An Amish Family Reunion (39 page)

Julia chuckled to herself. There was no such thing as an Amish poorhouse, but her
ehemann
loved that English term just the same.

“Is everything all right?”

The female voice from over her shoulder didn’t startle Julia the way it should have. She’d been expecting someone to interrupt her few minutes of peace and solitude in the kitchen, but she hadn’t expected her daughter-in-law. Martha had stayed as elusive as a rabbit in a forest loaded with coyotes.

“Yes, child, everything is right as rain. Just enjoying a cup of coffee before the busy day begins.”

Martha walked to the cupboard for a mug. “You haven’t had a moment to yourself since Matthew and I arrived. What with Emma coming with her boys and Leah here as often as not, your house has been busier than the Greyhound station in Cleveland.” She filled her cup so high she had to bend low to sip it down.

Julia waited until Martha straightened and then looked her in the eye. “Other than we could have used another bathroom, I wouldn’t have changed a thing. I loved having everyone here these past weeks. I wish Emma, and especially you and Matthew, lived closer.” She watched the twenty-four-year-old face crumple with misery. Martha’s large, luminous eyes filled with tears that quickly overflowed and streamed down her face.

She set down the mug and ran to Julia, throwing her arms around her waist. “I’m so sorry,
mamm
Miller. I owe you a big apology. I’ve been horrible since I arrived.” She buried her face into Julia’s shoulder, sobbing like a child.

Mamm Miller?
She could only remember one other time Martha referred to her as such, and that had been on her wedding day. She’d always used her given name.

“What is it, dear? What’s bothering you?” Julia had a good idea what it was about, but she decided to let this rose unfold on its own.

“I’ve taken the
kinner
across the street every chance I got, almost every day. You’ve hardly spent any time at all with Mary and Noah.” Her face remained obscured while the sobbing continued unchecked.

“Understandable, I suppose. The Hostetlers are your family, Martha. Your
mamm
loves her
kinskinner
.” Julia allowed the charitable side of her nature to surface.

“
Jah
, that’s true, but that’s not the whole reason I’m never here.” Martha pulled back and brought up her apron to dab and hide her face. “I hate living in New York. I’m lonely when Matthew’s gone all week at that fancy horse stable. And I’m frightened that something will happen to Mary and Noah while he’s gone that I won’t know how to handle. Every weekend when he comes home we’re so busy running errands in town, or doing chores around the house, or socializing with our new district that we have no time for each other. Before I can blink twice, it’s six o’clock Monday morning and he’s headed back to work.” She stepped away from Julia and sank into a chair. “I want to move back to Ohio so much.”

Julia glanced out the window for the whereabouts of her sons. They were both still working in the yard, building up a pile of branches for the evening bonfire and marshmallow roast. Matthew wouldn’t appreciate his
fraa
pouring out her heart to his
mamm
. “Have you discussed this with him? Let him know how you feel?”

“Many times. He insists we must stay where the pay is better to save money for a down payment on a farm of our own.
Land ain’t getting any cheaper or more plentiful
,” she mimed in a masculine tone of voice. She sat down at the table and slumped forward, placing her forehead on the hard wood surface. “I’d rather live in a chicken coop at my parents’ or in one of yours than return to New York. Folks in our district are nice enough—it’s not that—but they’re not family and we’re not home.” The young woman began to cry again as though her heart would rend in half. Then, suddenly, she bolted upright, drying her face for a second time. “But I didn’t look for you this morning to pour out my troubles. I wanted to tell you I’m sorry I took my frustrations out on you just because I was angry with Matthew. We’ll be heading back to New York come Monday, and I’ve deprived you of your chance to spend time with your
kinskinner
. That was selfish and I’m ashamed of myself.” She met and held Julia’s gaze.

Julia heard the sound of little feet on the steps, signaling they soon would be interrupted. Shuffling to where the younger woman sat, she placed a hand on her shoulder. “I understand and forgive you, but I wouldn’t give up hope yet. I know Simon had a heart-to-heart with Matthew a short time ago. He might have needed time alone to think matters through.”

Martha’s face began to clear. It was easy to see why her son fell head over heels in love with the girl—she truly was pretty with a gentle heart, despite their recent friction. “He did? About what?” Hope curtailed the river of tears.

“I don’t know exactly, only that he wanted to make sure both his sons had their priorities straight.”

Jamie Davis and Noah Miller bounded into the room with typical childlike exuberance. “Go wash your face, Martha, and be strong. God will make this and all things right again. I’ll feed bowls of cereal to these two. We have a busy day ahead of us.” She smiled at her daughter-in-law, who immediately did as instructed.

Soon the early bird buggies would arrive, mostly friends of Matthew’s to help set up tables in the barn and take benches off the church wagon. Women would come to mix large batches of sun tea and lemonade, and carry the desserts and baked goods to where they would be eaten later. Her daughters would soon return from morning chores to organize keeping cold all the appropriate side dishes. But just for a few minutes, Julia scooped two bowls of oatmeal for her grandsons, and then she drew big thick hearts on the surface with Hershey’s syrup. Neither boy’s mother was present to witness Julia serving chocolate for breakfast. But after all…she was a
grossmammi
and planned to enjoy every single minute of it.

