Amish Circle Letters II: The Second Circle of Letters (15 page)

Miriam shut her eyes at the sight of the man sipping water, so helpless and defeated. His breath was raspy and hoarse, a clear sign that the cancer was worse than before. Even with the treatments, it was obvious that his health was failing.

“There, now,” Rachel said, dabbing at his chin with the edge of a cloth. “You rest a bit, Elijah.
Mamm
and
Daed
don’t mind at all, ain’t so?” She glanced at her parents.

Elias raised his hand. “
Rest is gut,” he said. “Don’t mind us. We won’t stay long.”

Miriam looked at her daughter and took a deep breath. “Rachel, mayhaps we can speak a moment in the washroom,
ja
?”

Out of Elijah
’s hearing, Miriam turned to her daughter and, in a rare gesture of affection, placed her hands on Rachel’s shoulders, holding her at arms’ length. “
Dochder
,” she started. “You are holding up well, I see that. But I also see that his health is failing. Why didn’t you contact us?”

Rachel waved her hand at her mother, taking a step backward in order to release herself from her mother
’s hold. “What are you talking about,
Mamm
?” she started. “Elijah is going to be just fine. You wait and see.”

“
Rachel…”

“
Nee
!” Rachel snapped, a sudden look of fire in her eyes. “I won’t hear anything else than positive thoughts. My husband will beat this and we will be fine.”

“You need to consider the possibility…”

“
Mamm
, I said
nee
!” Rachel shook her head rapidly. “I will consider only one possibility and that is recovery. Elijah will be here to keep working the farm and providing for us.”

“And if not?”

Straightening her shoulders, Rachel smoothed down her black apron and lifted her chin. “There is no ‘if not’,
Mamm
. God will take care of His children.” Without another word, she turned on her heel and walked back into the kitchen.

Miriam stared after her headstrong daughter, her heart breaking for the pain that she knew Rachel was feeling, despite her best intentions to appear strong and positive. “Please God,” Miriam whispered. “Tend to my
dochder’s
wounded heart and spare this family any unnecessary pain.”

Mary Ruth stood at the window of the bedroom, her hand resting on the windowsill as she stared outside. The sky was clear and the moon was almost full, not quite but just enough to illuminate the back fields. She couldn’t see any stars, just darkness and the moon. It was beautiful, despite the emptiness of the night. She sighed and smiled to herself.

“What was that for?”

She looked over her shoulder. She hadn’t heard Menno enter the bedroom. He stood in the doorway, his arms crossed as he watched her. “It’s good to be home,” she said softly.

“Home.” He repeated the word as if tasting it. “Do you really think of this as home, then?” He took a few steps into the room, pausing to shut the door behind him before he approached her. “Is it home, Mary Ruth?” he asked, putting his hands on her shoulders.

Shyly, she nodded her head. “Ja, Menno,” she said. “It’s my home. With you and the
kinner
, it’s my home indeed.”

She saw him chew on the corner of his lip as he contemplated what she said. His expression was soft as he stared down at her, standing before him in her white nightgown. He caressed her arms gently for just a moment before, with the slightest bit of a hesitation, he pulled her into his arms to embrace her.

“Ah Mary Ruth,” he sighed, breathing in the scent of her hair. Lavender. “I have missed you so. And I am so sorry about whatever misunderstanding we had.”

Pressing her cheek against his shoulder, she shut her eyes and found herself slipping away. The strength of his arms around her comforted her. “I am, too,” she whispered. “I
’m so glad that you found the notes I left you. That you know how much I love you.”

“Notes?” Menno pulled back and looked down at her. Raising his hand to her cheek, he brushed his fingertips across her skin. “What notes?”

“Why, the notes I left under your pillow!” She frowned. “I had left them in the barn that morning with your coffee. I thought you had found them but didn’t care.”

He was confused by her words, not understanding what she was saying. “What are you talking about?”

“I wanted you to know how much I love you so I left you Bible verses. First in the coffee mug that I left on the hay bale in the dairy and then, I left the other one on your pillow. When I realized you hadn’t seen them, I came home right away from Anna’s and found the second one on the floor, under your bed. It must have blown off the pillow when you opened the door.”

Menno shook his head, still not clear about what Mary Ruth was saying. “I have never seen any notes.”

