A Simple Autumn: A Seasons of Lancaster Novel (11 page)

“His eye is on the sparrow,” Jonah hummed in his gravelly voice, “and I know He watches
me.”

Ya, Gott had shown His divine hand today. What a difference He had made in a single
day!

In the days and weeks he’d worked on the roof, Jonah hadn’t gotten any closer to Annie
until this afternoon, when out of the blue she had talked to him as if he were a good
friend. Was it because of the accident at the singing? He tipped his hat back and
scratched under the brim. It was hard to say.

And now, with the roof repaired, this would be his last day here. It seemed like a
cruel trick when he first realized that. But he had seen
Aaron and his sons-in-law struggling to cover all the chores on this farm. They could
use some spare hands, and he was ready to volunteer.

Outside the barn he found Aaron leaning on a stall, looking into an empty pen with
two walls.

“Are you feeling all right?” Jonah asked. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you standing
still before.”

Aaron chuckled, his face pale against his ruddy beard. “I’m checking over the new
birthing pen; got a pregnant Dexter cow due to go into labor soon.”

Jonah put his hand on the rail and nodded. “This is nice.” He pointed to the wooden
walls. “You’ve got your walls on the west and north side to protect against the wind.
Open to the sunlight on the south side. I think your mother cow will be happy to make
a visit here.”

“Denki. But you don’t know Buttercup. Last year when it was her time she broke through
the fence and gave birth on the riverbank.”

Jonah laughed. “For creatures with big brains, they’re not the brightest,” Jonah said.

“Ya. It was okay until the calf walked right into the river. I wasn’t too happy hauling
her out. The water was cold.” Aaron went to a stack of hay bales and shifted one from
the top. Jonah helped him load it into a wheelbarrow.

“So.” Aaron looked up at him. “How’s my roof?”

“All done.” Jonah scratched his chin. “I did the flashing and put the gutters back
on today.”

“Very good. Thank you for your help.” Aaron grimaced and leaned against the fence.
“With the harvest going on, we could never have fixed the roof in time for the rain
and snow.”

Jonah nodded. “Adam and I were happy to do it. We’ve got more helping hands at our
place, so I could be spared. But you’re losing a good worker here when Perry leaves
this week.”

“Ach.” Aaron lifted one hand in a gesture of dismay. “Perry does the work of three
men.”

“So do you,” Jonah said. “But you’ll need help, at least for a while. I’m happy to
keep coming over, maybe just in the afternoon. There are still the chores at our farm
to take care of.”

Aaron’s blue eyes, so like his daughter’s, scrutinized Jonah. “I would have to pay
you. The roof, I know you said you wouldn’t take any money. But if it’s regular work,
you must accept pay.”

“That’s not why I’m offering.…” Jonah paused. What was he going to tell the man—that
he was really hoping to work at the farm to court his daughter?

“If you want to work here, you’ll be paid.” Aaron pushed the wheelbarrow toward the
pen for the sheep, calling over his shoulder, “You know I don’t hire just anyone.
I’m picky.”

“That’s what I heard.” Jonah followed along. “I’m flattered.”

“
Gut
. Now you can help me clean out the sheep pen.”

Round the other side of the barn, the sheep were pressing against the gate of their
pen, anxious for feed. The muscles in his shoulders tightened when he saw Annie there,
sitting on a hay bale with Levi and a baby lamb, which the boy was trying to feed
from a bottle. Mark hung on Annie’s knees, watching intently.

“Now hold your head still,” Levi spoke to the creature gently, cupping its muzzle
so that he could get the nipple in.

“That’s it,” Annie said. “I think he’s getting the hang of it.”

“What’ve you got there, Levi?” Jonah asked. “Is that an orphan?”

“How did you know?” the little boy asked.

“You’re giving him a bottle.” Jonah cupped the curls at Mark’s neck gently, thinking
of his brother Simon’s shiny hair. It wasn’t so long ago that Simon was toddling around
the barn, learning about all the animals like this. And now Simon was nine, turning
ten soon, and he was their horse expert. “What happened to his mamm?”

