed hunting and fishing with him. Missed his stories. Missed his cackling laughter when he teased Molly and the little ones. Having him and Groossmammi here would be a gift from God.
It didn’t matter how crowded the house seemed. The more the merrier. “When are they coming?”

“The Gringriches get here next week. I’ll head to Bliss Creek to fetch Mudder and Daed while you have the framing frolic for the dawdi haus.”

“Before we finish it?”

“You and the other men can get it done. I’m just one set of hands. You’ll have many more. Enoch is a good carpenter. He’ll help.”

“What about the code enforcement guy? He’s been giving Michael a hard time over the house he’s building for him and Phoebe.”

“I’ll stop in and talk to him while we’re in town buying the supplies tomorrow. I have drawings we’ve always used. It’s a small addition. Front room, bedroom, small kitchen, bathroom. That’s it. Surely they can’t find much fault with that.”

The Englisch inspectors seemed to find fault with everything, whether it was the quality of the lumber, the number of smoke alarms, or the type of cement used for the foundation. He would want blueprints, not the simple plans they’d always used. “We’ll work it out.”