“Why Menno!” she said, laughing lightly. “Surely you have seen them under the pillow!” She left his side and walked to the bed. Pulling back the quilt, she lifted the pillow and, sure enough, the notes were still there. It took her a second to realize what she was seeing. “Have you not slept in the bed, Menno, since the fire?”

Sheepishly, he shook his head as he walked to her side and reached down for the notes. “How could I sleep in my marriage bed without my wife,” he murmured, his fingers toying with the two pieces of paper. “Now, let me see about these notes, Mary Ruth. I am most curious.”

The papers crinkled as he unfolded them. She watched as his blue eyes flickered back and forth, reading the words that she had so painstakingly written on the pieces of paper. When he was finished, he stared at them for a long moment before he looked back into her face, his eyes seeking hers.

“Why didn
’t I see the one you left in my coffee mug?” he asked, a sense of concern in his voice.

“I…” It began to dawn on her, what had been bothering her earlier that evening. It was as if a light was clearing the darkness from her memory. Everything came back to her and she suddenly had a sinking feeling inside of her chest. Dread. “It was Melvin,” she whispered. “He had taken the note.”

“Melvin?”

Mary Ruth nodded her head. “When I went to pick up the sweater at Anna
’s, she showed me the note. Melvin had sent it to Katie.”

A frown crossed his face. “What?”

“Ja,” she said. “He must have found it and sent it to her.”

“
I don’t believe this!” He lifted his hand to his head and looked around the room as if seeking an answer from the air. “Did you confront him?”

“
Nee.” Mary Ruth reached out and touched Menno’s arm. “But there’s more, Menno. I remember now.”

He stopped and stared at her, the color starting to drain from his cheeks. “More?”

“When I realized what had happened, I hurried home. I had decided to surprise you…to have a special…” She hesitated, embarrassed to admit to what she had thought that night. “Special welcome when you returned from the farm auction.” The color rose to her cheeks and she averted her eyes, too self-conscious to meet his gaze. “I had asked Melvin to do your chores so that you wouldn’t have any work when you returned. He left a pitchfork on the floor and the lantern on. I reminded him to pick up the pitchfork and outten the light.” The memory was coming back to her now, all of it as if a wave washed over her. It sent a chill down her spine as she remembered. “But it was after they went to bed, I saw the light was still on in the back of the barn.” She lifted her eyes and stared at Menno, too aware of what her words meant.

The muscles in his jaw tensed and she saw a dark shadow cross his face. This news was not what he wanted to hear, that was for sure and certain. Suddenly it all made sense to Menno: the disappearing notes from Mary Ruth, the lantern left burning, the pitchfork forgotten on the ground. For a moment, his face turned to crimson and the expression in his eyes said it all. “So that must be why he is moping around,” Menno said, more to himself than to Mary Ruth. “Guilt. And rightly so.”

He was angry. That she could see. The mood in the room had shifted and Mary Ruth tried to turn it around. She stood before Menno and let her hand fall so that she touched his, allowing their fingers to entwine. “Menno,” she whispered. “Please…The important thing is that we are now back together, as a family”

He looked at her, anger at his son still evident in his blue eyes. She had seen that look many times before in the first weeks after Martha
’s death. But she had broken through that rough exterior before. Now it was time to do it again.

“
I don’t want this to ruin…” She let her voice trail off, the sentence left unfinished.

The silence lingered between them, their fingers touching. Something softened in his eyes as he watched her. There was a light, a glow about his expression.

“We are here now and everything is fine,” she whispered. “And it’s time, don’t you think?” She smiled, a soft and tender smile. “Too much time has been wasted already, ain’t so?”

His chest lifted as he took a deep breath and considered her statement. Without saying another word, he lifted his hand to touch her hair. He smoothed back a few strands then let his hand reach behind her, carefully plucking at the bobby pins that held her bun in place.

“Ja,” he murmured as he freed her hair and brushed it with his fingers. He let his fingers brush against her neck and rest upon her shoulder. “Too much time has been wasted, indeed.”

And on that night, after all that they had gone through, with all the gentleness and tenderness that these experiences had triggered in him, he finally made her his true wife.