“He’s not a true orphan,” Annie explained. “His mamm rejected
him, probably because she had triplets. Too many to keep track of. So we had to take
him out of the lambing jug. Isn’t that sad?” Her eyes sparkled with rue. That look—it
could tear a man’s heart out.

“It happens,” he said. He’d seen a mother sheep try to hurt her young when she turned
them away. It didn’t happen often, but you needed to take special care when you had
a bummer, a lamb who tried to bum milk from other ewes because it couldn’t get enough
from its mother.

“How come you’ve got some ewes lambing in the fall?” Jonah asked. In Lancaster County,
the usual lambing season was spring. You could plan your schedule around it.

“We had a hole in the fence, and some of the bucks got through.” Annie shook her head.
“By the time anyone noticed, we had a couple of pregnant ewes.”

Jonah nodded. Every farmer understood the importance of keeping fences in good shape.

“I’m going to take good care of him.” Levi turned to Annie. “Do you think he can sleep
in my bed with me?”

Annie grinned. “I don’t think your mamm and dat are going to allow that, but you can
ask.”

Jonah found a shovel and began to clear out the sheep pen. “Have you got a name for
the bummer yet?”

“Do we get to name it?” Levi asked Annie.

“If your doddi says it’s okay.”

“That depends on the name,” Aaron called from around the side of the shed.

“Then I will think of a very good name,” Levi said.

Jonah shoveled manure into the bin. “Why don’t you name it Peanut Butter?” he teased.
“Patty Maker?”

“Nay.” Levi grinned.

“How about Moon Egg?” Jonah prodded. “Or Picky Picky.”

“Those are not names for a lamb!” Levi insisted. He giggled, and Annie joined him.

“I kind of like Moon Egg,” she said. Then she laughed again.

The sound of her joy was music in Jonah’s ears.

That night at the dinner table, the teasing came full circle when Jonah’s sisters
noticed his happy mood.

“You’ve been smiling ever since you got home from helping the Stoltzfuses,” Ruthie
said as she passed the string beans down the table. “Did someone tell you a funny
joke?”

“I … I think I was the one who told the jokes,” Jonah said, thinking of how he had
made Annie and Levi laugh.

“You? The Quiet One?” Susie blinked in disbelief. “What was the joke?”

“Nay.” Jonah tore a biscuit in half. “It’s not so funny if you weren’t there.”

“Well, it’s good to see you smiling.” Mary grabbed Katie’s cup of milk as it wobbled
on the table. “I was beginning to think your face was stuck in a serious frown.”

“I’m not serious. Quiet, ya. But inside I’m very funny.”

The girls giggled.

“If that’s so, you’re keeping the jokes to yourself,” Leah said.

Jonah let his eyes skim over their smiling faces as he cut his chicken. Even Simon
was trying to hide a grin. “Are you ganging up on me? I think you are.”

“I’m on your side, Jonah,” Ruthie insisted.

“We all are,” Mary said, “as long as you keep smiling.”

He stabbed some beets with a fork. “And I finished the roof today. Another reason
to smile.”

“That’s good, because we need you tomorrow,” Adam said. “The hay baler isn’t working
right, and you’re the mechanic around here.”

“I’ll take a look at it in the morning.” Would it take long to fix? Jonah wanted to
get over to the Stoltzfus farm tomorrow. “I saw that you made good progress on cutting
today.”

“Ya,” Adam said, his eyes on his food. “Another week or two and we’ll be putting up
the harvester till next year.”

“Then things will slow down for a while.” Jonah ran his thumb over the drops on his
water cup. “Even with the roof done, Aaron is going to need some help to keep his
farm running. Perry is leaving this week, and Daniel’s taking on more and more of
the harness shop in town. I’d like to do some work for them, if you can spare me here.”

Both Adam and Gabe looked up at him at the same time.

“I would keep working here, too. At least half a day.”

“We’ll need that,” Adam said, “at least until everything is cut and stored.”

“But this is our busiest time of year,” Gabe said. “And I had plans for a job, too.”
He turned to Adam. “I was going to talk to you about it after the harvest. I want
to try something outside the farm.”