Matthew spotted his wife in the sea of women moving like ants between the house and the main outbuilding. They were hauling foam plates, cups, and baskets of plasticware, along with bowls of fruit, chips, and whatever else didn’t need to be kept cold until mealtime. This would be the best chance he would have before her sisters and friends arrived to occupy every remaining minute with gossip or tales of their children’s exploits. With the speed of a determined man, he ran to cut in line just before she entered the building with a platter of sliced watermelon.

“May I have a word with you, Martha?”

Either the sun had blinded her or she was shocked by his appearance. She blinked several times and stared at her husband, gape-mouthed. “
Jah
, sure. Let me set this on the table.” When she returned a few moments later, her composure had not improved. “What is it? Is there something I can get for you?” She glanced nervously over her shoulder.

“I’d like you to take a stroll with me.” He tucked his hands under his suspenders.

“A stroll? It’s not yet noon, and I should help the other women prepare lunch.” She crossed her arms, uncrossed them, and then recrossed them as though she didn’t know what to do with her appendages.

“Look around. There must be twenty ladies here, all trying to help my
mamm
. And here comes your
mamm
and sisters up the driveway now. I’d say my mother has more help than that kitchen can hold.”

Martha shielded her eyes to peer toward the street, lifted her hand in a little wave, and then turned back to him. “That’s true. I suppose my taking a walk won’t cause any great hardship.”

Matthew stuck out his elbow, an old-fashioned gesture he hadn’t used since his courting days. “I have something to show you. Let’s head toward the barn instead of down the drive.”

“A new horse? I know I complained that my buggy mare won’t mind me, but it’s too expensive to haul livestock great distances.”

“No, not a horse. You’re stuck with that balky mare.” He winked at her, knowing he’d picked an especially slow trotter for her short trips to neighborhood farms.

Martha placed her hand in the crook of his arm. “Does this have anything to do with your conversation with your
daed
?”

He jerked his chin around. “How did you know about that?” Just before they reached the barn, Matthew pulled her off the path, cutting through the yard toward the road.

“I apologized to your mother this morning. She’s been deprived of seeing much of Noah and Mary while I’ve been across the street. I should have brought my
mamm
and sisters over to your house more.”

“I haven’t seen them much either, and I’m even fonder of them than her.” He made sure his tone remained nonconfrontational. They had fought enough lately to last for the next ten years. “I haven’t seen much of you as well, and I’m mighty fond of you too.”

“Still? Even after how I’ve acted?”

“Still. My own behavior hasn’t exactly been a model for husbands-to-be.”

She peeked up from beneath her thick dark lashes. “Do you know any husbands-to-be I’m not aware of?”

“I might, but don’t change the subject,
fraa
. I didn’t bring you on this walk to spill the beans about my little
bruder
.” The words popped out before he could stop himself. They both broke into peals of laughter.

“Henry has a gal? I thought he’d be too shy to start courting.”

“He does, but you didn’t hear that from me, Martha Miller.” With a quick movement, he snaked his arm around her waist, pulling her to his side.

She didn’t object or pull away. Instead, she plucked some tall Queen Anne’s lace that grew along the way. Butterflies delicately gathered late summer nectar. “Where are we going? Should I have packed a cooler?”

They had reached the road and for several minutes talked to the people arriving in a long string of buggies. Each family asked the same questions: “How’s it being back home, Matthew?” “What are those New Yorkers like? Do they talk funny?” “You still keeping to the old ways now that you work for those rich
Englischer
s?” Finally, after assurances he would catch up to each man for an update later, the last of the buggies headed up the lane.

The pair crossed the road, jumped the drainage ditch, and walked to the shade of a gnarly Osage orange tree. The spot would provide a few minutes of privacy. Matthew remembered his
grossmammi
gathering baskets of the large green pods that dropped from this tree in the autumn. She would spread them around the foundation of the house, insisting they kept spiders out of the basement and root cellar all winter. Come to think of it, he’d never seen a spider in the cellar while
grossmammi
was alive. Matthew released his wife’s hand to spread his arms wide. “What do you think of this pasture?”

Martha gazed in the direction he pointed with little interest. “This old field that the Lees own? Because livestock stopped grazing it years ago, it’s overgrown with sumac, poke, thistle, and blackberry briars. There’s barely a blade of grass left.”

“But what do you think of it? Look at how the land rolls up to those stately evergreens. There’s a nice feel to this land. It’s not too rocky, and the soil hasn’t been worked to death.”

She squinted to focus on the pines in the distance. “Those are the old Christmas trees that Mr. Lee planted hundreds of one year. He thought they would turn a quick profit so he could take his wife on a cruise to Alaska. He didn’t realize how long that variety took to mature. And not many
Englischer
s want to drive this far to cut their own Christmas tree.” Martha threw back her head with a laugh. “Mrs. Lee said they’re helping the planet by returning the land back to forest.”

He leaned his shoulder against the rough orange bark. “There are still plenty of acres that could be planted with grass. There’s access to a running stream too.” He bit the inside of his cheek for concentration.

She pondered this for a minute. “Are you’re talking about the same stream that runs through my parents’ farm? It dries up by midsummer. That’s why
daed
had to find a spring and dig a pond for livestock water.”

Matthew settled his hat on the back of his head. “Ah, there are springs in the area—good to know.” He couldn’t hide his enthusiasm any longer.

“What’s the matter with you? Why are you so interested in Mr. Lee’s investment acreage?”

“Because this isn’t Mr. Lee’s land anymore.”

Comprehension registered on her face like sun coming over the eastern hills at dawn. “Whose is it?”