It was in the morning when Mary Ruth stood by the bedroom window once again. Unlike the night before, there were no shadows on the fields. The sun was beginning to crest over the horizon and the sky changed from dark to light. She felt Menno’s hand on her waist and she turned her head, the slightest hint of a smile on her lips. He leaned against her, wrapping his arms around her body and holding her tight, her white nightgown pressed against his bare chest. She shut her eyes and leaned backward, his chin resting on his shoulder.

“
Gut
mariye
,
fraa
,” he whispered in her ear.

“
Gut
mariye
, husband,” she whispered back.

“It
’s right gut to have you home,” he said, nuzzling at her neck.

Home
, she thought, turning her gaze back out the window as she stared across the field. Yes, home indeed. “Wherever you are,” she responded. “That is where my home shall be.”

Chapter 6:
Lizzie’s Letter

Dear Family,

We all enjoyed reading everyone’s letters and learning that Mary Ruth had finally returned to her new home after that dreadful fire. We thank Him for having spared her precious life and bestowed His blessings upon our family. Our thoughts and prayers are with her and all of you.

With winter now upon us, the days have become shorter and we all seem to be moving at a slower pace. Had a lovely visit from sister Sylvia last week and we were happy to hear that John
’s market business is doing quite well. Our Katie will be helping them out come springtime.

Attended a quilting bee at the Petersheim
’s just this past weekend. Such beautiful colors Mary picked out…browns and blues. It’s so nice to see the quilting pick up again. I worry about these young women who want store-bought comforters rather than the quilts. It seems that nowadays people prefer convenience over quality, I reckon.

Will be visiting Abraham
’s family this upcoming Sunday for service and fellowship. Haven’t seen them in a while and we sure do look forward to catching up with them. His daed has been fighting the flu already. I sure hope that is not a sign of the winter ahead…sickness. None of us are getting younger, that’s for sure and certain.

You are all in our prayers, my dear family, and we look forward to celebrating the upcoming Christmas season with each of you at our family dinner gathering.

With love and blessings,

Lizzie, Abraham, and the kinner

Mimi could hardly believe that, after waiting what seemed like such a long time, she was now waking up in her own home. She was not one of these younger brides that often had to wait several months after their wedding, staying at their parent
’s homes until their husbands had secured a suitable place for them to live. No, indeed, for Steve had finally finished the work on the kitchen and bedroom just the weekend after Mary Ruth had returned to her home with Menno. Mimi hadn’t waited one single day to insist that Steve come pick her up. With bags packed and her hope chest ready to be loaded on the back of the wagon, she had been as eager as a child on her birthday morning.

He had come to collect her after the dinner hour. Her parents had watched, disapproving of their daughter
’s eagerness to move from the family house to the not-quite-ready home of her new husband. Naturally, they wanted the best for their daughter and they were not convinced that she would adapt easily to becoming a farmer’s wife; after all, this was not the environment in which she had been raised. Yet, she was an adult and they did not voice their concerns. They knew that Steve was a hard worker and had finished renovating the kitchen and master bedroom. It would do for now, they reckoned. They just spoke quietly with each other, hoping that Mimi was not taking on more than she was prepared to handle.

The evening before, Steve let Mimi unpack her things while he did the eight o
’clock evening milking. It had been shortly after ten when he returned to the house, tired and weary from a long work day. Without any delay, he retreated to the bedroom to prepare for a short night sleep. He had to arise at six in the morning to, once again, milk the cows.

Mimi had lain in his arms, listening to his deep breathing and gentle snores. This was something new to her and she took comfort in it. With his arm around her waist, he slept deeply, with little bother at having someone in the bed with him. Mimi, however, found it hard to fall asleep. She was a tad disappointed that their first night in their new home hadn
’t been spent over a board game or talking into the night; or perhaps spending time together as husband and wife on their first night in their own home Instead, he had just worked and she had just unpacked. Then, it had been time to retire. Not exactly what she had expected.

It had been well into the night when sheer fatigue had finally hit her and she had fallen asleep. Now, having awoken in the dark, she was reaching next to her. The bed was empty. Steve had already arisen and was most likely at work in the dairy barn, milking the cows. She glanced at the clock: six in the morning.

The room was cold and damp. She shivered as she slid her legs from beneath the warm covers. She needed to get up, to make a
wunderbaar gut
breakfast for her husband on their first morning together in their own home. The kitchen needed the good smell of fresh bread, baking in the oven, coffee, and scrambled eggs. That was what she wanted her husband to immediately notice the moment that he would walk into the small house.