“Why would you do that?” Adam asked. “You’re so good with the cows. It’s a gift you’ve
got, Gabe. A blessing.”

Gabe frowned. “I’m in rumspringa, and I don’t want to be here all the time. And it
would be good to make some money of my own, the way Sadie did.”

Now Jonah and Adam exchanged a look of concern. Was Gabe pulling away, feeling
Unzufriede
, a sense of discontent with Amish life?

“Are you looking to get a cell phone and a souped-up buggy?” Adam asked.

Gabe shrugged. “I already have that boom box, but I wouldn’t mind a few more discs
for it. But it’s not about buying things. I just want to try something off the farm
for a while.”

Adam rubbed his chin, a gesture Jonah recognized. He did that when he was worried.
“In another few weeks, when the harvest is in, we’ll talk about you getting a job.
What Jonah’s doing is different. Aaron Stoltzfus needs our help.”

Gabe nodded, but Jonah could see the disappointment in his frown.

“But we can still go to our jobs at the tea shop, right?” Susie had been bubbling
with excitement since she’d heard that Lovina would be willing to train Leah and her.

“Part-time jobs,” Adam said. “But you’ll have to keep up with your chores here.”

“We will. I’ll sweep up every morning and make all the beds.” Her eyes darted over
to her twin sister. “As long as I can get Leah out of hers.”

“I’m not a lazybones,” Leah said.

“But every chance you get, you curl up with a book.”

“Because I like to read.” Leah’s eyes were prim behind her glasses. “There’s nothing
wrong with that.”

“Oh, snooze.” Susie patted her open mouth, faking a yawn.

“Girls.” Mary gave them a stern look. “I hope you won’t be bickering at the tea shop.
Lovina has enough to do. She shouldn’t have to put up with the likes of this.”

“We’ll behave,” Leah said.

“And I was just kidding.” Susie turned to her twin. “You know I love you, sister dear.
It would be a little scary to take on a job alone. But I don’t have to worry, knowing
you’ll be beside me.”

“Ya. I’ll be there to mop up your spilled tea,” Leah said.

Everyone laughed, including Susie.

Jonah found himself grinning as he reached for his water. This was the way Mamm and
Dat had wanted their home to be. Peace in the family. Peace, and plenty of love.

Y
ou’ve been awful quiet tonight, Emma.” Elsie stood on a step stool at the sink, scrubbing
and rinsing the dinner dishes. “Cat got your tongue?”

“I’ve got a lot on my mind.” Emma tossed the towel over her shoulder as she reached
up to store plates in the cabinet.

Elsie turned from the sink to face her, and Emma recognized her sister’s thoughtful
expression. Her short upper lip was pulled back to reveal her widely spaced teeth—a
feature of dwarfism that had always bothered Elsie, though Emma was always reminded
of little white pebbles worn smooth from a stream.

“A burden is always lighter when it’s shared by two,” Elsie said.

“I know that. But let’s talk about your day first.”

This was their usual evening routine: Elsie washed and Emma dried. Their stepmother,
Fanny, got the rest of the brood bathed and up to bed, while Dat drove back into town
to help brother Caleb close up the Country Store, the small shop the family owned.
Emma liked the patterns of her life. She enjoyed morning coffee with Fanny
and Dat before anyone else got up. She looked forward to seeing her students’ smiling
faces each day. And there was something to be savored in the quiet classroom at the
end of the day.

But there was truly something special about this time of day, when she and her sister
had a chance to talk. Sixteen-year-old Elsie was a good storyteller as well as a good
listener. A wonderful sister, and a best friend, too.

“Rachel King stopped by the store today.” Elsie ran the sponge over a plate. “She
said she’s got four paintings finished, and three more in the works.”

“She’s been busy.” Gabe’s cousin was a gifted artist. One day when church was held
at her parents’ dairy farm she had taken the girls to a storage shed that she’d been
using to paint. She had covered canvases with beautiful golden hills, red barns, and
patchwork quilts flapping in the breeze. The artwork showed Amish life, though Rachel
had been careful not to include any Amish folk. That would be against the Ordnung,
as the Bible cautioned against making a graven image.