It was after eight o
’clock, two hours later, when she finally heard his footsteps on the stairs leading to the front door. But at this point, the eggs were dry, the coffee was cold, and the bread hadn’t risen properly. Mimi sat at the table, her head in her hands, silently sobbing.

“
Wie gehts
?” he asked, concern in his voice, setting his hat on the counter and hurrying to her side. He rubbed her back and leaned over to hear her response.

“I wanted to make you a special breakfast,” she cried. “But everything is ruined.”

He pulled her into his arms, chuckling to himself. “Mimi,” he soothed her. “It’s quite all right. It’s only our first breakfast at home together.”

“
Nee
,” she replied, shaking her head and sniffling. “Nothing is going quite all right, Steve.”

He laughed, kneeling before her. He placed his hands on her cheeks and stared into her face. “What do you mean? Everything is fine, Mimi.” He glanced over his shoulder at the counter. The frying pan was on the stove and the glass coffee canister was next to it. “Let
’s walk through this together, then,” he said, taking her hand and helping her stand. “See what we have here that can be salvaged.”

Taking charge, Steve scraped the dry eggs into the compost bin and brought out four more eggs from the refrigerator. He turned on the two front burners on the propane stove and melted some butter in the pan. “
See?” he said cheerfully. “We can reheat the coffee and make a new batch of eggs. Cook it together,
ja
?” He smiled as he whisked the eggs in a green bowl. “Then we can enjoy it together.”

Another sniffle, but she tried to smile.

“Bread didn’t rise?” he asked as he looked at the lump of dough in the metal bowl by the sink. “Mayhaps the yeast wasn’t fresh?”

“I…I…” She hadn
’t considered that possibility.

“We can pick up more when we go to Miller’s Store later today,
ja
?”

“We
’re going to Miller’s?” She smiled at that news. It would be the first time that they would be at the store together as a couple, buying dry goods for
their
kitchen. She wiped at her eyes.

“
Ja
,” he nodded. “You can do an inventory of what is missing and what else you will need when breakfast is over. I’ll harness the horse and we can go right after, if you want.”

“
But your
daed
…?” She started to say, knowing that Steve always helped his father with the morning milking.

“We
’re living here now,” he explained. “Isaac’s
kinner
will have to help. Time for us to work our own farm, wouldn’t you agree?”

She understood what that meant. They
’d be working the dairy, plowing the fields, fertilizing, planting crops and harvesting them together. There would be three hay cuttings throughout the spring, summer, and fall. That hay would have to be dried and baled. There would be a garden to plan. Even though it was winter, there would be a lot of work in preparing the fields by spreading cow manure and removing rocks. The tenants would not be working the fields this year. It would all be upon Steve and Mimi’s shoulders to ensure the farm’s success, both from the dairy and the crops.

Not far from there, Katie grumbled to herself at having been awoken early, five in the morning, to help her
daed
and
grossdaadi
with the morning milking. She hadn’t expected that new chore to become part of her future. But with Steve moved out and living across the street at his own farm, Katie’s
daed
needed the extra pair of hands to help. Not for the first time indeed, Katie wished that she had an older brother.

Before Steve moved next door, he was always there, the first up, to help her
daed
and
grossdaadi
with all the chores. John David helped too. But now that Steve was gone, starting his new life with Mimi at his own farm across the road, he had too much to do in the mornings and afternoons. So her
daed
had insisted that Katie step up and help out with the chores. If she didn’t milk, she could certainly hay and water the cows, horses, and mules.

And she knew what came next: helping with the mucking!

With it being winter, the animals didn’t go out to pasture as much. The soil needed to rest and then be fertilized and reseeded. That meant that the dairy and the barn were extra dirty. With one less pair of hands to milk, her
daed
would need help with the other chores and, without a doubt, that meant picking up a pitchfork and a shovel and mucking out the manure. With all these heads of cattle under one single roof, there was going to be a lot of mucking to do, that was for sure and certain and that was something she was not looking forward to having to do each day.

Earlier, the sky still gray and the air crisp with cold, she had managed to sneak a quick visit to her precious pony. She had stood at the stall door, reaching her hand over the edge to rub Butterscotch
’s neck. She had even snuck a carrot from the kitchen when her
mamm
wasn’t looking. Butterscotch had enjoyed that treat and nuzzled her nose against Katie’s hand for more.

Now, however, Katie was dirty already, covered in hay and dust as she helped to feed the livestock.

Katie dropped the hay bale that she was carrying onto the floor. It was one of those heavy sixty-pound bales packed tightly with a mix of Timothy grass and alfalfa, tied with orange plastic string that required a razor to cut, and her arms ached. It wasn’t fair that she had to get up so early to help. It wasn’t fair that Benjamin only had to help in the afternoons. And she’d never have time to groom Butterscotch before and after school; she’d have to help with the evening chores. It wasn’t fair, she thought. Why did Steve have to move anyway?

“
Stop dragging your feet, Katie,” her
daed
called out to the young girl from across the back room. He watched her with a frown on his face. “Cows need hay, not delay.”

With a deep sigh, she put her head down and returned to work. Life was more than about her and her wants. It was about the family and the community. She knew better than to complain. So, until the days became longer, she would have to resign herself to the fact that she wouldn
’t be able to spend as much time with her beloved pony as she wanted. The only saving grace was that she’d have time on Saturday all to herself to groom Butterscotch. Hopefully.

It was mid-morning when Rachel and Leah stopped by the Yoders
’ farm. They wanted to check on Mary Ruth, to see how she was making out at home now that she had a few days to recuperate. With the
kinner
in school, they now had enough available time to harness the horse and take the short drive to their sister’s new home.

To their amazement, they found Mary Ruth in the kitchen. She was busy making cheese, the curds already setting in the five-gallon pot sitting on her stove. There was a warm, doughy smell in the kitchen, one that was both welcoming and fresh, emanating from the bread baking in the oven. Clearly, Mary Ruth had been quite productive that morning.

“My word,” Rachel said as she took off her black shawl, setting it over the back of a chair. “You should be taking it easy, Mary Ruth, don’t you think? It’s been only a few days!”

Their youngest sister laughed, her eyes sparkling and her smile bright. “
Whatever for? I’m right fine, Rachel. No use sitting around doing nothing when there is work to be done,
ja
?”

Rachel frowned and glanced at Leah who merely shrugged her shoulders. This was not the feisty, sassy sister that they had known all of their life. Instead, this was a new woman, a woman who radiated happiness and joy. “Oh help,” Rachel muttered with the hint of a knowing smirk. “She
’s
ferhoodled
!”

Mary Ruth teasingly flung a dishcloth at her sister. “Oh stop that,” she said but with twinkling eyes. “It
’s just
right gut
to be home.”

Leah shook her head. “Don
’t push yourself, sister” she said as she sat down at the table. “Don’t need to be sick again.”

They had been visiting for almost half an hour, talking about the farm and Mary Ruth
’s responsibilities as a young, newly- married wife when Menno walked into the kitchen. He seemed surprised to see his wife’s older sisters seated at the table. But he greeted them with a warm smile before turning to his wife. “Chores done next door and thought I’d head over to the natural food store. Reckon you might want to ride along,
ja
?”

Mary Ruth happily nodded her head in approval. “Would like to stop by the dry goods store, too. Need some yarn, if we might.”

Rachel stole another glance at Leah, wondering if she was paying attention to this interaction.
What is this
? Domestication for Mary Ruth? Such a change in Menno Yoder, too. Rachel couldn’t believe it was the same man that Mary Ruth had been so forlorn about a few weeks earlier.

Menno started to turn to leave then hesitated. He looked back at Rachel. “How
’s Elias getting on?” he asked.

“
Danke
for asking,” she said, lowering her eyes. “Been sick a lot. The chemotherapy seems to be working but it sure is taking a toll on him. Seems the cure is sometimes worse than the disease.”

Rachel held back the rest, how her husband was violently ill most days and barely managed to get out of the bed. With therapy in the mornings, he returned to the farm early afternoon and retreat straight to his room. There were days when she wondered if he had not been correct when he originally did not want to undergo treatment for the cancer. She hated watching him disappear before her very eyes. With not being able to keep food down for very long, he had lost too much weight. And then there was the hair loss, from his beard to his head to his eyebrows. Even on his good days, he refused to leave the bedroom, never mind the house.